Luc Sante is the general editor of the Library of Larceny (Broadway Books). His books include Low Life and The Factory of Facts. ("Why Do You Think They Call It Dope?", page 26) "I've done a 360 since being in High Times in 1974—20 years in prison and then CBC National Radio.
In the early 1970s, before the advent of High Times, I was living on a horse farm in Maine, supporting my writing habit by smuggling pot, when Rolling Stone assigned me to do a story on Rochdale College in Toronto. Rochdale had been conceived as an educational experiment, an open university located in a downtown Toronto high-rise, but had quickly morphed into the most concentrated soft-drug distribution center in North America.
David Katz's article, "How to Talk to Your Kids About Pot" (July/Aug. '04 HT), captured the dilemma experienced not only by baby-boomer parents who still smoke, but by those who have quit. I particularly appreciated the way Katz integrated the personal and the political, managing to be simultaneously serious and humorous.
High Times Dealer's Choice model Yvette wearing a luscious sweater called Nancy, from KanaBeach. It's made from a blend of 58% hemp, 37% acrylic and 7% spandex. Kanabeach is a lifestyle brand from France that makes a biologic hemp line twice a year, with fashionable items for both sexes.
Welcome to Broadway Book's Library of Larceny, a world of charismatic criminals, a rogue's gallery of classic books about (and sometimes by) hustlers, scamsters, con artists and thieves. The books include the classic The Telephone Booth Indian by the legendary A.J. Liebling, (about "businessman" shysters that would set up their office in a phone booth—God help you if you tried to make a call from one during "office hours"), two memoirs: one from bank robber Willie Sutton, (Where the Money Was) and the other from master swindler J.R. "Yellow Kid" Weil, (Con Man: A Master Swindler's Own Story) who some say was the king of all con artists.
Healthy Highways: The Traveler's Guide to Healthy Eating
Never again will you be a slave to greasy fast food on the road. This book is literally a map and a guide, state by state, road by road, on how to find that tofu-burger stand or wheatgrass joint hidden just out of sight beyond those golden arches.
We all know by now there is no such thing as fair reporting, but the guys that brought you the Guerrilla News Network have an antidote for you: True Lies (Plume/Penquin) offers a range of under-reported, censored and blacklisted news stories, and tells you why you haven't heard about them on the mainstream news.
No Surrender: Writings from an anti-imperialist political prisoner
David Gilbert is a man who embraces an extraordinary stretch of history. Radicalized in the '60s, Gilbert, who started the Vietnam Committee at Columbia University in 1965, was a founding member of SDS (Students for a Democratic Society), and then went subterranean and joined the Weather Underground.
News of the first Beastie Boys album in six years gave fans cause to wonder what new creative wrinkle MCA, Ad-Rock and Mike D could come up with this time around. In a career spanning more than 20 years, they haven't been the most prolific album makers.
A giant of American literature, the late Terry Southern blended first-rate storytelling, boho cool, outrageous humor and forthright sexuality to produce some of the most enduring novels (The Magic Christian, Blue Movie), screenplays (Dr. Strangelove, Easy Rider) and short-story collections (Red-Dirt Marijuana and Other Tastes) of the 20th century.
The first to stray from Staten Island's legendary Wu-Tang Clan, Method Man has a strong independent streak. His Wu-Tang super-star status eventually led to solo efforts like Tical, Tical 2000: Judgement Day and a duo with Redman, Blackout!
CAN'T FIND MY WAY HOME: AMERICA IN THE GREAT STONED AGE, 1945-2000
In addition to offering a sometimes painful account of his own poly-drug use in Can't Find My Way Home (Simon & Schuster), Martin Torgoff chronicles the evolution of drugs in America and our society's mutable attitudes toward those who just said yes in the second half of the 20th century.
I was not alive 30 years ago, when High Times was conceived. In fact, I wasn't even a gleam in my father's eye. "The whole idea of bringing kids into the world frightened me," he admitted. He spent the greater part of 1974 playing guitar, smoking pot and watching the Watergate hearings.
has reported on America's endless Drug War. It was endless in 1974, and it's no less endless today. That's why—from paraquat to the present—our reporters have turned over every stone to uncover the truth about a war run on lies. Why do otherwise intelligent people lose all ability to reason when the subject turns to drugs (particularly those who are not partaking)?
AMIGULA INC. SELLS MARIJUANA (STOCK) OVER THE COUNTER
Entrepreneur Warren Eugene took a major gamble in 1995 when he unveiled casino.org, the world's first online casino. Today he's upping the ante with a plan to capitalize should Canada undertake an overhaul of its marijuana laws. And while there's no guarantee that will happen in the near future, Eugene's also betting that once the laws do change, Amigula Inc., the company he incorporated in October 2003, will be able to secure the licenses necessary to grow and distribute cannabis on a national level—in essence, to become the Philip Morris of marijuana.
