Only cops and crooks have benefited from $2.5 trillion spent fighting trafficking.

[thewholetruth]

FWIW, I'll weigh in on this "sir" thing:



I would not call it "aggressive" to use the term "sir", but I don't think "term of respect" describes its use quite accurately either. When I was required to call officers "sir" in the Army, they called it "respect", but it was clearly about submission, which is only mistaken for respect by those with authoritarian tendencies.

In civilian life, "sir" bothers me a bit because it usually seems to have a distancing effect, with undertones of hierarchical structuring of relationships (who's dominant, who's submissive). But in fairness, I think it is often intended as a term of respect.

I'm quite comfortable with you using "sir" if you want, Don. Heathen knows there are more important things to worry about. I'd like to give you the benefit of the doubt and think you use it as a term of respect...

Thank you.


... but perhaps you can see that it's hard to feel respected when you call us things like "fool" for disagreeing with you...

It's an interesting place to be, a message board like this. I've always felt that either a person is open to learning the truth or they are not. As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another, and I've found message boards to serve that purpose for me personally, to the point of having significant impact and facilitating major change in my thinking and so, in my life. The changes which have taken place in my mind and in my heart, and so, in my life since I began to participate in boards like this would never have taken place if people hadn't shared openly and honestly their thoughts, knowledge and opinions. It's forced me to assess and reassess my own beliefs and opinions, and continues to do so today.

That being said, when someone posts foolishness (it has a definition, you know, as does "fool" - see https://dictionary.reference.com/browse/fool #12 for the opposite of "fool" which, IMO, should be the goal of adults, as iron sharpens iron, and as there is wisdom in the counsel of many), I see no reason not to say so, if that's is how I perceive it. I trust that if someone has some facts with which to show me that it's not foolishness at all, they will, in turn, present them. Our country has developed within her a horribly codependent nature that is based on foolishness and ignorance. I can't not see it. Driven by personal agenda ALWAYS (it either makes us feel good or serves to get people to like us, or supports our misconceived notion that anything might be more important than the truth (talking about adults now, not about children).

In short, someone has called me on my foolishness along the way and it's helped me (still helps me) to see the truth about many things, things about which I had bought into completely or partially, which had a significant impact on my life and relationships. If ever I refer to one's comments as those which are a fool's comments, please correct me if I'm wrong. If there are facts or circumstances which prove a given statement to be TRUE and NOT a lie from Hell, I trust that the adults who post here will offer that up in order to correct me.

For calling anyone here a "fool", I apologize. We all buy into foolish notions from time to time, and so the same could be said about all of us. Perhaps if I took more time to proofread, walk away, come back and reread what I'm about to post, most certainly my comments would be different than are with me posting on the fly like I do. Again, I apologize for calling anyone a "fool" here. What would have been more accurate would have been to refer to their comment as "foolishness".


...or characterize our positions as "lies from Hell", or suggest we should be criminalized for using different drugs than you even if we're hurting no one. If you could show a little more respect in those ways, I'm sure the "sir' issue would disappear entirely.

Regards;

Dixon

There is no doubt in my mind, sir, that if information being offered isn't the truth, then it is either a mistake or it is a blatant lie from Hell. I am one who subscribes to the belief that we are in the middle of spiritual warfare here in this life, and those things which are said which convince people of, or make people believe lies, IMO, are just that: lies from Hell. Frankly, if someone tells me that what I'm purporting to be truth is a lie from Hell, I'll quickly take a look at what my statement is based upon.

Like Bob Dylan so aptly noted: You gotta serve somebody. It might be the Devil or it might be the Lord but you gotta serve somebody. I believe that is the truth, and that Bob was right about that. Not everyone agrees, I know, but I will not compromise what I know to be truth in order not to hurt another adult's feelings. I have more respect than that for other people. Love your neighbor as your self? I would want to be told if someone thinks I've bought into lies from Hell, Dixon, so I can at least take a look at it. I hope this takes a little of the sting out of my remarks for you, Dixon, so that you might engage more fully, being less offended, knowing where I'm coming from. I'm simply iron, sharpening iron, or else the other iron is pulling away, in which case it is not being sharpened at all. In that case, I move on, seeking more iron with which to rub up against. And I understand that some iron isn't seeking to be sharpened. In those cases, a message board like this might not be the optimal place to spend their time, because someone just might care enought to disagree...

[thewholetruth]

Not true, Sir Don Christian.

Not true, Sir Don Christian.

Here to seek the truth and intelligent dialogue, I reach over and put Ms. Terry back onto my personal "ignore" list, until such time that her antiChristian bigotry no longer squirts out of her comments at me...

[MsTerry]

Here to seek the truth and intelligent dialogue, I reach over and put Ms. Terry back onto my personal "ignore" list, until such time that her antiChristian bigotry no longer squirts out of her comments at me...
I'm honored and flattered to know that you keep a special place for me :thumbsup:
Oh, BTW, it was You Sir Don who asked me to address you with the word Christian :thumbsup:

MsTerry wrote: https://www.waccobb.net/forums/waccobb/orangebuttons/viewpost.gif (https://www.waccobb.net/forums/showthread.php?p=63684#post63684)
Should I start calling you names too? Which one do you prefer?
<!-- END TEMPLATE: bbcode_quote -->

"Christian" would work for me. "Sir" works for me, as well,
Did you conveniently forget? :hmmm:
I thought I should follow your example, and address people like you politely.
How come you got offended now?

[Lorrie]

<TABLE class=MsoNormalTable style="MARGIN-LEFT: 6.75pt; WIDTH: 99.2%; MARGIN-RIGHT: 6.75pt" cellSpacing=0 cellPadding=0 width="99%" align=left border=0><TBODY><TR><TD style="PADDING-RIGHT: 1.5pt; PADDING-LEFT: 1.5pt; PADDING-BOTTOM: 1.5pt; WIDTH: 100%; PADDING-TOP: 1.5pt" width="100%">

TWO WOLVES<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /><o:p></o:p>


<o:p></o:p>
One evening an old Cherokee told his grandson about a battle that goes on inside all people.<o:p></o:p>

He said, 'My son, the battle is between two 'wolves' inside us all.

One is Evil. It is anger, envy, jealousy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, <o:p></o:p>
resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego.

The other is Good. It is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, <o:p></o:p>
empathy, generosity, truth, compassion and faith.'

The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather: <o:p></o:p>
'Which wolf wins?'<o:p></o:p>
The old Cherokee simply replied, 'The one you feed.'<o:p></o:p>
</TD></TR></TBODY></TABLE>

["Mad" Miles]

Re: "Sir" as a form of Respect,

For years, whenever someone addressed me as Sir, I would reply. Please don't call me Sir, I'm the son, grandson and great-great-grandson of Army officers, and now I'm an anti-militarist, when I was a kid I wanted to be a Medieval Knight, until I realized they were just the most successful rapist, pillagers and murderers of their time, I work for a living, don't call me Sir.

Then I became a school teacher, doing a lot of subbing in the beginning. Now I teach at San Quentin. I was, and am, addressed as Sir on a regular basis. I take Sir as a term of respect, I use it often now myself. Who has the time to explain over and over? (Although I do raise the issue once and while, like in this instance.)

Sir came from Master. Mister is a softening of the same, reflecting the rise of the egalitarian Middle Class.

It's complicated. As in all things it's a matter of interpretation, and context.

Have a good evening Ladies and Gentlemen,

"Mad" Miles

:burngrnbounce:

P.S. I work with "cops and crooks" four days a week, ten hours a day. And yes a lot of it is about the war on drugs. Among other interrelated factors.
(Poverty, Racism, Broken families without support, overcrowded underfunded badly organized schools and no mental health care being the other big ones. And yes, there are a few sociopaths and psychopaths out there, and inside, but they are a very small minority.)

[thewholetruth]

I'm honored and flattered to know that you keep a special place for me :thumbsup:
Oh, BTW, it was You Sir Don who asked me to address you with the word Christian :thumbsup:
<!-- END TEMPLATE: bbcode_quote -->
Did you conveniently forget? :hmmm:
I thought I should follow your example, and address people like you politely.
How come you got offended now?

I didn't ask you to address me with the word Christian, Ma'am. You are simply mistaken about that.

[thewholetruth]

Good for you, Miles. We work with the same kinds of individuals, although in different settings. I appreciate your work, sir.


Re: "Sir" as a form of Respect,

For years, whenever someone addressed me as Sir, I would reply. Please don't call me Sir, I'm the son, grandson and great-great-grandson of Army officers, and now I'm an anti-militarist, when I was a kid I wanted to be a Medieval Knight, until I realized they were just the most successful rapist, pillagers and murderers of their time, I work for a living, don't call me Sir.

Then I became a school teacher, doing a lot of subbing in the beginning. Now I teach at San Quentin. I was, and am, addressed as Sir on a regular basis. I take Sir as a term of respect, I use it often now myself. Who has the time to explain over and over? (Although I do raise the issue once and while, like in this instance.)

Sir came from Master. Mister is a softening of the same, reflecting the rise of the egalitarian Middle Class.

It's complicated. As in all things it's a matter of interpretation, and context.

Have a good evening Ladies and Gentlemen,

"Mad" Miles

:burngrnbounce:

P.S. I work with "cops and crooks" four days a week, ten hours a day. And yes a lot of it is about the war on drugs. Among other interrelated factors.
(Poverty, Racism, Broken families without support, overcrowded underfunded badly organized schools and no mental health care being the other big ones. And yes, there are a few sociopaths and psychopaths out there, and inside, but they are a very small minority.)

[thewholetruth]

I'm honored and flattered to know that you keep a special place for me :thumbsup:
Oh, BTW, it was You Sir Don who asked me to address you with the word Christian :thumbsup:
<!-- END TEMPLATE: bbcode_quote -->
Did you conveniently forget? :hmmm:
I thought I should follow your example, and address people like you politely.
How come you got offended now?

I've not been Knighted, Ma'am, nor have I ever asked anyone to call me "Christian". I detect mucho sarcasm and acid attitude in your posts toward me, both generally and specifically from post to post.

I'm not offended. I simply ignore those who wish to do battle with me, most of the time.

[Zeno Swijtink]

Re: "Sir" as a form of Respect

One sir is ok. Sirring every third sentence feels like rhetorical gunfire.

[thewholetruth]

One sir is ok. Sirring every third sentence feels like rhetorical gunfire.

Feelings just are, sir. Don't put a lot of value on them personally, much of the time. They come, they go, sometimes valid, sometimes not, oftentimes random, sometimes foul, illegal, immoral, irrational, ridiculous, powerful, intense, amazing, incredible...but the truth is that they just are. They don't always mean something, nor is it necessary to say or do something just because I have one.

Seriously, if someone calling you sir on a regular basis, sir, "feels like rhetorical gunfire", then I would tend to abandon and ignore that feeling, myself. It's not worth the time it takes to even acknowledge it's there...IMHO, anyway. :thumbsup:

[thewholetruth]

One sir is ok. Sirring every third sentence feels like rhetorical gunfire.

I'm in a big place 5 days a week, sometimes 50-60 hours a week (that dang salary). Nearly 100 beds and I call everyone either Mr. Soandso or sir. I counsel a lot of people every day, and I counsel the counselors, maintain ongoing active relationships with Parole, Probation, the DA's office, Public Defender's office, private attorneys, other treatment centers and local businesses and individuals seeking treatment for themselves or for a friend or family member. I talk to a lot of people. I use the term "sir" a lot every day.

Don't take it personally. I use it as a term of respect...sir.

[Zeno Swijtink]

Feelings just are, sir. Don't put a lot of value on them personally, much of the time. They come, they go, sometimes valid, sometimes not, oftentimes random, sometimes foul, illegal, immoral, irrational, ridiculous, powerful, intense, amazing, incredible...but the truth is that they just are. They don't always mean something, nor is it necessary to say or do something just because I have one.

Seriously, if someone calling you sir on a regular basis, sir, "feels like rhetorical gunfire", then I would tend to abandon and ignore that feeling, myself. It's not worth the time it takes to even acknowledge it's there...IMHO, anyway. :thumbsup:

But doesn't your intention to be polite have a lot to do with an expectation that being polite evokes feelings of amity? You must have some interest and attach some importance to feelings.

[Zeno Swijtink]

I'm in a big place 5 days a week, sometimes 50-60 hours a week (that dang salary). Nearly 100 beds and I call everyone either Mr. Soandso or sir. I counsel a lot of people every day, and I counsel the counselors, maintain ongoing active relationships with Parole, Probation, the DA's office, Public Defender's office, private attorneys, other treatment centers and local businesses and individuals seeking treatment for themselves or for a friend or family member. I talk to a lot of people. I use the term "sir" a lot every day.

Don't take it personally. I use it as a term of respect...sir.

But if you sir every third sentence, isn't that a sign that you are on autopilot? Relax, this is not work, and there is no salary :):

[Lenny]

Quote:
Lenny wrote: https://www.waccobb.net/forums/waccobb/orangebuttons/viewpost.gif (https://www.waccobb.net/forums/showthread.php?p=64351#post64351)
History, Jeff.
Chinese to be specific, circa 1700 to 1904.
Or more recently, a quick snapshot of USA, circa 1964, prior to LSD becoming illegal.
Maybe that's why it became illegal? Do ya think?
Fire good. No, Fire bad.......


Couple of minor points Lenny: we aren't in China. The year is 2008. Things are different.

You are right. It is a minor point. No matter what group, race, place or year, human beings are human. The availability of drugs in the mass population will lead to the problems of that period: folks getting strung out. Just as it happened with US from 1880 to 1914 as you pointed out in the "History of Bayer" or heroin you cited. Decriminalize and they will come in increasing numbers, ruinous to the population. Not a minor point, simply history.



So let's look at 1964. What happened? Perhaps you could remind us.
And this was the question that you didn't answer:

Quote:
Braggi wrote:
So, Lenny, would you start habitually taking LSD if it were legalized tomorrow? How many people that you know well would?
Perhaps you could try again.
-Jeff

Well, Jeff, that was personal and anecdotal for the most part. Having grown up in San Francisco and being on "the scene" that was the year in California LSD became illegal to sell or posses. This was due to folks taking it and "getting out there" with not a lot of anybody knowing how to deal with it. Actually I think it became illegal to sell and then a few months later, illegal to posses. Actually folks were out here for a couple of years prior to that taking LSD. As Timothy Leary and Richard Alpert and a few others were still at Harvard touting their East Coast trips, out here folks were doing other things with that acid. Lots of folks out here booed Leary and associates as he wanted folks to take acid HIS way and he was thought as a "fascist" type of guy!
Anyway, it is clear and easy to see why LSD was made illegal.
Oh,and to answer your personal question: no, LSD would not be taken daily, though I know of those that did back in the day. Too bad. But then LSD is not that kind of drug now, is it? As is other Class 1 drugs are, no?

[MsTerry]

I didn't ask you to address me with the word Christian, Ma'am. You are simply mistaken about that.
No Don, thewholetruth is that you are lying now.


"Christian" would work for me. "Sir" works for me, as well,

[MsTerry]

I've not been Knighted, Ma'am, nor have I ever asked anyone to call me "Christian".
you are repeating a lie


"Christian" would work for me. "Sir" works for me, as well,

[MsTerry]

I'm not offended. I simply ignore those who wish to do battle with me, most of the time.

How many time does the rooster have to crow, Don???

[thewholetruth]

But if you sir every third sentence, isn't that a sign that you are on autopilot? Relax, this is not work, and there is no salary :):

No, sir. It's a sign of respect. :heart:

[thewholetruth]

How many time does the rooster have to crow, Don???

To get to the other side?

Ohhh, that's the chicken riddle I'm thinking of. I'll bite. How many, Ma'am?

[thewholetruth]

you are repeating a lie

I didn't ask you to call me that, like you said I did, Ma'am. I simply said it would work for me. Your intentional disrespect is glaringly obvious, Ms. Terry. I'm not going to play this game where you pretend it's not.

Have a nice day, Ma'am...

[thewholetruth]

No Don, thewholetruth is that you are lying now.

I never asked you to call me "Christian", Ma'am. I said it would work for me, not that I ASKED you to call me that.

Seems to me it was in response to your calling me something disrespectful, wasn't it, Ma'am? :hmmm:

[MsTerry]

I I detect mucho sarcasm and acid attitude in your posts toward me, both generally and specifically from post to post.

Yes, Don you do elicit quite some sarcasm on this board, not just from me. Maybe you have surrounded yourself with people that nod their heads everytime you say something, and you have come to the conclusion that everything you say is The Truth.
Your unwillingness or inability to hear what other people are saying, with even as simple a thing as Zeno explaining to you that your Sirring people is not considered kind or polite, is quite baffling.
You can't even hear or understand that!
Instead my making fun of your Sirring and your request to call you Christian, get you all riled up, and then to top it off, you deny that you are offended by it or that you even said such a thing!
Don, honestly, take a deep breath, give your self a break.
You need some time off.

[MsTerry]

Seems to me it was in response to your calling me something disrespectful, wasn't it, Ma'am? :hmmm:
No Don, it actually was in response to YOU calling me something disrespectful.
you can read for yourself, Sir

[MsTerry]

Don, if you gave me permission to call you Sir and Christian, what is your real problem?


I never asked you to call me "Christian", Ma'am. I said it would work for me, not that I ASKED you to call me that.

[MsTerry]

Jee, Don
I thought you actually had READ the bible.
The rooster crowed to expose a liar, did you conveniently skip that part?

To get to the other side?

Ohhh, that's the chicken riddle I'm thinking of. I'll bite. How many, Ma'am?

[kpage9]

Hey, TWT, you can't tell someone else to adopt a zen-like attitude, ever, but especially in reaction to YOUR utterances. (I mean ONE's--not you in particular.) We have a common language because we can miraculously draw common meaning from the words that flow between us.

"Sir"ring someone every third word IS rhetorical gunfire, just as repeating the other person's name every other sentence is scolding and condescending. That's the common meaning.

You may be above the fray, and good on ya for it, but asking someone else to rise above their reactions to you--and trying to look wiser than they are while you're at it--hardly ever actually gets the desired outcome.

kathy



Feelings just are, sir. Don't put a lot of value on them personally, much of the time. They come, they go, sometimes valid, sometimes not, oftentimes random, sometimes foul, illegal, immoral, irrational, ridiculous, powerful, intense, amazing, incredible...but the truth is that they just are. They don't always mean something, nor is it necessary to say or do something just because I have one.

