Hippie Law stipulates that even in the most stressful situations you have to do whatever you need to get high. An example of this in a difficult situation is shown in an excerpt from J P Dooley's book about Vietnam, The Sergeant on the Wall:
"Easy, Mahoney, I thought. Nobody's shooting and it's early yet. Have to figure we're cool.
Slowly I looked all around, feeling better about things, then down at their shrouded forms. And suddenly, as if through another lens, I saw it, knew with a rush of acute certainty that they were going to die. I had The Feeling, deep and unmistakable.
Charlie was probably watching us right now; I felt sick. My mind raced, kaleidoscopic, thoughts displacing thoughts, progressive deviation, until shaking, I was on the verge of rational meltdown.
Don't become the Weasel, I said to myself, taking a deep breath, refusing to give in to the pre-potential for madness that lies just under the surface when you've been in constant danger for too long.
But I had learned to trust this thing we called The Feeling, perception beyond normal awareness, beyond reason, and by the time they were done, I was completely unnerved.
Coughing softly, Jones rolled over and put the charger for the Claymore next to the radio. "See, haole: no big thing!" Pineapple said, adjusting his gear.
You rotten bastard, I thought, hating him, both of them, acutely.
Thus I was awake most of the first watch, dog-tired but the evening was still and quiet, and I didn't trust Pineapple to not give us away.
Images of Tooker's hooch, warm candlelight and incense and pot smoke, came and went as I struggled to stay centered and alert. Finally, around twenty-three hundred, it began to mist rain, then come on harder. Knowing we were covered now, wrapped up in the noise of the storm and fairly safe, I rearranged my poncho to keep my legs as dry as possible, and bunching the soft liner around my head, fell asleep immediately."
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