Category Archives: Cannabis

Humboldt “Farmers” Go to Sacramento

dope yuppies go to sac crop

Recently, a group of area dope yuppies visited the State Legislature in Sacramento to lobby lawmakers on behalf of local marijuana growers.

HCCC b

While addressing their representatives at the State House, these cannabis cultivators wore green T-shirts emblazoned with the words, “I am a Farmer,” which I suppose, served as their excuse for wearing T-shirts.

what am I a farmer

Surrounded by business suits and power ties, these alleged “farmers” explained how important prohibition-era profits have become, not just to them personally, but to the numerous BMW and Harley Davidson dealerships around the state, not to mention ski resorts, gun dealers and real estate agents in Costa Rica, to name a few. “Who else pays $200 a yard for dirt?” They asked, adding that “California’s cannabis cultivators are the ‘suckers of last resort’ who have kept the state’s economy moving forward by buying enormous amounts of stupid crap while the rest of the state just tightened their belts and suffered through the recession.”

buy more crap

They reminded lawmakers that local businesses in Humboldt County rely heavily on black market cannabis profits. First, a lot of Humboldt County “businesses” operate as “fronts.” These “fronts” allow cannabis cultivators to launder large sums of cash without actually serving anyone’s needs. The remainder of Humboldt County’s businesses pay exorbitant rent prices, because of the high demand for commercial space for indoor marijuana cultivation, and have trouble finding help, because people can’t afford a decent place to live because of the high demand for residential space for indoor marijuana cultivation. As a result, most Humboldt County businesses cater to drug dealers who can easily afford the ridiculously high prices, while they ignore the needs of the rest of the community. Despite the poor job they do of serving the community’s needs, these businesses all pay taxes.

pay taxes

Of course, meeting people’s needs is the last thing anyone at the State House cares about. At the CA State Legislature, it doesn’t matter if you are a lawmaker or a lobbyist, a department head or a dope yuppie dressed as a farmer, everyone wants something, and everything costs money. The State Legislature essentially acts as the pimp for the state of California. Anyone who wants to fuck the people or rape the environment, legally, in the State of California has to pay them for the privilege. The State House is where they negotiate the price and terms.

pimp-and-a-prostitute

Marijuana prohibition was just such a deal, struck between powerful corporate interests and corrupt government officials, and they’ve screwed the American people with it for almost 80 years.  Today, the American people have had enough, and they demand change. Right now, state legislatures all over the country are wrestling with this one question: How can they preserve an economic system forged by the War on Drugs, while phasing out the criminal penalties for drug possession and sales.

War-on-Drugs

It’s like the transition between the Vietnam War and Reagan’s Cold War. The public demanded an end to the Vietnam War, and the draft, but not an end to military spending. No one liked spending billions of dollars on nuclear weapons, but people weren’t rioting in the streets about it. The Cold War preserved the profits of military contractors who would have otherwise had to find productive work in a peacetime economy. The people still got fucked, but at least they stopped screaming and squirming so much.

arms race

That’s what’s going on in Sacramento right now. It makes sense that Humboldt County’s Drug War profiteers should join the negotiations. Cops, prison-guards, lawyers, and drug dealers all want to continue fucking us over, and now Wall St. investors want a piece of the action too. It’s a feeding frenzy for social parasites.

social-parasites

They all know that without a multi-billion dollar eradication  effort, the price of marijuana will drop to $0, as this hearty weed quickly colonizes every vacant lot, ditch and roadside in America.

marijuana-leaves-

Wouldn’t that be great? The time has come to make it happen. All we need are seeds. That’s why it is so important for everyone who cares about cannabis, and wants to see it free and legal, to grow seedy pot. To hell with the State House, and to hell with greedy dope yuppies.  We’ve waited for them long enough already. Now it is time to free the weed, and spread the seed, because we’re sick of the greed.

grow seedy pot FTW


4/20, a CIA Plot Involving the Grateful Dead

steal_your_pot

It’s 4/20 again, Oh boy! I’m not big on celebrating 4/20 as a holiday. I mean, if somebody hands me a joint, any day of the year, I’ll happily smoke it, but as a holiday, 4/20 comes up a day late and a dollar short, if you ask me.

a day late

April 19th is the day to celebrate. Think about it. The psychedelic revolution was born on April 19 1943. April 19 is “Bicycle Day,” the day Albert Hoffman first discovered the psychoactive properties of LSD, and took his famous bike ride home from the Sandoz lab in Switzerland. Also, the Battle of Lexington and Concord took place on April 19, the first major battle in the American Revolution. April 19th is a day to remember that sometimes revolution is a good thing, and some things are worth fighting for. That’s something to celebrate.

bicycle-day

What happened on April 20th that has anything at all to do with marijuana? Nothing. Nothing at all.