Seriously, if someone calling you sir on a regular basis, sir, "feels like rhetorical gunfire", then I would tend to abandon and ignore that feeling, myself. It's not worth the time it takes to even acknowledge it's there...IMHO, anyway. :thumbsup:

[Braggi]

... You are right. It is a minor point. No matter what group, race, place or year, human beings are human. The availability of drugs in the mass population will lead to the problems of that period: folks getting strung out. Just as it happened with US from 1880 to 1914 as you pointed out in the "History of Bayer" or heroin you cited. Decriminalize and they will come in increasing numbers, ruinous to the population. Not a minor point, simply history. ...


No, you are just plain wrong, Lenny, and you're not being either forthcoming or honest here, I think. You are evading questions and facts.

Nobody is going to successfully market heroin in the United States as a cough medicine or as a non-habit forming treatment for morphine addiction.
The population is better informed now, though, due to the mismanagement of the Failed War on Some Drugs, many young people don't believe what the Government has to say on the topic, or, by extension, on much of anything. We have work to do informing the youth about the pleasures and perils of drug use and abuse. In my opinion, injecting heroin to get high is abuse. I think in most other people's minds it is as well. Even Don will agree with that.

If heroin became legal and available to you tomorrow, Lenny, would you go down and buy a large quantity and start using it? Would you give it to your family members? Would your neighbors that you know well start using it?

Please start with some personal honesty here. Integrity in responses builds respect and trust on these forums.

-Jeff

[thewholetruth]

No, you are just plain wrong, Lenny, and you're not being either forthcoming or honest here, I think. You are evading questions and facts.

Nobody is going to successfully market heroin in the United States as a cough medicine or as a non-habit forming treatment for morphine addiction.
The population is better informed now, though, due to the mismanagement of the Failed War on Some Drugs, many young people don't believe what the Government has to say on the topic, or, by extension, on much of anything. We have work to do informing the youth about the pleasures and perils of drug use and abuse. In my opinion, injecting heroin to get high is abuse. I think in most other people's minds it is as well. Even Don will agree with that.

If heroin became legal and available to you tomorrow, Lenny, would you go down and buy a large quantity and start using it? Would you give it to your family members? Would your neighbors that you know well start using it?

Please start with some personal honesty here. Integrity in responses builds respect and trust on these forums.

-Jeff

You are assuming much, Jeff, when you pretend that the public isn't going to try heroin if were legal, same as alcohol and cigarettes. The message legality sends is "safe" and heroin is not. I remember a day, Jeff, when I would have tried and used anything that was legal. In fact, I'm pretty sure I've already done that. Most of us do that, I suspect.

And it doesn't take "a large quantity" of heroin to get the addiction started. Heroin is highly physically addicting, even to those who aren't addictive by nature, Jeff.

Frankly, sir, there isn't an argument you can make in favor of legalizing hard drugs that history hasn't already disproven. Again, you can try to paint it a different color than we've already seen in history, but if you spray paint a turd gold, it's still a turd, Jeff. Your ideas on legalizing heroin/LSD/Ecstasy/etc., it seems to me, are the same as the turds of yesteryear, already thought up, already tried, already failed, just another attempt at making narcotics legal. It's not good for society, Jeff. You can see that. I don't know why you waste your own time, even, in fantasizing that somehow this time it will be different...

[thewholetruth]

Hey, TWT, you can't tell someone else to adopt a zen-like attitude, ever, but especially in reaction to YOUR utterances. (I mean ONE's--not you in particular.)

Yo, K, I'm not asking anyone to do anything "in reaction to [my] utterances", Ma'am. I've simply explained that I mean no disrespect. I know I can't control how you (I mean ONE's--not you in particular) perceive my comments, nor do I even have the desire to control that about you. No desire on my part to dictate how you SHOULD respond, either. I've simply explained that I mean no disrespect.


We have a common language because we can miraculously draw common meaning from the words that flow between us.

Amen.


"Sir"ring someone every third word IS rhetorical gunfire...

Just as "every third word" is gross exaggeration. No one said anything about "every third word", K. I certainly haven't "sir'ed" anyone every third word. Perhaps that's why your comments seem to be overreactive: you misunderstood. Someone said "every third sentence" I believe, not every third word.


... just as repeating the other person's name every other sentence is scolding and condescending. That's the common meaning.

That is your opinion, not my opinion. You can call me "Don" all night long, every third word if you like, and I'll not take offense. Why would I? Because you say it has a "common meaning"? I would disagree with you on that.


You may be above the fray, and good on ya for it...

What "fray" is that, exactly, K?


... but asking someone else to rise above their reactions to you--and trying to look wiser than they are while you're at it--hardly ever actually gets the desired outcome.

kathy

I'm just talkin' here, K. That's all. If it seems as if I'm "trying to look wiser than they are", I'd love some specific examples. IMO, I'm just having ordinary conversation. Help me out, will you K? Show me what prompts you to accuse me of "trying to look wiser than" anyone here, specifically. Post numbers would be helpful, along with specific statements which appear to be that, IYO. Something caused you to accuse me of this, and I'd love to know - specifically - what I said which prompted that accusation. Thanks.

[pbrinton]

Yo, K, I'm not asking anyone to do anything "in reaction to [my] utterances", Ma'am. I've simply explained that I mean no disrespect. I know I can't control how you (I mean ONE's--not you in particular) perceive my comments, nor do I even have the desire to control that about you. No desire on my part to dictate how you SHOULD respond, either. I've simply explained that I mean no disrespect.

...and so on, ad infant item

Folks, give it up already. You are dealing here with a highly skilled and intelligent passive-aggressive. His purpose is not to engage in a reasoned discussion striving towards a resolution, or even a spirited exchange of perhaps mutually exclusive opinions. The constant repetition of "sir" and peoples' names is indeed generally recognized in our culture as aggression, but in addition it shows clearly that his concern is with the person not the ideas being debated. He just enjoys pissing people off. I am sure he believes in the positions he takes, and I pretty much disagree with him right across the board, but I see no sense in engaging in dialog with him, as you will never convince him of anything. You are playing on the white squares, and he is playing on the black squares.

Maybe the time you all collectively spend beating your heads against this particular wall would be better spent in some more serene pursuit.

Patrick Brinton

[Zeno Swijtink]

No, you are just plain wrong, Lenny, and you're not being either forthcoming or honest here, I think. You are evading questions and facts.
....

Please start with some personal honesty here. Integrity in responses builds respect and trust on these forums.

-Jeff

Jeff, What's up? I thought you left for Paris yesterday? Are you texting from your plane? Or am I confused about the whole Friday in Europe is still Thursday in the US of A thing? Or is it the other way around?? Hope you know how to say "plain honesty" and "personal wrong"-doing in French. Or am I all confused?? Anyway, hope you have a swell time! - Z

[Braggi]

Jeff, What's up? I thought you left for Paris yesterday? Are you texting from your plane? ...

We have the French Connection.

We are there ...

-Jeff

[Braggi]

You are assuming much, Jeff, when you pretend that the public isn't going to try heroin if were legal, same as alcohol and cigarettes. ...

I assume nothing. Cigarette and tobacco use in general is down every year across the US. That is because it is legal and the propaganda against is largely true. The propaganda against marijuana is largely false. Big difference. The kids are smart enough to know the difference.


... The message legality sends is "safe" and heroin is not. I remember a day, Jeff, when I would have tried and used anything that was legal. In fact, I'm pretty sure I've already done that. Most of us do that, I suspect. ...

The messages are now confused and inconsistent. That will need to change, and I believe legalization will pave the way for that. It's possible and even likely that the "new generation" is smarter than you or me Don. :wink:


... Frankly, sir, there isn't an argument you can make in favor of legalizing hard drugs that history hasn't already disproven. ...

We have never before been at this point in history. As far as drug lore is concerned there has been an amazing renaissance in recent decades which the Web is largely responsible for. The information is now out there. We have to do away with the incorrect and misleading propaganda and real drug education can begin.


... Your ideas on legalizing heroin/LSD/Ecstasy/etc., ... I don't know why you waste your own time, even, in fantasizing that somehow this time it will be different...

I've not called for legalizing heroin as you have seen on these pages. I've called for legalizing plants as a first step. That will go a long way toward harm reduction. Our culture can also easily tolerate legal LSD, Ecstasy and a few other relatively safe, non addicting substances that are popular and "mind expanding."

Remember, our culture has no problems with drugs. There is a drug store on every corner. What we have a problem with is "mind expanding drugs." Why are we afraid of expanding our minds? What is is that our culture and its vested interests fear from a populace with expanded consciousness?

-Jeff

[Braggi]

To get back to an interrupted conversation ...



Braggi wrote:
So let's look at 1964. What happened? Perhaps you could remind us.
And this was the question that you didn't answer:

Quote:
Braggi wrote:
So, Lenny, would you start habitually taking LSD if it were legalized tomorrow? How many people that you know well would?
Perhaps you could try again.
-Jeff

Well, Jeff, that was personal and anecdotal for the most part. Having grown up in San Francisco and being on "the scene" that was the year in California LSD became illegal to sell or posses. This was due to folks taking it and "getting out there" with not a lot of anybody knowing how to deal with it. ...

Back then "not a lot of anybody [knew] how to deal with it." That was true to an extent. It was pretty well out of control. Thankfully now there are thousands of trained and experienced people who know "how to deal with it." Check out Burning Man for one large gathering of them that happens each year. I realize that even at that event there are some few people who get in trouble with their drugs. Even that is part of modern drug education.


... Actually I think it became illegal to sell and then a few months later, illegal to posses. Actually folks were out here for a couple of years prior to that taking LSD. As Timothy Leary and Richard Alpert and a few others were still at Harvard touting their East Coast trips, out here folks were doing other things with that acid. Lots of folks out here booed Leary and associates as he wanted folks to take acid HIS way and he was thought as a "fascist" type of guy! ...

Nonsense Lenny. I've met Tim Leary (St. Timothy) and also Ram Dass (Richard Alpert). These are two of the finest and easiest going people you'd ever care to meet. Between them and Ralph Metzner (the third of their Harvard trio) they taught thousands of people how to consciously use sacred medicines. Ken Kesey was out "here" doing the "Electric Coolaid Acid Tests" and they were certainly not as consciously considered as the Leary/Alpert/Metzner methods, and yet, there were few people having problems even then. Amazing how that went. Today we are a whole lot more aware, as a culture, of the hazards of unconscious and careless use of these substances. There is also a substantial literature that has developed in the meantime featuring the wisdom of many cultures. That did not exist in the '60s or '70s. It's about education and wisdom. Amazingly enough, there is a whole lot more of it now then there ever has been in the past and much is now available on the Web. See Erowid.org and follow the links.

It is possible for us to learn. How about that? Now we have to start acting like it (as a culture). It's not too late, although, we are running out of time.


... Anyway, it is clear and easy to see why LSD was made illegal. Oh, and to answer your personal question: no, LSD would not be taken daily, though I know of those that did back in the day. Too bad. But then LSD is not that kind of drug now, is it? As is other Class 1 drugs are, no?

There are many reasons LSD was made illegal and none of them were for the public's good. It was largely because LSD threatened the status quo as it does now. Politics.

I see now that you did partially answer the personal question, Lenny. Sorry I didn't see that before. No, LSD isn't to be taken daily because the result is diminishing returns each day as is the case with any of the psychedelic drugs. They are, almost by definition, not addicting. The less you take them the more you get out of them. Funny that they do not cause insanity; except in those who do not take them. (More wisdom from St. Timothy.)

-Jeff

[Lenny]

Quote:
Lenny wrote: https://www.waccobb.net/forums/waccobb/orangebuttons/viewpost.gif (https://www.waccobb.net/forums/showthread.php?p=64532#post64532)
... You are right. It is a minor point. No matter what group, race, place or year, human beings are human. The availability of drugs in the mass population will lead to the problems of that period: folks getting strung out. Just as it happened with US from 1880 to 1914 as you pointed out in the "History of Bayer" or heroin you cited. Decriminalize and they will come in increasing numbers, ruinous to the population. Not a minor point, simply history. ...



No, you are just plain wrong, Lenny, and you're not being either forthcoming or honest here, I think. You are evading questions and facts. Nobody is going to successfully market heroin in the United States as a cough medicine or as a non-habit forming treatment for morphine addiction. The population is better informed now, though, due to the mismanagement of the Failed War on Some Drugs, many young people don't believe what the Government has to say on the topic, or, by extension, on much of anything.

Well, here again, we disagree, although how you may disagree with historical precedence is beyond me. The subterfuge in your argument regarding "nobody marketing heroin as cough syrup" not withstanding. As no one will, legal or not. The beauty of heroin is that none really need market it, just try it!
England had 6,000 "treated" addicts in 1954 being "maintained" by the gov't when she started those programs. Within a decade that treated market had exploded becoming impossible to handle, all this coinciding with the drug culture in the West. It simply doesn't work.
In the large picture, there is a move to have folks behave as if the government has no validity in anything. And this drug thing helps. And if folks get strung, hung, and done out, too bad, as the ends justify the means. Again, evil wins.

[quote=Braggi;64631]We have work to do informing the youth about the pleasures and perils of drug use and abuse. In my opinion, injecting heroin to get high is abuse. I think in most other people's minds it is as well. Even Don will agree with that.

Actually, the pleasures of drugs does not have to be taught.
Pleasure is what drugs bring, no?
If it were pain, no problem. Oh, wait. They DO bring pleasure at first but pain later. Or what?
As you point out, our neuro receptors are already primed for that. So, I suppose we have to train them to....what, Jeff? Not use them? But you are not for that! Or after the pleasure, then tell them? Or prior? Come on now, see how ridiculous?
As for what you think regarding what "most other people's minds" and heorin injection as abuse, the whole of society is not willing to do that via your Schedule 1 drugs nor opium legalization. How do you bypass that fact that someone, out of 330 million folks is NOT going to make junk from that?


If heroin became legal and available to you tomorrow, Lenny, would you go down and buy a large quantity and start using it? Would you give it to your family members? Would your neighbors that you know well start using it? Please start with some personal honesty here. Integrity in responses builds respect and trust on these forums. -Jeff

You approach to this argument as in making it anecdotal does not engender integrity. I still respect your position but find it untenable.
We all know of stories where folks DO introduce junk to family members, as well as neighbors. And why not go down and buy large amounts if it were legal?
Enjoyed the movie "Little Miss Sunshine". Alan Arkin's sweet and lovable character's line about heroin being for old folks was a blow for your position. Ah, the hell of it all marches forward, no?
Let's drop this as we can only agree to disagree. I see, by Zeno's post, that you are in Paris! Forget this crap and enjoy the lights. Do us a favor, post your favorite picture upon return.

[MsTerry]

We have the French Connection.

We are there ...

-Jeff
Isn't it sad that Jeff has to travel all the way to France to get a mind expanding trip?

[thewholetruth]

Folks, give it up already. You are dealing here with a highly skilled and intelligent passive-aggressive. His purpose is not to engage in a reasoned discussion striving towards a resolution, or even a spirited exchange of perhaps mutually exclusive opinions. The constant repetition of "sir" and peoples' names is indeed generally recognized in our culture as aggression, but in addition it shows clearly that his concern is with the person not the ideas being debated. He just enjoys pissing people off. I am sure he believes in the positions he takes, and I pretty much disagree with him right across the board, but I see no sense in engaging in dialog with him, as you will never convince him of anything.

I know when I feel as you do, that I disagree with someone across the board, rather than painting him to be an evil villain, I speak up and engage him. Classic passive/aggressive behavior is stabbing someone in the back because you're afraid to confront them face to face. You know...like you've done with me here.

My position is exactly as I've stated it. I mean no disrespect to anyone by calling them "sir" or by their name. In fact, while waiting for board meeting to get over I overheard some of our board members this morning and was privately pleased at hearing their liberal use of the word "sir" and of each others' names. You, however, consider it passive aggressive and "pissing people off"?!? LOL What a ridiculous world you've created for yourself, my friend. (Ooops! Is calling you "my friend" an attack on you too?)


You are playing on the white squares, and he is playing on the black squares.

And you seem to be playing in some imaginary world, where you think it's best not to confront people engage in character assassination, instead, in order to attack people you're afraid to dialogue with.


Maybe the time you all collectively spend beating your heads against this particular wall would be better spent in some more serene pursuit.

Patrick Brinton

Maybe having the courage to engage those with whom you disagree completely might help you open your mind and stop believing all the voices, Patrick.

[Lenny]

<!-- BEGIN TEMPLATE: bbcode_quote --> <!-- using waccobburl --> Quote:
<table border="0" cellpadding="6" cellspacing="0"> <tbody><tr> <td class="alt2" style="border: 1px inset ;"> Braggi wrote:
So let's look at 1964. What happened? Perhaps you could remind us.
And this was the question that you didn't answer:
So, Lenny, would you start habitually taking LSD if it were legalized tomorrow? How many people that you know well would? Perhaps you could try again.
-Jeff </td> </tr> </tbody></table>
<!-- END TEMPLATE: bbcode_quote -->
Well, Jeff, that was personal and anecdotal for the most part. Having grown up in San Francisco and being on "the scene" that was the year in California LSD became illegal to sell or posses. This was due to folks taking it and "getting out there" with not a lot of anybody knowing how to deal with it. ...


To get back to an interrupted conversation ...
Back then "not a lot of anybody [knew] how to deal with it." That was true to an extent. It was pretty well out of control. Thankfully now there are thousands of trained and experienced people who know "how to deal with it." Check out Burning Man for one large gathering of them that happens each year. I realize that even at that event there are some few people who get in trouble with their drugs. Even that is part of modern drug education.

The trouble those folks get into could not be prevented by "education". We educate on how to drink, and in the case of teens not to (BTW, how goes that?) and yet the porcelain god gets nightly visits.
The mind of a person who may be high on psychotomometics is busy being psychotic, and intervention along those points though may have intentions of being helpful, is questionable.
Have your thousands of trained experienced people visit wards & prisons to bring those folks back to a "good place" as that is where the help is needed more.

Quote:
Lenny wrote: https://www.waccobb.net/forums/waccobb/orangebuttons/viewpost.gif (https://www.waccobb.net/forums/showthread.php?p=64532#post64532)
... Actually I think it became illegal to sell and then a few months later, illegal to posses. Actually folks were out here for a couple of years prior to that taking LSD. As Timothy Leary and Richard Alpert and a few others were still at Harvard touting their East Coast trips, out here folks were doing other things with that acid. Lots of folks out here booed Leary and associates as he wanted folks to take acid HIS way and he was thought as a "fascist" type of guy! ...


