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Feminist Cannabis Farming In Maine

This is Maine.

The Dandy Sarah Farm

by Sarah G.

This is Maine. I am used to this scene. Here, there are the usual things you see at a cannabis gathering. Tables with vendors, glassy eyes, flat brims, glass art, and the haze. The air is a heavy heady blue from the expelled vapors of concentrated cannabis extracts and the sound of butane torches hissing punctuates the music with an asymmetric rhythm. Click, Click, Click hiss. No one can dab along with the refrain. But, this time, in this space I made a change. I brought old healers and drums. We are coming back.

Medical marijuana is an industry, with conventions, events, and a lot of cash flow. When you attend cannabis events there are light set ups, meters for everything you could measure, soil amendments, and a lot of men. A lot. This is a modern condition. If you sit for a second with any cannabis enthusiast you know that medical marijuana is old. But the real medicine, the old medicine, is not being administered. The old healers are not the hustling, bustling, click click click hiss guys I have been sitting with these last few years. The old healers looked like me. They were magic. They felt the medicine intensely, like they felt the world, and that is how ailments were treated, and wars were started. Shamanic medicine is performed for the sick for healing and the warriors for fighting. There’s no click click click hiss with the old healers. There’s the old drumming refrains, that have been passed down. The old drumming language doom doom tek brings the beat back. [Doom and tek are the two main sounds of drumming: Doom is the deep resonant sound of hitting the center of the drum and the tek is the staccato tap of the outside edge. It’s drumming language so it is kind of code.]

I’ve been in the industry a short time. I am coming into my third season of a perpetual grow operation, so that is three outdoor harvests. I have a large commercial greenhouse for growing in the warm seasons, and two indoor rooms – one for vegetative state plants and the other for flowering plants. Maine law allows caregivers five patients and thirty adult plants. My husband just became a caregiver this year so our farm usually has sixty adult plants. My husband is the face of our farm. I didn’t ever want to attend events or social groups. I started out growing wanting to sit with my patients and no one else. My first cannabis event was Harry’s Green Love Festival two summers ago, up in Starks, Maine. I am grateful for my husband’s wisdom in showing me cannabis culture first through the lens of Harry Brown’s farm. It was an open and excepting space. Free love was about, but so was consent, and respect. I saw there the Sativa Sisters with their cannabis salves, The Barefoot Truth Dancers women freestyle belly dancers, and the Blue Haired Vagina Lady is the master of ceremonies on the hill. All those women were doing their work, not just standing alongside their male partners. I had peers, but there was still surprise when my husband told people I was a caregiver and he was the patient. Even on the hill, with the hillcats – Harry’s loyal festival attendees, away from the pharmaceuticals and those white-frocked pushers, there was still the click click click hiss of the modern marijuana hustle. And it was still off beat.

I have been to other events, where I was not allowed into sections where seeds were being sold, because I am a grower not a patient. “My family has been working on this soil for five generations!” The man was weaving back and forth slurring. My daughter and I were pitched at last year’s Emerald Cup, at ten o’clock in the morning, by the most drunken bro I had ever encountered. I used to work security at a sports bar. He was standing directly in our path as we were walking through the vending spaces for non-patients. We both did what women do when confronted with what may be a threat, in a space where we are not sure if we are safe. I payed him attention, arched my neck in feigned interest. My daughter nodded and smiled. I asked follow up questions while stepping forward, putting my body between him and my daughter, and used my space to herd him back to his table.

Intoxication is not medicine, it’s not safe, it’s for inflating bravery and fighting a war. I do not want to make war with my medicine. I think the only reason the vendor tried to sell to us was his inebriation, because my experience at most vendors tables is that they are not trying to sell me their light set ups, soil amendments, growing supplies. They offer me trinkets, necklaces, t-shirts and devices to make cleaning up after a grower easier. There is no reason for the way the industry treats women. It’s hippy love that their are slinging, so we should not feel threatened or disempowered. Fuck, they always miss the beat.

I work hard to promote marijuana as medicine. At the small town meetings I go to there is always a man talking. Not well, but with enough authority to hold attention, the room, space. “Cannabis put my Crohn’s disease into recession. It is not heroine. Children with epilepsy are decreasing their seizures from 200 a day to none. Those kids have a life – they are going to school.” People have concerns, the concerned citizens have questions, and not all the answers may come from the guy in the room who has been growing the longest. Here in Maine growers are your neighbor that you did not know had lights on in his cellar, attic, or shed. And patients are old folks that you wave to from your dooryard. You knock on their door when you can’t find your cat. But you still would not know they are treating their cancer, a back injury, chronic mental illness. The concerned citizens are asking about safety and preserving our way of life. The oldest grower in town, the man talking, is singing the cannabis allelujah chorus, but he can’t find the refrain. He’s not got any rhythm. He’s busy with the click click click hiss and misses the balance of the doom tek, and the room can feel it. They are asking to feel safe.

