It occurs to me that our collective knowledge of cannabis might be a little out of date, stashed somewhere in the attic with the 8-track tapes and lava lamp. Don’t be embarrassed; until recently, I too was a clueless caveman about the modern ways of weed. I still consider myself a caveman, but at least someone showed me how to rub two Thai sticks together.
So damn your foolish pride! Ask questions! Being cool is no longer a priority.
My goal is to educate rather than agitate, so I’ll just skip over how newspaper tycoon William Randolph Hearst (you know, Citizen Kane?) conspired with chemical and pharmaceutical bigwigs to take industrial hemp out of the picture in the 1930s, despite the fact that we’d been growing it here since Jamestown.
Hearst, who was also a timber baron, peppered the public with sensational stories about the “Dangers of Marihuana” to protect his timber interests, while opening the door for fledgling chemical corporations like DuPont (who had just patented nylon) to replace hundreds of years of practical hemp and cannabis applications in construction, clothing, and medicine, with plastics, prescription pills, and relentless tree-falling.
Like most things, it was simply a matter of financial convenience for a cadre of wealthy dudes to screw the peasantry and erase an incredibly versatile crop from our memory banks. Find a copy of Jack Herer’s book, The Emperor Wears No Clothes, for further study.
But let’s table that discussion for now.
If your last experience with buying cannabis took place in a dorm room, then be advised that things have changed dramatically. First and foremost, legal cannabis means selection, something that didn’t really exist in the underground economy. The shop I work in typically has between 30 and 40 strains of pot available, each unique in some way thanks to an extremely flexible genetic makeup.
The two primary types of cannabis are sativa (great for day smoking and getting your ass motivated and on task), and indica (great for oblivion seekers, insomniacs, and chronic pain sufferers). And there are a near-infinite number of specialized hybrids between the two extremes of sleepy and switched-on to customize your head.
The first order of business is to find an honest budtender, who isn’t working on commission, to be your ganja guide, and let them know what state you’re trying to achieve.
Don’t go chasing the numbers. Yes, some strains of cannabis can contain close to 30 percent tetrahydrocannabinol (THC), the psychoactive element that produces the euphoria and relaxation sought by stoners since the dawn of time. Generally speaking, the high-THC strains result in a heavier, more robust high, but this equation isn’t universally true.
Smell the weed and look at the weed. Chances are, if you react favorably to the aroma and appearance of a certain strain, then you will enjoy its effects. Trust your instincts. If taste and smell are important components to your experience, then by all means, have your budtender track down something that excites the senses.
If you’re in emotional and physical pain, and not as concerned with getting baked out of your gourd, then ask about strains that are high in cannabidiol (CBD), another active ingredient, known for its medicinal properties, such as pain relief, anti-inflammation, and drowsiness.
Then again, there’s nothing wrong with telling the budtender that your day has sucked rope, and that you’re looking forward to vegging on the couch with pizza and Netflix. Hell, you deserve it for staying halfway sane in the face of all this nonstop fuckery.
To be continued, needless to say.
Doomed Again 