The Second London Hemp Fair: 4th, 5th & 6th November 2005

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The Liverbirds

I had half an hour to kill before the Train was due to leave Lime Street. I'd scored a nice ham box salad before getting the bus into town but I'd forgotten to get a drink. So I strolled over to St Johns Market and found what I wanted. Then I returned to Lime Street just as the 'strain' I wanted became ready for boarding. As we set off, on time, I tucked into my dinner. We arrived into London Euston an hour late. There had been a problem due to vandalism. Some bright spark had set fire to the signal system control.

I was wearing a long dark winter overcoat over my leather to keep off the rain, carrying a havasack, and wearing my hat and shades with a copy of my living will in my wallet. My freinds knew where I was going. In my bag I had my Ministerial Certificates and my 'Book Of Shadows'. In the pocket of my leather I had my Driving Licence and Passport. If the fuckers shot me, they would all soon know they had shot a Minister of Religion making a pilgrimage. Those in my Will would ask questions about my death.

How was it that I had come to this, the need to make such arrangements ?

I've been thinking a lot since the bombs went off in London in July, since the innoccent Brazilian man Jean De Menezes was executed in public by eight shots at point blank range to the head, since the sanctioned use of torture by coalition forces, since Tony Blair's speach telling us that "The rules have changed.".

"The rules have changed."

Have they fuck !

The opresser gives orders, the Ruled obey.

Is Viper about to go off on a conspiracy theory ? Well no, I'm not. No more than Noam Chompsky at least, and lets not forget his book 'Year 501 The Conquest Continues', published by Verso in 1993. The land of ideology is populated with the corpses of dictators, tyrants, & would be religious leaders. All have come a cropper when they have tried to inflict their will & vision upon their populace by force. That's an historic pattern you can trace back to the year dot & frozen to death. The people of the worlds differing populations and cultures have instictivly resisted the the will of the 'ruling' over the 'ruled'.

I quote; "One may isolate a section of the ruling class and attack it; but essentially the enemy of man is the means by which he is governed. It (The State) is an impersonal instrument although manned by real people. So far back as the ancient chinese philosophers, it was held that a man can not be expected to revere that by which he was chastised and the symbol by which he was made subject ………… It was axiomatic to them that the man that sold out to government did so for unworthy reasons. Invited by the Emperor to help him rule, one sage asked to be allowed to wash his ears ; he was admonished by another sage not to let his oxen drink from the water in which he had bathed the ears that had listened to such a proposal."*

It is an undeniable right of the people to take up arms against an opresser. It is a fundamental right that my ancestors faught hard for, and that I too believe in. It is this right that was the prime motivation behind the clause in the Americans Declaration of Indipendence that entitles American civillians to bare arms. To some, the exercise of this right is called 'regime change'.

In England the Age Of Reason was heralded with a 'regime change' which was marked by the seperation of Charles I's head from his shoulders during the great English Rebellion of 1640 - 1660. From thence forth the logic of philosophical debate dominated political thought over biblical & Papal dictate. This was the time of seperation from the realm of metaphysical fantasy into the age of reason & empirical knowledge.

To be breif, philosophers such as Locke, Kant & Roussou led into a train of thought that was expounded & explored in the writings of such like; William Godwin & his wife Mary Woolstonecraft, & later Lord Byron, P.B. Shelly, Mary Woolstonecraft Shelly, Walter Pater, Algernon Charles Swinburne, Pierre Jules Theophile Gautier, Oscar Wilde, and the Decadent Movement. Godwin was inspired by those before him to write a phoilosophy that had at its aim the betterment of individuals through self development, which he believed would in turn lead to the betterment of society as a whole. Godwin set forth his ideas in a lenghthy volume entitled 'An Enquiry Into Political Justice'. It was a book that at its time of release was to propel Godwin into the limelight of that day and ages media, heralded as the Philosopher of his time.

In Godwin's vision of Utopia; education and philosophical overstanding were of paramount importance, for his argument ran that without improved learning & overstanding of mans own surrounding environment, & mans relation to it, & his relationship to his fellow man, there can be only conflict as a result of ignorance.

Unfortunately for Godwin certain extremist elements in France siezed upon some of his ideas & bastardised them to suit their own political desires, so sparking 'The Terror' of the French Revolution. Godwin, the father of the Anarchist philosophy, was publicly castigated to an extent from which he was never to recover. However, lucky for him his son-in-law, P.B. Shelly, would read his work and grasp enough overstanding of it as to inspire others to re-examine the merit of its intellectual context & argument. Far from being a document that evokes violent regime change, Godwin's vision sets forth a philosophy based upon the mutual need of the partnership society which emphasises that if there is any real revoloution, then it is the one that takes place in the mind of the individual through the experience of education.

Those of you who are interested are capable enough of following the leads I have left you to expand the detail of your own overstanding of the above history, if your really interested.

Anyone heard of Terrence McKenna ? He wrote 'Food Of The Gods; A Radical History Of Plants, Drugs & Human Development'. A book about the study and examination of the partnership society of ancient time. Within this most compelling text McKenna argues convincingly that mans psychological, intellectual, and spiritual development has been as a direct result of mans discovery & ritual interaction with psychedelic & concious changing plants and substances, most notably alcohol, cannabis, and mushrooms.

McKenna argues that mans choice of concious changing substances, over many thousands of years, have led to todays problematic and contradictory cultural conflicts, which are in fact by turn modern manifestations of age old predjudice against one mans choice of intoxicant over anothers.

Both McKenna and Godwin argue the case for the ancient partnership society as naturally evolving, esentially both argueing, though from vastly differing perspectives, that the partnership society was, not only natural, but based upon the concept of common community mutual aid. Essentially, the people of the community provide what the people of the community require. Government, the bending of the spirit of the individual or collective community, or society, to a single individual/group will is therefore unatural to the nature of man. Government's pyhsical presence is 'the state', a parasitic organism feeding like Dracula upon the back of societey. It can not survive without its root and branch organs of social control and repression which are manifested in such social organisations as;-

"The apparatus of government; The legislature; the judicature; the monarchy; the civil service; the armed forces; the police; the party (in totalitarian countries) or the party political set up elsewhere.

The apparatus of persuassion: The Church (where it is part of the Establishment) although in a non-secular state it might be part of the apparatus of government; the Press and other methods of information; the educational system; the party in its persuasive role - all that we have in fact called "the neo-Church".

The apparatus of economic explotation: the monetary system ; the banks; financial control; the Stock Exchange; management in industry."**

People do not exist to serve & service The State, but The State was brought into existance to serve & service the people. Few would disagree from a historical perspective that the evolvement & production of human history has been as a result of conflicts between the Ruling Class and the Ruled Class. "The structure of all societies may be represented in terms of a simplified two class model consisting of a ruling and subject class. The ruling class owes its dominance to its ownership and control of the means of production."*** , and more presently, destruction.

