Applauding the Drug War

Couple of weeks I saw a movie that I’ve seen about a million times, and each time, I learn a little more about America and, dare I say, Life from this flic. This movie is pure Americana in its most idealize sense. The story is about an immigrant whose hard working and ready to do what he has to get make a place for him and his familia in his new country. He starts out behind the eight ball by being thrown in an internment camp upon his arrival to America. But through pluck, moxie and a dull blade, our hero above the group chorus of ‘Revenga,’ is able to rise above his impoverished situation to get out and become a dishwasher while he looks for other long-term employment. Epic movie edited short, our hero goes into manufacturing and distribution, creating a huge empire of importing and exporting. Now this modern-Cuban Horatio Alger, a guy named Tony Montana almost makes it to the pinnacle of the American Dream. The movie shows that he’s reached the top because he’s tired of doing Michelle Pfeiffer and has way too much money. The Big Message of the movie is defined by Tony’s mentor, when he tells Tony that the greatest mistake one can make in this industry of ours is to become a “Khazer.” To get the correct pronunciation of this word, drink a gallon of chocolate milk, get that really good guttural Hhhhhiii like in Chaim, and end with zer. Hazor for the uninitiated. It means pig. Khazer means greed beyond greed. Being a Khazer is being gluttonous for the simple reason, you can. Our hero after having broke out of the mean street of Little Havana, rises to become one of the Masters of the Universe, only to slide into the dreaded Khazerdome, never to come out.

I learned a couple of things from watching Scarface the last time. If you are going to install a pretty massive surveillance system with multiple monitors stacked on your desk for viewing. Take a look every so often to make sure that the kids from Menudo aren’t hopping over your fence with Uzis and AK’s ready to redecorate the mansion. But the most important lesson I learned; Never do your stash. Sure, do a bump here and there, but if you’re using one of those fake big checks like the golfers get to cut up the yale and laying the lines out on twenty-four foot credenza, you’re doing too much. Once you do too much, you become a Khazer. Once you get too greedy, you get caught.

That’s what I know.

A lot of Weirdness going down in the City. I am not going to mention her name, her life is already in hell. The buzz of the City is all about a lab technician who got busted for taking some of her testing materials home. The problem, it was a police lab and she was testing coke, heroin, meth, and a host of other powders for court cases and the City of San Francisco. Well she got greedy and got busted.

Now there is scene that goes on most every day in our beloved Halls of Justice. This is one of the craziest happenings I’ve seen in a long time in a city known for crazy happenings.

Because this lab tech falsified results, took some evidence home for the weekends and I imagine for those raves South of Market where they still do coke, she has caused a sensation down at City Hall not seen since the days of when the cops got busted for making movies the way they wanted them to be.

http://articles.sfgate.com/2005-12-08/news/17401576_1_videos-drug-raid-bayview-station

If you want to do something fun and scary, go down to the Halls of Justice. There are literally thousands and thousands of cases being reviewed and for the most part, being thrown out because of this woman tampering with evidence. If they can’t get the case thrown out on its own merits, slimy PD’s are getting other cons off on technicalities.

One day there was a constant din of applause as case after case is being thrown out and may I say, some very scary people are walking out through those double-doors free that day. You would think they were electing a new president or pope by the enthusiastic clapping reverberating through the corredors. Then as Tre comes out to the high fives of his posse or some small headed dude wearing a Confederate flag cap grins showing his missing meth-decayed teeth shouting “Free at last, free at last.” It’s fucked up.

NORML states that a Pot Smoker is busted every forty-five seconds in America. That’s happening today. As 4/20 approaches, don’t forget all those who can’t get high when they want to. Real bad people are getting out to huge applause while simple freaks who would never hurt anyone, languishes behind bars.  

Nobody’s free until we’re all free.

More Later.



