the Delta lounge in either Portugal or NYC. Honestly can't remember which. But my solution was elegant, easy to explain, had a great illustrative chart, and the high-level design led directly to the detailed design without a hitch.
I think it is that I have raging ADHD. Even at my advanced age. Easier to concentrate with a drink, and I am very leery of drugs.

At least, according to all the Bruces on the faculty of the philosophy department of the University of Walamaloo

If you made a list of the top 100 songs from the past half-century, half of them were probably written while drunk and most of the rest were likely written on LSD.

This guy from Iron Butterfly was writing a song "In A Garden Of Eden," but he was drinking a lot of wine, so it came out "In A Gadda Da Vita."

Adam Sandler's movies have to have been written when he was on crack.

Bill Hicks

Was written while Ken Keasey was tripping on various psychedelics.

and Kerouac was on coffee and Benzedrine when he wrote On the Road.

Lennon was on LSD when he came up with the opening lines of "I am the Walrus".

apologies for a duplicate post.

Samuel Taylor Coleridge was deep in an opium embrace when he started writing "Kubla Khan". He passed out and when he awoke from the arms of Morpheus he couldn't remember how he was going to end the poem - thus the reason it is so short and the meter of the final stanza is completely different from the rest.


Kubla Khan
By Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Or, a vision in a dream. A Fragment.

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree:
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.
So twice five miles of fertile ground
With walls and towers were girdled round;
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree;
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.

But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted
Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover!
A savage place! as holy and enchanted
As e’er beneath a waning moon was haunted
By woman wailing for her demon-lover!
And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
A mighty fountain momently was forced:
Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst
Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,
Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher’s flail:
And mid these dancing rocks at once and ever
It flung up momently the sacred river.
Five miles meandering with a mazy motion
Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,
Then reached the caverns measureless to man,
And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean;
And ’mid this tumult Kubla heard from far
Ancestral voices prophesying war!
The shadow of the dome of pleasure
Floated midway on the waves;
Where was heard the mingled measure
From the fountain and the caves.
It was a miracle of rare device,
A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice!

A damsel with a dulcimer
In a vision once I saw:
It was an Abyssinian maid
And on her dulcimer she played,
Singing of Mount Abora.
Could I revive within me
Her symphony and song,
To such a deep delight ’twould win me,
That with music loud and long,
I would build that dome in air,
That sunny dome! those caves of ice!
And all who heard should see them there,
And all should cry, Beware! Beware!
His flashing eyes, his floating hair!
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread
For he on honey-dew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise.

He said that the poem appeared in his head, complete, and that he wrote it down as fast as he could. Someone knocked at the door, took a few minutes of his time, and the rest of the poem was gone.

Wish I knew where I read that. Yes, it did mention he was pretty high at the time.




PS: I never leave home without wearing my fast thick pants.

Since (upon looking it up) the author himself told that story, it must be the case. Mea culpa! I may have confused this with something out of de Quincey's Confessions of an Opium Eater.

Ah well - higher than a kite, nonetheless.

were produced/written/made while perfectly sober.
But, sticking to the main point, wasn't Hubbard - the "founder" of Scientology drunk at a bar with a few of his friends when he bet he could make-up a religion.

If only I could remember to write down the solutions!

At least, according to Paul McCartney...

And they were both on speedy drugs not downers like pot and booze.

While watching "For All Mankind" I saw huge cups of coffee and big ashtrays full of butts in front of all the control room guys. Makes one wonder if we have made it to the Moon without nicotine.