Though there has always been a Ruled & Ruling Class the notion of a Nation State is comparativly new & is less than two centurys old. The idea of a Nation State was born from the needs of the Aristocracy in reaction to the French 'Terror' at a time when England was at war with France and expanding its new Empire. With the onset of the Victorian age and the beginning of the Industrial Revoloution the need for the Government of the day to find a unifying concept for its people arose. As people turned from agriculture and the agricultural way of life, tranforming into city dwellers and industrial workers of the new factorys of mass production, they produced new social problems.

The Ruling Class responded with legislation that required 'the workers' to conform to a set of standards which were imposed upon them via penalty of finance or liberty. Laws were put into place to control the actions of the Ruled Class & curb their behaviour. The education system was brought into being, not to improve the learning of its subjects, but to instill into them ideas of servitude, obediance, loyalty, duty, sociability and not least make them smart enough to operate the ever more sophisticated machines of the expanding Industrial Age. Ivan Illich's 'De Schooling Society' illuminates these points well

Study of the background and build up to the 1880's Education Acts reveals more about the Ruling Classes concern for the preservation of property, the need to control 'delinquent youths', and the supply of suitible factory employees than it does for the moral & intellectual well being of those they wished to 'educate'.

At the same time Karl Marx and others, in the new branch of 'Social Philosophy' (Sociology) were putting forwards challenging new ideas about how we make sense & organise our world about us.

Cutting the story extremely short, these developments in the intellectual world gave rise to the opposing ideologies of Communism and Fascism. Fascism however, had its roots firmly in the ideology of the past, and, is no more than an extended up to date vision of Plato's philosophy of 'The Republic' in which 'Art must be the servant of what public order requires.'.

The entire history of the last two hundred years can be viewed as a recording of how the idea of Nation State has been interpreted by the worlds different idustrialised cultures Ruling Classes, who have, with few exceptions, attempted to impose their vision of Nation State through policies of Colonisation and Imperialism. It was the jealousy of the Empire builders which led to the first two World Wars, following which, all the old empires fell redundantly away piece by piece. The only exception to this general rule being the United States of America who have sytematically Colonised many parts of the world with armed forces ever since the end of World War II, medelling intentionally with those Colonised countries social relations and economic structures.

It is no surprise that the Intelligence/Secret Services were formed as a result of the need of the Ruling Class to preserve their position of social, national and international status quo over the Ruled. At some point around World War II the Secret Services of the U.K., U.S.A. and Isreal banded together for their own common good. They set up a monitoring system called ECHEOLON which was not aimed solely at intercepting and interpreting intelligence between governments, but set up to monitor the communications of the various nations general populations. They have been listening to us all from that time on.

Since the end of World War II various Governments around the globe have experimented with methods of population control and the manipulation of information to create a hegonomy that seems natural & unquestionable. Ideology in the western world revolves around capitalist principles based on what Max Weber described as 'The Protestant Work Ethic'. Breifly explained, the "ethic was ascetic (encouraging abstinance from life's pleasures), an austere life style and rigorous self-dicipline. It produced individuals that worked hard in their careers or 'callings', in a single-minded manner. Success in ones calling meant the individual had not lost grace in Gods sight. Making money was a concrete indication of success in ones calling. John Wesley, a leader of the great Methodist revival which preceeded the expansion of English industry at the close of the eighteenth century, wrote, 'For religion must necessarily produce industry and frugality, and these can not help but produce riches. We must exhort all christians to gain what they can and save all they can; that is, in effect grow rich'."

The characteristics which have defined with prominence and without exception the Christian cultures down the ages since Adam was a lad have been their concepts of colonial conquest presented under the guise of saving souls, social control through fear, cultivated ignorance, & the blind belief in the powers of a vengeful, omnipresent, omnipotent, metaphysical, and 'jealous' God; Yahweh.

Well fuck Yahweh !

Praise the Goddess.

If it harms none, do as thou will.

Blessed be !

Lets go back to Charles I's last word before his head rolled; "Remember !".

Lets do that for a moment. Let us remember that those who lived in the metaphysical world of the 1600's actually really believed that the world would end if the King was killed. Let us remember some really believed Charles was the son of Yahweh. Let us remember the texts produced by the Levellers, Diggers, Ranters and Dissenters. Lets remember The Agreement of The Free People of England. Let us remember the birth of the Age of Reason, and let us "Remember" that when Charles I's head rolled into the basket that the world did not end.

Tony Blair has turned us all into targets by dragging us into a War we didn't want, nor support. He lied to us about 'Weapons Of Mass Destruction' and everything else to do with the lead up and enactment of the Invasion of Afghanistan, The War On Terror, and the War On Iraq. He and Bush have lied to all of us all the way along and Dr David Kelly, you have not been forgotten.

The July 7th bombings, and the following State sanctioned murder of Jean De Menezes were, I believe, partially stage managed by elements of the security services in order to bring about public consent for a raft of 'national security' legislation, including ID cards, designed to remove the freedoms and rights of the individual and diminish the power of the International Declaration of Human Rights and the European Declaration of Human Rights which causes the Oil industry such dificulties, and causes our Legislators such problems by demanding 'workers rights'. The WTO and the G8 have long term plans for all of us. They do not seem to include listening and acting on the requirements of those whom they aledgedly represent.

I am not alone in my suspicions. The results of Dr David Kelly's Inquest I found unconvincing. In the same way I find the 'official' explination of the seriously suspicious death of Diana unconvincing, and the 'official' explination of Jean De Memezes public execution unconvincing.

The bombs certainly took all the attention away from the Edinburgh G-8 Summit. No one has mentioned the failure of agreements there for a very long time, nor how they very quickly swept the bodies of Robin Cook & Mo Mowlem out of the way.

The reality is, thanks directly to the policies persued by Tony Blair & George Bush, that by stepping off the train and onto the platform at Euston, I, and my fellow passengers, were entering the battle field just as surely as if we were in Iraq.

I resent being put into that position without my consent with every fibre of my being, every breath in my body, and every drop of my Viking blood. I don't want anything to do with Blair & Bush's Bullshit War. I don't want any part of anything they say they believe in or stand for. I don't share their self fulfilling philosophy, ideology, or religion of conquest and ultimate Armageddon. They do not speak for me. They do not listen to my needs. They do not represent me. They do not act in my name. To me they are nothing more or less than usrupers and tyrants.

I woke one morning to find they had declared war on me.

Remember the War On Drugs ?

Well now us 'drug users' are classed as Terrorists because by buying and selling cannabis, an illegal substance, we are by default, they aledge, involved in money laundering. The zealots in power wish us to bend to their blinkered one eyed view of the world in which it is wrong to seek pleasure and knowledge. The culture of ignorance is well advanced. So far advanced in fact that those preaching the Jesus art of 'Just Say No' have no knowledge of the fact that J.C. himself was in fact a cannabis healer, a shaman king, from the school of the Ashera tradition. To be Christ is to be christened, and to be christened is to be anointed with oil in the Ashera tradition. The sacred anointing oil was chiefly made from the resins of the cannabis plant. Drenched head to foot in this oil the shaman king would soon go into a vision as the psychoactive ingredients were absorbed into the bloodstream through the skin.

