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The 6 best places to be high in public .

You’ve turned grey from spending too much time on the sofa. It’s time to take a breather and regain some of those colours! But where to go? Where are the ‘stoner-friendly’ places to avoid paranoia attacks? Here are the best 6 places to be high in public.

Number 6: In a square
It’s the most obvious place, after all, it’s always nice to sit on some grass to smoke one.The reason why squares are so far down the list is simple: squares are unfortunately filled with kids. Little creatures that are after all very nice, but make LOTS of noise and could ask awkward questions about your choice of consumption for the day.
The writer’s tip: Squares are risky since there is a lot of surveillance. It’s better to chill there with a drink once you’ve already had your smoke at home.

Number 5: Next to a hotel swimming pool
If you have the means to do it, there are a number of luxury hotels which propose private swimming pools with a bar and beautiful women. The author of this article loves being stoned by the pool. The problem is that he’s far too broke to let go of so much cash, which is necessary to be part of the jet-setter lifestyle.
The writer’s tip: Date a rich person. If you have rich friends, they can also invite you. All the private clubs allow a +1 per member.

Number 4: In an arcade
If you’re feeling energetic, arcades are true numerical treats. You can dance like in the 00’s, shoot zombies or have fun with VR. Arcades are a great experience for stoners thanks to a bombardment of permanent information.  Watch out for your timing, because like with squares, you are in the kingdom of noisy kids.
The writer’s tip: Sunglasses to hide your red eyes and a large soda will bring you joy for an afternoon of flashbacks.

Number 3: In an amusement park
If you’re tired of going to an amusement park and seeing the same thing each time, we highly recommend… going back high! Thanks to cannabis, the songs are no longer annoying, they become iconic, the attractions are no longer predictable but enchanting. A great occasion to go back to your childhood.
The writer’s tip: Access is riddled with security; it might be best to try spacecakes or edibles for your trip. Once you’re in you’ll be protected by the masses.

Number 2: In a festival
It’s obviously the best place to smoke with friends, whether the line-up is reggae or rock. Most of the big festivals are very tolerant to the smell of weed. Ask the usual suspects where the most appropriate place to smoke is before getting your buzz on.
The writer’s tip: Bring food, food stalls are very expensive at festivals and munchies await you.

Number 1: At a barbeque with friends
If you’re lucky to have friends with a small garden, nothing beats a joint with the fam’ in the sun. A great opportunity to munch on some hot dogs and make new friends.
The writer’s tip: Don’t be selfish, bring food and drinks.

 

Mike Teeve

 

Smoking weed with the president of Uruguay.

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Vice went to Uruguay to talk cannabis with the first president to have legalized the green plant.

At the end of 2013, Uruguay became the first country in the world to fully legalize marijuana. VICE correspondent Krishna Andavolu visited Uruguay to see how the country is adapting to a marijuana market regulated by law.

On the way, he meets Uruguay President José Mujica to burn a fat one, and talk about the president’s goal of putting a chicken in each pot, a car in each garage and six cannabis plants in each household.

As a reminder, four varieties are available for sale in small packets of 5 grams, at $ 1.40 per gram. Each consumer, once registered, can buy 40 grams per month. Only Uruguayan citizens or those with a residence permit can register. To date, Uruguay has nearly 7,000 home-growing farmers, 107 cannabis clubs and 28,500 legal consumers, which is six times the number registered for the first day of sales, according to official figures.

Find on our site the portrait of the president José Mujica, by our correspondent in Uruguay right here.

Jacob

The 5 places you shouldn’t go after smoking.

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You are slightly stoned and don’t know where to go? After our best places to be high, here are the places you have to avoid at all costs.

Number 5: The night club
Clubs are noisy, busy and very costly. It’s a great night out if you want to flirt or dance, but if you’re super stoned, you risk feeling oppressed pretty quickly.
The writer’s tip: Pick a nice bar. You’ll be able to talk and interact with people at your own pace. You’ll get to know people who are more chilled out.

Number 4: The Bal des Pompiers in France
This is especially the case if you live in Paris, where firemen have the same status as the police. So, like in a nightclub, you will be in an agitated environment, but most of all, surrounded by armed forces who know very well how to notice someone who’s smoke too much dope. Avoid this at all costs if you’re ever high in Paris on the 14th of July!
The writer’s tip: Buy a firemen’s calendar when they come round houses for donations, they are indispensable. The firemen, not the calendars.