nothing

What did happen on April 20th? What is the most significant thing to happen, in the whole history of civilization, on April 20? Adolf Hitler was born. Remember him? What a guy. He cast his shadow over the entire 20th Century, and remains an iconic symbol of pure evil to this day. That’s not something I want to celebrate.

hitlers birthday cake

Hitler’s birthday should be marked by a somber day to remember the horrible things the Nazis did, and to remember that people did those things. April 20 is a day to remember that at one time, Hitler was a baby, just like millions of other babies, and his mother loved him and took care of him and sent him to school, and he grew up to become Der Fuhrer of the Third Reich, and to instigate the most ghoulish bloodbath of a blood-soaked century. April 20th is a day to remember that any little baby can grow up to become another Hitler someday, and that’s something every perspective parent should think about.

hitlers birthday guidelines

Anyway, the fact that Adolf Hitler was born on on April 20th hangs like a pall over the entire day, making it unfit to celebrate. Unless, of course, you are a fascist. Fascists love to celebrate Hitler’s Birthday. If you ask me, fascists are behind the whole business of celebrating April 20th as some kind of pot holiday. I think the whole 420 phenomena is part of a CIA CoIntelPro disinformation campaign designed to derail the revolutionary elements of the cannabis counter-culture.

CIA cointelpro

The whole 420 back-story seems pretty dubious. Supposedly, some Bay Area high-school kids concocted 420 as a code word for getting high, because it took exactly 4:20 seconds for them to walk to their favorite place to smoke herb. That doesn’t make sense because: A, Some kids are faster than others. B, Who times their walks like that? And C, Kids would compete to see who could get there faster, so 420 would eventually become 418, 415, or even 412. Within a few years, some particularly fast stoners would have whittled it down to 3:58.

fast times

Also, consider this: All over the country, people constantly coin new code-words for marijuana, ranging from “bass strings” to “turf.” all of these terms must enjoy a certain amount of popularity to be effective, but all of them lose their “cool” once you hear them on TV. Code-words, after all, have to be changed once the enemy has broken the code. 420 on the other hand just seems to get more popular the more banal it becomes. Speaking of things that get more popular the more banal they sound…

bland calm

Look at where this story comes from. Apparently, some of these apocryphal 420 kids were friends of Phil Lesh, the bass player for the Grateful Dead. Supposedly, 420, as a code-word for marijuana, arose within the Grateful Dead subculture. That story doesn’t check-out either. If you saw the Dead back in the ’70s, you never heard the term 420, at least I don’t recall hearing it when I saw them back in ’78, when I saw them at Music Hall in Cleveland, a great venue that only seats 3,000 people, and the show didn’t sell out.

gd cleveland nov 20 78-horz

But a few years later, the Grateful Dead sure did. At the height of Reagan’s War on Drugs, suddenly, this washed-up Woodstock era band of drug-addled geezers had a smash hit on MTV. Next thing you know, the Grateful Dead were the biggest tour on the planet, selling-out stadiums and arenas all over the country, and all over the country, millions of drugged-up, hippied-out, middle-class white kids started calling marijuana, 420. Coincidence? I don’t think so.

coincidence-I-think-not

I’ve never trusted the Grateful Dead since then, and I assumed they were a front for the CIA. Here’s why: First, they were the least revolutionary of the psychedelic rock bands. The Grateful Dead didn’t drop LSD in Nixon’s coffee machine, like Grace Slick did,

grace slick

…and they didn’t set things on fire, like Jimi Hendrix did.

jimi hendrix

They just took drugs and played music. That made the Dead safe for consumption, in the eyes of the CIA. That’s why the CIA used the Grateful Dead to derail, demotivate and lobotomize the psychedelic revolution.

CIA Psychedelic_Intelligence

By combining pitifully low doses of LSD with excessive amounts of stoned-out bluegrass Americana music, the Grateful Dead turned America’s disaffected youth into mindless party animals incapable of original thought, let alone revolutionary action. The Grateful Dead offer nothing remotely revolutionary, original, or even interesting in their music. Instead, with the CIA’s help, they threw a huge wet blanket of blandness over the imagination of a whole generation.

cia lsd

The whole point of the Grateful Dead was to stop people from experimenting with music and drugs, and instead, make sure that whenever people found drugs, the CIA could drown them in a murky sea of rehashed country-western, bluegrass, folk-rock pap. The Grateful Dead Disneyfied the psychedelic experience, and Jerry Garcia was a stooge who, wittingly or unwittingly, helped the CIA control the minds of America’s youth.

garcia devil

Today, people all over America are celebrating Adolf Hitler’s Birthday by smoking a joint while they listen to dumb redneck music. That’s how effectively the CIA used the Grateful Dead to subdue and incapacitate the psychedelic revolution. You may think this theory sounds like delusional paranoia, but do you have a better explanation?

gd white community

I didn’t think so.

i didnt think so


The Return of Gulch Much

The other day, I found a business card in my mail box at KMUD.  The card was completely blank, except for one URL in the lower right-hand corner of the card.  gulchmulch.com was all it said.  Of course I knew what it meant.  This card meant that Paul Modic’s classic SoHum rag, the Gulch Mulch has been reborn in cyberspace.