Nonsense Lenny. I've met Tim Leary (St. Timothy) and also Ram Dass (Richard Alpert). These are two of the finest and easiest going people you'd ever care to meet. Between them and Ralph Metzner (the third of their Harvard trio) they taught thousands of people how to consciously use sacred medicines. Ken Kesey was out "here" doing the "Electric Coolaid Acid Tests" and they were certainly not as consciously considered as the Leary/Alpert/Metzner methods, and yet, there were few people having problems even then. Amazing how that went. Today we are a whole lot more aware, as a culture, of the hazards of unconscious and careless use of these substances. There is also a substantial literature that has developed in the meantime featuring the wisdom of many cultures. That did not exist in the '60s or '70s. It's about education and wisdom. Amazingly enough, there is a whole lot more of it now then there ever has been in the past and much is now available on the Web. See Erowid.org and follow the links.

Actually it was Ken Kesey that thought Leary was a "fascist" due to Leary's notion that everybody should take LSD in his way (Leary's) and it was Leary that learned from Kesey there was more than one way to "trip". But maybe that is what you said above.
Factually, in drug taking, there were fewer folks taking those drugs so there were fewer having problems then, but I will bet statistically they were the same numbers per population.
Your esoteric approach to the whole psychedelic thing may have merit in a refined world of "intellectuals" and under close supervision with highly trained individuals, but due to that separation by that "elite" to have it available in the real world market is counter to the benefit of all. IOW, even the elite must give up certain "pleasures" in the real world.
Reminds me of that "eye for an eye" was due to the elite killing folks who would awaken them from their naps!

Quote:
Lenny wrote: https://www.waccobb.net/forums/waccobb/orangebuttons/viewpost.gif (https://www.waccobb.net/forums/showthread.php?p=64532#post64532)
... Anyway, it is clear and easy to see why LSD was made illegal. Oh, and to answer your personal question: no, LSD would not be taken daily, though I know of those that did back in the day. Too bad. But then LSD is not that kind of drug now, is it? As is other Class 1 drugs are, no?


There are many reasons LSD was made illegal and none of them were for the public's good. It was largely because LSD threatened the status quo as it does now. Politics.

Here lies the lie.
Of course in a sense ALL is "politics", eh? If I say, "Good morning" or not, then that could be considered politics, right?
As you twist this into "politics" and "the government is a lying, false, and untrustworthy" beast, you will wind up throwing the baby out with the water.
Do you think the status quo is bad? Or that the majority of folks are unhappy with it? Get out of that 1970 mentality. Even the poor know it's better off here than elsewhere. Why do you think they come or die trying? Or is the middle class that hates the status quo? Silly notion, no? I mean outside of teenagers that are TAUGHT to hate their parents by our current culture.
Or do you honestly think all are stupid of government? All find the gov't is telling the truth all the time? If not, do you wish to try and tell all of us that these drugs will "help" us see what you claim, that is that gov't is evil? If you do, then you were the baby in the bathwater.


I see now that you did partially answer the personal question, Lenny. Sorry I didn't see that before. No, LSD isn't to be taken daily because the result is diminishing returns each day as is the case with any of the psychedelic drugs. They are, almost by definition, not addicting. The less you take them the more you get out of them. Funny that they do not cause insanity; except in those who do not take them. (More wisdom from St. Timothy.) -Jeff

Yeah, growing up in the city during that period let me get to know and meet seemingly hundreds of kids and adults that wasted their talents. From witnessing them and the aftermath I can only conclude that Leary was deluded and like the Pied Piper led all that followed down to their ends. And like other false prophets and con men, still believers will follow.....go figure

[thewholetruth]

I assume nothing. Cigarette and tobacco use in general is down every year across the US. That is because it is legal and the propaganda against is largely true. The propaganda against marijuana is largely false. Big difference. The kids are smart enough to know the difference.

I disagree completely, Jeff. What "propaganda against marijuana" is "largely false", IYO?


The messages are now confused and inconsistent.

Such as which messages, exactly, are "confused and inconsistent", IYO?


That will need to change, and I believe legalization will pave the way for that. It's possible and even likely that the "new generation" is smarter than you or me Don. :wink:

LOL Riiiiiiiight. Like we're smarter than the last generation? Or the generation before that? We're no smarter than cavemen, Jeff, IMO. We've made the same mistakes generation after generation, have the same problems relationally as we always have, the same bigotry exists today that has always existed. Jeff? Our egos always want to believe that we're smarter than our parents' generation, but has it ever been true? I don't see the fruit in your statement. Oh sure, we've got much better technology, but Jeff, when man invented the wheel or discovered fire, weren't they launching mankind into a far greater leap forward than we've seen in our lifetime? Computers? Toys...and glorified calculators, to a great degree. They are the telephone of our time. Certainly no smarter than the man who invented the wheel, or those who discovered fire.


We have never before been at this point in history. As far as drug lore is concerned there has been an amazing renaissance in recent decades which the Web is largely responsible for. The information is now out there. We have to do away with the incorrect and misleading propaganda and real drug education can begin.

I don't value recreational drug use like you do. I'm surprised to read the hope you have in taking drugs to a new level. I'm more interested in taking relationships to a new level, wherein people start being honest with one another in love, not deceptive and secretive and dishonest. I hope that people surrender to loving one another, so they don't feel the need to escape in a drug induced intoxication, because if we truly connected with one another and had nothing to fear from one another, we would no longer have the desire to escape this reality. You and I differ in this way, I suspect: You want to explore your mind and escape from this reality. I want people to learn to be honest, to understand that there are consequences to our actions and to strive to stop taking actions which result in consequences we don't enjoy which tend to separate us from one another.

There was a time when I embraced the kind of lifestyle you say you embrace today (which included recreational use of drugs). I used to love drugs, too. I work with people every day who feel similarly to you in that regard. A few minor adjustments, a few major adjustments, and suddenly I'm no longer remotely interested in drugs at all, but suddenly very interested in deepening the relationships I have. I shudder to think what I would have missed had I continued in the recreational-drugs-as-a-matter-of-fact in my life. My relationship with my wife has deepened dramatically. My usefulness to others has increased dramatically. My appreciation for God's creations has, as well, and my understanding of others has improved as my understanding of myself has improved.


I've not called for legalizing heroin as you have seen on these pages. I've called for legalizing plants as a first step. That will go a long way toward harm reduction.

In your opinion. I disagree completely. There is no value in children being raised by stoned parents, Jeff, and in fact, there is incredible harm which results from being intoxicated, both occasionally and regularly, by those who are legally entrusted to raise us. Stoned doctors doing your surgery? Stoned attorneys handling your felony case? It's not better than straight doctors and attorneys, and in fact, I believe most folks would agree that those people are far more likely to make mistakes during surgery/court cases than their straight counterparts. I could go on forever, Jeff, with instances in which a lifestyle which includes being straight is more beneficial to relationships and circumstances than a lifestyle which includes getting loaded on anything 'recreationally'.


Our culture can also easily tolerate legal LSD, Ecstasy and a few other relatively safe, non addicting substances that are popular and "mind expanding."

These are not "relatively safe" substances, Jeff. Kids die every day from their 'recreational' use of Ecstasy.


Remember, our culture has no problems with drugs. There is a drug store on every corner. What we have a problem with is "mind expanding drugs." Why are we afraid of expanding our minds? What is is that our culture and its vested interests fear from a populace with expanded consciousness?

-Jeff

We've already learned that drugs don't expand the mind, Jeff. Drugs destroy the mind. That's what it is that our culture fears about 'recreational' drug use. Also, there is enough mental illness in our society today without adding to it with "mind expanding" drug use. You know as well as I do that "mind expanding" drugs induce symptoms similar to mental illness, particularly LSD and Ecstasy, which will render you temporarily insane, Jeff.

Society is not better off when allowing citizens to escape into temporary insanity, sir. In fact, IMO, the whole notion that it's a good idea is insane. But that's just me, perhaps...

[MsTerry]

IMy usefulness to others has increased dramatically. My appreciation for God's creations has, as well, and my understanding of others has improved as my understanding of myself has improved.

If your statement is true, Don, Don't you think you having all of this knowledge is partly due to your use of illegal drugs?
Don't you, Don, think your abuse of illegal drugs has given you an insight that you now can use, Sir?
Don't you, Sir, have any respect for GOD's creations?
Don, did God or man make the mushrooms?
Don, did God or man make drugs illegal?
If your use of substances helped you find your path, why are you scolding others for doing it their way?

[thewholetruth]

If your statement is true, Don, Don't you think you having all of this knowledge is partly due to your use of illegal drugs?

Do you have to stick your own hand in the fire after you've seen what happens when someone else does it, Ms. Terry?


Don't you, Don, think your abuse of illegal drugs has given you an insight that you now can use, Sir?

Don't you think prostitution has given women an insight that they can now use, Ms. Terry? Don't you think that murdering someone has given the murderer an insight they can now use, as well? Do you think that not wiping one's behind gives them an insight they can now use, Ms. Terry? Do we have to do everything in order to gain insight? Or can we use someone else's experience to help not open doors that aren't beneficial to folks?


Don't you, Sir, have any respect for GOD's creations?

LOL Here we go again.


Don, did God or man make the mushrooms?

Did God or man create creatures which produce feces, Ms. Terry? Do people eat feces, Ma'am? Do people eat sand? Did God or man create sand? Is everything on the planet good for us to ingest? Are we good judges of that? When Daddy steps off the top of the 4 story parking garage loaded on mushrooms, Ma'am, do you still think it's a good idea?


Don, did God or man make drugs illegal?

Man makes behavior illegal when Man has shown they are hurting themselves or others with such behavior, Ma'am.


If your use of substances helped you find your path, why are you scolding others for doing it their way?

Please show me where you think I'm "scolding others", Ms. Terry. And if prostitution helped someone else find their path, shall we all do it, Ma'am? Is that logical reasoning, IYO? It seems to be your reasoning in this post.

[Braggi]

I'm in a big place 5 days a week, sometimes 50-60 hours a week (that dang salary). Nearly 100 beds and I call everyone either Mr. Soandso or sir. I counsel a lot of people every day, and I counsel the counselors, maintain ongoing active relationships with Parole, Probation, the DA's office, Public Defender's office, private attorneys, other treatment centers and local businesses and individuals seeking treatment for themselves or for a friend or family member. ...

Hmmmm. Don, don't I remember you saying you made no money from the Failed War on Some Drugs?

Please clarify.

-Jeff

[thewholetruth]

Hmmmm. Don, don't I remember you saying you made no money from the Failed War on Some Drugs?

Please clarify.

-Jeff

I make no money from the War on Drugs, Jeff. I help people turn their lives around when they've decided perhaps they're on the wrong path. I'm in the business of Transforming Lives. I hope that clarifies this for you.

(Hoping you'll note that I only used your name once in 4 sentences, and didn't call you "sir" even one time. Trying to be cognizant of how sensitive some folks are.) :thumbsup:

[Braggi]

I disagree completely, Jeff. What "propaganda against marijuana" is "largely false", IYO? ...

Such as which messages, exactly, are "confused and inconsistent", IYO?
...

Just one example:

"Short and Long Term Effects of Heroin Abuse
Source: National Institute on Drug Abuse
Short-Term Effects:
“Rush”
Depressed respiration
Clouded mental functioning
Nausea and vomiting
Suppression of pain
Spontaneous abortion
Long-Term Effects:
Infectious diseases (HIV/AIDS and Hepatitis)
Collapsed veins
Bacterial infections
Abscesses
Infection of heart lining and valves
Arthritis and other rheumatologic problems" [end quote]

And then, a few lines below, this:

"Commonly abused drugs
The drugs listed below are commonly abused, and affect the brain and physiology in different ways. Check out information provided by The National Institute on Drug Abuse (NIDA) which offers a chart of commonly abused drugs and identifies how they affect you and what the long-term health risks are. ... " [end quote]

And then there is a list of a number of categories of drugs in which "cannabanoids" are listed. No distinction is made among the various drugs and the symptoms listed above. This is at best confusing, at worst a lousy lie (no doubt from Hell). This is pretty typical of "drug warrior" misinformation.

I could list a whole lot more, in fact, almost every website listing the "dangers" of marijuana is completely full of lies and misrepresentations. I'll hold back on that because I'm actually enjoying my time in Paris right now. Just had a terrific potato soup that I made in the apartment we're staying in. Lovely. Although we do have better wine :wink: in California, the produce available here is pretty stellar. Somehow the colors of the vegetables seem larger than life ... but I digress.

Marijuana is truly the "gateway" drug. It is the drug that young people use to learn the Government is not to be trusted because "They" lie. That could be logical change number two in Govt. policy toward drugs after decriminalizing pot. The Govt. and its beneficiaries could start doing true drug education instead of offering misleading lies.

-Jeff

[StormDancer]

From those of us who were already, thinking, reasoning adults in 1980:

The "War on Drugs" like the "War on Poverty" before it and the "War on Terror" after it was never expected, by any but the most naive, to do what the polititians claimed it would.
The War on Drugs was opposed by those in the drug rehab fields as a waste of taxpayer money. Even at the time, most of us understood that the way to fight drug addiction was to remove the root causes and de-glamourize drug use and the drug trade. The War on Drugs did just the opposite. Many of us believed, even at the time, that it was designed by the CIA as an excuse to send US forces into south and central America to destabalize their governments...which it did very well.

The War on Poverty (1960's) allowed federal programs to usurp local public social services, destablize the financial base of local governments and make less afluent areas dependent on the federal bureaucracy. As we have observed, the War on Terror, has destabilized the oil producing areas of the middle east and anyone who reads books and blogs instead of watching TV can see it clearly. In each case, the result of these undeclared "wars" is that the unseen powers within the US government grow in strength and the general populace gets exciting new TV programs.
Thanks Barry, for the open forum.
-AnnaLisa
P.S. Oh, and in the 40's it was "The New Deal."

[thewholetruth]

From those of us who were already, thinking, reasoning adults in 1980:

The "War on Drugs" like the "War on Poverty" before it and the "War on Terror" after it was never expected, by any but the most naive, to do what the polititians claimed it would.
The War on Drugs was opposed by those in the drug rehab fields as a waste of taxpayer money. Even at the time, most of us understood that the way to fight drug addiction was to remove the root causes and de-glamourize drug use and the drug trade. The War on Drugs did just the opposite. Many of us believed, even at the time, that it was designed by the CIA as an excuse to send US forces into south and central America to destabalize their governments...which it did very well.

Interesting perspective, albeit after the fact. I'm not sure the conspiracy was as intentional as you've described, but neither of us really knows.


The War on Poverty (1960's) allowed federal programs to usurp local public social services, destablize the financial base of local governments and make less afluent areas dependent on the federal bureaucracy.

I'd love to see specific examples which support this statement. How have "federal programs usurp[ed] local social services, destabilize[d] the financial base of local goverments and [made] less afluent areas dependent on the federal bureaucracy"?


As we have observed, the War on Terror, has destabilized the oil producing areas of the middle east and anyone who reads books and blogs instead of watching TV can see it clearly. In each case, the result of these undeclared "wars" is that the unseen powers within the US government grow in strength and the general populace gets exciting new TV programs.

Amen to that. I'm trackin' with you here.


Thanks Barry, for the open forum.
-AnnaLisa

I'm trackin' with you here, too. Thanks, Barry! :thumbsup:

[MsTerry]

Man makes behavior illegal when Man has shown they are hurting themselves or others with such behavior, Ma'am.
Really???
War is illegal now?
Using gasoline is illegal now?
Overeating is illegal now?

And a pagan might say; Religion is illegal now?

[MsTerry]

<!-- END TEMPLATE: bbcode_quote -->Did God or man create creatures which produce feces, Ms. Terry? Do people eat feces, Ma'am? Do people eat sand? Did God or man create sand? Is everything on the planet good for us to ingest? Are we good judges of that? When Daddy steps off the top of the 4 story parking garage loaded on mushrooms, Ma'am, do you still think it's a good idea?.
OhMy, Don
You really have outdone your self here!
I forgot that you aren't able to handle multiple concepts at the same time, but your ability to ridicule yourself has been noted with the above.

[Braggi]

I make no money from the War on Drugs, Jeff. I help people turn their lives around when they've decided perhaps they're on the wrong path. I'm in the business of Transforming Lives. I hope that clarifies this for you. ...

I'm a little slow, obviously. So, you get a salary from serving people in the process of "Transforming [their] Lives." You work: " ... in a big place 5 days a week, sometimes 50-60 hours a week (that dang salary). Nearly 100 beds ... I counsel a lot of people every day, and I counsel the counselors, maintain ongoing active relationships with Parole, Probation, the DA's office, Public Defender's office ... "

I imagine very few of those people filling the 100 beds are there on vacation or because they would otherwise choose that place over any other that might or might not be available to them. I'm going to guess that the majority are there on court order. You are clearly, by your statement above, serving the people involved in the "War on Drugs." The connection seems pretty clear unless ... ?

So, unless you can otherwise clarify, you are earning a living based on the Failed War on Some Drugs, and that pretty directly. Taxpayer's money on your bottom line? Looks that way. Dare I ask where in Sonoma County is there a 100 bed facility serving the addicted? I'm very impressed. I understand if the answer to that is ... confidential.


... (Hoping you'll note that I only used your name once in 4 sentences, and didn't call you "sir" even one time. Trying to be cognizant of how sensitive some folks are.) :thumbsup:

I do appreciate that. I was one of the people who did not see it as respectful. Thanks.

-Jeff

[thewholetruth]

OhMy, Don
You really have outdone your self here!
I forgot that you aren't able to handle multiple concepts at the same time, but your ability to ridicule yourself has been noted with the above.

The fact that you cannot even respond to any of my questions really answers my questions, Ms. Terry. Frankly, I knew you wouldn't dare to tread there.

[Braggi]

... And a pagan might say; Religion is illegal now?

Of course, many aspects of many Pagan religions are, in fact, illegal, MsTerry, as you well know.

-Jeff

[thewholetruth]

I'm a little slow, obviously. So, you get a salary from serving people in the process of "Transforming [their] Lives." You work: " ... in a big place 5 days a week, sometimes 50-60 hours a week (that dang salary). Nearly 100 beds ... I counsel a lot of people every day, and I counsel the counselors, maintain ongoing active relationships with Parole, Probation, the DA's office, Public Defender's office ... "

I imagine very few of those people filling the 100 beds are there on vacation or because they would otherwise choose that place over any other that might or might not be available to them. I'm going to guess that the majority are there on court order. You are clearly, by your statement above, serving the people involved in the "War on Drugs." The connection seems pretty clear unless ... ?

Roughly half of our clients choose us, Jeff. The other half are referred to us, however all have the option of not coming to us for help. So all things considered, all come to us by choice, not by mandate from the state.


So, unless you can otherwise clarify, you are earning a living based on the Failed War on Some Drugs, and that pretty directly.