I choose to smoke my cannabis as I am unable to aquire large enough amounts to eat or make oil with. I believe I link with the spiritual world whenever I consume cannabis, similar to the traditional practices of the ancient Ashera High Preists & Shaman Kings.

The reason I have come to London is to celebrate the spiritual nature of this plant with like minded people who wish to increase their knowledge of the world around them and their hempen history and culture which has been hidden from them by the Rulers over thousands of years. To do it, I am putting my life at risk.

I feel and hear my ancestors who fed and watered the Parliamentary Forces during the 1640-1660 English Rebellion protest in earnest at the decay of Reason displayed by todays Ruling Class.

It is a good day to die, so I step off the train and onto the platform.

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I make it to the suburban pub in the Surrey area that my hosts live in by 5:30pm. I'm met in the local pub, and am given a glass of cider upon final arrival at my weekend home. I've known these folks since before I was born. It's the nearest thing I have to going home these days. We enjoy an evening in front of the television. Or at least thats what we start off doing. I fall asleep and wake just in time to see the final 'Mike Basset: Football Manager' before calling it a night.

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Friday 4th November 2005

I woke up around 7:00am. By 8:05am I'd killed two bowls of top quality sticky black and a bowl of old fashioned slate Moroccan whilst watching the new morning sun rise. I was stoned to the bone. After a refreshing wash and shave I enjoyed a wonderful full English breakfast cooked by my hostess on her new hip. By 10:15am I was on my way towards Wembley Central. I got there via Victoria, Oxford Circus, and the Bakerloo Line.

I walked out of Wembley Central and began my walk up to the Exhibition Centre passing Eddie's bar finally arriving on site around 12:30pm. I saw no advertising on the aproach. There was nothing to say that the show was on. Going through the doors the first thing I noticed were the Greenhouse adverts. So the Big 'A' was here.

I could see many members of the public strolling around openly smoking. Everyone seemed to have a spliff in their hand. I needed a piss and I needed a smoke, so I headed for the toilet and on the way near had my eyes poked out by the three Jordan wanna-be's on the iGrow-box stand.

Its nice to see girls with little clothing but somehow it just doesn't seem right to use these 'show girls' to sell equipment for growers. You can't see the product in their advert for the tart with the arse. The distraction of the girls to stoned people puts them off a proper examination of the product itself &, begs the question: if the product is so good why do you need such heavy and tacky presentation ? It should sell itself.

Returning from the bogs I headed towards the Edit stand to say hello and thank you to Mark for sending me my tickets. I also thought it might be a good place to have a few hits off the Proto Pipe. I wandered over and discovered Mark looking stressed already,

"I'll be back in a minute.",

said he so I took a little wander about. I thought I'd try and get some geography on the situation. The next thing I remember is a young lovely from Grow Systems Norwich Ltd bounding up to me with a bag of free shit. At the time I was just about to load my pipe with a litlle old fashioned slate Moroccan. I had the pipe and hash in one hand and my lighter in the other. I took the bag instinctivly and began talking to the girl, ........................................ then I realised I'd dropped the hash.

The Girl Who Made Me Drop My Hash

For the next five minutes there were three of us searching the floor by the stand. Finally I gave up. I headed across to Edit and told Mark what had just happened.

"There you are man. Try some of that.",

he said pointing to a bud on the little desk. I didn't need to be asked twice and started building up a nice Ital while Mark recovered his staff from their unofficial lunchbreak.

"Lunchbreak ? What lunchbreak ? It's a Trade Fair there is no lunchbreak."

EDIT Mark: Winner of 'Swiftest Equipment Replacement' Award

I have no idea what I was smoking but it wiped me out good and proper. I simply lost around two and a half hours chatting away. I didn't think I'd been talking that long. Folks kept coming up to me asking the price of things. I could have sold a wheel barrow full of stuff if I'd known the answers. As it was I simply passed them on to Mark.

Eventually I decided to go and have a proper look around. I was really high, so I decided to go get a coffee to help get my head together. I failed miseribly and made a complete tit of myself over at the Weed World stand oposite the coffee bar.

Eric gave me a sample of one of her toffee's and asked,

"Did you see the Viper's Delight recipee in Weed World I did for you ?"

No, I hadn't. You see I'd stopped my distribution round just after last years Festival. I'd had an accident in my car which had written it off and I'd had to hump the last issue around the shops on the bus. There were dificulties at one of the outlets and after two years of trying to get something together without any help from anybody else I decided I'd had enough. Especially after the abysmal farce of the Cannabis Cup last year. So I'd decided to give myself a bit of a break from the cannabis world to clear my head a bit & rediscover some of the other things in life I used to enjoy. I stopped reading all the cannabis publications. I stopped spending time on Forums. I cut my ties, and decided to seek an easier way to make a living. So no, I hadn't seen that issue of Weed World.

Damn !

I don't supose you could look it out for me could you Eric, maybe drop me a line with it ?

It was then that I noticed the new Weed World logo on the T-shirts. Looks remarkably similar to mine don't you think ? Only I've been using mine for the last few years. I decided to ask Phil where he had got the idea for his new logo. Unfortunately I couldn't find the man that day, nor Bob. Eric remained tight lipped.

I went for a walk about and drifted across the Exhibition Area where the stage was and spied a counter full of mushroom growing gear. Which reminded me, where were the Pollinator Co. this year ? I drifted along and came to Seedsman.

Tom the Seedsman

"Have you seen the naked girls yet ?", he asked.

"Naked girls ? I saw the top heavy ones in the hot pants .. !?"

"No. Not them, the naked ones. They're painted."

"Where ?"

Tom took me over towards them but I got side tracked over at the I-Grow stand. It took me ages to talk them into posing in front of their own product. Wasn't that what they were here for ? They let me have one shot.

"Its been a long day.",

the blonde one said. Really, no kidding, gosh, well I never, could that be why everything from my waist down was aching and I felt in need of a sit down and a pot of tea ? Nobody was paying me £100-00 a day to be here. I wasn't getting paid shit to be here. I was going to see if I could get another shot having worked so hard for the first one but just then I spotted my Cardinal, Ferre, & fellow Minister, Echo, from the THC Ministry. Tom reapeared like the Shopkeeper in Mr Ben. He'd been watching my progress from a safe distance. No doubt suitibly entertained.

Homegrown Fantasy:Winners of the 'Stallholders Who Tried The Hardest To Start A Party' Award

Us Ministers were in need of a place to sit down, share some sacrament, exchange news, & get a hot drink. Strolling around the corner to the Coffee Bar I'd found earlier we came across Homegrown Fantaseeds and Jaap. He beamed over at me with a big wave hello. So we Ministers did duly set about making the place smokey over some real Dutch coffee. Fantaseeds Garden even had their own sound system which was blasting out the vibes right across the venue. I was greatful. There was a serious absence of music at this event. I told Jaap how I'd rung Weed World earlier in the year with a view to getting a local band on the bill only to be told;

"We don't have a music licence.".