MulchLogo

If you remember the Gulch Mulch, you can stroll down memory lane in the archives section, where you’ll find every issue of Mulch Gulch there for your perusal.

gulch mulch back issues

If you are new to SoHum, the Gulch Mulch is a great place to get the back story on all of the weirdness you encounter here.  Either way, I encourage you to check it out, and check back regularly, because Paul is back at it.

paul modic crop

That’s right, SoHum’s original desperate bachelor is back with more tales of sexual frustration, more gossip from the hills, and more humorous anecdotes about life in this Northern California backwater.  Check it out!

check-it-out


Garberville’s Visionary Artist Ron Machado

visionary artist The-Witness-By-Adam-Scott-MIller

Surrounded by lush forests in rugged mountainous terrain, in the southern quarter of Humboldt County, lies the sad little town of Garberville, CA.

Garberville welcome to buy

Infamous as a global drug trafficking hub, Garberville has become Mecca for drug dealers, and drug addicts alike who flock here in droves to pursue their lifelong ambition to make money and get high. The huge sums of money associated with the illegal drug trade, draws other unsavory characters to this little burg as well.

Unsavory-Characters

Real-estate agents, bankers, and greedy businessmen eager to hitch their wagon to the prohibition gravy train, line Garberville’s main drag offering overpriced mediocrity served with heartless indifference. In recent years, Garbervile’s pathos has become even more famous than its pot, and with good reason. After all, you can grow good pot anywhere, but watching the stagnating black-market economy turn this self-selecting community of callous, greedy, small-minded people into a cauldron of seething resentment, open hostility, and violence evokes that special blend of pity and disgust like no place I’ve ever been before.

Tragic Pathos

Rising like a lotus from this cesspool, one artist dares to defy the vortex of darkness with his singular creative vision.

lotus

Ron Machado challenges this small town’s image of itself with assemblages of found objects which spring defiantly from the oppressive landscape of commercial exploitation. Like Banksy, the famous, albeit anonymous London street artist, Machado eschews the rarified atmosphere of galleries and museums, preferring instead to transform the stifling homogeneity and crass utility of the small Northern California town he has called home for more than two decades.

ron machado3

Machado’s artworks often appear overnight, in unexpected, but very public places, usually in Garberville’s business district, where he carefully reveals the madness concealed within the mundane. Machado’s angular, assertive and unapologetic artworks occupy parking spaces, take over vacant lots, and sometimes even appear in the middle of major thoroughfares. They look almost functional, but overflow with playful frivolity, physical non-sequiters and mind-bending juxtaposition.

ron machado crop

Like many artists of exceptional vision, Ron Machado is mocked, misunderstood, and unappreciated in his hometown, where he is more often described as a homeless, mentally-ill, pain-in-the-ass, than as an artist. Local townspeople have repeatedly removed and destroyed Machado’s artworks, and this past week, an unknown assailant attacked Ron Machado physically.

assault

The assailant sprayed Ron’s face, and his belongings with flammable liquid, and attempted to set both on fire. Fortunately Ron escaped serious injury, but the ensuing blaze engulfed Ron’s belongings, filling Garberville with the acrid stench of burning plastic for most of the afternoon.

burning tent

While Ron has been arrested numerous times, and is well known to police for making public art, the arsonist who attempted to murder Ron remains at large, blending into the community, who appear to be protecting his identity. Undaunted, Ron has returned to his work, and continues to create art in Garberville with the reckless passion of a true visionary.

ron machado2 bright crop

I encourage all art enthusiasts to make a trip to Garberville to see Machado’s latest work. To view Machado’s work before local townspeople dismantle it, it pays to arrive early in the morning. It is hard to know where a Machado original will pop up next, but in a town mostly devoid of interesting art, Machado’s installations stand out conspicuously against the dull backdrop of repressive commercialism.

capitalism boring

Pack a lunch, because the restaurants in Garberville mostly suck, and don’t bother shopping, because the prices are ridiculous, but Machado’s creations make the trip worth while. While you’re up this way, be sure to visit Eureka, one of America’s great small art towns, only 65 miles or so to the North. With lots of public art, many fine galleries, and a vibrant local art scene, not to mention better restaurants and lower prices, Eureka is a great place to spend the rest of the day, and your money, after a Machado morning in Garberville.

