The Ubyssey unsuccessfully asks stoners whether popcorn is a vegetable at 4/20

The moment we stepped off the bus, we were smacked in the face by the pungent smell that can only come from several thousand people all getting really, really baked at the same time. With a camera and microphone, The Ubyssey set out to explore the kaleidoscope of strange humanity that is the Vancouver 4/20 celebration.

Watching the people at 4/20 is like seeing the most vibrant and strange parts of every surviving generation crammed into a surreal beach microcosm. There were the masses of people and tents on the beach, from which rose a large, thin veil of smoke. People were standing above on the Burrard Bridge bridge walkway, taking pictures and pointing as though it were some rare whale sighting.

It quickly became obvious that pointing a microphone and a camera in a high person’s face does not make them very eager to talk — let's blame it on the paranoia. It's a shame, too, because we had painstakingly prepared some of the deepest interview questions that have ever been created:

  • How do you know if my red isn’t your blue? 
  • If you drop soap on the floor, is the floor clean or the soap dirty? 
  • Is popcorn a vegetable? 
  • If Apple made a car, would it have windows? 
  • When we yawn, do deaf people think we are screaming? 
  • If a redhead worked at a baker, would that make him the ginger bread man? 
  • Why is it called a building if it is already built?
  • If you are waiting for the waiter, doesn’t that make you the waiter? 

The most surprising thing was how openly the drug trade was operating. A man with a cardboard sign was yelling that he had “good shatter” for only $25, while another was offering a handful of “dank buds” for $20 over the sound of music playing from a nearby stage.

Through the haze of smoke and the roving crowds of bizarre-looking people, a man stood over them all, giving an impassioned speech about how important weed legalization is. His testimony was akin to that of a preacher reciting a sermon to vanquish demons — it was remarkably eloquent. 

The people on stage kept reminding everyone that “what we are doing is illegal.” But instead of a massive act of civil disobedience, it became more of a relaxing, mildly sketchy walk along the shore. Frankly, the revolution felt somewhat over. Today, 4/20 is more of a celebration of culture than the political demonstration it once was. Now, the movement is a crowd of several hundred red-eyed stoners shuffling in the direction of the nearest Chipotle. Stay hungry, my friends.