"Your kidding. Really ?! How can you have a Festival without music ? Music is a big part of the culture. Always in the shop, at home, the coffeeshop, always music is playing. It creates an atmosphere, the plants like it too. Thats why this year we bring our own (nodding at the twin deck sound system belting out some proper vital reaggae). Perhaps next year we can help with that side of things. We know all the best DJ's in Amsterdam. We could maybe arrange a few to come over or something."

"Yes please !"

Japp told me how he had taken over the coffeeshop again from his sister and had recently remodeled it to suit his own personality more. He had a lot of plans for the future and was full of enthusiasm.

Tony & Freind: Winner of 'The The Most Stoned Stallholder' Award

I left Ferre & Echo there as I was ready to make my goodbyes and begin my dice with death across London to my hosts abode. It was 5:30pm. As I went to say goodbye to Mark I spotted Tony from Sagamatha Seeds. He was cosmicly stoned with great swimmy red eyes beneath his ever lengthening locks. Tony is becoming more family orientated these days. He said he has got rid of the shop because now he's a dad for the second time he just doesn't have the time to manage it.

I caught up with Mark closing up the EDIT stand and looking relieved the day was over.

"Gary & Space will be here tomorrow. I told them you'd be here."

Gary has now gone solo and opened up a T-shirt business.

The day was over. It had been a good one. Lots of people all day nice and steady. Mark told me he went through around a dozen postman sacks of free give aways. He said each sack contained around four hundred 'gift bags'. Thats a hell of a lot of give aways, and it was only the first day.You have to fiigure that a lot of the other stallholders were going through similar amounts of 'give aways'. Attendance seemed to be around double that of last years first day.

Eagle Bill: Inventor of The Vapouriser, London Hemp Fair 2004. - R.I.P.

Sadly the Sensi Seed Stand was rather limp this year. Really I supose it isn't too surprising. Eagle Bill no longer walks with us. His absence on the stall is massive. He was such a feature and fixture of all the Cannabis Trade Fairs. Last year he let me be first to fire up the Vapouriser after which everybody began relaxing a bit more over public toking.

I liked Bill, he had some good storys to tell. I remember he once gave me a lift back into Amsterdam from one of the Dutch Hempfairs after I'd gone with the Pollinator crew. Tearing along the Dutch motorway at break neck speed while giving shit to the other drivers around us and having to physically move his leg by hand to operate the brake;

"What you smokin' there son ? Hey that's not bad. Where did you get it ?".

Lee Bridges cannabis poet has also crossed over with Bill. Soma has had a major heart operation. The rest of the Amsterdam Set have all decided to get healthy I hear. No sign of Lawrence this year either, and still no show from IC Mag & Seeds Direct.

I left the venue and made my way up to Eddie's bar for a pint. As I walked in I did a double take. There was a guy stood at the end of the bar bouncer style and he looked just like one of the Mitchell brothers from Eastenders (BBC 1 television soap). I decided to get something to eat in town. It should be easy enough to pop up somewhere like Oxford Circus as I changed trains on the way back to my hosts. There didn't seem to be anywhere along the way in Wembly for a sit down dinner although there were plenty of fast food outlets.

When I got to Oxford Circus that was just what I did. I braved the bombers and state assassins and found myself close to the top end of Carnaby Street. I strolled down the trendy designer label strewn street that I remembered so diferently. It used to be packed full of colourful little alternative clothing stalls & shoe shops. Places where you could buy that one thing you couldn't find anywhere else. It had a character of its own and I enjoyed browsing along the shops on the few occasions I was able to. Now it looks like anywhere else. Faceless, characterlees outlets bathing everywhere in a sterile bright supermarket light.

I didn't pause once. There was nothing to see. Not any more. At the end of the road I turned left towards Soho & China Town. There had to be somewhere around there that I'd be able to eat. I ended up in a Thai all you can eat and had three good plates full before settling the bill. It cost me £6-00 for the meal and £1-50 for a cup of hot water frightened by a ginseng tea bag. Bastards. Still, I couldn't fault them on the food itself. I might even return.

I went for a walk around and kept coming across open doors advertising models. What a lame way to run a whore house. I stopped at one out of curiosity. The hand written sign said : 'Nicole, new in town. All services. Uniforms & Toys.'. It's a ratty tatty set up compared to Amsterdam. The whole thing has sleaze right the way through it like a stick of rock. It's dificult to relax enough to fuck when your worried you might be robbed, or tricked, or raided at any second. You can't even see the girls.

Disgusted, I left London City for the London suburbs.

I was in time to catch a couple of pints before last orders. Intending to catch the bus up the lane I went over to the bus stop where a bunch of teenagers were hanging out.

"Wow that's a sad leather. They're sad boots them mate. Oi Stigsy, have you seen these. What do you have them for ? Giving people a good kicking and that yeah ?"

One of them aproached asking for 30p for his Bus Fare. I breathed cider fumes all over him. What am I ? A fucking charity cash dispenser ?

"Fuck off !"

The bus shelter mysteriously cleared within around forty five seconds of my arrival. Suitibly satisfied I wouldn't be seen by the kids I whipped out my reading glasses for a look at the bus timetable. I'd missed my bus by five minutes. The next one would be in twenty five minutes. I could have done without it, but the walk would at least give me an opertunity to have a smoke before I got to my hosts. Though I had lost my hash I had fared pretty well for a smoke that day. It seemed everyone had a good stash. Almost all of it better than the stuff I was currently smoking.

One stallholder said he had seen some lad skinning up a joint with Soap Bar. He stopped him and corrected him about Soap Bar use leaving him with something he was just about to ignite and enjoy himself. As I'd walked in I had been delighted to see just how many members of the general public were walking around quite freely and openly smoking great big spliffs. Folks were skinning up all over everywhere. The place was actually a little hazey. Every twenty minutes or so a voice over the speakers would remind us all that this was a no smoking event. Marshals in jackets with walkie talkies roamed around busily telling everyone to; 'put that out please'.

Nobody took a blind bit of notice.

I'd had a few little hits here and there as I went around and it was all high grade stuff. Chief amongst the range were a number of diferent tasting Cheese's. That old school English enhanced variety originating from the Exedus Collective.

I still had a little 'Emergency Stash' held inside my Proto and as I strolled up the lane reflecting on the day I smoked a few bowls of something I was told was Dutch in genetic origin, cultivated under South African sun, and imported into the U.K.. If you believe what your told. It had been the right price at the time I bought it, a little seedy with some tree trunks in there, but it had a really nice strong upfull space energy hit. I didn't taste too bad either.

