(no subject)

I work on a drug use harm-reduction forum, where people can ask all sorts of question on drugs. Sometimes we get some pretty ridiculous questions... I can promise you that lie you were told as a kid "there's no such thing as a stupid question." Was a lie.

Here is one such stupid question: (note, I edited the pronouns for ease of readability

my friend was telling me a story about how him and his friends were smoking pot the other day. He told me that one of his friends shotguned him a hit. He ensured me that it wasn't gay because his friend hit the blunt then blew the smoke into my friend's mouth without their lips touching. I told him that I don't care if their lips didn't touch the fact that one guy blew smoke into another guy's mouth, regardless of what they were trying to do, it was gay. What do you think? Was it gay of him to have another guy blow smoke into his mouth? Or Was it completely straight because he was trying to get high?

Here is my answer:

That is exactly, how the Doktor, ended up as queer as a three dollar bill. Next thing they know it's nothing but blowing coke off of dicks and going down on them in bathrooms, with in a year, it was like, all gay sex all the time. The Doktor thought they were lost, until a chance meeting with a missionary from the Church of Satan, wherein the Doktor learned that the Dark Lord actively encourages "creative sexual practices", especially those where drugs are involved. Once rid of the christian guilt instilled as a result of growing up in America, the Doktor has reveled in a whole slew of unusual yet immensely satisfying practices including, but not limited to, Idolfallacio, Semen Snorting, The Chinese Butt Bender, and the dreaded Meth-Tickler, a form of sodomy so VILE that upon completion all Mormons with in the city limits pee themselves a little.*

This act, "The Shotgun" is one of the most effective recruiting techniques our agents have. First discovered by Dr. Sigmund Freud, when he realized that "a cigar is NEVER just a cigar", it's effectiveness lies in the hypnotic properties of the marijhuana smoke reinforcing the transference of the target's lust for the marijhuana, to the agent's deep, yet sparklingly sexy eyes and rugged good looks. Dr. Freud also pioneered the "line of coke off my dick" technique, but found it considerably more difficult to administer without raising suspicions before it's effects settled in. Personally the Doktor prefers the "Penis-Shaped-Pipe" technique, once a guy gets high as a result of resting their lips on a penis shaped object, their lust for man flesh becomes so overwhelming, even the most potent drugs will be ineffective to that person, unless administer vie a cock.

It's one of those paths, that once started, isn't really something you can back down from, it's like The Yellow Brick Road to Oz, except with more sodomy. You've got teh gays and there is nothing you can do about it. So you might as well embrace the Dark Lord Satan, join the Queers, Fags, and Other Sexual Deviants social group, develop a taste for dancing to house techno, and learn to appreciate brunch, because that's what you eat after a night of hot gay sex.

Either that, or you can check into one of those "Ex-gay clinics" and have them make you watch gay porn while tasering your nads, what ever floats your boat!

No matter what choice you make, it's going to be literal Ass-Loads of Fun!

But really, you needed to come on to teh internets to find out how gay your friend is because he got a shotgun? This sort of deviancy, characterized by the need to share humiliatingly erotic experiences with total strangers is a from of voyeurism, and a sure sign of lavender undertones to the psyche. It's good that you've got some gay friends now, to help show you the ropes. MMMMHHMMMM.... Bondage....:::drooling noise:::

Love sets Fire.

*One out of every three do so out of excitement, not shame.

(no subject)

Visitors to Monticello don't learn how Jefferson cultivated poppies, and his personal opium use may as well never have happened.
March 3, 2010 |

The following is an excerpt from Jim Hogshire's "Opium for the Masses: Harvesting Nature's Best Pain Medication" (Feral House, 2009).

Thomas Jefferson was a drug criminal. But he managed to escape the terrible sword of justice by dying a century before the DEA was created. In 1987 agents from the Drug Enforcement Agency showed up at Monticello, Jefferson's famous estate.

Jefferson had planted opium poppies in his medicinal garden, and opium poppies are now deemed illegal. Now, the trouble was the folks at the Monticello Foundation, which preserves and maintains the historic site, were discovered flagrantly continuing Jefferson's crimes. The agents were blunt: The poppies had to be immediately uprooted and destroyed or else they were going to start making arrests, and Monticello Foundation personnel would perhaps face lengthy stretches in prison.