Not at all, sir. Not one thin dime.


Taxpayer's money on your bottom line? Looks that way.

That's because you can't see our bottom line. Not a single $ comes from taxpayer money, praise the Lord.


Dare I ask where in Sonoma County is there a 100 bed facility serving the addicted?

There are several in Sonoma County, sir.


I'm very impressed. I understand if the answer to that is ... confidential.

When it comes to message boards and my 15 years of experience on them, including having a profile photo of me, my wife and baby daughter doctored up to make it appear that my infant daughter was severely beaten, then had that person make a mockup of my profile using a very similar name, listing homosexual porn sites as "my" favorites in the profile, then posting foul language and thoughts all over a major message board, posing as me, why, I do believe I've learned that when posting on message boards upon which others who disagree with you (it was an abortion debate board) like this, that it isn't probably in my best interest NOT to remain anonymous and confidenitial. I hope you understand. The goal being, of course, simply to communicate with others who aren't like minded, communication that isn't likely to take place in a local coffee shop or street corner that doesn't include raised voices and the shaking of fists. I appreciate the opportunity to discuss issues with folks like you and Conrad and Zeno, without the raised voices and shaken fists. I also appreciate being able to move about my community without someone from a message board shouting obscenities at me from across the street, or even in my workplace. I'm not so naive as to think "that'll never happen". I was shocked when someone doctored my daughter's photo and posted it all over. People no longer surprise me, but I will do what I can to keep myself and my family safe.


I do appreciate that. I was one of the people who did not see it as respectful. Thanks.

-Jeff

Wouldn't you know it! LOL

[thewholetruth]

Really???
War is illegal now?
Using gasoline is illegal now?
Overeating is illegal now?

And a pagan might say; Religion is illegal now?

I didn't say goverment makes ALL behaviors which hurt ourselves or others illegal, Ms. Terry. Conclusionary thinking isn't really very flattering on us, is it?

[StormDancer]

Regarding accusations about benefiting from "the Wars:"

"Denial is not a river in Egypt!"

We ALL have benefitted from the misfortune of others in some way. Part of the reason that we enjoy a relatively high standard of living in the US is due to our exploitation of the less fortunate in other areas of the world, especially as it relates to the clothes we wear, the foods we eat and the methods we use to heat our homes. The point is to do our best to educate ourselves and to engage in work and lifestyles that have the lowest possible negative impact.
-AnnaLisa

[MsTerry]

The fact that you cannot even respond to any of my questions really answers my questions, Ms. Terry. Frankly, I knew you wouldn't dare to tread there.
Sir, maybe you and your colleagues are in the habit of asking irrelevant, immature and irrational questions to provoke, as a matter of course.
People who seek intelligent conversation, try to further, not hinder dialogue.

[MsTerry]

Did God or man create creatures which produce feces, Ms. Terry? Do people eat feces, Ma'am? Do people eat sand? Did God or man create sand? Is everything on the planet good for us to ingest? Are we good judges of that? When Daddy steps off the top of the 4 story parking garage loaded on mushrooms, Ma'am, do you still think it's a good idea?

Don, you have made a caricature of your self.

[thewholetruth]

Don, you have made a caricature of your self.

Is that a God, no, no, God, no, no, no? (I'm not trying to feed you the answers, Ms. Terry, I just didn't see your answers, Ma'am. Perhaps you missed them.) They were:

Quote:
<TABLE cellSpacing=0 cellPadding=6 border=0><TBODY><TR><TD class=alt2 style="BORDER-RIGHT: 1px inset; BORDER-TOP: 1px inset; BORDER-LEFT: 1px inset; BORDER-BOTTOM: 1px inset">thewholetruth wrote: https://www.waccobb.net/forums/waccobb/orangebuttons/viewpost.gif (https://www.waccobb.net/forums/showthread.php?p=64696#post64696)

Did God or man create creatures which produce feces, Ms. Terry? Do people eat feces, Ma'am? Do people eat sand? Did God or man create sand? Is everything on the planet good for us to ingest? Are we good judges of that? When Daddy steps off the top of the 4 story parking garage loaded on mushrooms, Ma'am, do you still think it's a good idea?
</TD></TR></TBODY></TABLE>

Thanks in advance... :thumbsup:

[thewholetruth]

Don, you have made a caricature of your self.

And you? :hmmm:

[MsTerry]

MsTerry wrote: https://www.waccobb.net/forums/waccobb/orangebuttons/viewpost.gif (https://www.waccobb.net/forums/showthread.php?p=64727#post64727)
Don, you have made a caricature of your self.
<!-- END TEMPLATE: bbcode_quote -->


And you? :hmmm:
I tried to expose you, but you do a much better job than I :thumbsup:

[MsTerry]

Is that a God, no, no, God, no, no, no? (I'm not trying to feed you the answers, Ms. Terry, I just didn't see your answers, Ma'am. Perhaps you missed them.) They were:

Quote:
<table border="0" cellpadding="6" cellspacing="0"><tbody><tr><td class="alt2" style="border: 1px inset ;">thewholetruth wrote: https://www.waccobb.net/forums/waccobb/orangebuttons/viewpost.gif (https://www.waccobb.net/forums/showthread.php?p=64696#post64696)

Did God or man create creatures which produce feces, Ms. Terry? Do people eat feces, Ma'am? Do people eat sand? Did God or man create sand? Is everything on the planet good for us to ingest? Are we good judges of that? When Daddy steps off the top of the 4 story parking garage loaded on mushrooms, Ma'am, do you still think it's a good idea?
</td></tr></tbody></table>

Thanks in advance... :thumbsup:
Don, I don't think your credibility can sink any lower.............

[Zeno Swijtink]

Don and MsTerry,

Since I started this thread by Wacco rules I am the Moderator of it.

But my tools are rather crude and the only thing I can do is delete the whole thing. Since good things have occurred on this thread I am reluctant to do this. More good posting may emerge, who knows. But I am sick and tired of your interaction.

Take your business elsewhere!

Zeno
Moderator of the "Only cops and crooks have benefited from $2.5 trillion spent fighting trafficking" thread.

[Braggi]

... I do believe I've learned that when posting on message boards upon which others who disagree with you (it was an abortion debate board) like this, that it isn't probably in my best interest NOT to remain anonymous and confidenitial. I hope you understand. ...

OK, got through the double negatives.

Don, I appreciate the work you do and recognize the validity of your methods for a lot of people in need. I also appreciate the semi-anonymity you choose to retain here. No problem.

I think you do kid yourself that no money comes to you from the taxpayers though. The whole infrastructure that sends you clients is taxpayer supported and you've admitted to report to that system. I'll bet the institution you work for is a 501C3 which means it's taxpayer subsidized. Also, I'll be surprised it's not part of the "faith based initiative" introduced by GW Bush that funnels taxpayer money into the coffers of churches and other religious based enterprises. So perhaps it's worth looking at that.

In short, your livelihood does depend, at least in part, on taxpayer support and your position probably wouldn't exist without the Failed War on Some Drugs. I also appreciate what you've said about not being on the Govt. payroll. That I believe and am glad to hear it. Not that I think the Govt. shouldn't support councilors such as yourself. I think We the People have a lot of catching up to do in that department, but I'm pleased the private sector is doing as much work in the area as it is. The need is great and the resources are few.

BTW, I asked my wife about the private facilities such as yours in the County and she was able to name five, at least one of which our family helps support financially. Perhaps we help with your paycheck a little.
:wink:

-Jeff

[thewholetruth]

OK, got through the double negatives.

LOL Sorry about that.


Don, I appreciate the work you do and recognize the validity of your methods for a lot of people in need. I also appreciate the semi-anonymity you choose to retain here. No problem.

Great. Thank you.


I think you do kid yourself that no money comes to you from the taxpayers though. The whole infrastructure that sends you clients is taxpayer supported and you've admitted to report to that system.

We report to no one. People are referred to us only because of the success of our program. We aren't obligated to anyone, nor do we answer to anyone.


I'll bet the institution you work for is a 501C3 which means it's taxpayer subsidized.

We survive by donations only, Jeff.


Also, I'll be surprised it's not part of the "faith based initiative" introduced by GW Bush that funnels taxpayer money into the coffers of churches and other religious based enterprises. So perhaps it's worth looking at that.

No public money comes to us except by voluntary donations, and the government does not dictate what we can and cannot do.


In short, your livelihood does depend, at least in part, on taxpayer support and your position probably wouldn't exist without the Failed War on Some Drugs. I also appreciate what you've said about not being on the Govt. payroll. That I believe and am glad to hear it. Not that I think the Govt. shouldn't support councilors such as yourself. I think We the People have a lot of catching up to do in that department, but I'm pleased the private sector is doing as much work in the area as it is. The need is great and the resources are few.

Amen.


BTW, I asked my wife about the private facilities such as yours in the County and she was able to name five, at least one of which our family helps support financially. Perhaps we help with your paycheck a little.
:wink:

-Jeff

I praise God for that, Jeff. :wink:

[thewholetruth]

Don and MsTerry,

Since I started this thread by Wacco rules I am the Moderator of it.

But my tools are rather crude and the only thing I can do is delete the whole thing. Since good things have occurred on this thread I am reluctant to do this. More good posting may emerge, who knows. But I am sick and tired of your interaction.

Take your business elsewhere!

Zeno
Moderator of the "Only cops and crooks have benefited from $2.5 trillion spent fighting trafficking" thread.

Sorry about that, Zeno. A wise young addict once pointed out to me that "When you engage an (expletive deleted), to someone walking up on your discussion it's hard to tell who the (expletive deleted) is". I suspect Ms. Terry and I can both look at that statement and find value in it, and I will heretofore promise to refrain from doing battle with her in this thread.

I apologize, sir, and hope that you forgive me.

Rebuked...

[theindependenteye]

>>I'll bet the institution you work for is a 501C3 which means it's taxpayer subsidized.
<!-- END TEMPLATE: bbcode_quote -->
>We survive by donations only, Jeff.

Just a point of clarification. 501c3 classification means only that an organization is federally tax-exempt, not that it's taxpayer-subsidized. However, one could argue — as people have, especially conservatives — that tax exemption is an indirect taxpayer subsidy, allowing such organizations an advantage over profit-making ventures in the same field as well as allowing donors deductions for their donations. Also, religious organizations usually fall under a different category, unless they specifically set up a 501c3, and I'm not sure what the tax policy is on such donations.

-Conrad

[MsTerry]

Zeno,

Even though I don't object to seeing you stop someone from letting his mouth over flow with feces, I do wonder where you got the notion that the starter of a thread is also the moderator of that same thread, by default. The implication that there is a de facto ownership is contradicted by rule #6.
-> <!-- WaccoBB - Begin Thread Prefix hack --> <!-- WaccoBB - End Thread Prefix hack --> Posting Guidelines (https://www.waccobb.net/forums/showthread.php?t=886)
Please explain your position.


Don and MsTerry,

Since I started this thread by Wacco rules I am the Moderator of it.

But my tools are rather crude and the only thing I can do is delete the whole thing. Since good things have occurred on this thread I am reluctant to do this. More good posting may emerge, who knows. But I am sick and tired of your interaction.

Take your business elsewhere!

Zeno
Moderator of the "Only cops and crooks have benefited from $2.5 trillion spent fighting trafficking" thread.

[Zeno Swijtink]

If you go to the top of any thread you have started and pull down the Thread Tools you see that you have Moderator Power to delete the thread, not just poster power to delete your own posting.

The Posting Guideline you refer admittedly seems in contradiction with exercising this power, but literarily it only refers to the delete posting button.



Zeno,

Even though I don't object to seeing you stop someone from letting his mouth over flow with feces, I do wonder where you got the notion that the starter of a thread is also the moderator of that same thread, by default. The implication that there is a de facto ownership is contradicted by rule #6.
-> <!-- WaccoBB - Begin Thread Prefix hack --> <!-- WaccoBB - End Thread Prefix hack --> Posting Guidelines (https://www.waccobb.net/forums/showthread.php?t=886)
Please explain your position.

[RichT]

Back on task here...

In Saturday's P.D. was an article detailing the risk to firefighters of encountering armed patrols for pot farms while battling wildfires. I find this to be very offensive. We have wasted so much taxpayer money for so long trying to eradicate marijuana usage, with no change. We have, instead, created such a profitable enterprise that drug cartels and gangs are now setting up pot farms on federal lands with guards carrying automatic weapons.

Just 2 or 3 years ago a massive farming operation was discovered at Austin Creek Recreation Area, with signs of 5 or 6 people camped there to watch over the operation. I am a backpacker, and I have camped in this area a few times. On the last occasion, 4 years ago, I heard automatic gunfire towards the back of the property by Mill Creek Road. Sometimes I like to hike off trail; I did not do so this time due to fear of running across the source of the gunfire. I feel that it is an outrage that one should have to restrict travel on public lands due to the presence of armed guards for pot farms.


Just because something is legal does not mean that everyone will rush out to try it. And marijuana is not addictive, at least to people who are not predisposed for addiction. A person who exhibit tendencies towards addiction to pot also tend to do the same with alcohol, nicotine, gambling, religion... Most people when stoned tend to be subdued and withdrawn and certainly not an eminent threat to society. The only thing making them "criminals" are the laws classifying them as such.

I do believe that the harder, more addictive drugs should remain outlawed, but we are far overdue for decriminalizing marijuana. But, I am tired of the wasteful spending on trying to curtail marijuana. I would much rather it were controlled, regulated and taxed along with the other legal vices. I'd prefer that those who choose to indulge lower my tax rate than be taxed to incarcerate them.


Just for the record, I did experiment in my youth. And quite heavily at that. When I tired of all of it, I was able to quit and walk away. For the majority of us, lifestyle is a matter of choice and not addiction!!:2cents:

[Zeno Swijtink]

https://www.cstudies.ubc.ca/forum/images/drug_policy_title.jpg

If you missed this engaging series of free panel discussions facilitated by Stephen Owen, UBC Vice President, External, Legal and Community Relations, webcasts of each session are available at https://www.cstudies.ubc.ca/forum/#podcast1.

In communities across Canada, discussions are going on – public and private – about how to deal effectively with the growing problem of illicit drug use. Decisions are being made about how to educate our young people and how to allocate public money.

Vancouver has been at the centre of the drug debate since 1995. It has led the way in taking public action, researching the effect of different strategies and considering current community attitudes.

At this time of escalating concern about drug and alcohol problems, and drug-related crime, this series looks at a wide spectrum of perspectives and research – often conflicting – to consider what information is useful in guiding us as parents, co-workers and citizens.

[MsTerry]

Rich, you bring upa good point.
Some of our national or state parks have become a fatality in the war on drugs.
Even though the first growers of pot could be considered "green", the latest batch seems to have no respect for land, wildlife or human life.


Back on task here...

In Saturday's P.D. was an article detailing the risk to firefighters of encountering armed patrols for pot farms while battling wildfires. I find this to be very offensive. We have wasted so much taxpayer money for so long trying to eradicate marijuana usage, with no change. We have, instead, created such a profitable enterprise that drug cartels and gangs are now setting up pot farms on federal lands with guards carrying automatic weapons.

Just 2 or 3 years ago a massive farming operation was discovered at Austin Creek Recreation Area, with signs of 5 or 6 people camped there to watch over the operation. I am a backpacker, and I have camped in this area a few times. On the last occasion, 4 years ago, I heard automatic gunfire towards the back of the property by Mill Creek Road. Sometimes I like to hike off trail; I did not do so this time due to fear of running across the source of the gunfire. I feel that it is an outrage that one should have to restrict travel on public lands due to the presence of armed guards for pot farms.


Just because something is legal does not mean that everyone will rush out to try it. And marijuana is not addictive, at least to people who are not predisposed for addiction. A person who exhibit tendencies towards addiction to pot also tend to do the same with alcohol, nicotine, gambling, religion... Most people when stoned tend to be subdued and withdrawn and certainly not an eminent threat to society. The only thing making them "criminals" are the laws classifying them as such.

I do believe that the harder, more addictive drugs should remain outlawed, but we are far overdue for decriminalizing marijuana. But, I am tired of the wasteful spending on trying to curtail marijuana. I would much rather it were controlled, regulated and taxed along with the other legal vices. I'd prefer that those who choose to indulge lower my tax rate than be taxed to incarcerate them.


Just for the record, I did experiment in my youth. And quite heavily at that. When I tired of all of it, I was able to quit and walk away. For the majority of us, lifestyle is a matter of choice and not addiction!!:2cents:

[MsTerry]

If you go to the top of any thread you have started and pull down the Thread Tools you see that you have Moderator Power to delete the thread, not just poster power to delete your own posting.

I learn something every day! :thumbsup:



The Posting Guideline you refer admittedly seems in contradiction with exercising this power, but literarily it only refers to the delete posting button.
This appears a little nit-picky, and I wonder what Barry really had in mind. Does he want people to moderate the threads they start, or should it still get monitored by the central office?

[Braggi]

... I wonder what Barry really had in mind. Does he want people to moderate the threads they start, or should it still get monitored by the central office?

Off topic to this thread, of course, but I don't like the idea that a thread starter could pull posts he doesn't like.

I think Shelley could, if she was so inspired, go through this thread and trash a few of the absurdly off topic and off color posts.

-Jeff

[Braggi]

...
Vancouver has been at the centre of the drug debate since 1995. It has led the way in taking public action, researching the effect of different strategies and considering current community attitudes. ...

It's worth noting that US (Failed) Drug War policy is to blame for lot of Canada's drug problems. The US perverts the drug policy around the globe causing disastrous results. It's yet another international shame on the US.

Time for a change?

-Jeff

[Zeno Swijtink]

Off topic to this thread, of course, but I don't like the idea that a thread starter could pull posts he doesn't like.

I think Shelley could, if she was so inspired, go through this thread and trash a few of the absurdly off topic and off color posts.

-Jeff

Agreed, but she seems to lack the acuteness of her deceased friend kqx4u. Or can we dare her??

[thewholetruth]

Off topic to this thread, of course, but I don't like the idea that a thread starter could pull posts he doesn't like.

I think Shelley could, if she was so inspired, go through this thread and trash a few of the absurdly off topic and off color posts.

-Jeff

If you're referring to any of my exchange with Ms. Terry, Jeff, there was nothing "absurdly off topic" nor "off color" about it. She piggybacked on your absurd premise that all plants should be legal, albeit she took it a step further than you, implying that since God made it, it must be okay to ingest. I demonstrated for her quite clearly the flaw of her argument, as there are many "natural" things which are not intended for oral ingestion.