To reload my pipe I had to first take out the poker and clean my bowl. Then I had to detach the stash can and dislodge the compacted de-stalked de-seeded stash with the poker enough to be able to fill the bowl with. Fill the bowl. Close the bowl cover. Replace the stash can. Replace and lock in position the poker. All on the move, and without dropping anything. This was the pipe that Lee Harris had given me as a sample to take around the Liverpool head shops. I had, but they all said it was too expensive a pipe for most punters to buy. They had a point as these things sell for up to £37-50 each. They are however the most useful smoking instrument that I have ever used. I felt honoured to have been given this pipe by the man who had brought it from the realms of someones imagination into mass manufacture.

The Proto Pipe started off as an invention of one of the characters in one of the Counter Culture comics that Lee had a hand in getting published & distributed. Some hippies out in California saw the comic and the pipe and actually made the thing from the cartoon drawing. They gave Lee the distribution rights in the U.K..

Fair play.

I wondered where Lee was. He certainly hadn't been at the event today and from what I had picked up he wasn't expected to be making any speaches over the weekend. Howard Marks had a stall and he wasn't and hasn't been doing anything worth getting excited about for a very long time. I guessed that Lee was probably doing something far more worthy and interesting than standing around a trade fair to be gawked at. There were another two days to go. Maybe I'd see him before I went home.

I went to reload my pipe. The poker had slid out and was lost along my path. I had forgotten that it had worked itself loose with the constant use and it now required an extra fiddle with it to make sure it was actually secure and not merely in place. I was most annoyed but quieted my angst by quickly realising I couldn't have lost it at a better time. Tomorrow, at the fair, there would be plenty of people who would be able to get me a new poker.

__________________________________________________

Saturday 6th November 2005

After applying some sticking plasters to my feet over the tender spots, and enjoying a splendid full English breakfast whilst listening to Jimi Hendrix over my hosts radio, tuned to BBC Radio 2, I began my journey across the new English battle field of London. My havasack was all but empty. Inside were my Minister Certificates, a photocopy of my Dr's letter, 'The Witch's Bible', my black flag and little else. It made a good place to put my hat & throw any useful contacts & free stuff into. I was conciously making an effort to carry it by its top carry handle like a shopping bag rather than rely on the shoulder straps while I travelled on the train. I reasoned a big guy in leather wearing a hat with a brim and shades might have some over enthusiastic psycho nazi police cadet foaming at the mouth and straining at the lead. I wanted to make sure the CCTV footage showed a bloke minding his business and looking casual with no ordinary reason for anyone to have justification to think I was doing anything remotely 'terrorist' like. If I sound paranoid then it is because I have good reason to be so. I may look diferent. I may think diferent. I may be diferent, but I've no plans to murder anyone or blow anything up, and I only advocate the use of violence in reason of self defence.

Jean De Menezes didn't look much diferent from the 'ordinary' looking lads I rub shoulders with in my local pub. When I saw his picture in the paper I was really shocked to see his skin tone could barely be described as a heavy sun tan. Official news service descriptions and information supplied by police gave the impression of a dark skinned, or coloured, suspect who had acted rashly and ignored police instructions to cease and desist resistance to arrest. We were told that Mr De Menezes was wearing a heavy winter coat, that he jumped over ticket barriers, that he resisted arrest and a lot of other stuff.

We now know everything we were officially told was total bollocks.

If they can do it to him, they can do it to you.

If Jean De Menezes was a suspected suicide bomber on his way to detonate a explosive device fitted to his body, wouldn't it have been more apropriate to have arrested him out in the open street outside the suspected residence ? Consider; even if the device were to go off, in an open street perhaps there would be some damage to cars and windows, maybe even an unfortunate passer by, but the force of the explosion would be able to dispel without confinement and cause only limited minor damage.

Jean De Menezes was allowed to board a bus containing many other members of the general public. There had already been two bus bomb attacks. It would not be unreasonable from the point of view of the security services for them to supose that this suspect suicide bomber may detonate his device in a similar way. Therefore, the Security Services were immediatly failing in their duty to protect the general public by allowing Mr De Menezes to board the bus. He should never have reached the train station in such a circumstance.

Jean De Menezes was allowed to board the bus. He was allowed into the enclosed environment of a busy train station where an explosive device upon detonation would cause the greatest number of casualties and structural damage. He was shot dead with eight rounds fired at point blank range to the head by State sanctioned assassins. Those are the facts.

You have to figure that if he was allowed to board the bus, and allowed into the train station, before police indentified themselves, that there must have been a reason why they put the general public in danger. I can not concieve of any justifible reason for the security services putting the general public at greater risk of injury, especially when it is their job to prevent such situations, can you ?

I can speculate though, how about you ?

The State wants to start ruining childrens minds with indoctrination at the age of three now, before children can develop any real notion of individuality, personal privacy, or freedom of imagination. I would not allow them to stunt my childs intellectual development with their mantras, if I had any. I'm glad I don't, for as a parent I would be woefull about the future the state intends for them.

Now I had it fixed in my mind which stations I had to go through, and their colour codes, all I had to do was not get blown up or shot and follow the signs. I made it to Wembley Central on the underground system as swift and easily as a native. When I reached the venue I made straight for the coffee stand and sit down to make some notes. I called into Weed World to say hello and Eric offered me some more toffee.

"Take a couple.", she said.

So I did. Lovely ! Thanks Eric.

I went for a bit of a walk about calling in first at EDIT where I bumped into Jeff from Beggars Belief & Bud Buddies.

Dot, 'Can smoke you under the table.' - London Hemp Fair 2004.

Unfortunately Dot has passed over to smoke with Bill and Lee Bridges since last year. Her place seems to be being filled by the new personality of Cannabis Granny. I told Mark about the loss of my Proto Pipe poker.

"No problem Viper. I'll get on the phone and have one of the lads bring one over with him."

Wow !

Now thats service.

I went across the way for a photo of the girl who had made me drop my hash the day before. I thought it would be nice to get a shot of her posing in front of whatever they were selling. I thought it might make a nice follow up and put a nice end on the tale of the lost hash. You see that morning, as I'd emptied my bag of the stuff I had collected the day before, I spotted the bag she had given me. Curious as to what was actually inside, I just upturned the bag and let it all fall out on the freshly re-made bed. Sat right there, in the midst of the stickers and flyers, was the piece of hash I thought I'd lost.

Excellent !

My record stands intact. I haven't lost any smoke since that bitch Thatcher was in power.

So I went over to tell her how things turned out and ask her for a shot and thing. She agreed at first, and asked her freind to join in. Things looked well. I waited for them to show willing, but they remained seated. They wern't toking. Either they couldn't be arsed, or they thought I was some sort of pervert. Either way, they were going to make me work for a shot. 'Fucks to it' I thought. I just couldn't be bothered to try and coax them to sell their own product. There were naked girls wearing nothing but paint around the corner all but begging to have their pictures taken. If I'd wanted to perv out, surely, that's the place I'd have been hanging about, right ?

So fuck 'em, and their products, thought I somewhat irritated.