When I talk of marijuana as medicine, I do not forget the old healing. The place where the barefoot truth comes from. If you go visit the Ayahuasca healers still practicing old medicine in the jungle of Peru, they will tell you that medicine is for healing, but it is also for war. Modern people, like Lindsay Lohan, go to the jungle to cure their ennui. It works, but people die there. Kyle Joseph Nolan did. Any medicine can heal, we remember, but it can harm as well. And that we like to forget. Medicine in the wrong body destroys the body. Medicine in the wrong community destroys the community. The citizens’ concerns are valid. They are not calmed by the effectiveness proven by case studies. They are talking about our community, and how it may change if medical marijuana becomes recreational. They can hear the beat of an old drum. People are coming from away, California, Colorado, Oregon, and they want to practice old medicine in their new way. Yes no one has died taking cannabis, but their communities changed. The small town Mainers can hear the dissonance, every missed beat, in the allelujah chorus.

There was a vacuum of knowledge back when the Hearst Company saw hemp as a threat to their paper empire. The rhetoric of cannabis prohibition was compounded by the propaganda from modern medicine that was pushing the traditional healer out of the family and replacing it with a doctor that you saw in the hospital. Hearst and the AMA were not the catalysts in the war against traditional healing they were the death knell. Before we became civilized the craziest crone was the woman you went to see for healing. Old women, who heard voices, felt the world and their patients’ place in it, were not nuts. They were sensitive and travelled the same roads her patients suffered along but felt the ailments and the harm more deeply. They were magic, shamanistic healers. We started burning those women when we left animist pagan worship for the church. Usually, those women were politically powerful, owned property, and their persecutions were aimed at taking that power and property away. That is when the the knowledge of healing got sucked into obscurity. When women asked for their power back, for the vote they were stuffed into asylums and force fed. A few decades ago restless women were just bored housewives hopped up on mommy’s helpers. Now we tell people like me that we have anxiety, depression, P.T.S.D. Cannabis can help us, and others like us. We have access to it again. We are coming back to cannabis. Women like me. I see us here dancing to the old beat doom doom tek.

[The women are from folklore but are documented in things like “the Crucible.” Joan of Arch is a good example of Christian mystical warrior type stuff. There is some documentation of magical healing like with the Hehe of East Africa, where the male chiefs are not as powerful as their majickal healing mothers, but to discuss those people and that history would take way more than 1000 words.]

Cannabis farming feminism is budding in Maine.
Cannabis farming feminism is budding in Maine.

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Marijuana Mnemonics

The Secret Grower speaks!
The Secret Grower speaks!
[The Secret Grower]

Cannabis Reviewer

Learing out to tell your weed the easy way

by CannabisReviewer.com

There’s this confusion some people have, a kind of cannabis dyslexia, perhaps, about what kind of weed is the type that will mellow you out and which will hype you up. Is Sativa the mellow out pot or is Indica what to smoke when you feel like chilling out at night? Is Indica the herb of choice for those afflicted with chronic shyness or what you smoke if you are the type that needs to be calm, cool, centered like a zen monk?

While those choices are better left up to you, dear reader, you and your medical cannabis specialist, if that’s the dilemma you’re in, I do have these instructive words passed to you through the paper you now hold, in the form a simple mnemonic, from the person we’ll refer to now as The Secret Grower. Although his true identity shall remain a mystery, he is pictured at right in his secret East County San Diego grow room, and this is what he says:

“Sativa are the tall plants, and they’ll hype you up. Indica are the short, thicker plants, and they’ll mellow you out. So just remember: tall – UP … short – Mellow.” ~ The Secret Grower

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Cannabis County, California

HumboldtCountyLine_350[Opinion]

Ever up Humboldt County way?

Northern Greens’ Price Bubble

by Kent Manthie

If you’re ever up Humboldt County way, say “high” for me. I sure do appreciate those hard-working pot-farmers up there in Humboldt (as well as Mendocino) County, CA, USA, where some of the world’s best marijuana comes from. It’s just too damn bad that it has to be SO damn expensive. I mean – on average, one pays $20 a gram for that stuff – even at the legal medical dispensaries in California.

Of all places – a dispensary that claims to be there to help those who are suffering badly from a range of diseases, including AIDS, cancer, asthma, glaucoma, even anorexia, as it helps the appetite, not to mention myriad other disorders, with which smoking the ganja can help, not just in appetite ways, but also by reducing stress, and as a substitute for the awful scourge of big pharma, who sell life saving meds in America for several times more than in other countries, including Canada, Mexico and in various African countries.