[Braggi]

Agreed, but she seems to lack the acuteness of her deceased friend kqx4u. Or can we dare her??

Actually, she responds to friendly requests.

-Jeff

[Zeno Swijtink]

Actually, she responds to friendly requests.

-Jeff

I'll sit back and wait and see how she responds to your friendly request.

[Braggi]

... She piggybacked on your absurd premise that all plants should be legal, albeit she took it a step further than you, implying that since God made it, it must be okay to ingest. ...

Actually Don, I was referring to your absurd, off topic comments specifically. MsTerry's, while heading in that direction, made more sense than yours. I don't think MsTerry suggested that everything natural should be eaten. I think that was your absurdity. It was something along the lines of God made the plants and humans should have the choice about whether or not to use them. Makes sense to me.

In any case, the whole exchange among others could easily be purged without diminishing the thread.

-Jeff

[MsTerry]

Here he goes again............
Don, all the things you mentioned have been tried for ingestion, only pot was found to be effective and beneficial.
End of story.


If you're referring to any of my exchange with Ms. Terry, Jeff, there was nothing "absurdly off topic" nor "off color" about it. She piggybacked on your absurd premise that all plants should be legal, albeit she took it a step further than you, implying that since God made it, it must be okay to ingest. I demonstrated for her quite clearly the flaw of her argument, as there are many "natural" things which are not intended for oral ingestion.

[thewholetruth]

Actually Don, I was referring to your absurd, off topic comments specifically.

OuCh! That's gonna leave a mark.


MsTerry's, while heading in that direction, made more sense than yours. I don't think MsTerry suggested that everything natural should be eaten. I think that was your absurdity.

You've been wrong before, Jeff. Perhaps go back and reread her comments before your friend deletes them if you're interested in the truth.


It was something along the lines of God made the plants and humans should have the choice about whether or not to use them. Makes sense to me.

Something along the lines of? That wasn't her point, Jeff. You may have simply gotten excited about the prospect of throwing another rock at me which caused you to not really pay attention to the angle she had taken.


In any case, the whole exchange among others could easily be purged without diminishing the thread.

-Jeff

Oh, absolutely...

[Lenny]

Off topic to this thread, of course, but I don't like the idea that a thread starter could pull posts he doesn't like.
I think Shelley could, if she was so inspired, go through this thread and trash a few of the absurdly off topic and off color posts. -Jeff

Probably save several gigs of storage in the server :wink:

"Nuh huh"
"Uh huh"
"Nuh huh"
.......................................

[Lenny]

Back on task here...
In Saturday's P.D. was an article detailing the risk to firefighters of encountering armed patrols for pot farms while battling wildfires. I find this to be very offensive. We have wasted so much taxpayer money for so long trying to eradicate marijuana usage, with no change. We have, instead, created such a profitable enterprise that drug cartels and gangs are now setting up pot farms on federal lands with guards carrying automatic weapons.

I recall firemen getting rocks thrown at them for going into certain neighborhoods to put out firesthere. Shot at sometimes as well, working in the city. Should we allow crime to continue within those parts of the city that stone firemen? I would imagine that if I were a fireman I would say, "let it burn" if that happened to me. Plus that would save money too.


Just 2 or 3 years ago a massive farming operation was discovered at Austin Creek Recreation Area, with signs of 5 or 6 people camped there to watch over the operation. I am a backpacker, and I have camped in this area a few times. On the last occasion, 4 years ago, I heard automatic gunfire towards the back of the property by Mill Creek Road. Sometimes I like to hike off trail; I did not do so this time due to fear of running across the source of the gunfire. I feel that it is an outrage that one should have to restrict travel on public lands due to the presence of armed guards for pot farms.

You draw a clear picture of the problem. Price/Return ratio is important. So is having freedom to backpack and pursue, without fear, your pleasures. Tough problem to solve, but I don't think giving up is an appropriate response for scofflaws. I don't know the answer here.


Just because something is legal does not mean that everyone will rush out to try it. And marijuana is not addictive, at least to people who are not predisposed for addiction. A person who exhibit tendencies towards addiction to pot also tend to do the same with alcohol, nicotine, gambling, religion... Most people when stoned tend to be subdued and withdrawn and certainly not an eminent threat to society. The only thing making them "criminals" are the laws classifying them as such.

You raise a few points worth responding to here.
1. If legal, folks will try it; yes, they will, who can know the numbers, but dope brings "pleasure" and folks will seek that, no doubt in larger numbers than now. Are we willing to chance that and all that will bring?
2. MJ is not addictive. Technically you are correct. The golgi apparatus does not cross the neural membrane which use to be THE definition of addiction, if I recall correctly.
And because of those addictive personality types, giving them another crutch is all good?
3. Stoners are mellow. Maybe. You probably know the origin of the term "hashish". So much for "mellow".
I went into the Sebastopol Pot Store and chatted awhile. The fellow behind the counter there told me the types of pot they have. In the conversation he mentioned there are those that get "paranoid" while high, but he's got pot that doesn't produce that effect "in most cases". Current stoner culture NOW has "mellow" attached. If legal, it could (and would) change.


I do believe that the harder, more addictive drugs should remain outlawed, but we are far overdue for decriminalizing marijuana. But, I am tired of the wasteful spending on trying to curtail marijuana. I would much rather it were controlled, regulated and taxed along with the other legal vices. I'd prefer that those who choose to indulge lower my tax rate than be taxed to incarcerate them.

I've met and reasoned with addicts that make a positive case for the legalization of heroin. They made several great points: not bad for the body! I was shocked and found out they were right! Monetary and crime related issues would diminish. Made sense! Their choice. Can't argue that. Taxed revenue. True that, but of course I don't know why giving politicians more money is a GOOD thing! Like giving wine to a wino, but I digress. The world renown Mayo Clinic was started by the brothers Mayo, both morphine addicts for years with no major problems from what I've gathered. All valid arguments. So why not legalize it? Same reasoning, no?
PS: there is a reason, but it is not discernable by "science", as it is intuitive, having to do with notions of "worth" and "self" and "human being" and true and real freedom, plus they are sticky, out of date, silly matters of that nature. And there are those that wish to dispense with such notions, with the fastest way being legalization.


Just for the record, I did experiment in my youth. And quite heavily at that. When I tired of all of it, I was able to quit and walk away. For the majority of us, lifestyle is a matter of choice and not addiction!!:2cents:

Good point. Of course "life style" is always a "choice" matter by definition, no? So, did you put that drug choice down because you felt it was "dangerous" or "immature" or what, upon reflection? How long have you been clear from it? Why did you move off of it? Curious, that's all. You mention "able to quit", and does that mean more than simply not doing that smoking anymore? Is there some "heavy" meaning there, or simply my misread?

[RichT]

I recall firemen getting rocks thrown at them for going into certain neighborhoods to put out firesthere. Shot at sometimes as well, working in the city. Should we allow crime to continue within those parts of the city that stone firemen? I would imagine that if I were a fireman I would say, "let it burn" if that happened to me. Plus that would save money too.

My father-in-law (now deceased) was a fire fighter for Los Angelos and did fight the fires during the Watts riots. My wife said that was the first time she ever heard him say anything derogative or racial about blacks. I believe she said that he knew some of the fire fighters killed.
My point is that if marijuana were not illegal, we would not have to worry about pot farms with armed guards.


And because of those addictive personality types, giving them another crutch is all good?

If they really want to pursue their vices, they will find a way. The overall usage of pot has remained unchanged over all of these years our government has been trying to stem the tide. We have deemed people criminals for something that otherwise have very little impact on society. The cost has been tremendous. What benefit has it given.


Good point. Of course "life style" is always a "choice" matter by definition, no? So, did you put that drug choice down because you felt it was "dangerous" or "immature" or what, upon reflection? How long have you been clear from it? Why did you move off of it? Curious, that's all. You mention "able to quit", and does that mean more than simply not doing that smoking anymore? Is there some "heavy" meaning there, or simply my misread?

You are correct, lifestyle is a choice. For myself, I found that being stoned was not very exciting or entertaining. I got bored. I then realized that all my friends ever did was get stoned. It had seemed as though we were always doing something new, but it was mostly going to different locations to get stoned. (this was well over 20 years ago).
My addiction/religion is communion with nature. I hike, backpack, kayak, bike, snowshoe, cross country ski, etc. I don't take drugs, I don't smoke, I don't gamble and I very seldom drink at all (once every 1 or 2 months). That is my choice. I try not to begrudge others their lifestyle choices so long as they do not have a negative impact on me ( I am quite allergic to cigarette smoke and detest smokers - but that's just my opinion).

[Lorrie]

"I am quite allergic to cigarette smoke and detest smokers - but that's just my opinion)." by RichT.

I detest that you detest me. Just cause I smoke.

[MsTerry]

I recall firemen getting rocks thrown at them for going into certain neighborhoods to put out firesthere.
Is that an euphemism for getting stoned, Lenny?

[Braggi]

... You've been wrong before, Jeff. Perhaps go back and reread her comments before your friend deletes them if you're interested in the truth. ...
Something along the lines of? That wasn't her point, Jeff. You may have simply gotten excited about the prospect of throwing another rock at me which caused you to not really pay attention to the angle she had taken. ...

Don, let's put it this way: if Waccobb had a Golden Turd award, you'd be the hands down winner!

-Jeff

PS. Where's that anti-bacterial soap!

[thewholetruth]

Now I am curious!
What was her point, Sir?
What was the angle she had taken, Sir?

This is offtopic, Ma'am, (Psssst! Read post #140) and I promised the Moderator that I wouldn't do battle with you in this thread...:heart:

[Lenny]

"I am quite allergic to cigarette smoke and detest smokers - but that's just my opinion)." by RichT.

I detest that you detest me. Just cause I smoke.

Is that the "hate the sin, not the sinner" type of thingy?

[Lenny]

Quote:
Lenny wrote: https://www.waccobb.net/forums/waccobb/orangebuttons/viewpost.gif (https://www.waccobb.net/forums/showthread.php?p=64856#post64856)
I recall firemen getting rocks thrown at them for going into certain neighborhoods to put out firesthere.



Is that an euphemism for getting stoned, Lenny?

As I typed that, I actually thought of you, the Wacco Pun-mystris, and thought, "Naw, she would surly let that one go", but as I see, you made me wrong again! Coises, foiled again! ARGHH.

[RichT]

Is that the "hate the sin, not the sinner" type of thingy?


The tobacco companies, in their quest to solidify their market by making cigarettes as addictive as possible, have managed to create an extremely toxic product. Many smokers are conscious of the negative impact on others and are careful not to infringe on the rights of others by subjecting them to the effects of second hand smoke.

HOWEVER - there are many who insist that their right to smoke is greater than the right of others not to suffer from their addiction. Have you ever suffered an allergy induced headache so severe as to be bed-ridden? I Have. I do indeed detest smokers who insist on subjecting me to their second hand smoke.

I am glad that I reside in an area where people are a bit more conscious of health issues and tend to lead healthier lifestyles.

[Lorrie]

The tobacco companies, in their quest to solidify their market by making cigarettes as addictive as possible, have managed to create an extremely toxic product. Many smokers are conscious of the negative impact on others and are careful not to infringe on the rights of others by subjecting them to the effects of second hand smoke.

HOWEVER - there are many who insist that their right to smoke is greater than the right of others not to suffer from their addiction. Have you ever suffered an allergy induced headache so severe as to be bed-ridden? I Have. I do indeed detest smokers who insist on subjecting me to their second hand smoke.

I am glad that I reside in an area where people are a bit more conscious of health issues and tend to lead healthier lifestyles.


:blahblah:

[Dixon]

I don't take drugs...and I very seldom drink at all (once every 1 or 2 months).

You contradict yourself here, Rich. If you drink, you're taking a drug. Of course there's nothing whatsoever wrong with that.

But I feel strongly that it's destructive to talk about drugs like alcohol, tobacco and even caffeine as if they're not drugs. Such denial allows people to kid themselves that they and their friends are not druggies like those horrible people over there. Then they typically do the denial/projection thing: deny their own addictiveness, project it onto "those druggies over there" (who are often using drugs less dangerous than the legal ones), and then support oppressive laws that screw up more lives than the drugs themselves do.

You don't have to look further than this thread to see the pernicious results of the denial that legal drugs are just as much drugs as are illegal ones. So I urge you to think of yourself realistically as one who occasionally uses a very addictive and dangerous drug--without apology, as you're apparently harming no one.


I am quite allergic to cigarette smoke and detest smokers - but that's just my opinion).

I'm sure you meant to say that you detest inconsiderate smokers, right? I myself have had many days or evenings ruined by inconsiderate smokers who sickened me at work, or who ruined an outing to a concert or whatever. But we oughta make sure we're not painting all smokers with the same brush. I have no gripe with the considerate ones--those who make damn sure that no one who doesn't want their smoke has to breathe it. Of course, there are plenty who would like to think that you and I are unreasonable for insisting that we have the right not to breathe their poisonous smoke, but not all smokers are so self-centered. To paraphrase an old cliche: "Some of my best friends are smokers."

Dixon

[Lorrie]

I'm sure you meant to say that you detest inconsiderate smokers, right? I myself have had many days or evenings ruined by inconsiderate smokers who sickened me at work, or who ruined an outing to a concert or whatever. But we oughta make sure we're not painting all smokers with the same brush. I have no gripe with the considerate ones--those who make damn sure that no one who doesn't want their smoke has to breathe it. Of course, there are plenty who would like to think that you and I are unreasonable for insisting that we have the right not to breathe their poisonous smoke, but not all smokers are so self-centered. To paraphrase an old cliche: "Some of my best friends are smokers."

Dixon

Okay I will tell you all that I am a conciderate smoker, as my habit inconveniences me sometimes. I do not "force" others to endure my second hand smoke.

I will always talk to kids and tell them don't ever start!

I will put a cigarette out at a moment of someone's inconvenience. When I am aware that is.
But I don't think that people who don't smoke should come down so hard on us that do. Makes you wholier than thou and I hate that attitude.
You are not better than me, you were just not in my life situation when it was started. I didn't know what I know now and was influenced by piers and relatives.

I my experience is that alot of the people who smoke, that I know, are really fun people. The people who don't not so much...and are kind of stuffy and uptight.

I suppose I will quit one day, but that is my own personal choice. I have even experimented with that a time or two. I suppose I am just not ready... maybe won't be ready even when I am on a ventilator!! Again my choice.:neener:

[RichT]

I suppose I will quit one day, but that is my own personal choice. I have even experimented with that a time or two. I suppose I am just not ready... maybe won't be ready even when I am on a ventilator!! Again my choice.:neener:


cough, cough.

[RichT]

You contradict yourself here, Rich. If you drink, you're taking a drug. Of course there's nothing whatsoever wrong with that.
Dixon
Only Irish coffee provides in a single glass all four essential food groups: - alcohol, caffeine, sugar and fat. - - AlexLevine
:hmmm:

[Lenny]

The tobacco companies, in their quest to solidify their market by making cigarettes as addictive as possible, have managed to create an extremely toxic product. Many smokers are conscious of the negative impact on others and are careful not to infringe on the rights of others by subjecting them to the effects of second hand smoke. HOWEVER - there are many who insist that their right to smoke is greater than the right of others not to suffer from their addiction. Have you ever suffered an allergy induced headache so severe as to be bed-ridden? I Have. I do indeed detest smokers who insist on subjecting me to their second hand smoke.

Rich, you are a person of many mysteries!
You would allow MJ to be legalized, while detesting smokers! Not a big problem me as I understand we all have contradictions in our lives, but as a public policy I trust you would just as soon ban public smoking of tobacco. Some of the arguments made here could also be made by heroin users: my right, my body, my addiction (like smokers) and it ain't harming you.


I am glad that I reside in an area where people are a bit more conscious of health issues and tend to lead healthier lifestyles.

Glad for you also. Was amazed while in Europe the amount & places people smoked. Inconsiderate savages!

[Lorrie]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sHzdsFiBbFc

[Zeno Swijtink]

"Sitting beneath a willow tree on a breezy day in Sonoma County, you can see why the idea of leaving the city behind and growing your own weed exerts such a pull on the holistic health nuts, masseurs, d.j.s, art-school dropouts, and New Age types who populate the medical-marijuana scene in Los Angeles. Farming a crop of twenty-five or thirty plants of killer weed is an updated (and highly profitable) version of the age-old California dream of an orange tree in every back yard. For those who can’t afford to pay for a prime plot of land in Humboldt, there is the possibility of renting a small split-level house in Sonoma or Mendocino and converting the master bedroom into a grow room, where you can turn around an indoor crop every sixty days."

*****
https://www.newyorker.com/images/2008/07/28/p233/080728_r17425_p233.jpg

A REPORTER AT LARGE
DR. KUSH
How medical marijuana is transforming the pot industry. (https://www.newyorker.com/reporting/2008/07/28/080728fa_fact_samuels)
by David Samuels
JULY 28, 2008

California now has more than two hundred thousand physician-sanctioned pot users and hundreds of dispensaries.

RELATED LINKS

Audio: The California Dream

Talk of the Town: Inside Dope

KEYWORDS

Marijuana; Drugs; Captain Blue; California; Agriculture; Proposition 215; Dispensaries

The Tibetan prayer flags suspended on a string over the sleeping body of Captain Blue rose and fell in fluttering counterpoint to the wheezy rhythm of his breath. Lifted by a gentle breeze off the Pacific Ocean, each swatch of red, white, yellow, or green cotton bore a paragraph of Asian script. Every time a flag flaps in the breeze, it is thought, a prayer flies off to Heaven. Blue’s mother says that when her son was an infant he used to sleep until noon, which is still the time that he wakes up most days, on his platform bed in a one-bedroom apartment overlooking Venice Beach, a neighborhood of Los Angeles.

It was now three o’clock in the afternoon, and Captain Blue was dozing after a copious inhalation of purified marijuana vapor. (His nickname is an homage to his favorite variety of bud.) His hair was black and greasy, and was spread across his pillow. On the front of his purple T-shirt, which had slid up to expose his round belly, were the words “Big Daddy.” With his arm wrapped around a three-foot-long green bong, he resembled a large, contented baby who has fallen asleep with his milk bottle.

Captain Blue is a pot broker. More precisely, he helps connect growers of high-grade marijuana upstate to the retail dispensaries that sell marijuana legally to Californians on a doctor’s recommendation. Since 1996, when a referendum known as Proposition 215 was approved by California voters, it has been legal, under California state law, for authorized patients to possess or cultivate the drug. The proposition also allowed a grower to cultivate marijuana for a patient, as long as he had been designated a “primary caregiver” by that patient. Although much of the public discussion centered on the needs of patients with cancer, AIDS, and other diseases that are synonymous with extraordinary suffering, the language of the proposition was intentionally broad, covering any medical condition for which a licensed physician might judge marijuana to be an appropriate remedy—insomnia, say, or attention-deficit disorder.

