When ZUG recently asked me to be a student intern for the summer, I asked all the usual questions. Was it a paid internship? (No.) Would I get course credit? (No.) Could I list it on a resume? (Probably not.)

But when they told me they needed a "Student Stoner Intern" to review the high-tech smoking device called the Volcano Vaporizer, I jumped at the chance. If you haven't heard of the Volcano, this is a state-of-the-art, precision-engineered German smoking machine. It normally costs $539, which is about $519 more than I paid for my last bong. In exchange for a few articles, I'd get to try it for free.

But there was a catch: since this is a comedy site, I would have to smoke weird foreign substances through the Volcano. No problem. Like everyone, I tried smoking catnip in high school. I also smoked a page from a Victoria's Secret catalog, on a bet. Once, when I ran out of rolling papers, I even smoked burning toilet paper. I have more foreign substances in my lungs than a traffic cop in downtown Bangalore.

As an English major at Harvard, this assignment gave me the chance to combine the two things I like doing most: writing, and getting mind-numbingly high.



The Volcano Vaporizer arrived at my Cambridge apartment, packed discreetly in this cardboard box. The vaporizer itself is legal to own, so I wasn't worried about holding it at my place. Besides, when I opened it, I was blown away (so to speak) by the sheer beauty of the device. German-engineered by Storz & Bickel, who I think also were Hitler's law firm, this is a high-tech appliance that would be at home between your Sub-Zero fridge and Viking range. You could leave it in the kitchen and tell everyone it was a blender. Which, in a sense, it is.



I needed someone to help take pictures, so I enlisted the help of a relative we'll just call "Creepy Uncle Rick." Rick is, let's say, an arborist. He brought over some rare specimens of his work, as well as a 5-pound box of Cheez-Its.

Opening the Volcano box, we found that some assembly was required. There are over a dozen pieces that need to be put together, so this part is best done sober. It was a little like putting together a bong from Ikea.



After a few minutes, our Volcano Vaporizer was ready to go. "This thing looks like Sputnik," Creepy Uncle Rick observed.

"Get ready to go to outer space," I said, plugging it in.

How the Volcano Vaporizer works: First you plug in the device. A red light turns on, indicating the heating coil is warming up. Then you grind your plant material using the high-quality German herb grinder that is included. (Honestly, the grinder alone is worth the purchase price.) Fill the chamber with a small scoop of material and place on base unit. Fit the large plastic bag onto the chamber, which clicks in place. The Volcano heats the material to a temperature just shy of burning. This vaporizes the active ingredients out of the material, like cooking onions on a stove. Now you press the green button, and a small fan blows the vapors into the bag, which inflates like a balloon, or possibly a giant inflatable penis. When the bag is full, you remove it and snap on the mouthpiece. Then just push the mouthpiece to your lips to unlock the sweet, heavenly vapors.

"Relax and breathe deeply."

SS: Oh my God. This device is absolutely amazing.

CUR: It really is.

SS: This is German-engineered precision. This is the BMW of smoking devices.

We found that a little material went a long way: one "scoop" was enough for several balloonfuls. Though, to be honest, we kind of lost count after the third.



What amazed me, besides the fantastically detailed ridges on the side of my Cheez-It, which I ended up writing a poem about, was the way the mouthpiece was engineered. Vapors stay in the bag until you press it to your lips. You've got to experience this to appreciate how amazing it is. You'd think the vapors would dissipate after a few minutes, but those crafty Germans have figured out how to store it.


"The Hindenbong."

The instructions say you should use the vapors within five minutes, but we found that the vapors stayed active for, well, I don't know how long. It could have been an hour, or it could have been five years. I had a watch, but it went all Salvador Dali whenever I looked at it.

SS: It's much more potent than smoking.

CUR: Hits you much quicker.

SS: It's like a sledgehammer to the brain.

CUR: Like a shot as opposed to drinking a beer.

SS: That's what they call a "pot shot."

CUR: [collapses in laughter]

I looked over and saw he was laughing at a Robot Chicken clip on YouTube, not my brilliant wordplay. Undaunted, I continued taking notes.

SS: How would you rate the smoothness of the Volcano, on a scale of 1 to 10?

CUR: Are you kidding? It couldn't be smoother, or it would be like inhaling milk.

SS: Right? It would be like sitting in a sauna, with someone ladling half and half on the hot coals.

CUR: Smoother.

SS: [cracking up] Smoother still?

CUR: Yes. It is not smoke, it is pure heavy cream.

Needless to say, our first 14 impressions of the Volcano Vaporizer were extremely favorable. No smoke, no tar, no carcinogens. This was an ultramodern appliance featuring cutting-edge toke-nology. If these guys made a food processor, or coffeemaker, I'd buy it. I actually suggested to ZUG they sell a combo called the "Coffee-Pot":

Cuisinart Brew Central (Coffee)	+	Volcano Vaporizer (Pot)

Unfortunately, we were about to ruin our smoking experience by testing out the Volcano on a variety of awful substances.

Next: What happens when you smoke wild lettuce? >>