The story sounds stupid now, but it scared the hell out of the people at Monticello, who immediately started yanking the forbidden plants. A DEA man noticed the store was selling packets of "Thomas Jefferson's Monticello Poppies." The seeds had to go, too. While poppy seeds might be legal, it is never legal to plant them. Not for any reason.

Employees even gathered the store's souvenir T-shirts -- with silkscreened photos of Monticello poppies on the chest -- and burned them. Nobody told them to do this, but, under the circumstances, no one dared risk the threat.

Jefferson's poppies are gone without a trace now. Nobody said much at the time, nor are they saying much now. Visitors to Monticello don't learn how the Founding Father cultivated poppies for their opium. His personal opium use and poppy cultivation may as well never have happened.

The American War on Drugs started with opium and it continues today. Deception is key to this kind of social control, along with the usual threats of mayhem. Ever since the passage of the Harrison Act made opium America's first "illicit substance" in 1914, propaganda has proven itself most effective in the war on poppies. This has not been done so much by eradicating the poppy plant from the nation's soil as by eradicating the poppy from the nation's mind.

Prosecutions for crimes involving opium or opium poppies are rare. But that has less to do with the frequency of poppy crimes and everything to do with suppressing information about the opium poppy. A public trial might inadvertently publicize forbidden information at odds with the common spin about poppies and opium. This might pique interest in the taboo subject and, worse, undermine faith in the government.

The U.S. government strategy to create and enforce deliberate ignorance about opium, opium poppies, and everything connected with them has proven remarkably effective. The Monticello campaign exemplifies an effective tactic. The poppies were swiftly removed, and sotto voce threats ensured no one would talk about it afterward. Today, visitors to Monticello learn nothing about opium poppy cultivation or why Jefferson cultivated it in his garden.

Disinformation about poppies has been spread far and wide. Some of it is subtle, like when the New York Times talks about people growing "heroin poppies." Some misinformation is so bald-faced as to stun the listener into silence, as when a DEA agent tells a reporter that the process of getting opium from opium poppies is so complex and dangerous that "I don't even think a person with a Ph.D. could do it.

This enforced ignorance reduces the chances of anyone even accidentally discovering the truth about poppies. Poring through back issues of pharmaceutical industry news from Tasmania might yield a mother load of cutting edge poppy science -- from genetically altered poppies that ooze double-strength opium to state-of-the-art machines designed to manufacture "poppy straw concentrate." Tasmania's output meets roughly a third of the world's narcotic requirement. But how many people know that Tasmania is the home of the world's largest and most modern opium industry?

Opium and opium poppy ignorance is augmented by widespread false beliefs, chief among them that it is extremely difficult for opium poppies to grow anywhere in the United States. Opium poppies surely require exotic climates or special climatic conditions, don't they? They're found on remote mountainsides in the Golden Triangle and Afghanistan, where growing them is a secret art known only to a few indigenous people who jealously guard the seeds from hostile competitors.

These beliefs are all widely held, but entirely untrue. Opium poppies, in fact, grow nearly everywhere but the North and South Poles. The second prong of the strategy is the copious propaganda that demonizes opium, opium poppies and opiates. At times this demonization has been brazenly racist, catering to the xenophobic American mind at the beginning of the twentieth century. Later propaganda linked opium with the despised German "Hun" who ate babies and (as was reported) had been mixing narcotics into children's candy and women's face powder in a diabolical plot to weaken the nation from the inside. Later, Germans were replaced by communists, who also shipped narcotics to America's youth to weaken and enslave us. This was the authoritative word from Harry Anslinger, the infamous first Commissioner of the Federal Bureau of Narcotics.

Another example of false history is the mythical "soldier's disease" or "army disease" that supposedly plagued the land after the Civil War. According to the story, opium and morphine were used so extensively during the war as a painkiller for wounded soldiers (especially amputees) that the inevitable result was opium and morphine addiction. As a result, crowds of broken-down men roamed the countryside, ramming themselves full of holes with their crude syringes, having been turned into dope slaves by the good intentions of doctors.

This perfect example of anti-drug propaganda sounds plausible enough that few ever question it. And it has endured long after researchers discovered that this mythical legend was purely invention.