Hydrolight Notts

I continued along my way and came to rest at Hydrolight Notts the 'mom & pop' developers of some rather neat and useful small space 'personal' grow equipment. I remembered them from last year, and they remembered me too, almost. They got me a little confused with the guy with the film camera who had gone around. He had been attached to EDIT in some way, and his name, if I remember correctly, was Paul.

They did however remember reading my review, and had seemed to like it too. Nice one !

The picture I took of their Ballerina device does not do it justice. It does give you an idea of their size though. Essentially the idea is you can have four revolving drums of plants lit by one single light bulb set in the centre of the equipment. It's something that was developed for growing all kinds of agricultural crops as the developers were at pains to point out, its something that can be used for food production.

I wandered around some more checking out the huge hydro systems on display. I started to take a few snaps when I recognised one of the guys checking out this system from my hometown. We exchanged greetings and I discovered he has now set up his own Hydro supply shop. I wish him well in his new business.

Spiritual High

I continued on, and ran into a guy with a platter full of free drugs. I was to discover that these folks also sold Wild Dagga, and Fly Argaric mushrooms. I got talking to the guy on the stand, questioning him about his wares out of interest, but seemingly in enough detail to worry him that I was a member of the D.S.. He gave me one of his pep pills to try, which I did most willingly. It was 2:30pm.

"I was thinking of eating around 6:30pm."

"Oh you'll be right by then. You should have a nice little buzz."

I checked back at EDIT to see if my poker had arrived yet, and met up with Space. The poker hadn't come in yet, but it would be here in about five minutes. I took Space over to the platter of free drugs, and he tried one too. Then I bumped into an aquaintance from my Amsterdam adventures. I'll just refer to him as L.R. . The three of us ended up over at the Dutch Passion stand taking advantage of the stools and tables for a long intake of sacrament and a catch up on news. During the impromptu spiritual gathering we sampled two different variations of Cheese. Me and Space started coming up on our pep pills.

It was a strange sort of hit to begin with. Aware that there was some concious change taking place but unable to pin point just what. At times I felt a little trippy, a little speedy, quite spacey, and I was getting strange stomach sensations like when you do mushrooms. L.R. left us to it. Shortly after, I split myself, as I needed both to piss and move around. I felt active, but my back was aching. So were my feet. I'd had to put plasters on the tender parts to prevent blisters after breakfast. I was off my head a little bit, and I definatly had some boogey in my oogie.

I checked in at the Weed World stand and breifly saw Bob and Phil. They were busy dealing with some press thing and organising Howard Marks on to the stage. I tried to pin down Phil for a chat, felt a rising wave off the pill, and succeded only in the opening steps of the conversation I hoped to develop into a subtle interview over the adoption of the new Weed World logo.

Some twat came up and nicked him from me for some press thing. I wish he'd get a haircut.

I drifted around a bit and found myself back at Dutch Passion. Space was still there being spaced. We compared notes on our pill hit. While we were doing so I became aware of somebody on the balcony pointing a camera in our direction. I turned and drew Space's attention to it. I had instinctivly turned my back to whoever was pointing the camera. Space agreed that whoever it was, they were indeed pointing a camera; at us. I turned to subtlely glance up for a better look, making out I was just looking around. All I could see was the shoulder of a dark coat, dark hair, long, kinked, and a fuck off big camera lens, pointed right at me, tracking my movement.

'Who the fuck ...?' I was thinking before the special investigation department inside my head came back with an 85% racing certainty that it was Ferre. I turned around again, this time looking directly into the lens and pulling a face. The camera moved, and I could see that it was indeed my Cardinal.

I went upstairs to join him and Echo and check the overhead view of the festival. Greenhouse had secured themselves the first stand as you walked in. It was a big space with very little displayed within it. In fact it was plain boring to look at. Much was being made of the 'big A's' High Times Cups. Most of us over here don't give a fuck about what Hight Times does. We think High Times are full of shit. We know the Cannabis Cup is bogus. Nobody was apreciating the flash car used to advertise ..... whatever it was, either. Nobody was impressed with the naked girls in paint. Not the stallholders, who mostly thought the stunt beyond the pale of credibility ('if the product is any good .....'). Nor the ordinary punters who considered it over the top sales marketing: 'too in yer face man'. I refused to photograph them for just those reasons (no offence to the brave ladies willing to be displayed).

Then we made our selves comfortable for the Howard Marks speach. We shouldn't have bothered. Howard was too far gone to make any sense. He wasn't just stoned, he was wasted. He looked as though he had just come from a major session, and probably had. He rambled like the local pub drunk through material I'd heard before, performed at the Slaughter House in Liverpool last year. Then it sounded quite snappy and entertaining. Now it sounded like the mad rambling rant of the over intoxicated. It was embarassing and cringing to watch. We three Ministers made a point of leaving before he finished talking. We were noticed in our departure.

We split in diferent directions as we left. I went around the hall once more saying my goodbyes for the night and picked up my poker from EDIT, free of charge.

Thank you Mark.

We met up again later and I was invited back to the hotel where everyone in the show seemed to be staying. While Echo went to take up the bags and freshen up, Ferre and I went into the hotel bar. Without a great deal of thought I ordered a large malt whiskey and side glass of soda water. At home I pay around £4-00. The water comes free. Here they charged me £8-90 including £1-00 for the water !

Fuck me. A bottle only costs around £25-00.

I tried to get Ferre and Echo to join me for a pint down at Eddies bar,

Echo: "Is it a nice pub ?"

Viper: "No. Its a rough working mans boozer, but the drinks are sensible prices, and they have Jamesons.",

however Ferre doesn't actually drink, and Echo was pointing out that they picked a hotel next to the venue so they didn't have to walk about much. I drew breath, finished my drink and bade them both pleasant dreams. Down at Eddies, I got talking to a couple of my homies who were down here on a building job. Once I heard the accents I felt sure I'd be onto a winner with some local knowledge of where to get some sit down scran. However, it soon emerged that they were none to enamoured of Wembley's selection of fast food either. They couldn't recomend me anywhere.

I felt comfy chatting, so I had a second pint. When I finished I went to pick up my bag and take a piss before leaving. The bloke I'd been talking too got offended when I refused to allow him to look after it for me while I did so. Coming from the same town as myself, he should know full well, that you never leave anything you want to keep with a person you've only just met, in a pub. I avoided a serious conflict, but narrowly. I felt rather put upon. I made no claim nor obligation on the man other than the passing of the time of day and the exchange of some local information. I accused him of nothing. Yet he had felt he had the right to impose his morality over mine.

Trust is a funny thing. It has to be earned over a long time period. Once broken, like virginity, it's gone for ever.

The only thing the State has successfully taught me, repeatedly, is that like a stranger in an unfamiliar pub, it can never be trusted. Let me say it straight out so you students can quote me in your essays; Tony Blair and George Bush are fucking liars. Tony Blair and George Bush can not be trusted with the time of day. Their governments are corrupt capitalist totalitarian hypocracies. Their reasoning is without logic. Their actions are without honour. Their merit system without value. Their shamless persuit of power, for powers sake, can lead only to conflict and destruction.