The inside of Blue’s apartment, where he spends most of his time, measures less than four hundred square feet. It opens onto a huge wraparound terrace that offers mind-bending views of the ocean and the Hollywood Hills. The apartment, which is in the vicinity of Washington Boulevard, used to be occupied by another pot dealer, who moved out a few years ago, leaving Blue with his crash pad and a list of about a hundred patients. The building is near Abbot Kinney Boulevard, the commercial drag in Venice that, in recent years, has been transformed from a low-rent strip of bars and secondhand-clothing stores into a destination for well-heeled shoppers and restaurant-goers. The building retains a funky seventies vibe, with white wood floors, murky brown walls, and faded Morrison Hotel-style carpets. The sounds of “Tom and Jerry” episodes blare through locked doors in the middle of the day.



FROM THE ISSUE

CARTOON BANK

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I recently spent six months, off and on, with Blue—at his apartment, in private homes, on farms, in pot grow rooms, and in other places where “medical marijuana” is produced, traded, sold, and consumed in California. During that time, I saw thousands of Tibetan prayer flags. The flags identify their owners with serenity and the conscious path, rather than with the sinister world of urban dope dealers, who flaunt muscles and guns, and charge exorbitant prices for mediocre product. For Blue and tens of thousands of like-minded individuals, Proposition 215 presented an opportunity to participate in a legally sanctioned experiment in altered living. The people I met in the high-end ganja business had an affinity for higher modes of thinking and being, including vegetarianism and eating organic food, practicing yoga, avoiding prescription drugs in favor of holistic healing methods, travelling to Indonesia and Thailand, fasting, and experimenting with hallucinogenic drugs. Many were also financially savvy, working long hours and making six-figure incomes.

Blue and I have known each other for almost two decades. Our fathers were both professors of political science, and, starting in the mid-eighties, we both attended Ivy League colleges in the Northeast, where we shared a fondness for illegal drugs. After graduation, Blue spun records and taught nursery school in Manhattan. He left for California in 1998, not long after the state banned cigarette smoking in workplaces—Blue is highly allergic to cigarette smoke—and passed Proposition 215. After working for a while as a bouncer, he began selling pot full time.

In 2003, the California State Legislature passed Senate Bill 420. The law was intended to clear up some of the confusion caused by Proposition 215, which had failed to specify how patients who could not grow their own pot were expected to obtain the drug, and how much pot could be cultivated for medical purposes. The law permitted any Californian with a doctor’s note to own up to six mature marijuana plants, or to possess up to half a pound of processed weed, which could be obtained from a patients’ collective or coöperative—terms that were not precisely defined in the statute. It also permitted a primary caregiver to be paid “reasonable compensation” for services provided to a qualified patient “to enable that person to use marijuana.”

The counties of California were allowed to amend the state guidelines, and the result was a patchwork of rules and regulations. Upstate in Humboldt County, the heartland of high-grade marijuana farming in California, the district attorney, Paul Gallegos, decided that a resident could grow up to ninety-nine plants at a time, in a space of a hundred square feet or less, on behalf of a qualified patient. The limited legal protections afforded to pot growers and dispensary owners have turned marijuana cultivation and distribution in California into a classic “gray area” business, like gambling or strip clubs, which are tolerated or not, to varying degrees, depending on where you live and on how aggressive your local sheriff is feeling that afternoon. This summer, Jerry Brown, the state’s attorney general, plans to release a more consistent set of regulations on medical marijuana, but it is not clear that California’s judges will uphold his effort. In May, the state Court of Appeal, in Los Angeles, ruled that Senate Bill 420’s cap on the amount of marijuana a patient could possess was unconstitutional, because voters had not approved the limits.

Most researchers agree that the value of the U.S. marijuana crop has increased sharply since the mid-nineties, as California and twelve other states have passed medical-marijuana laws. A drug-policy analyst named Jon Gettman recently estimated that in 2006 Californians grew more than twenty million pot plants. He reckoned that between 1981 and 2006 domestic marijuana production increased tenfold, making pot the leading cash crop in America, displacing corn. A 2005 State Department report put the country’s marijuana crop at twenty-two million pounds. The street value of California’s crop alone may be as high as fourteen billion dollars.

According to Americans for Safe Access, which lobbies for medical marijuana, there are now more than two hundred thousand physician-sanctioned pot users in California. They acquire their medication from hundreds of dispensaries, collectives that are kept alive by the financial contributions of their patients, who pay cash for each quarter or eighth of an ounce of pot. The dispensaries also buy marijuana from their members, and sometimes directly from growers, whose crops can also be considered legal, depending on the size of the crop, the town where the plants are grown, and the disposition of the judge who hears the case.

California’s encouragement of a licit market for pot has set off a low-level civil war with the federal government. Growing, selling, and smoking marijuana remain strictly illegal under federal law. The Drug Enforcement Administration, which maintains that marijuana poses a danger to users on a par with heroin and PCP, has kept up an energetic presence in the state, busting pot growers and dispensary owners with the coöperation of some local police departments.

In the past five years, an unwritten set of rules has emerged to govern Californians participating in the medical-marijuana trade. Federal authorities do not generally bother arresting patients or doctors who write prescriptions. Instead, the D.E.A. pressures landlords to evict dispensaries and stages periodic raids on them, either shutting them down or seizing their money and marijuana. Dispensary owners are rarely arrested, and patient records are usually left alone. Through trial and error, dispensary owners have learned how to avoid trouble: Don’t advertise in newspapers, on billboards, or on flyers distributed door to door. Don’t sell to minors or cops. Don’t open more than two stores. Any Californian who is reasonably prudent can live a life centered on the cultivation, sale, and consumption of marijuana with little fear of being fined or going to jail.

Captain Blue displays his pot on a shelf by his bed, next to two new laptop computers and an assemblage of high-end stereo equipment. The weed is kept in silver Ziploc bags. All the pot that Blue sells is grown in accordance with California state law, he says, and is provided only to dispensaries of which Blue is a member, and to patients for whom he is the primary caregiver.

Blue has a photo I.D. card from the City of Los Angeles confirming that he is a bona-fide medical-marijuana patient. His malady is anxiety. On a side table by his bed, he keeps a Volcano, a German-made vaporizer that resembles a stainless-steel coffeemaker. The Volcano, which costs five hundred dollars, warms dried marijuana, releasing vapor into a plastic bag and leaving behind a toasted brown chaff that smells oddly like popcorn. When Blue uses the Volcano, he inhales the contents of the plastic bag through a bong, which purifies the vapor.

While Blue napped, I wandered around his apartment, and counted nearly a dozen images and carvings of the elephant-headed Hindu god Ganesha. The proliferation of Ganesha dates back to a well-publicized federal bust in January, 2007, when the D.E.A. seized the medicine and cash of eleven pot dispensaries in Los Angeles. The only major dispensary that wasn’t busted had a Ganesha in its window. Now it is hard to find a karmically inclined ganja dealer in Los Angeles who doesn’t own a herd of lucky figurines.

Blue’s cell phone rang several times in succession, rousing him. His phone rings, on average, once every two and a half minutes between noon and 2 A.M., and I soon developed a Pavlovian aversion to his ringtone, a swirling, Middle Eastern-inflected electronica tune called “Lebanese Blonde.” Blue switches phone numbers every six months or so. Although it is unlikely that the D.E.A. would tap his phone, he told me, it doesn’t hurt to take simple precautions, if only to reassure his more paranoid clients.

Blue answered the phone, rubbed his eyes, and began rattling off numbers. “Three hundred fifty? Three-fifty? Three-twenty-five? We could do three-twenty-five,” he said, quoting a final price per ounce. Assuming a sitting position on his bed, he punched numbers into a calculator and suggested some designer strains that his patient might enjoy.

“Try Sour Diesel,” he told the client. “Take that and the Bubba Kush.” In addition to Sour Diesel and Bubba Kush, which are grown indoors, he also had AK Mist, an outdoor strain; Jedi, which is brown and fuzzy; Purple Urkel, whose hue is suggested by its name; O.G. Kush and L.A. Confidential, two particularly potent strains; and Lavender, a fragrant purple grown up North. Modern Kush plants are derived from a strain that is said to have originated in the Hindu Kush mountains, in Afghanistan and Pakistan, and, according to stoner lore, was imported to Southern California by some hippie surfers in the seventies, and then popularized in the late nineties by the Los Angeles rap group Cypress Hill. Stronger, better-tasting varieties of pot can sell for more than five thousand dollars per pound, more than double the price of average weed. The premium paid for designer pot creates a big incentive for growers and dealers to name their product for whatever strains happen to be fashionable that year. The variety of buds being sold as Kush has proliferated to the point where even the most catholic-minded botanist would be hard pressed to identify a common plant ancestor.

Only a small percentage of consumer marijuana sales in California occur within the medical-marijuana market. Even so, the dispensaries, by serving as a gold standard for producers and consumers, have fuelled the popularity of high-end strains in much the same way that the popularity of the Whole Foods grocery chain has brought heirloom lettuce to ordinary supermarkets. To serve these sophisticated new consumers, growers in California and elsewhere are producing hundreds of exotic new strains, whose effects are more varied, subtle, and powerful than the street-level pot available to tokers in the nineteen-seventies and eighties.

“Does Terrence have paperwork with him?” Blue asked the customer. From the living room, I could hear the hum of the Volcano and the crinkle of the expanding plastic bag. The vapor in the bag was Gush, a robust mixture of Goo—a lighter, giddier high—and Kush.

Blue’s business consists mainly of selling a few pounds a week to various dispensaries; occasionally, though, a single outlet will buy five or more pounds at a time. In the course of a month, Blue is typically in debt to half a dozen people, and in turn holds markers for twenty to thirty thousand dollars that he is owed by distributors around town. Because Blue works only with people he trusts, he usually gets his money back, although it can take as long as two or three years for some debtors to make good. Understanding the abstractions of ganja credit and debt is important in the pot business, where financial success is determined largely by the velocity of your cash transactions. A practiced flipper like Blue can make twenty to thirty dollars on an eighth of an ounce of high-grade pot, which retails for anywhere between fifty and seventy-five dollars. Last year, Blue made roughly a hundred thousand dollars, and paid some ten thousand in taxes.

Later in the afternoon, a friend of Blue’s, who calls herself Lily, showed up with a duffelbag. She unzipped the bag and placed on Blue’s kitchen table three black trash bags filled with ganja. Lily is a courier; she transports pot to Los Angeles from the growing regions upstate. A witchy Japanese-American girl with a dolphin tattoo on her right shoulder, she wore large gold hoop earrings, a Lucite cross necklace, and sunglasses perched on top of her hair. She said that she got into the business because she suffers from chronic back and neck pain from a spinal injury, and found that smoking weed helped her with symptoms such as nausea and a loss of appetite.

Captain Blue encourages the growers he deals with to stay within legal cultivation limits, and makes sure that the dispensaries he joins keep the doctor’s recommendations of members on file. The only participants in Blue’s transactions whose activities are not strictly covered by prevailing interpretations of state law are couriers, or mules, who usually transport marijuana in airtight containers in the trunk, seats, or tires of a car. Neither Proposition 215 nor Senate Bill 420 spelled out how medical marijuana should be transported from rural growers to urban patients, leaving the mules as the least protected link in the distribution chain. Once the mules reach Los Angeles, they make the rounds of middlemen like Blue, who can legally broker their product to dispensaries where they are members. Mules receive a cut that ranges from five to sixteen per cent of the purchase price.

Being a courier was risky, Lily said, but the pay was good enough to let her not work for half the year. Her methods of transporting the pot from Northern California to Blue’s apartment were time-tested and low-tech. You get the largest garbage bags you can find, some food bags, and a vacuum sealer. Then you double- or triple-bag the pot, seal it, pack it in garbage bags, put the bags inside some old newspapers, and stuff the bags into some cheap knapsacks, and then put three knapsacks each into duffelbags, along with a few hockey gloves or soccer balls. Then you pack the duffelbags in the back of the trunk and throw an old blanket over them, and toss on top a few folding chairs, along with some grocery bags full of fresh organic apples, to mask the scent of pot.

Blue, having assessed Lily’s stash, made his offer for a portion. “Six thousand,” he said.

One day, Blue and I went for a drive up the Pacific Coast Highway, in his blue hybrid S.U.V. I watched him make more than a thousand dollars in under an hour, dealing on the phone. “I’ve got some tasty L.A. Confidential,” he told a customer, motioning me to extract a disk of trance music from a pile of stale laundry in the back seat. “It’s like O.G. Kush. A pound? I think I can do that.” Blue said that he sells pot solely for medical purposes, although he conceded the possibility that some clients might break their purchases down into smaller amounts for the street trade. Asking questions about what buyers intend to do with their pot is not friendly behavior, Blue explained with a smile.

We were headed up to Topanga Canyon, in the mountains near Malibu, to meet a broker who supplies Blue with some of the best weed in the state. I’ll call him Guthrie. A lifelong resident of Humboldt County, he funds a number of growing operations, ranging from a large underground bunker to smaller outdoor plots of fewer than a hundred plants. He also uses a fat bankroll to buy product from other producers, which he takes to Los Angeles two or three times a month. The house in Topanga, an old hippie enclave, belonged to a friend who let Guthrie sleep outside in a blue-and-green tent that resembled one of Buckminster Fuller’s geodesic domes. I ducked to avoid a string of Tibetan prayer flags that hung over the entrance.

Guthrie was a lean, healthy-looking, brown-eyed man in his mid-thirties. “We have a list of all the pot growers in Humboldt County,” he said, repeating an old Northern joke for my benefit. “It’s called the Yellow Pages.” He reached beneath a table and handed Blue a large black trash bag. Blue untied the bag and stuck his head inside, as the rich aroma of Purple Kush filled the interior of the tent.

“Mmm,” Blue said, inhaling. Purple Kush smells like a mixture of cardamom and cloves, with a darker, earthier undertone of dried peat moss, and an acidic top note evoking freshly ground coffee. The two men agreed on a figure of forty-four hundred dollars a pound; the price had eased somewhat since its peak, in 2005. A large number of new growers entering the market had nudged prices down.

Guthrie’s parents had been hippies. Growing up in Humboldt, he and his siblings got used to fleeing their house in the middle of the night when D.E.A. helicopters raided his family’s growing patch. Perhaps a quarter of the kids in his class had parents involved in the marijuana trade. “You’d say, ‘My dad, he fixes our house a lot,’ ” Guthrie recalled with a laugh, as he offered me a loaded pipe. By the end of the summer, the family was usually broke. In October, the harvest would come, and the family would sell their crop and have a great Christmas; by the next summer, they’d be back in a jam.

Guthrie stayed out of the family business until he was twenty-seven. Then he obtained a trucker’s license and began hauling propane. Since truckers who transport hazardous materials are professional drivers who must go through background checks, the police generally leave them alone once they show their license, whether they are driving a truck or not. Guthrie’s trucker’s license gave his family a free pass through the “gantlet”—a stretch of Highway 101 between Humboldt and Santa Rosa where state police routinely search cars for pot.

Guthrie said that the quasi-legal status of smaller growing arrangements, combined with consumers’ preference for potent, high-maintenance weed, has shifted the balance of the pot business away from large-scale farms. “There’s a lot more people doing little scenes,” he said. The welter of laws pertaining to medical marijuana in California has offered careful operators like Guthrie the best of both worlds: prosecution for growing and selling has become much less likely, while federal busts and seizures keep prices high. Guthrie sells about ten per cent of his product to dispensaries and collectives. Starting up a sophisticated indoor farming operation costs about three hundred thousand dollars, he said, including the cost of making a building airtight—to lock in the humidity, and to keep passersby from smelling the pot and calling the cops—and fitting it with thousand-watt grow lights.

Guthrie grows his plants in octagons, a hydroponic arrangement that allows producers to maximize the number of plants in a confined space. The cost of a piece of property upstate can run an additional three hundred thousand to one and a half million dollars, he said. After a few years, if you know what you are doing, you can make your investment back, and then you can pay a sharecropper to run your operation and spend your time travelling. Guthrie told Blue that he would soon be heading to Indonesia. “It’s amazing over there,” he said. The last time he was in Java, he recalled, he stayed in a Muslim village near the beach, and found the people generally relaxed and welcoming, if somewhat hostile to the Western habit of lying in the sun without clothing.

Life was good, he said; the only problem was that too many other people wanted the same life. Most people who moved up North to become pot entrepreneurs fucked it up, he said. Their failures, however, did nothing to diminish the potency of the dream.

One of Captain Blue’s regular marijuana customers was a dispensary in Venice Beach. The store, which has cement floors, a glass display case, and a couch the color of aluminum, looks like a cross between a photographer’s loft and a Kiehl’s boutique. When I last visited, large Mason jars in the display case were filled with designer strains of weed selected by the owner, Cindy 99, whose nickname refers to a variety of designer pot. In a refrigerator, and marked “For medicinal use only,” were treats such as marijuana granola and marijuana milk chocolate with crispy wafers. Above the counter hung a notice: “To our valued patients: in accordance with California law, we are required to add 8.25% sales tax.”

Cindy 99’s employees included a receptionist, a full-time counter girl, a part-time counter girl, and a bonded security guard—a former Green Beret—who is licensed to carry a weapon. Dr. Dean, a local physician, saw aspiring patients at the dispensary once a week. As long as they had a California state I.D., those who received recommendations for marijuana could buy some immediately from the dispensary’s stock. Cindy told me that when she opened her shop, in 2007, she needed the same licenses that she would have needed to open a newsstand on the Santa Monica Pier: a commercial lease, a seller’s permit, a federal tax I.D. number, and a tobacco license (for selling rolling papers and pipes). She estimated that forty per cent of her clients suffer from serious illnesses such as cancer, AIDS, glaucoma, epilepsy, and M.S. The rest have ailments like anxiety, sleeplessness, A.D.D., and assorted pains.

Like many other dispensary owners I spoke with, Cindy derives particular satisfaction from providing medication to people who suffer from chronic diseases. Although she suspects that there is nothing seriously wrong with many of the young men who come in to buy an eighth of L.A. Confidential, she doesn’t regard marijuana as a harmful drug when compared with Xanax, Valium, Prozac, and other pills that are commonly prescribed by physicians to treat vague complaints of anxiety or dysphoria. It was easy to see why the dispensary was so popular with young men: there was good pot, and Cindy 99, who is in her thirties, looks like an adolescent boy’s fantasy of his best friend’s hot older sister. The day I was there, she wore a tight sleeveless blue T-shirt with a gilt-winged emblem of a flying horse.