Number 3: A conference or in court
You’re going out with an art student. She proposes to smoke a joint at her place before going to a conference with a theologian who specialises in 14th century medieval art. Of course you’ll say yes, it’s just a little joint at her place, two things you like to hear in the same sentence. But believe me, it’s a trap.
The writer’s tip: Hide in the bathroom and find an independent Iranian film to go and see with her. You won’t be more interested, but you’ll be well hidden in the dark. (You’ll also have an excuse to hold her in your arms).

Number 2: Any night, public transportation
It’s already horrible to be stoned inside where there’s no way out. Confined into a metallic tube, you suffer those looks from everyone, in total paranoia. You’re certain that all the passengers in your compartment knows you’re high. Also, night transportation often comes with some quite violent and dishonest people. The author of this article has had his phone stolen about ten times in public transport, and almost exclusively at night. Avoid being an easy target for thieves.
The writer’s tip: If you smoked, you will definitely be less careful, chose an uber or a taxi. Better to lose 15 euros than your whole wallet.

Number 1: Any shopping centre during sales season.
A place which is rammed with security, pickpockets, tourists and police. If you were going to do the sales high, in a shopping centre, it’s that you wanted to suffer. But why so much hate?
The writer’s tip: If by chance you find yourself in this situation, imagine yourself in ‘Man vs Wild’ as Bear Grylls. It will definitely be more fun than reality.

 

Mike Teeve

A FLAG WITH A CANNABIS LEAF ON IT:

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Internet is not only the source for numerous cat videos and half-dressed ladies, it’s also become the origin of one the coolest flags in the world.

The small Estonian town of Kanepi, the name of which means Cannabis in Estonian, was named after the fields of hemp that surrounded the city in 1923. In 2017, the Estonian government decided to remodel its municipal system to reflect the change the town was witnessing. A new flag was ordered and an online vote was put in place.

Thanks to Reddit, the community website, internet found out about the name of the city and immediately decided to propose a with flag with two green bands on it and an enormous cannabis plant on it. The number of voters got up to 15885, two times the number of inhabitants in the city. Votes obviously came from all four corners of the globe. The municipal counsel had the choice whether or not to apply this popular vote which had been heavily influenced by the outside. Arno Kakk, one of its members publically announced ‘I am not in favour of the nature of such a flag’.

The vote came very close, finally giving the win to internet with 9 votes against 8 (probably thanks to the large amount of publicity the city received) at the end of 2018. A flag which was allowed because it fell under the requirements for municipal flags in Estonia. It flies high above the Town Hall of Kanepi. Cannabis is illegal in Estonia, but any possession of less than 7,5 grams is considerable negligeable and can only be punished with a small fine. Good news if you wish to visit the town.

.Mike Teeve

José Mujica, the first president to legalise weed.

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Ely is our correspondent in Uruguay. There, for us, he analyses the different aspects linked to cannabis in the first country to have allowed the sale of recreational cannabis on its land.

José Mujica or ‘el Pepe’ is an emblematic figure of the fight to legalise it. It’s in large part thanks to him that in 2013, the country became the first in the world to legalise weed. This old man with the puffy face and farmers clothes resembles a pensioner of the Uruguayan country side. He might not look sharp but he witnessed unprecedented success to his presidency. Strong leader of the coalition of left wing parties in his country, the succession of progressive reforms that he initiated triggered a strong media echo. This atypical person brought the attention of international media and was branded ‘the poorest president in the world’. It’s true, Mujica did not want to change his habits when he became president. Hence, he gave 90% of his revenues to not-for-profits and was living on slightly over 500 euros a month, and said he would make saving in case of difficult times. Mujica also refused to live in the presidential palace in order to stay in his countryside cottage, not so far from the capital. He chose his sobriety and cherished it. Mujic truly kept his old habits. However, he transformed the social landscape of Uruguay by legalising abortion, gay marriage and weed in 5 years as President. The first man to have legalised weed is an old farmer, but not only. He is also an old leader of a guerrilla group in the 60s, and spent the 70s in jail.

This old man legalised weed starting from the simple observation  that the country was fighting narco-traffic and drug consumption for 100 years and it had been a total failure. For example, in Uruguay almost 10% of the population had smoked weed in the last 12 months, these habits don’t go away and people continue to find it illegally. So, Mujica put forward the idea of legalisation to fight against narco-trafficers by putting forward a market regulated by the state rather than a criminal one. The biggest motivation was to increase the security of the country. It was a 15 stage plan called ‘strategy for life & coexistence’ that he proposed as a project. Indeed, Mujica legalised weed with the concrete objective to replace the criminal market, without increasing consumption and for this, cannabis in Uruguay is not a high-profit market like in Canada or certain American states.  Weed is sold between 1 and 2 euros for a gram, with a strict legal décor and a ban on tourists purcharsing it. (re-read: landscape of weed in Uuguay).