I reasoned that the people of Wembley can't all live on fast food; but where they hide the stuff that isn't fast food mystifys me. Maybe they all go eat out of town. In the end I found myself back in the 'all you can eat' Thai place, close to Soho. I reflected on spotting Gypsy Nirvana lurking around in a black leather rain coat and Jah Wobble style hat that afternoon. So, IC Mag was represented this year, sort of.

_____________________________________________________

Sunday 6th November 2005

Somehow I got myself lost in Oxford Circus underground. I thought I'd followed the same path as the day before but somehow had decended into a more subterranian level that was either new, or suffering from a loss of advertising. The bare faceless concrete walls quickly reminded me of those dreams where we find ourselves lost in the labyrinth. Lost in the darkess in some Twilight Zone movie set where an American Werewolf stalks ever closer and the last remaining miner from 'Deathline' dementedly calls after us to 'Mind the doors'.

For a moment I began to really feel claustrophobic. I had a flash vision of people running and crushing each other as they shoved each other out of the way in a desperate attempt to escape some awful disater. I didn't know, nor stop to consider, if my vision was of the past, or the future, or merely a projected manifestation of my own present fears. I just felt spooked, and headed for the Way Out signs, following them only to come back to where I'd started my diversion around what might have been the basement of Sunnydale High. This time I ensured I took the correct turn. My feet, now covered in seven sticking plasters over pre-blister tender patches, were greatful.

I arrived at Wembley to find Space on free gift door duty. He was beaming because he had found a little new love the night before. A tattoed lady overseeing the Dutch Passion stand. I don't know how long he had been there, but my arrival was all the excuse he needed to take a break. We scored a coffee each and went upstairs to the bar to see if I could score a shot to go in it. I was in the mood this morning having had a few the night before. They didn't have any malt whiskey, so I settled on a large brandy instead. It went well with the coffee on top of my full English. I had particularly enjoyed the black pudding this morning.

While we talked and supped coffeee, looking ocasionally over the balcony, a male and female security combo stood overlooking us from the next table set along. We talked low. We contemplated sharing sacrament. We believed we could find a more 'user freindly' environment. We found one.

There really wasn't that much left to do, except catch up on gossip, and take those last few photos. As I went around, the news on the wire had it that there were CID plain clothes officers walkingthe floor. After hearing this for the third time, I went over to Weed World to find out what was happening. It seemed that there had been nineteen complaints of dealing the day before.

Who the fuck was complaining ?

There were four CID orificers walking the floor, I was later informed, from a variety of sources. There were descriptions of three of them. Two had already left, I was told. Word was that they were considering locking down the venue and bringing in the dogs to bust everyone captured inside. That would have been a sight to see. Can you imagine the scramble to stash and swallow ? The stampede to the shithouse ? The subsequent mass court appearence where everyone would turn up and smoke the place out, doing bong hits in the dock, giving 'home baked' nibbles to the Jury to enjoy on their coffeee break ?

The counter claims of wrongful arrest, Human Rights abuse, and religious persecution ?

Go right ahead and bust us.

We couldn't ask for better publicity.

Just 'Remember' it's an International event. With international representatives, a lot of them members of the THC Ministry.

My host was a former police officer. The old sort that caught robbers and clipped wayward teenagers around the ear if required. A man, and his wife, I've known since before I was born. They're from the old world, the one I was born into. The one still measured in feet and inches. The one my mother delivered his son into before my arrival. The one that at my arrival into it, declared my presence illegal. The one before video, & the mobile phone. Fucks, having a telephone full stop, that was a novelty in the street I grew up in. We had one because my mother was a midwife and often 'on call'. We had the only other car too, for the same reason. I remember neighbours calling to ask if they could use the phone.

In my teenage years I followed the adventures of a fictional character created by Johnnny Speight, Alf Garnet. Alf was the fictional epitome of a man from the Ruled Class with Ruling Class ideas. Alf was an unprecedented bigot, racist, sexist, and most certainly not 'P.C.'. His jealousy of others, like Yahweh, knew no bounds. The series ran over several decades. Alf's long suffering ardent left wing son in law was played by the actor Tony Booth, now father-in-law of Tony Blair.

You heard me, he's Tony Blair's father-in-law.

Yes, isn't life ironic !

I went around spreading the word into the right quarters for relay as I saw apropriate. When I got to EDIT, I briefly had, an intially sceptic Mark, display my Ministers Sanctuary Certificate while I took Sunday sacrament. A young guy in a red shirt came up to me as I exhaled the sacrament from my sacred chalice and asked me to 'put it out please'. He spoke and moved on so swiftly that I had to ask members of my select and inpromptu congregation what the transgresser had said. I think that's when I met EDIT forum user Crazywolf. A nice fella, hi Wolfie. I also saw Dibbs from Bud Buddies knocking about with a serious haircut. Nice one.

Cannabis College

Time was marching along. I called in again at Weed World as I passed. Health and Safety officials had shut down the laughing gas tent. It had been in operation since the show opened and very popular, yet here in the last two hours some faceless 'jobsworth' had suddenly decided it was a danger to the public.

I drifted on and finally came across the Braintree Hemp stall. I like these folks. I met them just after they arrived in the U.K. and set up shop. Its nice to see them doing well. They carry some nice lines of clothes. Dean was telling me how on the 7th of July he'd been enjoying his day off when the bombs went off. Ordinarily he himself would have been in the midst of it. He lives right in the middle of where all the bombs went off and drinks in the area regularly. He said since then Trade at the shop has dropped off something wicked. He wasn't the only London shopkeeper to tell me this over the weekend. A number of them are struggling to pay overheads and going into the red to meet staff wages. It's not just the cannabis folks I'm talking about either.

Think about that for a monent. Trade right across London is down so low that businesses are not making enough to pay their own bills and staff wages. That's shops, pubs, clubs, hotels, newsagents, shoe shops, health shops, clothing chains, record shops ........ everything. Come new year I'd predict a lot of them are going to go bust. Which means an economic depression will likely ripple out from the capital across the nation. I predict it kicking in just before the new Council Tax bills drop through the letterbox with their expected 10% increase. I forsee a rise in property crime and a rise in violent crime.

Times are getting harder and the people are getting crazier as they get more desperate, and because the police go around armed to the teeth the criminals feel justified in carrying arms too. It's a natural response. If a guy comes into your yard with a stick to beat you with your going to want to pick up a bigger stick to help you defend your ground. Its bad news for those of us stuck in the middle.

"police - pl. (noun); the body of men and women employed by the government of a country to keep order, enforce the law ...."****

The modern police use assassins, chemical weapons, are sanctioned to employ torture by taser, they wear armour, carry guns, retractible battons, shaklements, and their visual apearance is one ready for armed conflict. They are ready to use force to exhert their control and impose the will of the Ruling Class, for whom they work. They are not dressed for mediation, and yet somehow as individuals they feel offended that ordinary people have no respect for them. Hired thugs are hired thugs however they are dressed, and by what ever label they operate under, even if occasionally they do return our lost pets.