Eureka_artsalive-tile

Arts Alive, held on the first Saturday of every month in Eureka

 


The Night I Tripped With Jack Herer

JackHerer_joint

Flipping through the latest issue of Skunk Magazine,

skunkmag

…I noticed a very nice article and photo-spread about the 25th anniversary of the Boston Freedom Rally, held each August on the Boston Commons. For many years, the Boston Freedom Rally was the largest cannabis legalization event in the country. Perhaps it retains that distinction to this day. I don’t know, but the piece brought back a lot of memories, most fondly, the night the author of the Emperor Wears No Clothes, Jack Herer, dosed me with LSD, and we spent the night in a hotel together reading Gideon’s Bible.

GIDEONS BIBLE

I remember the very first Boston Freedom Rally very distinctly. I had been working on it all summer. I designed the flier for it.

1990flier BOSton freedom raLLY

I provided the sound system and helped paint the backdrop for the stage. I even performed a few original prohibition protest songs at it,

DSC_0524

…but my most significant contribution to getting the first Boston Freedom Rally off-the-ground, was the newsletter I started: Mass Grass.

DSC_0517

Mass Grass remains in publication as the official newsletter of the Massachusetts Cannabis Reform Coalition AKA Mass Cann, but in those days, the Spring of 1990, there was no Mass. Cann. There was a lawyer in Marblehead, MA named Steve Epstein who had a list of about 250 names from a defunct MA NORML, and there was Ron and Linda Noel, who had bought a bunch of Jack Herer’s books, T-shirts and bumper stickers which they sold (or more accurately, gave away as premiums for donations) at something they called the “Hemp Table,” they had collected about 200 names from people who had signed-up to a mailing-list at the table. We sent them all the very first issue of Mass. Grass, and suddenly, we had a roomful of volunteers and a pile of checks. Mass Cann was born.

MAsS caNN MEAdow

We didn’t hold the first Boston Freedom Rally at the Boston Commons, however. We decided to hold the first Boston Freedom Rally adjacent to the dock where the USS Constitution, the famous warship known as Old Ironsides, from the Revolutionary War, was docked, as a tourist attraction, in Charlestown, on the Freedom Trail.

uss-constitution (2)

We booked Jack Herer as our key note speaker, who revealed in his, then new, book The Emperor Wears No Clothes, that it took 60 tons of cannabis sativa hemp to outfit the ship in its heyday, detailing all of the different ways hemp was used. By our choice of venue, we hoped to provide Jack Herer with a convenient visual aide, and we booked him as our key note speaker.

jack_HERER SUIT

As hard as it is to believe today, in 1990, almost nobody knew about hemp. The only hemp clothes you could buy in the US were shapeless blue work-shirts and cream colored drawstring shorts made in China with big yellow labels warning you not to smoke them. There were no hulled hemp seeds at the health food store, in fact I had to help bail Ron Noel out of jail when an overzealous Boston cop arrested him for giving away free samples of, completely legal, sterilized hemp seed. Americans knew nothing about hemp in 1990. Jack Herer changed that, almost singlehandedly with The Emperor Wears No Clothes.

The_Emperor_Wears_No_Clothes

Jack arrived in Boston two days before the rally. On the day before the rally, I chauffeured him up north to the Statehouse in New Hampshire, where he spoke at another event. We took a banner I had made for Ann Arbor’s Hash Bash earlier that year that depicted a lit joint, upended, and wrapped in barbed wire, like the Amnesty International logo, except with a joint instead of a candle, with the words Free Prisoners of Consciousness written around it. I held the banner while Jack spoke.

thats me next month

We didn’t get back to Boston until late in the day, and we returned to a very busy night of packing up, last minute phone calls and trips to the copy shop. We did not get to sleep until very late, and the alarm clock went off just a few hours later.

Alarm-Clocks

In the morning, the pace became even more frantic. One of our new members, John Migliorini had built a stage that we needed to assemble on site. I had to set up the sound system, we had booths to set up, banners to hang and signs to post, and before long, we were surrounded by a huge crowd of people. I sang my protest songs, Steve Epstein spoke, Linda Noel spoke, Elvy Musica, one of the first federally recognized medical marijuana patients, spoke, Don Fiedler, then the National Director of NORML spoke, and Jack Herer whipped the crown into a frenzy to conclude the event. The event went off without a hitch, we had a big crowd, and no one got arrested.

jaCK HERER MIC

By the time we broke down the stage, cleaned up the mess and packed all of the vehicles, we were elated, exhausted, and hungry. We took Jack out to dinner at Boston Chicken, a cafeteria style fried chicken eatery. While we stood in line in front of our trays waiting for gloved hands to fill our plates from the other side of the steam-tables, Jack took something out of his pocket and tore it into tiny pieces. He then dropped a hit of blotter acid on each of our trays. Naturally, I immediately put the quarter-inch square of paper in my mouth. Other members of our party quickly followed suit.