Their propagandists – usually some hot little babe who is spoon-fed info by those who have the brains to know what they’re talking about – say it’s because the stuff in America is so much better because it’s more highly regulated and so forth – well, if that’s true, than why the hell are they shipping sub-par drugs to other countries? Why because it’s good for biz and that’s really what the drug BUSINESS is all about first and foremost – that’s why the call it the “Drug Business” – but marijuana has no harmful side effects, is perfectly safe, has never, ever caused any deaths, has only had positive results (unless you count the lethargy that can come from getting too stoned – when that happens you just need to eat something and have a cup of coffee and then you’re back to normal and can still feel the effects of the weed – if it’s the great, sticky bright green seedless bomb).

So, it’s time to regulate pharmaceuticals much more tightly – at least in other countries – if I were the head of a country where they were shipping in sub-par drugs because it was cheaper, I would demand to be getting the same stuff that Americans get – and if every country in the world did that and refused to pay extortionate prices for them in tandem with US congressional oversight to the same effect, then I think you’d see a change – albeit slight, but change nonetheless. Still, though, pharma drugs of the same type will never take the place of organic, safe pot.

Now, of course, there are great and necessary drugs like antibiotics -which must be taken sparingly – not only when you have a cold – in which case they won’t do a damn thing because colds and flus are VIR– USES and antibiotics only kill BACTERIA – they don’t do a damn thing to stop viruses, so it’s not only a waste of time to take antibiotics for viruses but it will just end up building up, in your body, a resistance to them when you really need them. But luckily, stronger and stronger antibiotics are always being developed. But if stupid people would quit overtaking them right now, then we wouldn’t be creating resistances to them – unfortunately, also, cows are inundated w/antibiotics in order to make them “healthier” – and what does that do?

Well, when they’re slaughtered and we make steaks and hamburgers out of them, the a/b’s are still around and so we’re also ingesting antibiotics when we eat most meat (it’s not only cows but pigs, chickens, sheep, etc), so I’d recommend eating meat that has some proof or sign of not having any antibiotics or any strange growth hormones, etc, which meat eaters inevitably end up eating, see? That is why big pharma is so dangerous and out of control, yet they’re perfectly legal and huge business, whereas harmless marijuana is labeled as a “dangerous drug” – dangerous to whom? To the profits of the pharmaceutical companies and not to any humans or other living organisms!!! So just remember that. Smoke pot and eat drug (pharmaceutical drug)-free meat!

~km

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Closipine, Clonasipam, Colonodine & Medical Cannabis

[Legal Trends]

Rehabbing with Medical Cannabis

Yet Another San Diego Testimony About Why Pot Is Great

by Tynan Clark

Above: Cannabis sativa, in a drawing from Franz Eugen Köhler’s Medizinal-Pflantzen, published by Gera-Untermhaus, FE Köhler in 1887 (1883–1914). Image obtained from Wikipedia Commons.

There was a point where I wasn’t completely closed off to the idea that there may be something wrong with me psychologically. Enough people tell you throughout your life and you get a little suspicious. Now that I’m pushing thirty (in a few days) I feel like I have a little perspective on both my situation and these “people” that have been telling me things. You see, the people who work for adult probation/detention are trained in how to treat an adult like a child. Which obviously makes sense because in order to have dealings with them, you first have to break their rules. My story is about the abuse of this tactic and how it has effected my life beyond probation.

Four years ago, this one time, I was bored and shopping at Target so I decided to buy some cocaine to enhance my shopping experience. I made the call, received said package, and headed to the men’s room for a sniff. Now the way this went down is still debatable because I had not been in the stall 3-4 minutes when the police busted in, tasers drawn. It scared the shit out of me, cocaine went EVERYWHERE if you can picture that. I went straight to jail.

After two weeks in George Bailey Detention Facility (aka The Thunder Dome) I was released on prop. 36 which, if you don’t know, is California’s way to treat felony drug offenders with rehab instead of prison. It also provides applicable felons with a chance to expunge their record. Seeing as how you can go to prison for three years for a half gram of Coke, I’d say it’s a good program. I digress. Part of being on prop. 36 is being in an out patient program and graduating it.

They had me enroll in UCSD’s Gifford clinic which treats duel diagnosis patients, people with both psychological problems and drug addiction and compared to most out-patient facilities, is not that bad. Right off the bat they have you meet with a psychiatrist. I do not think I am alone in this but I sometimes feel anxious or depressed due to the constant emotional roller coaster that is life. That’s pretty normal I think. Well the psych told me that I should be on medication and prescribed me two types, one was for blood pressure I believe. Clonasipam and colonodine and that mix made me feel pretty rad. I Took these two for some time until I stopped taking the blood pressure stuff. The other one, clonasipam, needs a continuous increases in dosage to maintain effectiveness. Little did I know, this drug is Highly addictive and you cannot just stop taking it. To do so causes opiate-like withdrawal symptoms and what that means is that your sick, for a while. You can’t eat or sleep, your body hurts unbearably and you hallucinate a bit. Lots of cold sweats too.

