WOTSONTELLY, JON SOX MAKING A HASH OF THINGS, AS USUAL

 

DRUGS LIVE, CHANNEL FOUR.

If I had to smoke my potatoes or  my tomatoes or my parsley I would give them up. Inhaling the smoke from burning things is best avoided, smokimg weeds, however, is a particularly undesirable misuse of the respiratory system, smoking tobacco being of the stupidest things we can do, I know, I did it for thirty years.

But there's smoking stuff and smoking stuff. 
When I used to smoke dope I wouldn't touch weed, had to be resin, and nothing too potent, no Afghani or Paki Black, just RedLeb or MoroCcan,  the sandy-coloured stuff that had to be chipped or burnt from its tiny block.

 That Bob Marley, 'im smoke an pounda sacred 'erb inna week, mon,  every week,

 

 NO GANJA, NO DIE.

SKUNK ROCKER, BOB.

an' 'im dead  at t'irty two or some such  t'ing.

it is true that Marley died very young from a bone cancer contracted after  kicking a football and hurting his toe, but a pound of weed a week won't have helped.

It is unsurprising, to me, at any rate, that this over-engineered and over-commercialised Skunk stuff, seeds and pods and leaves and twigs, as well as giving you a sore throat, will drive you mental and Jon Snow's otherwise laughably hysterical show revealed  one tiny truth, one most of us have always known, which is that cannabis resin contains  its own brain-safety compound and weed doesn't.

The nature of Sox's inquiry was that a load of ridiculous, old, white, middle-class, student stoners 

 

- Jenny No-Knickers Bond, 

 Matthew Parris, 
Well, I'm on Radio Four quite a lot. And I write a column for Mr Murdoch  but I'm seldom on the telly, these days, so I thought I'd just come on this, and take part. I can generally think of something to say.

No, you're right, I'm not the gay young thing I used to be. So why anyone'd be interested in me getting stoned, well, I'm fucked if I know. Amyl nitrate, now, there's a buzz.

Richard Branson, he was there, hissing away.
Some of his Virgin Records musicians had used cannabis.
Some of the music was good. But some of it was too long.

 

and Sox, himself.

All would get a bit stoned under scientific conditions, have their brains scanned and depending on whether they had taken hash or skunk draw conclusions as to the merits of legalisation as opposed to continued control.  Sox, claimed to have been, under the infuence of a puff or two of Skunk, separated from his VerySoul, the mad old fool. They should all, in my view, have been arrested, everybody in the studio, for possession or conspiracy to possess and supply a Class A drug.  It is said that the governmen approved this showbiz experiment but if that is the case it should also arrest itself.
Why is it OK for a gang of geriatric, establishment luvvies to possess dope but not OK for me? I'm as experimental as can be, more scientific, too, I shouldn't wonder

Arrest, that's what would have happened to any bunch of Rastamen sitting around ingesting hash and weed - No, mon, be cool, I an' I is not gettin' stoned, mon, ill-eegally,  me is par-tekkin' of a hexperiment.

That prat of a bloke off the wrecked bodies show, he was there, too, Dr Christian-something

or something-Christian

 

co-presenting with Sox, bringing to the experiment all the gravitas of a telly-doctor media tramp.   

Christian is a man quite naturally living life at one remove from reality, if Dr Christian illustrates the merits of being straight then one should get stoned and stay stoned, forerever, fucking idiot.

Sox, post scanner, groping a ree-surcher, seeking his soul.

He was later to exclaim that the whole, wide world was watching this tripe, amazed at all the discoveries.  And things like that.
 Pioneering. Groundbreaking. Proof at last.
Nobody at C4 should ever send Sox to cover the Second Coming, his head would explode with imagined self-importance.

 I suppose the show's redeeming grace was that it included Professor David Nutcase, the pharmo-expert  sacked by Blind Boy Blunkett for uttering a  truth  which the deranged, cock-waving mutant didn't want to hear - that cannabis should be legalised.

But even as sane and cool a mind as Nutt's was shackled to Sox's inescapable news-as-showbiz schtick, forced to  run around the studio like a mad person, to fuck about with a big plastic brain and a nonsensical Harm Meter, something not unlike Sox's uncle, Peter Snow's, idiotic swingometer.
It's what they think of us, the Snows and the Dimblebys and the rest. We need pictures and gadgets, 
to help us understand things.
And celebrities, too,
 they help our understanding.
I expect he'll want a BAFTA, Sox, 
for this unadulterated rubbish.

Legalise it, 
nuff said.

A YOUNG JOHN PRINE, ILLEGAL SMILE