eat me blotter acid

We had booked Jack as a guest on a radio show, which meant he needed to be at the studios of WBCN at 8:00am the next morning. We reserved a couple of rooms at the Holiday Inn downtown, both for an after-event-party, and because it was close to the radio station. We ate dinner, and got to the hotel just as the acid started to kick-in. At first, we had a dozen or more people in that hotel room, and the atmosphere was quite celebratory.

hotel room party

John Migliorini broke-out a bottle of vodka, into which he had stuffed a huge cola of fresh cannabis, at the peak of fluorescence. I don’t know how he got that huge bud through the neck of the bottle, but the bud looked as perfect as the day it was harvested. He poured everyone a glass, and Jack proposed a toast. I’ve never tasted anything quite like it before or since, pure essence of cannabis. Joints were lit and passed and we partied for a few hours.

smoking joint

As the evening progressed, the room cleared-out a bit, as guests excused themselves. By about 1:00AM, only the people that Jack had dosed, remained, and the topic turned to psychedelics. As a hard-core dead-head, Jack learned to use LSD the way most people use coffee. He talked about meeting Timothy Leary, and how he used Timothy Leary’s method to quit smoking cigarettes.

tim leary gif

Timothy Leary’s method of beating nicotine addiction went something like this: You smoke your last cigarette, and then set the pack of cigarettes on the table in front of you. Then, you take 10 hits of LSD. Wait an hour, then take one more hit of LSD every hour, for 10 hours. Then wait 10 hours, after which you take 10 more hits of LSD. By the time you come down from that, apparently, you’ve broken the acute physical addiction, and you’ve reprogrammed your mind. Jack said it worked, and he hasn’t had a cigarette since.

LSD BUTTS

I’ve never had to deal with nicotine addiction, but I’ve had enough experience with LSD that I don’t doubt his story. We talked about how powerful psychedelics were, and how they had the potential change people, both individually, and as a culture. Eventually, Jack brought up The Sacred Mushroom and the Cross by John Allegro, and asked if anyone had read it. I had not yet read it at the time, but I had heard of it, and even looked it up in the library, but instead, only found books by other authors either dismissing Allegro’s work, or struggling to put their religious beliefs back together after Allegro had so convincingly shattered them.

Sacred-Mushroom-and-the-Cross

I knew that John Allegro was a leading ancient-language scholar who spent many years studying the Dead Sea Scrolls. In The Sacred Mushroom and the Cross, Allegro explains that the story of Jesus, in the New Testament, is actually a coded message, describing the beliefs and practices of a secret cult of mushroom worshiping Jews, who used amanita muscaria mushrooms as their sacrament. According to Allegro, the stories were strictly an oral tradition, and it was forbidden to write them down, but between 66 and 74AD, this cult was all but wiped-out in a Jewish rebellion that the Roman authority crushed, brutally, and mercilessly.

JeWisH REbeLlion

These dire circumstances led to the cult write down the stories that explained where to find, how to identify and how to safely use the strongly psychoactive, but also deadly poisonous mushroom. Told as a story of Jesus, the Son of God incarnate on Earth, any child could understand it, but only an initiate, who was given special instruction, would understand the hidden messages about the mushroom cult. If you’re not familiar with The Sacred Mushroom and the Cross, I encourage you to read it. That’s what the John Allegro says, and if you believe his credentials, he’s the guy who should know.

MUSHROOM CRUCIFIX

I’m not particularly religious, or interested in learning Hebrew, Aramaic or Greek, but psychedelic drugs fascinate me to no end. Jack was raised Jewish. He didn’t care that much about Jesus, but, like every good Jewish boy, he learned Hebrew for his Bar Mitsvah, and in his passion to learn as much as he could about the history of cannabis sativa, he also taught himself some Aramaic and Latin, and spent a lot of time studying religious texts.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

According to Jack, Allegro was right. The Gospel is a work of fiction, and Jesus probably never existed as a human being, but instead, was an anthropomorphization of the amanita muscaria mushroom. However, Jack also discovered a whole different level of deception and subterfuge concealed within the Old Testament of the Christian Bible.

warning-looking-at-religious-texts-may-permanently-damage-the-mind-

Jack noticed that the Old Testament, as it has been translated in the Christian Bible, reads a lot differently than the Jewish Torah, which contains the same stories, but in their original Hebrew. Jack also noticed something very strange about the way the Christian Bible uses Arabic numerals. We could tell that Jack was really passionate about this, and if he had lived long enough to see the complete legalization of cannabis, to which he was completely dedicated, I bet he would have written a book about it. He gave us a preview of it that night:

sneaky preview

According to Jack, in the 3rd Century, when Constantine had his life-changing, and politically convenient “vision” and converted to Christianity, founding the Roman Catholic Church, he had actually become an initiate of this mushroom cult. Constantine then constructed the new official church of Rome, using the same kind of secret code, using stories that had an overt message, that anyone could understand, and a covert message, that only an initiate with special training would comprehend.

