Allow me to start with an anecdote about the most stoned/generally fucked up I have ever been in my 32 years of existence. I was in the back of a car on a mini Colorado road trip from my little college town to Copper Mountain—about three hours, entirely through mountains. We'd prepared a full tray of weed brownies from a giant ziplock bag of "shake" and some plants of a friend's that hadn't turned out to be so hot for smoking. Another friend was a full-on Doctor of Weed Chemistry, so the oil we'd come up with—for baking—was as strong as anything most of us had seen, and the resulting brownies tasted about as much like pot as any other ingredient. But they were stll pretty good from a junk food perspective, just very weedy.
So, we all had a few bites before leaving, but I was left in the backseat with the tray and a bag of chips. I went to town on both, killing off half the tray by myself before even realizing what I'd done. A half hour later, resting my suddenly impossibly heavy head on back of the seat, I watched as the stars above, bright in the clear mountain night-sky, turned from familiar blinking pinholes to cold, white arcs. The effect was replicated on most everything else capable of reflecting light for the duration of the trip. Post-drive, I retreated quickly into a sphere of naseau and anxiety, which lasted until sometime the next afternoon.
For the rest of the story: http://motherboard.vice.com/blog/americas-children-are