The first customer of the day was a Hispanic guy with three tattoos, the biggest one of which read “Angeles del Inferno.” He had a doctor’s note on file. After a short discussion, Cindy recommended two strains, which cost sixty-five dollars for an eighth. “These two have sativa in them,” she said. “They’re really good for daytime use.” All strains of pot sold in the United States are derived from two varieties of the plant—indica and sativa—which have discernibly different effects on the user. Indica is a heavier, numbing drug; sativa is better for doing creative work or listening to music. Cindy refers to a popular book called “The Big Book of Buds” to determine the precise balance of indica and sativa in the strains she sells. Purple Urkel, Cindy explained, was mostly indica, making it better for alleviating pain. “The percentages are arbitrary, because of all the cross-breeding,” Cindy admitted to me. “You take a Blueberry and you cross it with a Kush and you go back into Trainwreck, and how do you get a percentage from that?”

A young white man, barely out of his teens, with lace-up black boots, a nubby backpack, and a goatee, came in and bought an eighth of Trainwreck. He selected a chocolate turtle from the edibles case while gazing shyly at Cindy. “Don’t eat it all at once if you have anything to do,” she warned him.

Cindy has been in the ganja business for seventeen years, her entire adult life. Both of her parents grow pot. She began selling weed in high school, in British Columbia, where enforcement of anti-marijuana laws was famously lax. One day, a friend asked her if she would help distribute what his mom had grown. Within six weeks, they had doubled their money. “We started bringing it from Canada down to California,” she recalled. “And then we moved to snowmobiles and then hollow-panelled speedboats on trailers, and then semis and shadow-planes. A plane would go up in the States and another plane would go up in Canada, and they’d fly around as if they were sightseeing, and you’re allowed to switch airspace as long as you don’t land. And then they would land in each other’s countries looking like each other, same serial number, same everything.”

A patio in back of the shop had been set up with a white plastic table with a batik tablecloth and two plastic chairs, in preparation for Dr. Dean’s weekly visit. Each prospective patient pays the Doctor a hundred and fifty dollars, in cash, for a diagnostic interview. Dr. Dean’s full name is Dr. Dean Hillel Weiss. Forty years old, he is one of a few dozen doctors in Los Angeles who regularly write medical-marijuana recommendations. In the past few years, he said, he had written several thousand such letters, none of which had been successfully challenged in court.

I told Dean that I wanted a doctor’s recommendation that would allow me to legally smoke pot. He began a fifteen-minute interview, asking me about my reasons for wanting the drug. “How long have you been under the care of a psychiatrist?” he asked me, writing down the answer on a notepad. I provided him with a bill from my psychiatrist in New York, along with proof that I was currently living in California. He then quizzed me about my brief and unsatisfactory experiences with prescription medications for anxiety and depression, and my history of illegal drug use. Deciding that I was a suitable candidate for a medicalmarijuana recommendation, Dr. Dean took my money and provided me with a quick tutorial on strains of pot—indica offered a “body high,” whereas sativa was “more heady and abstract”—along with a signed letter certifying that I was a patient under his care. The letter was good for a year, after which I could renew it, for a hundred dollars.

So far that day, Dr. Dean had seen seven patients, including a former doorman at a Manhattan night club, a musician working on a Bob Marley tribute album, and a young woman named Cassandra who was in the publishing business and came armed with a purse full of prescription medications for anxiety and depression. The vast majority of his referrals, he said, were by word of mouth. Though he was always careful to observe the letter of California state law, he said, “My personal belief is that marijuana is a useful and relatively harmless substance and that adults should be free to choose whether they want to use it or not.”

Dean graduated from Columbia University and SUNY Downstate Medical Center, and began an orthopedics residency in his home town of Detroit before moving to Los Angeles, in 1998, and becoming an emergency-room doctor at Martin Luther King, Jr./Drew Medical Center—known to locals as Killer King. By 2005, he was burned out. One day, a friend invited him over to his house to sample some marijuana that he had obtained from his fiancée’s boss, who had a recommendation for pot. “My friend said, ‘I’ve got six strains you’ve got to try. I’ve got lollipops, I’ve got brownies,’ ” Dr. Dean recalled. “I went over. It was like being in Amsterdam. At the end of the night, he turned to me and said, ‘You know, you hate working in the emergency room. Maybe you should look into this.’ ”

Cassandra, the publishing employee, was interviewed by Dr. Dean after I was. Emerging from the patio, she said, “That was amazing! That was fantastic!” She went over to the display case.

“What’s the best in terms of social life, having other people around?” she asked. As Cindy discussed the relative merits of the various sativa strains, Cassandra noticed some small hash pipes in the glass case.

“It’s a great little travel device that you can take to the beach,” Cindy explained.

“No way! Cool! I love it!” Cassandra said. She bought one.

As Cindy weighed out Cassandra’s marijuana purchases, which totalled a hundred and ten dollars, she commiserated with her new customer about the unattractive names of some popular strains. “Cat Piss?” she said. “Dog Shit? If it’s going to be legal, the stoners can’t still be making up the names.”

The Farmacy, which has outlets in West Hollywood, Venice, and Westwood, made Cindy 99’s dispensary look like a mom-and-pop operation. Famous for the “Very Open” neon sign in the window of the West Hollywood location, the Farmacy has the carefully art-designed “natural” aesthetic of an Aveda boutique. The reigning concept is that pot is simply another benign medicinal herb, like echinacea or ginkgo biloba. The Farmacy is the brainchild of Michael, an elusive hippie who doesn’t give out his last name and whose defiant nature and marketing prowess have made him a celebrity on the medical-marijuana scene. His success has begun to irritate the authorities: the D.E.A. recently forced the Farmacy’s landlord to close a fourth outlet, in Santa Monica.

I met Michael one afternoon at the Venice store, a large retail space on Abbot Kinney. In the front of the shop, Asian handicrafts are for sale. Saint-John’s-wort and various Chinese herbs are stocked in jars behind the main counter; a forty-two-inch plasma TV screen displays Tao symbols and other karmic imagery. An extensive selection of organic soaps and shampoos is available in the back of the store, near a children’s-medicine section. The main sign that the Farmacy is not, in fact, a Body Shop is a large color portrait on the wall of Bob Marley, smiling broadly while toking on a fat spliff.

Customers with a valid doctor’s letter may request one of the bamboo-bound menus kept behind the counter, which list available strains of pot, some of them requiring a “donation” of seventy-five dollars per gram. There is also a gelato bar, which offers a variety of flavors laced with marijuana and other herbs.

Michael, a sixty-year-old man with a gray ponytail, was wearing jeans, a faded navy T-shirt, a yellow flannel shirt, and a battered fleece vest. Shifting impatiently from one foot to the other, he read from a poster on the wall stating that words and phrases like “weed,” “dope,” and “getting stoned” were used to “devalue, disempower, and criminalize people who choose to use medical cannabis.” Recently, he noted, characters on “Desperate Housewives” had used the words “medicine” and “medicating” while referring to cannabis consumption. The culture was changing. “We see cannabis as a gateway herb,” he said.

Upstairs, he showed me a light-filled waiting room with a grand piano and handcrafted wood chairs and couches. Someday soon, he said, the room would be filled with patients waiting to meet with therapists practicing massage, acupuncture, and other healing arts. Licensed professionals would be available to consult about medication, diet, and exercise. The waiting room was even equipped with children’s toys, so that mothers could bring their kids to appointments. As we spoke, he trimmed some long-stemmed flowers that were in a vase on top of the piano. He then sat down and played a passage of Brahms.

Michael had trouble sitting in one place for any length of time, a legacy, in part, of five and a half years he says he spent in San Quentin for various pot-related offenses. (Spending years in a small, cramped prison cell had made him antsy, he said.) Michael has been involved in the marijuana business since he was eighteen years old. His first big deal, with an Arab partner, was smuggling into California two hundred pounds of hash from Lebanon. In the early seventies, he attended a pot-legalization rally in Washington, D.C. While in the city, he did some research on cannabis at the Library of Congress. He found a trove of cannabis studies from the early twentieth century; botanists at the time had studied the plant extensively. According to a paper from 1903, the internal clock that tells a marijuana plant whether to flower or not could be turned on or off by varying its exposure to light. By lengthening the “day” to sixteen or eighteen hours, growers could speed up the initial growth of the plants; later in the growing cycle, they could cut back on light exposure, causing female plants to flower. The useless male plants, which produce pollen rather than smokable buds, could then be thrown away.

By speeding up the growing cycle and getting rid of the males, you could produce three or four times the amount of pot indoors. In the winter of 1973, Michael, who was living in Mendocino County, put together a slide show for upstate growers based on what he had learned about manipulating the growing cycle. “Nobody ever grew males again,” he boasted.

Michael said that he served two stints in San Quentin. After he was discharged the second time, in 1999, he grew tomatoes for Whole Foods and worked for a seed bank. After the passage of Senate Bill 420, a friend told him about the dispensary scene and loaned him a 1987 BMW. Michael placed an ad in the newspaper saying that he would deliver cannabis right to a customer’s door. He opened the first Farmacy in 2005.

I asked Michael if being involved in the dispensary business was a wise choice for a two-time drug offender. “I’ve got two strikes around my neck, and, yes, I’ve been anxious,” he said. He noted that he had ten children from various wives and girlfriends, all of whom were supported by the income from his stores. He declined to reveal how much money he made.

Michael jumped off the couch and bounded downstairs to take care of some business, leaving me with JoAnna LaForce, who helps run the business side of the Farmacy. A cheerful woman in her fifties, she believes that she is the only pharmacist in the United States who actively participates in a medical-cannabis dispensary. Though doctors are protected under California state law, she explained, pharmacists are not, which means that she is theoretically subject to arrest, although the D.E.A. generally avoids entanglements with medical professionals.

LaForce told me that she had once been married to Michael; they did not have children. “I met him in San Diego in February, 1993, through a mutual friend,” she said. “At the time, he was on the lam. We were together for a year before the feds took him away.” When he got out of prison, they were together for two more years, and then he went to Mexico, to live on the beach and surf. When Michael decided to open the Farmacy, she was happy to help.

LaForce spent fifteen years working in a hospice with dying patients. “I saw the value of alternative medicine, particularly cannabis, in helping with appetite, pain management, and anxiety,” she said. “I found that I could use cannabis to decrease the pain medication, which in turn made patients able to spend their last days talking to their friends, spouses, to share good times.” The upcoming pot harvest, she said, was set to be the largest in the state’s history, adding, “There is a gold rush going on with cannabis in the state of California.”

The dispensary owners of Los Angeles hold a meeting once a month in an anonymous office building in the shadow of Cedars-Sinai hospital. At a recent gathering, a sign on the wall said “Stop Arresting Medical Marijuana Patients.” The shades were drawn. There were twenty-five people in attendance, and most of them were either in their mid-twenties or in their mid-forties. A few—such as a muscular man in biker gear and a woman in glittery flip-flops and not much else—looked like refugees from the porn industry.

The meeting began with a “raid update,” delivered by Chris Fusco, a young field coördinator for Americans for Safe Access. In the past month alone, ten dispensaries had been raided in Los Angeles by the D.E.A. “Raids suck,” Fusco said.

“I think things will get worse before they get better,” said Don Duncan, the owner of the California Patients Group, a large dispensary that was raided by the D.E.A., and then shut down, in the summer of 2007. He owns another dispensary, the Los Angeles Caregivers and Patients Group, which was raided a few months later but has subsequently reopened, despite the rumored seizure of close to a million dollars in marijuana. (Duncan puts the figure at thirteen thousand dollars’ worth of cannabis-based products.)

Several of the top dispensary owners had recently attended meetings with the city planning department, the city attorney, and the L.A.P.D. The meetings were intended to help draft a set of legal guidelines to govern the conduct of the dispensaries. Despite the dispensary owners’ willingness to coöperate with the city, Duncan said, everyone who attended the meetings had either had his dispensary raided by the D.E.A. or received a letter from his landlord asking him to give up his lease, owing to threats from federal authorities that the property would be seized.

“What is the information that the D.E.A. wants from the people they detain in these raids?” a man asked.

“They want to know who is in charge and where the medicine comes from,” Duncan answered. “They want growers.” Patient records were untouched. “They left all the concentrates,” he added, describing the aftermath of the raid on the Los Angeles Caregivers and Patients Group. “That’s how we reopened the vapor bar.”

“Did they take computers?” another person asked.

“They planted some tracking software that records user names and passwords which was transmitting to an I.P. address in Virginia,” Duncan said. “Our computer guy found it right away.”

After the meeting, I paid a visit to Allison Margolin, who calls herself “L.A.’s dopest attorney.” Her trade is a sort of family business—her father, the lawyer Bruce Margolin, is the author of the Margolin Guide, which enumerates the legal penalties for the sale and possession of pot in each of the fifty states. She works in a black-glass office tower on Wilshire Boulevard owned by Larry Flynt, the publisher of Hustler. On the walls in her office, a Harvard Law School degree is juxtaposed with a pictorial layout from the magazine Skunk, featuring her in a low-cut leopard-print dress. Margolin’s sexpot image is an advantage with clients, who, more often than not, are socially isolated men. Margolin has a reputation for getting cases dismissed, and for retrieving marijuana plants that have been seized by the police.

“The truth is, it’s very rare to get plants back,” Margolin said. Her long auburn hair was in a tidy French bun, but a few strands had been allowed to slip loose. Like many of her clients, she adopted a tone of adolescent vulnerability and outraged innocence when talking about the mean grownups who don’t like pot. “People are talking about how it’s being over-recommended and abused,” she said. “I mean, big fucking deal. It’s not toxic!” I asked her if she had a doctor’s letter, and she nodded vigorously, explaining that she suffers from an anxiety disorder.

She said that courts are sometimes sympathetic to her arguments about the relative safety of pot, but most judges and prosecutors seem to have only a glancing acquaintance with the case law since the passage of Proposition 215. “I’ve gone to court, like, several times where the judge has read only the first half of the case, which talks about how dispensaries are not legal according to Proposition 215,” she said. “I think it’s just intellectual and physical laziness.”

A patient whose plants Margolin had recovered, Matt Farrell—known in the community as Medical Matt—stopped by for some counsel. Medical Matt was hardly an advertisement for the curative wonders of medical marijuana, or for the idea that all medical-marijuana patients are enjoying themselves by gaming the system. His cheeks and chin were covered in a three-day growth of dark stubble, and his red-rimmed eyes got wet as he spoke.

“I’ve always suffered from mental problems,” Farrell said, reciting a long list of prescription drugs that he had taken, including Paxil, Wellbutrin, Risperdal, and Prozac. He had obtained his first doctor’s letter for pot in late 2001 or early 2002—his memory wasn’t clear. He began growing pot to support his habit, which costs him between sixty and a hundred dollars a day.

In December, 2005, he said, police officers ransacked his house—seizing about a hundred and twenty plants and nine grow lights—even though he showed his doctor’s letter, and contended that the plants were for his own use and the use of the members of the collective to which he belonged. He was accused of unlawfully cultivating marijuana; the charge was dismissed in 2006. The police came back to his house in 2007, he said, once again trashing the premises and charging him with the unlawful cultivation of marijuana and the possession of marijuana for sale. They froze his bank account, which, he said, destroyed his credit rating. The second case against him is still pending.

Although the police behavior he described may seem excessive, it is usually forgiven by judges who try to balance the competing demands of state and federal law. By routinely looking the other way when law-enforcement officers make “mistakes,” the courts have allowed police departments that don’t like current state law to work around it, and put pressure on people like Farrell.

In the wake of the seizures and the property damage, Farrell said, he was borrowing money from his parents, and his house was going into foreclosure. “It’s either a joke or I’m delirious,” he said, starting to cry. “I mean, I’m not the smartest person in the world, but I sure as hell can read something pretty simple and understand it. If the state, county, city council, and everybody else is saying you can, how the hell does the L.A.P.D. come in to say you can’t?” Spokesmen and officers of the D.E.A. and the L.A.P.D. told me, off the record, that the federal laws regulating the possession and distribution of marijuana took precedence over the laws of the State of California, and that, until federal law changed, the D.E.A. and the L.A.P.D. would continue to work together in their fight against the drug trade.

Sitting beneath a willow tree on a breezy day in Sonoma County, you can see why the idea of leaving the city behind and growing your own weed exerts such a pull on the holistic health nuts, masseurs, d.j.s, art-school dropouts, and New Age types who populate the medical-marijuana scene in Los Angeles. Farming a crop of twenty-five or thirty plants of killer weed is an updated (and highly profitable) version of the age-old California dream of an orange tree in every back yard. For those who can’t afford to pay for a prime plot of land in Humboldt, there is the possibility of renting a small split-level house in Sonoma or Mendocino and converting the master bedroom into a grow room, where you can turn around an indoor crop every sixty days.

Captain Blue and I took a five-day excursion to the growing fields up North. Our guide was an old friend of his, a woman who called herself the Kid. She had been minding a grow house in Sonoma since being laid up with a half-dozen broken ribs after a bad motorcycle accident. The Kid had large eyes, a big nose, and long hair, and a squat, powerful body covered in black-ink tattoos, which ran across her chest and arms and up the back of her neck. “There’s a lot of women in the bud scene that are just looking to be with some guy that has some property and some plants, so that they can sit on their ass and do nothing,” she said, as we sat outside on her porch and watched horses graze. “There is a large percentage of really fabulous beauties. And then there’s the hard, serious worker girls that dig holes all day.”

Blue wiped the sweat from his forehead with the sleeve of his loose plaid shirt. He wasn’t used to being outside. He asked for a glass of water and drank it in a single gulp. Then he wrapped his arms around his friend and gave her a hug, taking care not to put pressure on her ribs. They made for a weird, medieval-looking couple; both had long hair, round bodies, and shoulders strong enough to chop wood. Both had spent years smoking pot and consuming staggering quantities of mushrooms, cactus powders, LSD, and other mind-altering substances.

The Kid made her bed by the picture window in the living room, next to a plaster Buddha and a shelf of books about plants, including “Marijuana Horticulture,” by Jorge Cervantes. The dining room was occupied by a pool table. If you are selling your own product, she explained, you can clear as much as seventy-five thousand dollars, after expenses, on a duffelbag filled with thirty pounds of pot. The easiest way to make this kind of small indoor scene work is to live in someone else’s house and nurture the plants in exchange for a third or half the profits, and that is how the Kid would be spending her time for the next two months.