The police are in a dificult position, but nobody put them there except themselves. The police force came into being after the tithingman system that had been regulating the behaviour of a group of up to ten families for hundreds of years collapsed due to the onset of the Industrial Revoloution and the change from argricultural life to city life. With it came a change in the conception of time too. Instead of rising when it got light and retiring at darkness new machine time rigidly enforced working hours. With mans divorce from nature came new social problems; "The failure of the (tithingman) to cope with the changed conditions resulting from the Industrial Revolution gave rise to a period in which, at first in London, and later throughout the country, uncontrollable crime & riots are aknowledged by contempory writters to have menaced the existance of state."*****, just as it was being born.

Pressgangs, usually a Captain, two lieutenants and some armed crew members, were set up and allowed licenced practice to kidnap poor working class men into enforced enslavement in the Navy or Army. "By an Act of 1835 the period of compulsory service for men impressed for the navy was limited to five years. The employment of the Pressgang, though in abeyance, is still legal."****** "The method was abandoned by the Royal Navy in the 1830's."*******, just as the first ever police force in mainland Britain was getting itself organised.

You should check up on this stuff yourself. Its your history, of your country, and your countrymen. Why they never taught us about this stuff in school I can only sepculate on. The premandatory and mantra doctrine of obsession with World War II being preached at me I found unhealthily stultifing. The stuff they insisted I learn has been of no use to me as youth nor adult.

I told Dean I was glad to see him in good health and wished him well, hoping very much to see him again at some time forward from now.

Mel Thomas author of 'European Cannabis Cultivation', & Lee Harris of Alchemy

It was getting late now. All that really remained for me to do was say my goodbyes. Though Homegrown Fantasy were still pumping out the vibes and doing their best to keep up the party vibe other stallholders were begining to dismantle their stands and the punters on the floor were thinning consideribly. Tony from Sagamatha Seeds had already gone. He was intending to catch an early flight so he could spend a little time at home with the family. I'd seen Ferre briefly earlier in the day but had been engaged in conversation at the time. I wondered why I hadn't seen him and Echo for a while and enquired at the stand I'd last seen them at.

"It looked like him and his girlfreind had a row. They were shouting at each other.",

I was informed. A theological diference of opinion I presumed. I went over and had a chat to Jon from Avalon. He had quietly enjoyed the weekend from the recesses of his stand. As I left to continue my final round a voice I recognised said;

"Hello Vern. How are you ?"

I turned to see the very man I'd been wondering if I'd see all weekend. He'd had no mention anywhere that I heard. He wasn't here to give a talk, though the Gods knew he could have held an audience captivated with the stories he has to tell. He had no stand here, though I know he could have been an honoured star guest at many of them. He did though have an earnest student type following him about.

"Lee !"

We looked for somewhere to catch up on news, but as it was drawing late Lee decided to concentrate on doing business first. Here it was the last hour of the last day of the second London Hemp Fair, and here I was with a man who was one of the original prime movers of the whole counter culture/psychedelic movement, a man that was partly involved in getting Timothy Leary high for the first time on LSD, going around a venue that had grown out of his pioneer Alchemy 'Head Shop' venture, organised by a cannabis magazine that owed the dues of its existance to Europe and the U.K.'s first ever 'Homegrown' cannabis magazine, created by Lee, and they had even made him pay to come in.

Somewhat aghast, I chatted to Lee's follower and discovered that he was about to re-vamp Lee's web site. It was his first time at one of these events and he was rather impressed at 'the scale of the business'. While Lee talked shop we went through some numbers working out that the avarage non-cultivating toker spends around £1,750-00 a year on his/her hobby in smoke and related delivery system materials.

Lee Harris finished his swift round of select stands,

"Would you like to come back to the shop Vern for a coffee ?"

"Sure."

and off we went to find Lee's car. Braving the London rush hour traffic Lee navigated our makeshift Tradis back to the Portobello Road and the Alchemy shop. Henk was just closing up as we arrived. Lee and Henk exchanged some opinions on the workings of the shop sound system, it was acting up again. Some things it seems don't change.

We began chatting about the Fair. Who had and had not been there. Several people mentioned Jamie and Northern Lightz this year. All with good things to say of him and wishing, like myself, that he's doing well at whatever he's working on. If he was there we missed him. We moved onto a brand new club around the corner. It was their opening night, and Lee knew the people behind it. We went in to have a look around and a drink and upon discovering they did food began a long wandering meander towards apraising the menu. It was at this point, as I talked to Mike(?), that I became aware of Lee talking to someone else away from the table. Although I couldn't hear what was being said I could tell by the body language what to expect. Sure enough,

Lee, "It's alright finish your drinks, but we're going to have to go."

V to Mike,"Drink up were leaving."

Mike, "What ?"

V, "You missed that didn't you ?"

Mike, "Missed what ?"

V, "We just got politely asked to leave - drink up."

It transpired that somebody objected to our not paying to get in. So we went around the corner to the Mau Mau Bar and had a drink in there instead. A nice bar with a relaxed atmosphere and similar to many of the trendy Dutch Coffeeshops in style. Lee began remenising about the 'old days' which was a delight to listen to. He has such wonderful stories about the people he has met and shared sacrament with. Mike split off as we decided to move on and get something to eat a few doors down. As we ate we talked about a wide range of subjects. Want to know who got Howard Marks started after being released from Jail and brought him to the U.K. from Spain ? It was Lee. He joked about writing a book.

Lee, let me be the first to offer to help you write it.

I can think of little better that I would enjoy doing more.

So it came to pass that the second London Hemp Fair was over. It was another huge success. All had gone very well by all accounts from stallholders. Everyone agreed that attendence was at least double that of last year. Some were already making tentative plans for next years event in Coventry. The police had remained at a distance but I'd put money on them having a slew of photographs and names and addresses to go with them. The only problem that anyone had encountered, that I was aware of, was over the laughing gas.

We finished our meal and Lee gave me a lift to Notting Hill underground. We wished each other well and went our seperate ways. We both had plans for the future that we wanted to make our starts on.

Viper 19/11/2005.

______________________________________________________

Footnotes

* - S. Christie & A. Meltzer, 'Floodgates Of Anarchy', p.10, Sphere Books 1972.

** - S. Christie & A. Meltzer, 'Floodgates Of Anarchy', p.147, 'Is A Free Society Possible ?', Sphere Books 1972

*** - M. Haralambos, 'Sociology Themes And Perspecttives', p.786, The Two Class Model, Collins Educational 1991 Ed.

**** - Chambers Encyclopedic English Dictionary, p.988, 1994.

***** - Everyman's Encyclopaedia: Volume Ten, p.550, 1949-1950..

****** - As above, p.640.

******* - Chambers Encyclopedic English Dictionary, p.1006, 1994.

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First Published 19/11/2005 by Viperslair.co.uk

Re-published 1/1/2006

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