We have drunk Soma and become immortal; we have attained the light, the Gods discovered.
Now what may a foeman’s malice do to harm us? What, O Immortal, a mortal mans deception?
Absorbed into the heart, be sweet, O drop, as a kind father to his son, O Soma,
As a wise Friend to friend: do thou, wide-ruler, O Soma, lengthen out our days for living.
These glorious drops that give me freedom have I drunk.
Closely they knit my joints as straps secure a chariot.
Let them protect my foot from slipping on the way: yea let the drops I drink preserve me from disease.
Our maladies have lost their strength and vanished; they feared, and passed away into the darkness.
Soma hath risen in us, exceedingly mighty, and we have come to where men prolong existence.

-The Rig Veda, HYMN XLVIII

Booze Glorious Booze
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