Furthermore, 66% of the Uruguayan population was not favourable to legalisation. Mujica therefore decided to legalise and regulate the sale and consumption of cannabis on the simple conviction that it would spread the ‘togetherness’ of the country, and this, despite unfavourable opinions and international pressure from banks. It is the not the legalisation that is the most interesting but the fact that a president took the risk of imposing a choice on his population, hindering their liberty to make their own choices. To understand Mujica and the impact he had, it is essential to go back on his revolutionary past and of political prisoner.

Let’s visit Latin America of the 1960s where democracies fall like dominos and military dictators attempt to eliminate the spread of communism. Uruguay proposed elections still, but the country was heavily corrupted and under the spell of the American superpower. All the countries of Latin America had their socialist guerrilla group, and in Uruguay they were called the ‘Tuparamos’.

Grandpa Mujica, in his thirties was one of the leaders of Tuparamos. This armed group led diverse actions to destabilise the political status-quo and American hegemony, fascism and far-right groups that were becoming more and more numerous. On the ideological spectrum, they were mostly left-wing, even if their profiles were quite varied. The group was in the media for having assassinated a CIA agent, who came to Uruguay to train the police in the repression of revolutionary communist groups. Basically, these American agents trained Latin American police forces in techniques of the most advanced torture. The murder of this CIA agent actually became the subject of a Costa-Gravas film ‘State of Siege’.

In 1973, Uruguay becomes a military dictatorship upheld by the American regime, and Pepe Mujica is imprisoned.  He would stay 12 years in prison and would suffer numerous tortures, of which isolation marked him the most. The film ‘Companeros’ which came out in 2018 follows the story of his imprisonment and the physical, mental and psychological destruction inflicted upon him.

When he was released, he was diagnosed with heavy psychosis. Today, he looks back on those times with his head towards the ground. According to him, his imprisonment was the perfect time for him to elaborate an idea that he wanted to spread. For Mujica, politics was a way to put through his message, like you can see in his speech to the United Nations. In it he says we must spend time concentrating on what makes us happy, to not be chained back by consumption and that we must concentrate on our love. Happiness does not depend on external causes, but of ones-self, which is quite a strong message from someone who spent so long in isolation. His relationship with time and liberty to have time is present in his discourses. Another lesson he says to have learnt in prison is that we must not live in the past and we must always move forward. its in this time that he legislated his thoughts on society.  From his experiences, Mujica knows the cost of liberty and as president, he offered the people a power to make their own choices. Legalisation of cannabis is an example of that.

At the end of the dictatorship, Mujica continued to lead political actions in a pacifist manner, in the name of the Tuparamos. Hence, the Tuparamos are one of the rare guerrilla groups to have become legitimate. They then allied with other leftist groups and extreme left group to integrate the ‘Frente Amlio’ which was one of the largest political parties in Uruguay. Mujica never renounced his past and his old-man’s presidency stayed in a continuity of his political actions as a guerrilla, with the same revolutionary willpower. On paper, legalisation seems evident and repression absurd, but Mujica is the first man to have done it and to have shown the world that it was possible.

Mujica is the first man to have legalised weed on a national level, because he is a revolutionary who believed in individual liberty.

Ely

Stoner’s retrogaming: The Super Nintendo

Today, video games have become epics with hundreds of square kilometres to explore and dozens of objectives to complete. Way too much info to be stoned in peace. With its 16bit graphics and its iconic controller, the Super Nintendo stays as the queen of retrogaming. Here is a little collection of games for stoners:

To play strategically: Earthbound (1994):
If it’s not the most well known role-playing game on the Super Nintendo, it’s definitely the most original. With a very adult sub-text, colourful graphics and a surprising storyline, this game is ideal for a long weekend with spliffs.

For a gigantic brawl: Ultimate Mortal Kombat 3 (1995):
This augmented version of the 3rd episode of the series is clearly the most successful with 22 fighter, 16 arenas and a pack of surprises for fans. Of course, it would be impossible to talk about Mortal Kombat without its fatalities. It’s the last of the franchise in 2D, with digitalised captures, real actors and just for that it can’t be missed! It’s gory, it’s funny and it’s the perfect occasion to determine who has to get off the couch to go and get the pizza.

For racing: Rock & Roll Racing (1993):
A racing game that will remind you of the times when you would play with remote control cars. Very 90s, each vehicle has machine-guns, missiles and other weapons to allow you to destroy your opponents that get in your way. You can also incarnate a parody of Batman, a werewolf, an alien, Olaf from Lost Vikings, and lots of surprising and different characters.With it’s Soundtrack being a rock song converted to 16bits it’s the style of game that can be played along or with a friend, listening to covers of Steppenwolf, Deep Purple & Black Sabbath.

