It was Saturday night. Kinky Friedman was in Rio Duckworth, Texas, eating beans out of a can, Joni Mitchell had a headache, Michael Bloomfield was dead and I, Ratso Sloman, editorial director was alone. There was nobody left to call. Alone, with only my porno tapes for company.
Greyhound recently updated its list of "Rules and Regulations Effective immediately the following nine items are strictly verboten on the bus: Corpses Snakes, live Fuel tanks (used) Neon signs Animal heads Human blood (unless packed in wet ice) Worms, live (unless specially packed) Automobile windshields Bull semen (unless specially packed) We're sorry if this inconveniences any of you.
Back in July we were talking about conspiracies, about how they gave the government the equivalent of a legal A-bomb with which to blow defendants away. I didn't go into the RICO conspiracy then because, as I said, it's a story with a spine of its own.
It finally happened. Gourmet Mexican grass is making a comeback and not a moment too soon. Everybody knows that the quality of ordinary Colombian grass has sunk so low in the past five years that most of it is just not worth smoking unless you deliberately want to feel worse rather than better.
NO OFFICIAL ANNOUNCEment yet (though there may have been one by the time you read this), but it has become abundantly clear that the Reagan administration plans to divest the Drug Enforcement Administration of its freewheeling independence and place it under the jurisdiction of the FBI. That much was obvious when the Justice Department decided to remove DEA administrator Peter Bensinger a few months ago and make Francis (Bud) Mullen, the number-three man in the FBI, acting head of the drug agency.
THE PORTLAND, OREGON, Police Department has a brand-new narc squad, and everyone in this proud city is praying it will be a little less corrupt than the last gang of liars and thieves they hired to enforce drug laws here. The old Special Investigations Team's pattern of ruthlessness and greed was exposed in late Ma y when, in exchange for promises of immunity from prosecution, five crooked cops ratted on each other and themselves.
IT WAS MORE THAN THE SAUCY Calvin Klein bottom of Brooke Shields, with its implied affront to the Moral Majoritarians of the Reagan administration, that prompted the Health and Human Services (HSS) bureaucracy to try to keep the 16-year-old femme fatales antismoking commercials off TV last summer.
UNANSWERED QUESTIONS LINGER IN WAKE OF TEXAS DEATHS
WHEN PEOPLE GATHER TO party down anywhere in these United States, there's usually a lot of weed floating around. The Juneteenth celebration in Mexia is no exception. The black population from this part of the state converges here every year on June19 to commemorate that glorious day in 1865 when word of the Emancipation Proclamation first arrived in the Lone Star State, and they do their best to pitch a wangdang-doodle.
L I M A, P E R UI WITH HELP FROM THE United States, Peru has announced a campaign "to eradicate definitively" the manufacture and consumption of cocaine and followed the announcement with a series of highly publicized raids. Lt. Gen. Eduardo Ipinze Rebatta, director of the Policia de Investigaciones de Peru (PIP), this country's notorious secret police, made the announcement at a ceremony marking the arrival of seven vans and three cars, the latest U.S. donations to the cause wiping out the blow trade.
Customs officer Gil Payette inspects over 400 pounds of cocaine taken from a Cessna 320 that made an unscheduled stop at the New Hanover County Airport in the southeast corner of North Carolina. Observing with interest is Sheriff's Sgt. WC. Barefoot.
A TASK FORCE OF STATE, LOCAL AND FEDERAL NARCS NETTED THREE BOATS, INCLUDING a 47-foot "mother ship"; 17 people; nine vehicles and an undisclosed tonnage of weed with a police value of up to $5 million in the bust of an off-loading operation on Nantucket Sound.
AN ENTERPRISING POLLEN counter at the Tucson Clinic has publicly identified a significant number of the "unknowns" in his daily census of airborne organic particles as the pollen grains of Cannabis sativa, the most common variety of marijuana in the United States.
AFTER THREE TRIALS, smack kingpin Darrel "D.K." King has finally been convicted of first<degree murder for shooting a man he suspected of robbing his drug runners. It should have been an easy case. More than 20 persons were said to have been on the scene that day in July 1979 when King, reputed to be the boss of San Francisco’s biggest heroin ring, wheeled into the city's tough Western Addition in his pale blue Corvette and in broad daylight gunned down Ronald Butler Yet when King’s first murder trial was held in January of 1980, there were no witnesses to testify against him.
SAN JOSE, COSTA RICA LONGTIME RUMORS THAT marijuana production is in the process of expansion from Colombia into Central America were confirmed recently when Costa Rican police popped a pot farm near Puerto Viejo de Limon. Police chief Aldhen Vega told local reporters that the 13-acre farm was the largest so far discovered in the country He also said there were a number of similar farms in the same area, but the government was unable to launch a full-scale campaign against them be cause of a lack of narcotics funds and means.