There is no documentation of any mass opiate addiction after the Civil War. The term "soldier's disease" or its variants did not appear in literature until decades later. Yet the story fits the officially approved stereotype by portraying opium and morphine as so powerful and addictive that they could rob anyone's soul.

If you knew that opium poppies do not grow in the U.S., you would not recognize an opium poppy even if you were staring directly at it. So, the idea of making opium tea from a bunch of dried decorative flowers purchased at K-Mart is ridiculous -- absurd, really. If it were that easy, wouldn't everyone be doing it?

Perhaps. But the establishment prefers to not test it. The idea of an individual having control over one's own life, especially regarding pain relief, is far too democratic to be embraced by tyrants.

The government and its allies in the narco-military complex have gone to great lengths to set things up as they are, and not allow a shift in control would affect licit or illicit sales of narcotics, poppy seeds, and any products derived from Papaver somniferum. In a market the size of America, nothing is too insignificant to generate huge sums of money. And the opium poppy is hardly insignificant.

Did you see Where the Wild Things Are?

If not, why aren't you going to go see it RIGHT NOW?

The only thing I saw about it was a bit of an interview with Maurice, seeing how elated he was, was enough to convince me to go. I really had no idea what I was in for. I had no idea I was going to cry through out this movie.

This is not an easy movie, it's not really meant for kids. It's about a child coming to terms with the fact that we live in difficult world that rarely goes the way you want it to. This is not an easy lesson for a child, it's not an easy thing for an adult to be reminded of.

Desolate, grey sets, emotionally unstable monsters dealing with complex interpersonal relationships, awkwardly uncomfortable music, grim moments foreshadowing real violence, there's nothing really comforting to grasp a hold of for more then a scene or two. Even some of the more touching moments are marred by the monsters, monstrousness.

11 pages of script for every sentence of the original book, that's no small feat. The seamless blending of puppets, animatronics, and CGI, create truly emotional monsters capable of a wide range of feelings, true actors. The sets are simply epic, vast forests, deserts, and arcology like structures. It's like nothing I've ever seen before.

This is one of those films to be seen on the big screen, it's one of those films everyone needs to see. Make sure to bring some tissues and someone to hold your hand. I'm not kidding.
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(no subject)

I found a new home, if only for two weekends a year. WildFire fire spinning retreat. From you're welcome home hug, to pie at every meal, it's possibly one of the coolest communities I've encountered. Total hug culture, great meals eaten together, complete trust (people leave their stuff where ever, no one is worried about theft), fire all night long... It's alike a younger, sexier, Brushwood, with fire instead of drumming.

The festival takes place at a boyscout camp. Boyscout camps all feel the same, the roads, the sites, the buildings, so being there brought back a lot of fond memories of my years at Schoellkopf. The platforms were still up, so I was able to set up my tent on a nice flat, non-wet surface, always a bonus. The dining hall housed the vendors (who let you play with their toys as long as you wanted to) and had two huge tables where all 300 of us could eat together. There was a lovely 3 sided porch which offered excellent rain protection. Did I mention pie with every meal?

The music was kinda lame. It seems that there's a good portion of the spinning community that really dislikes live drums, so the drumming was held off the main field and I totally missed it. The DJ COULD have been worse, I'm just not that into techno I guess.

There were SO many cool toys, giant battle ax, poi the size of basketballs, flaming puppets, fiery stilts all sorts of fans (though mine were the biggest and heaviest, and my collapsing fans drew all sorts of interest), a parasol that wasn't much less then an bonfire on a stick. What was so amazing, is that people by and large left their toys out, so you could just go up and try them out (unlit), and if you asked someone, they'd almost always let you burn them, other then the few things that were actually dangerous, my collapsing fans included)

It's been a month and I still feel the same way, I can't wait till June

(no subject)

It has been an exhilarating two and a half weeks out at Brushwood. I had the easiest departure in eight years of going to festival, ready to go the night before, no stress at all. Sirius Rising has turned into an incredible weeklong ritual on a five year cycle, this year ending the Messenger cycle with the Dragon, starting off the next five years of elemental dragons.

I'm not even sure where to begin. I built a few domes, one of PVC, a more permanent one of wood, the latter I did all but three of the lashings on. I made new family, fell in love more then once, and once it was even reciprocal, created new space, new music, learned to play the didgeridoo, ate wonderful food, mourned the death of a friend, watched people for their first time really grasp why we rant and rave all year long.