CANNABIS MINISTRY TAKES ON ATTORNEY GENERAL JOHN ASHCROFT
Want a "get out of jail free" card with no higher authorities than God, the Bible, the Constitution and Jesus to back you in court? Call the THC Ministry and register your religious right to grow and smoke pot. All you need do is genuflect before you toke.
Where were you Wednesday, June 16? High Times was at the Coral Room in NYC celebrating the Second Annual Tupac Amaru Shakur Birthday Bash—a benefit concert dedicated to the birth and legacy of Tupac Shakur. The Coral Room—which features a wall-sized fish tank behind the bar with live mermaids—came alive as Tupac's family, friends and supporters remembered a true artist, soldier, visionary and all-around good brother.
You have to keep your eye on the past. Not only is it not dead yet, but it can sometimes jump up and bite you on the ankle. Not long ago, while reading the 1921 memoirs of James L. Ford, a New York theater critic and man-about-town, I ran across the following: "Many years ago, when prairie schooners were the means of transit across the continent, there hung from the axle-tree a bucket of black wagon grease containing what was called a daub stick with which the lubricant was applied.
The Motorcycle Diaries: THE YOUNG MAN WHO WOULD BE CHE
"I now know, by an almost fatalistic conformity with the facts, that my destiny is to travel," wrote Argentine medical student Ernesto Guevara in his diary as he embarked on an eight-month journey around South America in 1952. Fifteen years later, by then internationally known by the nickname "Che," he was captured in the Bolivian jungle by the Bolivian Army and the CIA, while trying to foment an armed revolution, and murdered.
The exiled Tibetan guru spoke to High Times editor Robert Singer in 1975 about Communism, Nazism and Coca-Cola. What did his holiness think of our national beverage? "It caused some trouble in stomach." He also spoke against drugs warning that, "Enlightenment should be curried by the full alert mind."
Thirty years ago, when High Times was in its infancy, I did a long interview with Norman Mailer that was published in two parts in Rolling Stone magazine. Mailer and I first met in Provincetown, MA, in the winter of 1970 and have been close friends ever since.
Adventures of a Street Lawyer: Consent and Sensibility
NEERAJA VISWANATHAN, ESQ.
I was back at my cramped, airless office after a long, hard day dealing with Self-righteous district attorneys and whining felons. Needless to say, I wanted a spif badly. My pit bull Marie was asleep under my industrial wood desk, snoring away.
Some say Iggy Pop jump-started punk. Stripped to the waist—and sometimes beyond when inspired to grab crotch—or revealing a stunning, lubricated, 12-pack ripple of a chest, smeared in blood, sweat and peanut butter, hurling himself head-first offstage, arms wide, trusting his fans to catch him....it is possible that the meaning of the word "punk" swaggered off the stoop and into music history with the animistic, who-gives-a-shit brilliance of Iggy Pop.
"Goddammit," Hunter S. Thompson thunders over the phone, "where are you?" (Laughter and conversation in the background.) "I'm down at the tavern, having a drink," I tell him. "Well, get the fuck up here—we've been trying to call you!" "Be right there."
"They've shut out the underground press again," said Tom Forçade darkly over a bowl of hash one evening in his 17th Street loft. "We're going to have to do something about it." He handed me a newspaper story about something called "The Voyage Beyond Apollo."
It all began with a late-night phone call and a sawed-off shotgun. I'd first encountered Tom Forçade four years earlier, while working at Concert Hall Publications, a small media agency in suburban Philadelphia. Tom was relocating from San Francisco, where he'd been publishing the radical journal Orpheus, to New York City, traveling cross-country in a beat-up bus converted into living quarters.
In the wake of the apocalyptic attack of Sept. 11, 2001, my perception of life, humanity and the world was shattered. Never have I witnessed such an extreme paradox between cowardly slaughter and courageous vigilance. Suicide terrorists mercilessly butchered thousands of innocent souls.
During the spring of 2003, Drew Ronald, a devoted father of three, was butting heads with his 18-year-old daughter Samara. One longstanding clash involved Dad's smoking of hashish versus her use of alphabet drugs like Ecstasy. Samara tried smoking hash and pot a few years ago, and at first she had a blast.
I remember the first time I saw my German friend Ted was in 1972. As I sat in front of the Boudhanath Stupa in Nepal with my Yogi friend, smoking chillums to Lord Shiva, a black Mercedes ambulance suddenly came roaring by with two huge Afghan fighting dogs chasing it.
In March 1972, the Shafer Commission, appointed by President Richard M. Nixon, came to the unexpected conclusion that marijuana should be decriminalized. Running for re-election later that year, Nixon rejected that recommendation and instead endorsed the creation of the US Drug Enforcement Administration (DEA).
Trans-High Market Quotations (THMQ) has been a part of High Times since the first issue, although back in those freewheeling days it was more of an insider's guide for would-be smugglers and dealers than their customers—after all, who else needs the price of a kilo of hash in Kabul, Afghanistan ($25-Winter, 1975) or a pound of Mexican bud in Florida ($200-June, 1976)?...