Pope_Constantine

Jack postulates that Constantine had two goals he hoped to achieve by establishing the Roman Catholic Church and declaring himself the first Pope. Constantine hoped to use the church to pacify the unruly masses who increasingly threatened the stability of the Roman Empire, but also to protect himself, close associates, and other members of the cult from the one thing they feared more than anything else, Gonorrhea.

gonorrhea

According to Jack, the Catholic Church was founded by a secret cult of homosexual pedophiles, who used the cover of a celibate priesthood to conceal their activities from scrutiny, and the knowledge gained through the confessional, to target only the most chaste virgins for their sexual gratification, and recruitment. The Catholic clergy was constructed in such a way as to create layers of disease prevention through a strict protocol of who gets to fuck who, insuring that the Pope himself had multiple layers of protection from the disease carrying public.

Cardinal RECRUITS

I am not kidding. I’m pretty sure I did not hallucinate that. I was high that night, but not that high. Personally, I don’t put a whole lot of stock in anything the Bible says, but when Jack Herer, the guy who uncovered the hidden truth about marijuana, tells me that he’s discovered evidence that the Catholic Church was founded by a secret cult of psychedelic mushroom worshiping gay pedophiles, I was intrigued.

SAINT NICHOLAS WAS A ROMAN CATHOLIC PRIEST PEDOPHILE

Enough of his story seemed to check out. I knew that the Sacred Mushroom and the Cross was a real book, and I knew that it made some big waves in Theological circles. I also knew, as I’m sure you do, that Catholic priests are notorious for molesting children, but I went to bible school for 12 years. I’ve read enough of the Bible to know that it’s boring as hell, and if there were any wild sex-scenes in it, I would remember them. Naturally, we asked Jack to explain.

JACK HERER YOUTUBE

This is where it gets complicated and hard to remember after 25 years, but I’ll do my best. Anyone who takes the Bible seriously should do their own research. I’m just conveying my experience. According to Jack, when they talk about “damnation” in the Bible, they really mean, gonorrhea. The word “damn” is apparently derived from the same word as “dam” meaning to obstruct the natural flow of water.

damnation

The “n” on the end of “damn” modifies the meaning to mean an obstruction to the natural flow of “living waters.” “Living waters” according to Jack meant “semen.” So,, damnation means: an obstruction to the natural flow of semen.

LIVING WATERS

Gonorrhea definitely obstructs the natural flow of fluids through the genitalia. In severe cases puss drips from the end of the penis. This dripping puss looked more like semen than urine, so they assumed that the extreme pain they felt during urination resulted from the the dam blocking the natural flow of semen. In those days, long before the discovery of penicillin, gonorrhea was untreatable, and almost worse than a death sentence. You could think of gonorrhea as the AIDS of their time, and it especially worried the more sexually promiscuous among them, Roman Emperors being more promiscuous than most. That’s how jack explained “damnation.”

Damnation1

Then he explained the sexual symbolism behind the Holy Trinity. According to Jack, whenever they use the word “God” or “God the Father,” we should read it as “the erect penis.” Jack said these people worshiped a “Sun God,” and that the sun was the head of a giant penis that thrust itself into the womb of the Earth every morning, and pulled-out every evening.

sun god penis

Whenever you see a reference to the “Son of God” or “Jesus Christ” we should translate that as “sacred mushroom,” amanita muscaria. Jack told us that the “virgin birth’ referred to the fact that they could find no seeds for mushrooms, and they were thought to spring directly from the rain, which these ancients believed to be the semen of the great “Sun God.”.

amanita muscaria

The mushroom was therefore sacred, because it sprang up entirely from the semen of the Sun God, without an earthly mother, and because the mushroom looked so much like a penis, they assumed it was the perfect embodiment of masculine energy. It’s psychedelic, so it must have blown their mind, and it could also kill them, so they must have been very careful with it, but that’s what Jack Herer, and John Allegro, for that matter, tell us we should think of, when we think about Jesus Christ.

christ w mushroom

Finally, the “Holy Ghost” according to Jack, “Holy Ghost” means “semen.” Got that? Whenever you read the Bible and you read something about the “Holy Trinity,” they really mean, the dick, the toadstool, and the jizz. You can see how this kind of interpretation would render the Bible a much more sexually explicit book.

holy trinity

Now we get to the Arabic numerals. If you look at the Bible, you’ll see that the names of the books of the Bible use Roman numerals, as in Samuel I and Samuel II or Kings I and Kings II, but chapter and verse are always denoted with Arabic numerals, John 3:16 for example. According to Jack, there is sexual symbolism to these numbers.

