
I’ll be frank: I cannot go a single morning without a cup of tea. Granted, I prefer the strong black—or perhaps, if I am feeling exotic, Mate—but as I see it, caffeine and DMT may as well be cousins.
And I suspect the US Customs agents who confiscated an inbound shipment of hoasca back in 1999 may have missed their own morning cuppa.
And am I envious of these New Mexicans? Perhaps. When I drink my tea, all I see are the needy, hapless faces of The Aural Times‘s junior news staff.