THE ANNUAL LATE-SUMMER POT drought didn’t develop this year; as many observers of the market had predicted. Only two years ago, in the midst of the famine of ’79, dope journalists were saying the Colombian connection had broken down completely.
HIGH TIMES welcomes anonymous reports, but please be specific about the area, type, quantity and quality of dope referred to. If you are aware of other prices or have other relevant information or suggestions, please send them in. The THMQ is intended solely for comparative purposes and in no way is meant as an inducement to illegal activity, or as an endorsement of dope usage or trafficking, or as an endorsement of any particular dope.
Okay, D.B., here's the pitch. We do a remake of an old East Side Kids film, see, but with Sly Stallone as the Mugs McGinnis type, and we get some serious social-conscience director. Anyway, Sly plays a brilliant but unpredictable kid from Brooklyn—say, Canarsie—an outstanding student, Jesuit schools, close to his family stays out of trouble, not afraid of anyone.
THE OLD MAN LEANED CLOSE TO THE SMALL MIRROR, meticulously adjusted a few gray whiskers in his mustache, and brushed a renegade salt-andpepper hair from his forehead. Then he stepped back and stared dispassionately at the results. What he saw was a man on the far side of 60, an old man who looked more Spanish than Indian, more rich than poor more reserved than expressive.
It's Wednesday evening, a little after 7 P.M., and already all the good seats are gone. Cigar smoke and rough voices turn the air blue; laughter peals raucously from the rear of the building. A lot of money will change hands tonight, and God knows what will come after.
Autumn's here and the domestic marijuana harvest has begun. The major tasks of cultivation are nearly done. Attention turns to the question of when to harvest, an important decision for all growers, and then preparing the harvest by manicuring and drying.
This is Joe Strummer's laconic and deliberately oblique explanation of why he and the rest of the Clash prefer to write and play songs about ghettos, guerrillas, and Third World liberation fronts rather than follow the well-trodden trail of exhortations to boogie or party of rampant self-pity of abuse of ex-lovers that is the normal route for rock 'n roll lyrics.
Smoking freebase has a tremendously stimulating physical effect. The rush lasts only a short time, but it can be extremely exhilarating. You get a sensation of floating off on a wonderful cloud of euphoria, a feeling that rivals a hang-glider ride or a cruise in a sailplane.
When HIGH TIMES publisher Andy Kowl asked me to "do something' about the offices, he sounded urgent. Seems the trouble started when the magazine moved to spiffy new quarters uptown. Staffers took one look at the neat cubicles and whitewashed walls and decided the new digs didn't appeal to their frenetic tastes.
HEAVY METAL the mag. You know it. The Triumph of Art meets Triumph of the Will as EC/DC/Marvel paint their heavy message in the sky. Bondage comes to Utopia. Warlords of Ooba-Dooba versus the Screaming Skulls of Urea II. The visual analog-in-a-nutshell, perhaps, of what Michael Moorcock calls "authoritarian science fiction."
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PRETTY EYEFUL They look like punkedout flying saucers, but we finally figured out what to do with them. With spoon to dish out your favorite colored powder. Deering Pocket Container, $3.99 at retail outlets.
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QUICK DISPATCH Thanks Mom, we needed that. Hey, you should have seen what we sent her back. Next time wrath leaves you speechless, send an Insult-A-Gram, the verbal equivalent of a pie-kill. Insults to order are selected from a bank of 6,000 nasty phrases, printed on yellow sheets that look like telegrams, and mailed from New Jersey. You may choose to send them anonymously or not. Prices start at $3. Write for order forms. TSB Publications, P.O. Box 260, Englishtown, NJ 07726.
Police Chief Bud Studd shocked the Sandbag `Town Council out of their seats last night by pinpointing cocaine abuse as the cause of the savage new wave of vandalism that has afflicted our little burg. "It's theworkof deviant dope addicts driven out of their proper senses by the rising tide of cocaine which has exploded in our faces," Chief Studd charged.
Max Romeo, one of reggae's best singers and writers, recently released a groundbreaking record called Holding Out My Love to You (Shanachie Records, Dalebrook Park, Dept. R, HoHoKus, NJ 07423), a collaboration with Rolling Stone Keith Richard.
By the mid '70s it seemed that all the inroads blues made in the popular audience during the '60s had been wiped out. Many of the older players were dying off, and even such perennial greats as B.B. King were forced to alter their recording styles to accommodate the homogenizing demands of disco production.
FIYO ON THE BAYOU, Neville Brothers (A&M SP 4866). This has got to be one of the albums of the decade, the hottest single LP to come out of New Orleans in years, probably since Big Mac's famous Gumbo (the Dr. adds his keyboards here to "Brother John/ Iko Iko").