Know-What-Numbers-in-Numerology-Mean-Step-4

For instance: 1 symbolizes the erect penis. It doesn’t take much imagination to see that, but Jack also said that 1 symbolizes half of the amanita muscaria mushroom, the mushroom being so sacred that no symbol could represent it in its entirety. The number 2 symbolizes the other half of the mushroom. I can almost see it, I guess. The number 3, he explained, symbolized “the tush.” Sure, the number 3 looks like a naked butt on its side. I’ve even seen that image used to represent the number. That’s about all I can remember about the sexual symbolism of Arabic numerals.

all I remember

Do you follow me so far? I mean, by the time we got this far into the conversation, it was really late, pushing 3:00AM. The acid was still there, holding back sleep, but I could feel the cumulative fatigue of two long, exciting days with very little rest. Still, I found this whole discussion pretty mind-blowing, and even in my altered state of consciousness, I tried to grasp what I was hearing.

mindblown

To review: When you read your Bible, remember that “damnation” means “gonorrhea,” “God” means “boner,” “Jesus” means “magic mushroom,” and “Holy Ghost” means “special sauce.” Then the verses of the Bible all have numbers, which all have sexual significance, and provide clues as to what kind of sex acts are covered in the text. As you can imagine, we were skeptical. We had all read The Emperor Wears No Clothes. We knew that Jack knew how to do research and present evidence, but this seemed pretty over-the-top. The only thing left to do was check it out.

CHSCK IT OUT DUDE

I pulled the Gideon’s Bible out of the hotel dresser-drawer. Jack suggested we look in a particular book, saying something like, “look in Leviticus, that book is full of smut.” So, I opened the Bible, turned to the book of Leviticus (I think) and read from Chapter 1, verse 3 and the text read something like: “And God came to him in the place of darkness and said, ‘Behold. I come quickly’ and he was filled with the Holy Spirit, and the Holy Spirit was in him.”

BEHOLD I COME QUICKLY

I kid you not. We looked up one verse after another and they were all equally full of homosexual innuendo. It was like discovering the economic symbolism behind Gilligan’s Island, once you see it, you really can’t ignore it. There we were, zonked on acid at four o’clock in the morning, reading Gideon’s bible, and cracking-up like we were listening to Redd Foxx or some equally smutty comic.

REDD FOXX

Eventually we stopped laughing, Jack went into the adjoining room to rest his eyes for an hour or two before we got up, checked-out, grabbed a coffee and scone and got on the T. Two stops later we emerged on the street just a block or two from the radio station. I don’t own a Bible anymore, and I haven’t researched this theory any further, but that was a memorable night.

a MEMORABLE NIGHT


Sour Diesel

sour_diesel_pump crop

I’m the kind of guy who’s happy to have weed, and I’m happy to have whatever kind of weed I happen to have.

weed befrore and after

I like weed, but there are plenty of things I’d rather do than pursue weed, so I don’t try a lot of the popular new strains. Only recently did I have the opportunity to sample the strain, or by now, whole class of strains called “Sour Diesel.”

sour-diesel super silver-horz

Sour Diesel enjoys much popularity with commercial marijuana cultivators, and has become a staple in the industry.

staples

I can understand why people grow it: It’s heavy, hashy, and it gets you real high, but who wants pot that smells like diesel fuel? Sour Diesel reminds me of working in a garage, and smells like a greasy truck engine, or an environmental disaster. Does anyone really like that smell? How did we make pot smell so awful?

smell bad

I thought they called it “diesel” because of its suitability to that kind of off-the-grid, indoor grow scene, dependent as they are on big, diesel fuel guzzling, generators. I had no idea that the pot itself stank like diesel-fuel, and if I didn’t know better, I would have assumed the bad smell was the result of exhaust fumes in the grow room. Not so. The “Cali Sour Diesel” I tried was grown organically, outdoors in the fresh clean country air. Still, it smelled like a New York City bus station. Why?

Bus_Station

Pot can smell like so many different things. Pot can smell like pine trees, or blueberries, or bubblegum, or pineapple, or even fresh baked cookies. Why do we grow so much pot that smells like diesel fuel? People around here grow a ton of it, or more accurately, many tons of it, and an accurate scale may well be the key to its success.

accurate scale

What Sour Diesel lacks in bouquet, it makes up for in mass. For some reason, the greasy-truck-engine-smell makes pot weigh more. Why do people care more about how much pot weighs than about how nice it smells? More pointedly: What does this tell you about the marijuana industry when so many people in it obviously care more about quantity than quality?

quality-vs-quantity

Remember Sour Diesel the next time someone tries to sell you this bullshit about how the marijuana industry is developing luxury niche markets for the true cannabis connoisseur.