It was wonderful not having any responsibilities other then my mindless work shift. I think I got more accomplished this year then last. I spent a good portion of the time lashing together a new Didge Dome. The first one was built eight years ago, top heavy and of poor quality wood, it was repaired four years ago and completely taken down last year. This new one is going to be there for a good long time before anything besides some minor tightening will be in order. I came to feel it was a lunar temple, as opposed to the solar temple of the Roundhouse. The structure just offers a better view of the night sky, where as the roundhouse is simply spectacular at sunrise. The people I got to work with there were awesome. I really felt like I was able to grow close to them, I suspect I'll be spending quite a bit of time there in the future. Like on Labor Day weekend, when we've got a gathering planned.

My mentor Ivan's dreams are finally being realized. I could go travel and work for him all next summer. We'd be putting on events with for all sorts of crazy people, we'd be developing sustainable refugee housing models, we'd be making real money. I guess I just miss the Ivan whose first lesson to me "Look in a mirror every morning and repeat 'I will not be a cult leader.'" I dig he's on top of the world, but he's loosing control of his ego, he reminded me A LOT like StarBurner. On the other hand, he's become hell bent on high speed evolution, and it's hard to say no to that. I'm going to have to write him a letter, see what he says. I'm going to be joining him either way, I'm liking the way my own plans for a circus are going, and being full time staff for Ivan would give us unlimited opportunities.

I feel in love with a woman I had unknowingly enchanted eight years ago. We'll start in the present day, as it makes a more dramatic telling.
She arrived in the middle of Sirius and I watched her at the Roundhouse. She had some of the most intense trance dancing I had ever seen, she was utterly gone from her flesh, that just moved and moved, hours on end. There was something about her I found irresistible, not just her quite attractive boyish figure and undefinable age, blended with a mysterious Arabian style, but the way she moved, it was just so novel. I watched her for a week, I couldn't talk to her at the Roundhouse, she hardly ever stopped moving, and I suspect wasn't in a particularly responsive state, and she had her kids with her during the day. Luckily for me, she called out to me while I was walking past the cafe. "You, did you give something to my kids eight years ago?" (NO way! Never touched nothing!) "Origami?" "Yeah!" So it seems it was their first year at Starwood and they had just gotten their site set up and were walking down electric row. They came across me, in costume, sitting in the Faerie Garden and I gave her four year old daughter an origami dragon. This was a really big deal for her and become part of their Starwood mythos, they spent seven more years looking for me before we crossed paths again.

Don't accept gifts from faeries! Make sure you explain such things to kids too!

So she had been watching me all week too, thinking the same things about me, as I was about her. We sat up and talked all night, she said in the morning she was going to call her husband and talk to him so she didn't get in trouble and turns out he was cool with things. Like my first festival love Ray, things were intense as all hell, there's nothing like meeting someone when your naked, when you start with nothing to hide, it all comes out. We were both broken wide open by the experience, changed us to the very core of our beings. I don't know what the future holds for the two of us, but the oceans of a thousand earths wouldn't quench the burning passion I feel for her. It's one of those weird relationships where you know there is no where else it would work, that the real world would crush it, but in that place out of time it will always burn. I can't wait to see her again in a few weeks. Departing was hard, we cried in my camper that morning, it was a hard goodbye. A little later I went to help her finish packing her car, and the tension was too much to bear, but we didn't want to do anything in front of her kids.

Wow, it's been a few weeks since I got home, and I'm still feeling everything. I've never felt so open, I feel a real love for the world and the people around me. I have to watch myself, I'm in many ways kind of vulnerable, I feel like I often wish to do rash things that would bother those around me and probably my self. :::Wicked grin:::

Got to go back last weekend for Dionysus, always a good time, though kind of lonely with no one else at my site. Brushwood is really awesome during the off season, when there's nothing to do but sit around and talk. It's when you really get to understand the place. Everyone is too busy during festival to sit still, you don't really get to meet them. I'm supposed to be going back out to help repair the Round House, maybe get that set up for the men's weekend in late September. Probably be doing some of it over Labor Day weekend.

Well I've got puppets to make.