Going Forward Never Straight

Ahhhh, I can almost feel the seeds being planted up north. Inside grow houses, sheds, trailers, and warehouses arrays of incubating motherly grow lights nourish little armies of clones ready for the great outdoors, if that is their strains destination. Soon the outdoor season will begin in earnest as super Indicas and tasty Sativas are carefully transplanted into the rich Mendo soil signaling spring’s rebirth and another shitload of Weed that should coincide with the Day of Responsibility. The excitement is palatable all the way down here to the Haight. I don’t mean to be a broken record, but like an older stoner giving car directions to the unhip back in the day, “you don’t go straight, you go forward.” And we are going nothing but forward, my friends. The talk of Legalization is sprouting up everywhere from the Triangle to the Haight. My friends are a-buzzed to the gills with the possibilities of the November third, in the year of our Herb, the day that I call, Day of Responsibility. The day Weed will be legal. After some bill signing and other formalities that comes from transporting the once illegal to the now totally cool legal deal dime bags for the masses. The day we’ve been waiting for ever since that cop car came up behind us on the freeway really suspiciously while we were smoking a joint and we ate/threw-out/did something worse to the doobie, only to have the police car pass us and freak out the next stoners. Didn’t we all thing at that moment, one day I’m not going to have to do that thing I did with the joint instead of what I should have done like throw it out the window or it eat it. You should never have to feel bad about getting high.

Like I stated in an earlier blog, some of my friends are worried about Big Business taking it over. They worry the quality will go down. There will be controls and restrictions. Some people say that they still will buy on the Black Market the way they always have.

And then there are those, again friends of mine in their fifties and sixties, who on the day that Weed is made legal, they plan to go down to their local cop shops and stand outside the police gates and light up, letting their freak flags fly.

To say these are heady times is to make an understatement. Reporters from all major newspapers and magazines are sending stringers out here for scoops and stories. My friends up in Laytonville, the guys at Area 101 made it into the pages of the current issue of Rolling Stone regarding what is happin’ up in the Triangle. It is funny that all these reporters all come off like they’re on the outside as they report about the Emerald Triangle. Don’t get me wrong, I’m an outsider up there. Unless you’re part of the original tribe, we’re all outsiders north of the Marin County line. No matter how they try to tell the story about life in the Emerald Triangle, the press overstates the prices, hype the quality and fear the violence. The violence is real, oh yeah, how can there not be with so much green floating around. And when I say green, you know what I mean. Outsiders are arriving all the time trying to cash in. Locals who lost their straight jobs are now trying their green thumbs out in their own backdoors. “Dere Green in dere dem hills, Ah tellya.”

The Rush is definitely on...

April 17^th and 18^th is the International Cannabis and Hemp Expo here in San Francisco.

For complete transparency, I have a coffee mug that I have develop a design for so that when one adds a hot liquid to my mug, the picture of the Golden Gate Bridge transforms from a night shot of the bridge to a daylight shot with the bridge wrapped with pot leaves. It’s very cool.

 Watch out, here comes a shameless plug...

       http://www.growmugs.com/

Back from business, ahem...so the Intche is opening here in a couple of weeks. Not only as a vendor am I excited but there is going to be a two-day event celebrating the properties of the Yerba Buena. There will be speakers and booths. My booth is actually next to High Times Celebrity Stoner booth, so you know I’m psyched. Two days of people coming together for their love of hemp and the most promising future. Because where ever you go these days in Cali, people are shaking their collective thinking; this is going to be legal. This year!!! Really!!!