cannabis connoisseur

The marijuana industry doesn’t care if pot smells like a truck stop men’s room, so long as they can put more of it on the scale. That’s because the marijuana industry knows that, thanks to prohibition, marijuana consumers generally have very little choice in what they smoke.

we-have-no-choice-but-to-carry-on

If you know someone who deals herb, whatever herb they deal is the herb you’re going to smoke. If you don’t know someone who deals herb, you have to pay money to see a doctor, and then go to a dispensary where you may have more choices, but you’ll pay more than if you knew somebody. Unless you grow your own, you pay through the nose for herb, and you pretty much have to settle for what you can get, even if it smells like it’s been stuck in traffic for hours.

stuck in traffic

The marijuana industry still depends on an artificial shortage, created and perpetuated by expensive government oppression, intimidation and violence. The products they sell still reflect this paradigm. Overpriced, bred for weight, not for flavor, grown according to economic principles, not ecological principles, and marketed for maximum profit, rather than maximum benefit. No wonder it smells like diesel fuel. If you wanted to make marijuana smell any uglier, you’d have to frack it.

Frack-cartoon

What’s next, pot that smells like money? Obviously it already smells like that to too many people.

smelling money


Chemdawg?

ChemDawg

In the Ganjier’s circular this week I noticed they were having a “sale” on cannabis seeds. Notably, they had “one box left” of “Chemdawg Special Reserve” from Aficionado Seed Company selling for $450 for 10 marijuana seeds. Is that a sale price? $42 each seems like a lot of money for a pot seed, and especially for something called “Chemdawg.” Even in a tiny wax-sealed glass bottle, nestled in a decorative cotton-lined box, “Chemdawg” seems like a pretty low-brow name for a high-end luxury product.

seed bottle

I can’t imagine anyone shelling out fifty bucks for a bottle of Chemdawg Single-Malt Scotch, or a horse named “Chemdawg” winning the Kentucky Derby, or letting the valet park your new Rolls Royce Chemdawg at the country club. I really don’t understand modern marketing, but I have to wonder if the marijuana industry’s propensity for dumb, low-brow strain-names undermines their efforts to market their product as a high-end luxury brand.

chemDawg-280x280

Neither approach seems appropriate for marijuana, if you ask me. I mean, we’re talking about marijuana here, Mary Jane, the girl next-door, easy to grow, safe to use, everybody’s best friend, marijuana. Calling her “Chemdawg” makes it sound like she joined a gang, got some tattoos, tacky clothes and oversize gold jewelry. That’s not the marijuana I love.

thug girl

Despite my preferences, there’s still that wide gulf between even the most impressive Hip-Hop “bling” and the refined tastes and sensibilities of a true “aficionado,” and “chemdog,” as a word at least, clearly missed the boat. “Chemdawg” remains firmly planted on the plebeian side of the divide, along with it’s “homeys” Green Crack, Cheesel, and Purple Panty Dropper. As if mainstream culture weren’t repulsive enough, this overlay of embarrassingly stupid, thug-culture nomenclature really doesn’t make marijuana more attractive in my eye.

gang violence

We live in a time of cultural collapse. Sophistication amounts to little more than pretentious bullshit, and mainstream American culture could hardly be any more embarrassingly stupid or thuggish. Our culture is falling apart, like a crack-head, scarred, gaunt, hollow-eyed and shaking. It still looks dangerous, but it no longer looks strong or vital. Nobody trusts it, you don’t want it dating your daughter, and you sure as hell don’t want to smoke any of it.

Dog-CrackHead1

That’s the culture we live in, but we shouldn’t sully good wholesome herb with it. Thug-culture is the language of the Drug War. It’s time to end the Drug War. It’s time to stop giving your marijuana thug names. If you have to name your marijuana, give it a nice name. Does anyone remember William’s Wonder? Doesn’t that sound like a seed you could give your mother? She’d grow that William’s Wonder right next to her Cherokee Purple tomatoes and her Country Gentleman corn.

williams wonder

William’s Wonder is a GREAT strain of marijuana, some of the best pot I’ve ever smoked. Neville used to sell it in his Amsterdam Seed Catalog. Has pot really gotten better than that? Have the stupid names helped? I don’t think so. I smoke just as much pot. I get just as high. What has changed? The price, the stupid name, and the seeds.

pot seed heart

I sure miss cheap seedy pot.

seedy bud

I won’t miss the stupid names, or the hokey thug-culture aesthetic, or the pretentious bullshit marketing campaigns and the greedy dope yuppies behind them, but I sure do miss cheap bags of seedy marijuana. I’m not knocking modern marijuana genetics, but marijuana wants to have seeds. We should make marijuana happy, because happy marijuana will make people happier. This year, grow seedy marijuana for a change. Not to make money, but just to make the world a better place, and make it William’s Wonder.

grow seedy pot FTW


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