(no subject)

I leave for 2+ weeks at Brushwood tomorrow morning. I'm over packed for my ride, and still don't have everything I want ready. Still, I'm so calm and relaxed compared to most years.

I really need this, house tension is getting to be too much, I wish I could live alone, this is getting to be too much.

I have hobbies!

So I saw an ant running around and was thinking it'd be fun to feed it to one of my plants. It was too quick for the Venusian fly trap, but when I dropped it into the pitcher of my Sarracenia purea it couldn't get a grip on the sides, struggled a bit then turned around and tried to go down to escape, minutes later it was totally still, either dead or paralyzed!

<url="http://www.jstor.org/pss/2446558">When I looked into what caused this, I found this artical</url>, that says the rate of ant capture is .37% A THIRD of ONE PERCENT!!! That ant just curled up and died! I wonder could this plant be producing novel substances?

(no subject)

So that went better then I thought it would. I guess we'll just have to see what happens now. It's not going to be easy, I'm really going to have to do my best to keep a separation between Michelle and I, it's so easy to want to cuddle up and be playful and she lets me if not out right encourages it. Part of me thinks it'd be easier to get past things if I had someone else to play with or fall for, but that too seems like a can of worms best left for now. Not that I'm not going to try and date people.

Got my garden bed ready the other afternoon, as soon as the sun gets lower I'll be planting it up. Should be an exciting garden this year, the soil is so much better then last year now that I dumped a few hundred pounds of compost on it.

Blah, functionally broke till the end of the month. Got come cool stuff though. Steropticon viewer missing the clip (I can make my own) and a lamp oil powered 2 quart Samovar for tea. Now I'll never be with out hot tea again! Still need to test it out though, I still can't get to the wick, if there is one.

All sorts of new botanical experiments going on. Current growing list includes
seven species of orchids
sensitive plant Mimosa pudica
Venusian Fly Traps
two species of temperate pitcher plants, one tropical

Being planted today:
Hawaiian Baby Woodrose

(few days later)

So all that got in, things are looking good so far. Decided to wait on the grains till it's a bit warmer. I'm still super crappy at getting started seeds to take, I'm not expecting much out of what I started a few months ago.

I'm seriously considering installing a minigreenhouse in the back yard for my carnivores and orchids. I don't know how to get them enough sun indoors right now. We've got huge sunlight in winter, but almost none now and I'm trying to move them around to keep them in the light. I still worry about possible vandals. We haven't had any problems yet, but a sealed dome may bring too much intention and I wouldn't take it very well if something happened to my valuable plants. Plus it will be a bit of a disruption in the yard.

Going to look for hanging vinyl shoe organizers next month, they might be the key to going vertical in my indoor space. Drainage and watering may be a bit of a challenge, but I don't see any other means of getting an indoor vegetable garden going otherwise. If I could get the money for lighting, I'd consider setting up a decent sized grow room in the basement for salad greens.

Maybe I'll get my act together and really build a good shelf system for the extra room and try and set up in there.

Well I'm an hour and a half late for a picnic, so I best get going.

(no subject)

So when Michelle gets home I suspect we'll have a fight. I want her to leave, I can't do this whole living together and just being friends thing and it's clear she has no intentions of fixing our relationship. I can't leave here, I'd loose all my art, my workshop, everything I've worked so hard on in the past ten years. There just isn't a chance I'll find another place big enough that I can afford. She doesn't want to leave because she's stubborn.

It's for the best. I need to be with an adult. I've had some bad fights with lovers before, but never with someone so cruel. Not content to fight over a subject at hand, she does her best to belittle me, to twist my insecurities, her maliciousness knows no bounds. A few weeks ago she tried to goad me into hitting her, she deserved it for sure, but I'm better then that.

I don't think I've ever regretted a relationship so much. I don't know what I was thinking when I asked her to live with me. That was damn stupid.

So last night I asked her if she could make some time to talk in the next few days and she tried to blow me off, I told her she didn't get a choice in it. She kept insisting I tell her why, there were guests over and I didn't want another public fight. She kept demanding to know so I told her I wanted her to leave and of course she flipped out.

I don't think tonight is going to be any better. At least now I have no lingering interest in even continuing our friendship.

I'm pretty messed up over this. I really wish I could run away for a few weeks.
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