For those of us who having dodging John Law while still striving to bang the gong to a regular beat, the idea of not being busted for freely smoking a doobie, well, it almost brings tears to this blogger’s tired, red, swollen, glazed, hard-to-see-out-sometimes-because-of these-tiny-dolphin-like-floating-things-that-I’ve-asked-the-doctor-about-but-he-says-I’m okay over-worked eyes. The time is coming. The New York Times wrote about how Mothers against Marijuana is already forming. But no matter what periodical or news type knowledge base you draw your information from, they all agree on one thing. The general public is ready for Weed to be legal for sale. More and more polls show the voters are ready. They had more than enough signatures to get it on the ballot here in Cali. There isn’t a politician running in the state this year that hasn’t been asked their feelings on the Legalization of Weed in Cali.(They’re all against it, even Jerry Brown) But even though the politicians are against it now, there is one big reason it gonna happen. One reason and one reason only, FIFTY FUCKING DOLLARS ON THE OUNCE. I’m not screaming or yelling. I’m just stating in big black letters the one sole reason that after seventy-three years of lives being ruin. That the law could unlawfully leverage an individual to talk, to give something up because they had indulged in a libation, nay, a passion that they desired for themselves while never hurting anyone else. That woman up in Colorado could get life in prison because a guy she just met sold pounds of dope to undercover agents who needed to a fill a quota for a well-organized desk in Washington, DC, that does much little else besides for punching in on a scorecard, the fatalities, the body count that drives the dollars that funds the war on drugs.

For a tax of fifty dollars on an ounce, all this can one day be yours, Cheech. Just got to figure out the tax sitch’, dude. For all the anxious talk about what is going to happen. Maybe the Man is going to destroy something so righteous as the dope trade by taking it over. How about the fear that Phil Morris is going to corner the market by having the corner markets only being able to buy from him? Until the political sativa-smoking action Pacs educate straight America about the incredible advantages of taxing Weed, we are never going forward. And the good news?

In these hard times, they all for it. Our Guvanor Ahnold is for it. Moms and Pops are for it. Cops are iffy, but they’re never sure what side to be on anyways. The people have seen the light and their using the flame like never before. It’s all happening.

More Later.



GOD Hates Scams

Okay, when I’m wrong, I’m wrong. Couple of months ago I had this brilliant idea to mess with a group of people who at first I didn’t know much about them except their name, “God Hates Fags.” With a come-hither tease of a tag of a name like that, I wasn’t sure of their politics but I knew I wanted to mess with them.

The God Hates Fags Church, and that’s what they are, were coming to San Francisco to protest at Jewish day centers, the Jewish Community Center, the plays, “Rent”, and “Fiddler on the Roof.” Seriously. Not only does the Church which is founded by one family named the Phelps, have a problem with the gays but also the Jews. Their mission while in San Francisco was to bring awareness to their cause that Jews are destroying the world and other such shite. Besides, everyone knows that Jews aren't destroying the world, just NBC’s nightly programming.

So I had this idea to infiltrate the group and march with the Family Phelps. Big Mistake.

I wore my best Andy Williams Christmas sweater and slacks in my attempt to fit in with my new found goyim minion. TeamBrian, my camera crew and I piled into TeamBrian’s production vehicle and drove over the SF’s JCC.

My idea was demonstrate against the amount of Christmas songs written by Jews. Let’s start with “White Christmas.” Done. White Christmas was scribe by a Mister Irving Berlin while eating smoked fish, marinated herring and a nice tomato. True story. So my idea was to protest all the songs written by Jews and start to encourage ‘my people’ to write some new ones. Basically, let’s put Christ back into Christmas.

I don’t know what I was expecting but when I got to the JCC, there was a place exclusively set up for the God Hates Fags Church and a separate area blocked off for other protesters. The police were out in full force plus a sprinkling of Mossad agents walking around trying to look normal. Whatever I had been thinking, once the Phelps arrived, the game was not only on, but it changed. These people were evil.

I knew about them from what I had seen on TV and YouTube. Their M.O. is to go to Gay servicemen and women’s funerals and protest. Did I say protest? I meant to say disrupt. They’re anger and hatred is so great, they travel the U.S., attending the burials of soldiers that gave their lives for this country and cause trouble.

I thought I would try to give back to them for all the work they’ve done.

I was out of my element. The Phelps family are pro’s at what they do. They are well organized and know the drills like the way they must have worked on their talking points in the bus on the way out from Kansas. There is no getting at these people. They are surrounded by a bubble of hate that these pricks don’t want to pop. I was up close and looked into their eyes. I am seriously worried about writing this. They are evil.