The Kid’s plants, all Sour Diesels, were being raised on a mixture of nutrients which changed every three to five days, in accordance with a detailed regimen that had been laid out, in black Magic Marker, in a battered spiral-bound notebook. The notebook had been bequeathed to the Kid by a longtime friend. The cost of the nutrients was approximately six hundred dollars a week.

We entered the darkened bedroom, and were confronted by the fetid smell of plant life. Without the ventilation system that the Kid had installed, the temperature would have been about a hundred and ten degrees in the dark, largely from the stored-up heat of the lights—seven of them, a thousand watts each. There was a tank of carbon dioxide in the corner. “The more CO2, the thicker the bud,” the Kid explained.

It was a relatively small operation: the lights and their installation had cost about fifteen thousand dollars, and power and nutrients had cost an additional twelve thousand or so. The array of nutrients along the walls included specialized growing products such as Bud Blood (“promotes larger, heavier & denser flowers and fruit”) and Rizotonic (a powerful root stimulant). “Voodoo Juice is going to go in here, and Scorpion, and it goes on and on,” the Kid said. Every three or four days, she ran purified water through her hydroponic growing medium for a full day, in order to give the plants a break. After the full, eight-week growth cycle, the Kid planned to harvest her crop and clear out.

Up North, the marijuana harvest is known as “trimming season.” In Humboldt and Mendocino, she said, October is a month-long sleepover, with all the free ganja, beer, and organic food you want. A really good trimmer can trim two pounds of pot a day, at a rate of two hundred and fifty dollars per pound, while sitting around a table with three or four friends. Kids from San Francisco or even Australia hear about the harvest from friends of friends and show up for the pot and the cash. The D.E.A. routinely busts a few big scenes each year, and the local police have been known to stop cars and check the passengers for telltale scratches on their arms or sticky resin under their fingernails.

None of this intimidated the Kid. “It’s a fucking blast,” she said. “This is crop No. 6 for me this year.” After a month of being cooped up, she was eager to get on the road. I agreed to drive, because her license had been suspended since the motorcycle accident. Along the way, she recounted a transformative experience that she had had at the age of nineteen with the psychedelic drug DMT. While tripping, she had a vision of herself lying down on a forest floor. She heard a growling sound and saw a twenty-foot-tall woman guarded by a gigantic dog. “She was enormous, and definitely not attractive, and I recognized the look in her eye,” the Kid remembered. “I said, ‘Oh, my God, that’s me.’ And she said, ‘Yep, I am you. But I’m very old. My energy is very big.’ I was kind of in shock, but I didn’t feel threatened.” The old woman explained that the Kid didn’t need to worry about death anymore. There was no such thing as death, in fact. Energy returned to its source and then took another form.

The Kid fell silent for a moment. “I only saw her that one time,” she said. Afterward, she recalled, she felt a bit woozy, and a friend sat her in front of the television and let her watch cartoons.

The Kid, Blue, and I arrived in Arcata, a small, well-kept Northern town, around dusk. After dinner, we drove to a farm owned by a couple whom I’ll call Nick and Danielle. Nick, who had long brown hair and Mediterranean features, and Danielle, a yoga-toned blonde, had both worked as massage therapists in Malibu. One day, a massage client of Nick’s asked him about dispensaries, and he took her to one. “She saw people spending two thousand dollars at the counter,” Nick said, with a laugh. “She said, ‘What kind of business is this?’ ” Her next reaction was to suggest that Nick and Danielle could run a dispensary, and that she could front them the fifty thousand dollars they would need to get started. They soon opened one, and, after the business took off, they bought the property up North.

Nick and Danielle’s farm was at the end of a long, well-protected valley surrounded by high mountains. The turnoff was a dirt path barred by a classic old wooden ranch gate featuring the longest string of Tibetan prayer flags I saw during my stay in California.

Arriving at the house, we dumped our bags on a wooden deck. Nick, who was dressed in jeans and a sweaty T-shirt, showed us around the property. He was already a skilled grower: last year, he told me, he won second place in the Los Angeles Cannabis Cup, an annual competition, for a particularly potent strain of marijuana that he had grown from seeds he ordered through the mail from Amsterdam. But he did not consider pot his life’s calling. He spoke of one day starting up a healing center on Mt. Shasta, where people could clean out their systems and go hiking.

The property lacked sufficient water for pot growing, Nick said, but their neighbor up the mountain helped them out. “He’s a great bro,” he said. “Every few days, he drops two thousand gallons down a pipe.” In exchange, Nick paid the neighbor a minimal fee. “He’s an older guy, he’s been up here for forty years. He knows how hard it can be when you first move somewhere.” Nick had about three hundred plants in the ground on a hill behind his house. On another plot of land, a few hills over, he had two hundred and fifty plants, as insurance against a targeted raid on his property.

A perfect half-moon was shining brightly in the twilight. The North Star was already visible. Nick, Danielle, and some friends had gathered in the living room, whose focal point was a large homemade altar, for meditation, surrounded by burning tea candles. At the kitchen table, a friend of Nick’s, Charlie, packed a large water pipe with the smoke of the day. Next to Charlie was Nick’s friend Dylan Fenster, from Venice, who was spending a few months up North to help with the harvest. He said that he smoked marijuana primarily to deal with the pain from a degenerative spinal condition; he carried his doctor’s letter in his back pocket. “Twice in the last six months, I’ve been cited for smoking in public,” he told me. “Both times I got the weed back, and both times the judge admonished the cops, ‘You know, this is legal.’ ”

On the fridge, someone had posted a handwritten sign with the motto “Today is the day we manifest heaven on earth and godly bliss.” Water pipes were passed around, and everyone got high. After four hits on Nick’s bong, the slogans on the refrigerator started to vibrate with uncommon significance. I looked over at Blue and saw that he was dozing off again, this time with a homemade bong resting on his chest.

“I always wanted to heal the world or find the cure for cancer,” Nick told me, with a faith-healer stare. “I have massaged over ten thousand people, and I hope to massage ten thousand more, and to heal the world with good medicine that I can grow here and provide on a compassionate basis to the people who need it.”

Danielle started talking with the Kid about her wedding. “It was three days,” she said. The wedding was held in a clearing in a forest, and a cigar box was passed around containing two hundred hand-rolled joints of Kush.

I headed out to a swinging bench on the porch and gazed intently at dozens of bright stars, and thousands of lesser stars. Nick came outside and offered another hit. “I love it here,” he said. “I love the earth and the sounds and the smells and the sounds at night.” The farm’s location at the tip of the valley was particularly sweet. “There are no cars driving by and no planes flying over and no sirens going off or any kind of negative frequencies,” he said. “It almost feels like it must have felt for the original pioneers who were first exploring California.”

Every morning, Nick said, he woke up at seven, had a smoothie, and got in tune with nature. “Then I’ll head out to the garden and I’ll do some watering,” Nick continued. “Depending on the day of the week, I’ll maybe feed the plants, check in with them. Double-check for damage from the deer and whatever else has been creeping in through the cracks. Make sure the praying mantises are on duty.” Growing marijuana outdoors, he felt, emphasized the holistic qualities of the plant rather than its psychotropic function. Someday, he said, he wanted to plant cherry trees, and peaches, plums, and apricots.

Nick said that he hoped to have kids, and he liked the idea of raising children on a farm. When I asked him whether he worried about the atmosphere of danger and illegality that came with operating a gray-area business, he shook his head. “I really feel like my karma’s good,” he said. “I’m not doing anything wrong.” He owned the dispensary for which his crop was intended. He had never been arrested or done time in jail. “We’ve got a good lawyer, and we pay state sales tax,” he said.

Nick’s income from the dispensary last year, he said, was only around fifty thousand dollars. “That’s what I make for all the scary shit I do,” he said, looking up at the constellations. “I’m not making millions of dollars. I’m a hardworking, compassionate person, and I spend my time helping people. It makes me feel happy to bring smiles to the faces of people that have frequented my collective.”

The next morning, I woke up on the floor of Nick and Danielle’s living room, a ceiling fan whirring stale air above my head. There were three other people asleep in the room. As my head cleared, I perused a nearby bookshelf, which contained various speculative and esoteric texts, including “The Dead Sea Scrolls and the Christian Myth,” “Secrets of Shamanism,” and “Crop Circles: Signs of Contact.”

I wandered outside. Behind the building were two long greenhouses made of translucent plastic sheeting supported by bent steel ribs, which sheltered smaller plants until they were ready to be put in the ground. I ran into Nick, who was already at work, and he led me on a tour of the slopes at the back of his property. “I planted these at the end of May,” he said. “They’re three months old.” Outdoors, the sativa growth cycle is eleven weeks; the indica cycle is seven to nine. Toward the end of the cycle, the flowering plant loses its lush green leaves and manifests a shrivelled brown bud. “This is Afghooey crossed with Maui Wowie,” Nick said, pointing to a six-foot plant with half its leaves missing. So far, he said with equanimity, he had lost about a quarter of his crop—more than a hundred thousand dollars’ worth—to nibbling deer.

The three hundred or so plants on this part of the mountain were arranged in a V shape. The arms of the V ascended the mountain and spread out beneath the shelter of the surrounding forest. Nick admitted that the plants were not particularly well hidden, and said that the planting formation was mainly a respectful tip of the hat to the D.E.A. planes that flew over the valley. “They appreciate it when you’re not growing it in rows, like a cornfield,” he explained. Small planes had been buzzing overhead lately. Last night, one of Nick’s visiting friends had reported that a helicopter had canvassed the property and shone a light down onto the front porch. The friend admitted to having been stoned when he saw the searchlight.

Virtually everyone in the valley made a living from growing pot, Nick said. The signs of their activity were hard to miss. To illustrate his point, he indicated to the top of a mountain across the way. “It’s quite expensive to put electrical poles up a mountain,” he said. As I followed his gaze, I caught sight of what looked like a sail. “You’re looking at greenhouses,” he explained.

With so much pot on the market in California, it paid to differentiate your crop. Later that day, Nick and Danielle’s investor from Malibu arrived with a lawyer, who was there to inspect the farm’s organic-farming methods. If the farm passed, the pot would be certified as an organic product. The lawyer was a tall, fit-looking middle-aged man from San Francisco who wore a gray suit and a white starched shirt with no tie. He declined to be interviewed about his business.

Captain Blue spent the day outside, roaming the property and taking photographs with a digital S.L.R. camera. He took pictures of Nick’s friends working the pot fields and tending to the mature mother plants. And he took closeups of the enormous brown buds on a fifteen-foot-high pot plant. The physical exertion was hard for Blue. Beads of sweat collected on his forehead, and his shirt was soon soaking wet.

Blue handed me his camera, and I clicked through his photographs. I had told Blue many times that if he were slightly more motivated he could probably have a career as a photographer. My motherly attempts to lure Blue away from a life centered on pot had created a certain degree of tension in our friendship, even though he claimed not to mind. The truth was that Blue’s life had never been better. He was making money. People depended on him. He was a respected member of his community. He treated the people in his life—growers, suppliers, patients, customers—in a considerate fashion. He had even figured out a way to keep his marijuana business within the letter of California state law.

But it is hard to argue that what Blue does for a living is the kind of activity that California’s medical-marijuana laws were designed to protect. Though he is not a dangerous criminal, he is not exactly a hospice worker, either. He is a gray-area entrepreneur, working the seams of a hidden economy, populated by tens of thousands of people whose lives and minds and bank accounts it has altered forever, even as the rest of the country is only beginning to realize that it exists.

After leaving Nick’s farm, Blue, the Kid, and I stopped at a diner in Redway to get a slice of blackberry pie. While we ate, I watched a long-haired teen-ager guide her stoned father to their car. His hair was gray, and longer than hers, and when he stepped off the curb and started to amble toward a black BMW she grabbed his arm. “Dad, this is not your car,” she said sweetly. “Your car is over there.”

Humboldt’s economy is so heavily dependent on cannabis cultivation that you can drive for miles on well-kept highways and back roads without discovering a single legitimate source of income, aside from honey stands. Heading north, we eventually entered a maze of logging roads on a private reserve. A bunch of hippies grew pot in the forest, and the local cops stayed away.

Our destination was a house occupied by a woman who identified herself as Emily. A wiry marijuana sharecropper who also works as an environmental activist, she was busy watering her plants. There were twenty-five plants in all, surrounded by a fence on which hung a laminated patient’s letter, signed by Ken Miller, M.D., stating that the marijuana was intended for medical purposes. Because marijuana is a fungible commodity, like soybeans or rice, there is no way to tell the difference between marijuana that winds up going to patients and marijuana that winds up on the street. The doctor’s letter was, therefore, halfway between a legal document and a good-luck charm. Tibetan prayer flags fluttered along the length of the fence.

Emily was thin, with curly hair, and had a solitary, independent air; she’d been living alone for five months. She wore a gray T-shirt advertising a club called the Boom-Boom Room, in Cambodia. Her hands were covered with homemade tattoos of the kind that skater kids draw on each other.

The Kid and Emily were old friends, and they quickly launched into the technical details of Emily’s growing regimen. “It’s a three-day flip with Penetrator and a carbo load,” Emily said, and then I lost them.

After Emily finished her watering, we hiked over the mountain to a patch of twenty plants, where she went through the same routine. We sat on a couch that someone had carried up the mountain, and looked down on the verdant valley below as Emily described her growing arrangements. The house where we first met was owned by a man in his fifties, Emily said, who lived on the peak of the next mountain over. In addition to the two parcels of land that Emily tended, her host had half a dozen other plots in and around the reserve, which were worked by other sharecroppers. By taking care to stay under the local limit of ninety-nine plants on each of his properties, Emily’s host had averted most of the risk inherent in his profession while enjoying an income large enough to finance a laid-back life of self-exploration. He also donated considerable funds to environmentally friendly social-action projects in Central America and South America.

Emily had come to Humboldt ten years ago as a young activist, working to save old-growth redwoods. She first encountered marijuana plants after she picked some edible mushrooms on a friend’s land, cooked them up in marijuana-laced butter, and ate a good meal with some wine. That evening, her friend went outside briefly and returned with three huge plants over his shoulder. He taught Emily and some other activists how to trim the plants, separating the buds from the leaves over a framed screen with a sheet of glass underneath, to catch loose trichomes.

Emily decided to stay in the mountains. She loved the odd mixture of people who lived in a place with no apparent cash economy: the old lesbian couples who made jam and grew pot, the acupuncturists with connections to the San Francisco drag-queen scene, the old hippie ladies whose grower husbands had left them years ago and who toughed it out on the land they got in the divorce. Gazing at the setting sun, Emily said, “I think a lot of those people were drawn up here for intuitive reasons—soul reasons, or whatever.” The problem with growing pot back then, she said, was that it was illegal, and that changed you. “You had to carry a gun and be scared of people, and you lost track of the reason you came up here.”

Before the legalization of medical marijuana, she said, the wholesale price of good weed was forty-eight hundred dollars a pound. Now it was between twenty-two and twenty-six hundred. That was still profitable, though, and there were fewer stories in the newspapers about people being bound and gagged by cash-hungry gangsters.

The one thing that hadn’t changed was the Humboldt Slide. “You start at this really great percentage, and you’re buddy-buddy and everything’s great,” Emily said. As the harvest approaches, growers inevitably begin to run out of money and get greedy, and the sharecroppers lose whatever leverage they had earlier in the growing cycle, when their daily attention was necessary for the young plants to survive. Emily’s wage the previous year was initially set at a third of the value of the plants that she harvested. Later, her boss “slid” her percentage to a sixth, meaning that she owned only a dozen of the eighty plants that she grew that season. Emily’s philosophical approach to her losses is psychologically necessary for surviving in a gray-area business, where there are no signed contracts and recourse to the police or the courts is impossible, even in Humboldt. (“Officer, this man had me growing marijuana on his land for five months, and now he’s only giving me twelve plants!”)

Providing that the weather and the authorities coöperated, Emily expected to end up with approximately twenty pounds of pot. She would dispose of it in whatever manner brought her the most money; she thought it could fetch as much as fifty thousand dollars.

“There’s a bunny!” she cried out as a tiny brown rabbit scampered through her marijuana plants. “Oh, he’s cute!” Being around plants made her happy, she said. She’d be even more excited to grow something else, if it paid decently. Growing pot required a careful rhythm between periods of benign neglect and periods of close, loving attention. She noted that all her marijuana plants were females. “They’re ladies, right?” she joked. “So how do ladies like to be treated? They like to be given lots of attention and then left the fuck alone for a few days to revel in it. If you hang on to them all the time, they’re not going to do anything for you.”

That morning, Emily said, she had spent four hours on eight plants, plucking the thickest leaves in order to channel more energy to the buds. She had fertilized the soil with a mixture of bat and seabird guano. (Humboldt supermarkets sell the blend for nineteen dollars a gallon.) Her arms had become dark and sinewy from her labor.

Back at Emily’s borrowed house, we got high on her private stash and settled in for the night. The living room was decorated with save-the-rain-forest posters and a fake-leather gray couch. On the table was a boom box, a Mason jar of marijuana, and a Mac PowerBook. There was no television set; the radio was tuned to NPR. Emily was reading William Morris and working on a half-finished jigsaw puzzle of a Brazil nut, which she had bought at the thrift store for a dollar. Puzzles were popular during growing season, she said. That’s what being a grower in Humboldt County is like, she said. You do jigsaw puzzles at night, get high, and shit in the woods.

For Emily, that was enough. “It’s fuuun! It’s super-fun,” she said the next morning, lazily sunning herself on top of the mountain and smoking a spliff. “We’re gonna smoke it to the Man, you know?” Twenty years ago, people like Emily would have been too soft for the pot business in Humboldt County. The statewide legalization of medical marijuana has allowed for the illusion that farming pot can provide opportunities for travel and cool art projects and personal growth without any corresponding commitment to the perils of a life of crime. Medical marijuana has made it easy for people like Emily, the Kid, and Captain Blue to see growing pot as a casual life-style choice. By going into the pot business, Emily had made the kind of compromise with reality that idealistic people often make when they get older and lose faith in their ability to effect wholesale change, and when they need the money.

Growing ganja lets you feel that you’re still living on the edge, especially when you’ve become a little complacent politically. Emily nodded, and took another puff. “The forest is still getting cut down or whatever,” she said, watching the fragrant smoke swirl in the breeze. “But you’re still working out here. You’re still subverting the Man. And you’re getting people high.”

[MsTerry]

Zeno
Are you trying to sell a course in speed (no pun intended) reading?

[Zeno Swijtink]

Zeno
Are you trying to sell a course in speed (no pun intended) reading?



An interesting article in the Atlantic this month asking the question whether reading on the Internet makes us read differently, and ultimately makes us think in a different way.


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