I have been off probation for a good two years and was still taking this drug until currently when people I knew started noticing the difference in my personality that I did not realize. After being confronted, I made a plan to quit. First, I tried going to VOA (Volunteers of America) and was turned away but told to come back in a few days. When I went back, they once again turned me away saying that I needed a medical detox. I actually agree with this, I was just willing to kinda rough it out at that point. I did not know what to do to get off that shit so, I called my Grama. My Grama, the angle that she is, found me a spot to detox at her friend’s house in East County. These wonderful people let me stay for ten days so I could get through the rough part. The really cool thing about staying there was that everyone smoked LOTS of weed.

I used to be an avid weed head but quit for probation. While I was sick, I was taking various medications to deal with the symptoms. Nothing I had really helped. It was only when I smoked weed that I had any relief. In fact, I’d go as far to say that I don’t know if I would have made it without. Even being clean from that shit has been tough. My only remedy, weed. Every time I wanna use I just smoke and my higher consciousness gets the best of me.

Now, I’m not saying that everyone should smoke all of the time, but, marijuana has really helped me change my life. Well, that and Burners (people who go to Burning Man). But that’s a different story. Please support your local pot dealers and growers and thank you for hearing me out.

~T

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Cannabis and Recovery

…And Yet Another Testimony About Why Pot Is Great.

by Ty Clark

There was a point where I wasn’t completely closed off to the idea that there may be something wrong with me psychologically. Enough people tell you throughout your life and you get a little suspicious. Now that I’m pushing thirty (in a few days) I feel like I have a little perspective on both my situation and these “people” that have been telling me things. You see, the people who work for adult probation/detention are trained in how to treat an adult like a child. Which obviously makes sense because in order to have dealings with them, you first have to break their rules. My story is about the abuse of this tactic and how it has effected my life beyond probation.

Four years ago, this one time, I was bored and shopping at Target so I decided to buy some cocaine to enhance my shopping experience. I made the call, received said package, and headed to the men’s room for a sniff. Now the way this went down is still debatable because I had not been in the stall 3-4 minutes when the police busted in, tasers drawn. It scared the shit out of me, cocaine went EVERYWHERE if you can picture that. I went straight to jail.

After two weeks in George Baily (aka The Thunder Dome) I was released on prop. 36 which if you don’t know, is California’s way to treat felony drug offenders with rehab instead of prison. It also provides applicable felons with a chance to expunge their record. Seeing as how you can go to prison for three years for a half gram of Coke, I’d say it’s a good program. I digress. Part of being on prop. 36 is being in an out patient program and graduating it.

They had me enroll in U.C.S.D.’s Gifford clinic which treats duel diagnosis patients, people with both psychological problems and drug addiction and compared to most out-patient facilities, is not that bad. Right off the bat they have you meet with a psychiatrist. I do not think I am alone in this but I sometimes feel anxious or depressed due to the constant emotional roller coaster that is life. That’s pretty normal I think. Well the psych told me that I should be on medication and prescribed me two types, one was for blood pressure I believe. Clonasipam and colonodine and that mix made me feel pretty rad. I Took these two for some time until I stopped taking the blood pressure stuff. The other one, clonasipam, needs a continuous increases in dosage to maintain effectiveness. Little did I know, this drug is Highly addictive and you cannot just stop taking it. To do so causes opiate-like withdrawal symptoms and what that means is that your sick, for a while. You can’t eat or sleep, your body hurts unbearably and you hallucinate a bit. Lots of cold sweats too.

I have been off probation for a good two years and was still taking this drug until currently when people I knew started noticing the difference in my personality that I did not realize. After being confronted, I made a plan to quit. First, I tried going to VOA (Volunteers of America) and was turned away but told to come back in a few days. When I went back, they once again turned me away saying that I needed a medical detox. I actually agree with this, I was just willing to kinda rough it out at that point. I did not know what to do to get off that shit so, I called my Grama. My Grama, the angle that she is, found me a spot to detox at her friends house in East County. These wonderful people let me stay for ten days so I could get through the rough part. The really cool thing about staying there was that everyone smoked LOTS of weed.

I used to be an avid weed head but quit for probation. While I was sick, I was taking various medications to deal with the symptoms. Nothing I had really helped. It was only when I smoked weed that I had any relief. In fact, I’d go as far to say that I don’t know if I would have made it without. Even being clean from that shit has been tough. My only remedy, weed. Every time I wanna use I just smoke and my higher consciousness gets the best of me.

Now, I’m not sayin’ that everyone should smoke all of the time, but, marijuana has really helped me change my life. Well, that and Burners (people who go to Burning Man) but that’s a different story. Please support your local pot dealers and growers and thank you for hearing me out.

[Below, “Cannabis Sativa” as drawn by Koehler.]