You can check out the YouTube to see what happen that day. Nothing worked out the way I planned it. I was outed by my people at the JCC for being a member of the tribe. I don’t think I look that Jewey, but you know Jewdar...

That day I had to stop and think what I was doing. I’ve been an activist all my life but this was different. The way the Father Phelps commanded the people around him with such force by giving the young women who accompany him, a look, and they knew to shut up to my questions. These people knew what it was like to be on a battlefield while I was being traumatized by the shocked and awed of the event standing frozen by fear in my little yellow sweater. I had to leave.

They won...

They out creeped me.

Thank the Lord for his invention of the Internet. God Loves Networking.

I went home freaked. TeamBrian drove while I muttered, “What was I expecting?”

Once in the Cave I started to do more research on the Phelps family. It was all there in that series of tubes we call the ‘Net. The causing of havoc and confusion on a family’s most sacred day. Protesting anything Jewish. How the Kansas’ police look the other way for this family and let them be. But then something else caught my eye. The Phelps’s family attorney.

Here’s the Dealio...

It is all a scam. Yes the Phelps family of Topeka, Kansas, leaders of the Westboro Baptist Church, really does hate anyone different from them, that includes most of humanity. They really do feel all sexuality should be repressed and told to live on a bus with an old, white guy giving directions where the bus goes next. But what they do is incite. They are the Flim-Flam Family.

They stage protest at funerals and day care centers waiting to be pushed or have some of THEIR rights violated. Then they sue. And they win. They win big.

Imagine you’re burying your child who gave his life for his or her country. They might have dove on a grenade or innocently took a bomb checking out a village or a house. You’re lowering the coffin and then this group of people who only desire is to disrupt and mock your child’s funeral. What would you do?

Well the Flim-Flam Family counts on you doing something and this scam makes them a lot of money.

The Flim-Flam Family struck again. They protested at a funeral for a marine killed in Iraq. The father of the fallen of marine got into with the Flim-Flam Family and something ensued. Then there were court cost.

The father of the fallen soldier, Marine Lance Cpl. Matthew Snyder, was ordered to pay to the Flim-Flam Family, the amount of $16,510. Mr. Snyder is having a hard time coming up with the cash.  

The Flim-Flam Family is protected by the First Amendment. For the very reason soldiers give their lives so the Flim-Flam Family can do its thing.

To donate go to:

http://www.matthewsnyder.org/



Rebels without Clues

So the headlines read, “California to have legalization of Marijuana on the ballot in November.” As my dedicated followers knows, or as I refer to my readership as the ‘Duo of Greatness,’ and I do thank you both, I have been predicting that not only will legalization be on our ballot this year, it will pass. That is why I have been talking about the Responsibility of Legalization, now. So we can be ready when it happens. We’re lucky to have Richard Lee on our side. Along with the other forefather and mothers of Legalization, Richard is building a political machine that is going to be hard to take down after we get our joint handed to us, legally.

Why legalization?

Taxes, taxes, taxes. That is the easy answer. When talking about Legalization, it all gets back to the money. Let’s face facts; it is the cash that is going to bring in the straights. Yeah, in this hurting economy, the timing may be right for legalization because we need to keep police and firemen working. Wouldn’t it be funny if we funded the cops with pot revenue? And more to the point, what if the legalization allowed cops to really do their job and catch bad guys?

Check this out...

Over in Ireland, your average club-goer has found a new drug. Imagine a hooligan with black cut-off gloves adjusting his C’mon Eileen black britches in the mirror. He likes what he sees before taking a swig off his Lite ‘n Bitter, a drag off a spliff, and then before donning his lucky green hat, drops a few bath salts down the gullet, finishes the beer and hits the streets. That’s right, bath salts.

It seems that Ireland has laws that allow headshops to stay open till four a.m. and the kids queue up for hits of this bath salt to drop and party with. The bath salts contain the drug called mephadrone. And you know that any drug that sounds like Meth means you’re going to be speeding and losing teeth soon. The kids take it like poppers. Okay here’s the deal.

This new drug has taken the streets by storm. No one saw it coming. Cops don’t know how to bust the kids for a drug that is still legal. Parents are concern. But here’s the funny part. The local mob, read organize crime, has been, how shall we say, letting the local headshops know that they are stepping on the product of their business. In other words, the Calgon cocktail is taking a bite out of their coke trade. Headshops are being torched and vandalized. All this violence is because of this new, legal drug that is upsetting the applecart for the bad guys. See, legal puts the bad guys out of business.   

One Toke over the Goalpost Sweet Jesus...

It has been reported that the top college football players when asked about Marijuana use, over a third of the players up for the pros, have had a “history with Marijuana.” The question is, are you going to pass on these top players as per your scouting report because of Weed use, or are you going to let them play and change with the times? And if Weed is so bad for you? How come the top players can use it?

One last thing...

I hate American Idol. It has no place in this universe or any other. I don’t know the music. I hate the people. It’s not even a guilty pleasure. Walking by the telly Tuesday night, I saw this God awful Karaokefest from Hades. There was this kid, a youngster coming to the microphone. The Idol kidz were doing Billboard’s 100 songs. That meant they could do any song that was in the top 100 of country, pop, rock, whatever. This kid announced he was doing the song from the Boxtop’s, “The Letter.” Not only did he do a shitty version of the song but there wasn’t one person on the stage that night that recognized that the author of the song, Alex Chilton, had passed away a week ago. Not one of the music people sitting down acknowledged the passing of one of the industry’s unsung heroes. And so Alex Chilton was left unsung, hanging out in Memphis all the while...

   Bye you big star...

Of course there will be more later...

Another Brand New Day

With the thousands of new strains being developed and cultivated for the growing masses seemingly every week, I’m really surprise some enterprising slacked-eyed scientist hasn’t come up with a breed of Weed that is known for its tenacious strength, pleasant bouquet and an over-all impossible not-to-like-high and call it...I dunno...BarackNRolla...maybe...Sweet Bama...Who knows? For that radical strain of Hope and Change...The Husseinster?

Yesterday was one of the biggest days in America’s history. The passage of the health care bill as it is written for a lot of us were less than perfect but it was a major step in change. Barack gave a quick press conference at fifteen minutes before midnight marking the historical importance of the moment and to let his detractors on both sides know that this is what “Change looks like.” George W. Bush never stayed up past nine in his two terms of playing president, and that’s including two wars and a vice-presidential shooting spree. When the votes came in, it was more shocking and awesome than any bombing I’ve ever see. It makes you feel good to be an American again.

What all this means to me is quality of life. That with health care we bring solutions to those who no longer need to feel that they are suffering needlessly alone. And of course what eases pain and suffering you ask? Why medicine I say.

But what kind of medicine you ask?

Wouldn’t it be scary if Marijuana solved most of the medical problems in the world? Okay, not solved, but eased the process. Y’know...The ol’ spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down, if you will, so says Jackie Poppins.

In Colorado, psychiatrists are finding that Weed helps in the treatment of veterans returning from war with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). Can you imagine if some Blueberry Kush was the answer for some four toured burned-out vet coming in from the Suck in Afghanistan? Could you ever indulge for a nanosecond that even if Medical Marijuana did work. Really help our soldiers who have given their lives and souls for this country. Do you think in any other administration we would even be having this conversation with a possible real endgame in mind? It’s no longer just talk. Here in California, Weed is gonna be legal soon, but that is just the start. The conversation about the therapeutic possibilities of Weed is taking root in every major American City. We are witnessing an incredible time in America.

As I have stated here before, as Stoners, we need to be smart and thoughtful. Not fear the government take-over of Weed when legalization comes but work with the process. Cultivate and trim it for our purposes. Believe it will happen and it will.

More Later...