For being cute: Yoshi’s Island (1995):
Simply the most beautiful game of the SNES. You play as Yoshi, who carries baby Mario on his back to keep him safe. Thanks to the Fx Chip, it benefits from quality graphics, fakely naïve and stuffed with detail. It is the only game to reach such high quality in this generation of consoles.  It’s also the only game developed by Nintendo, which openly references drugs (when you touch Fuzzies, you have psychedelic hallucinations, which makes the game even more fascinating to play).

To play in arcade mode:  Smash TV (1990):
This game is the hardest of our selection. In this adaptation of a classic of the American arcade floor, you play alone or two player against waves of enemies from an isometric view (from above). Thanks to its very quick gameplay, numerous bonuses and innovative graphics, the game does not fall short because of it’s difficulty. It stays much more fun to play with a friend (even it’s just for one or the other to roll a joint after being atomised by the enemy).

Mike Teeve

Tripoli Express #2

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Ariel, our correspondent for Lebanon, has divided his most recent adventure in the lands of Beirut into three different papers. Here is the second episode of the Tripoli Express.

After being stopped and handcuffed at the checkpoint on the motorway, Antoine, Karim and I were walking in single file, escorted by four soldiers, towards a large black pick-up. Hands cuffed, I struggled to crawl into the back of the pick-up. A soldier screamed at me to hurry, I fell forward onto the floor of the trunk, and at that precise moment, I asked myself how such a small quantity of hash could have led me to this situation. Since our phones had been confiscated and switched off during the arrest, and even our watches had been seized, we no longer had any notion of time. It was pitch black and freezing, we were shaking in our t-shirts and the soldiers had refused that we take our coats, lined up on little benches, while the pick-up sped down the motorway. Karim seemed to be conversing and negotiating with one of the soldiers. Antoine translated for me: the soldier said he regretted the situation, that the laws of the country are made this way and that the government wasn’t doing anything to change them. That, if it was just up to him, he would have gladly received a gift or bribe from Karim’s parents, but there were cameras everywhere in the place they were going, it was too risky for him. I asked where we were going, and one of the soldiers coldly answered: ‘to Baalbek’. Baalbek is the large city which is closest to the Syrian border and a region that was currently under the control of Hezbollah. My face must have quickly turned pale at that point, since the soldier started laughing out loud. “Of course not, we’re going to Tripoli”. Was this supposed to be reassuring?

The pick-up stopped in the Batroun police station, on the way between Beirut and Tripoli. They made Karim ‘the guilty one’ get out first, Antoine and I waited and became more and more confused in the trunk. Suddenly, a sweaty forehead appeared in the opening of the trunk door and asked who the French person in the car was. I then explained that I was in Lebanon as a cultural journalist. I was ready to get out of the pick-up and be taken home by this man, but actually, it seemed that he had only come to tell me: ‘Ah, culture… Hash is great for culture, right?’, and then he left. Karim got back into the pick-up, in silence, and the engine started again, Tripoli-bound. Freezing, tired, anxious, my friends and I didn’t have anything left to say, we didn’t understand anything anymore, we had to wait and submit.

At night, Tripoli is deserted, silent.

I tried to figure out where we were in the city, trying in vain to recognise places I already knew. The pick-up parked in front of a tatty concrete building-block. The soldiers passed us on to some men that were wearing leather vests and ripped jeans. They escorted us inside this place which only looked like it might be a police station. Jokes in Arabic aimed at me, menacing stares, abrupt words and gestures had already become the norm, of course. They separated us in order to start a series of procedure. First, a man painted my name in red on a piece of cardboard, in the Arabic alphabet, and put it between my hands. He took mug shots, from the side and front on. Then they sat me down in an office, in front of another man who was writing without paying attention to me. Suddenly, he addressed me in perfect French, and the interrogation started. Other than the obvious questions, he asked my what my religion was, the frequency of my sexual encounters, my drug consumption habits, and if I liked Lebanon. I made myself small and obedient, and asked if I could call my embassy. A question I kept repeating throughout the night about a dozen times, getting the same answer each time ‘fifteen minutes’. In the time being, I was pushed into a cell. Behind the barriers, I could see the terrified faces of both my friends. A young guy opened the door, pushed me inside, and as he closed the door, he looked at me smiling and said ‘Welcome to Lebanon’. Feeling totally done for, I started to scream with my hands gripped to the bars, saying I had the right to speak to my embassy. I was answered with a bellowing cry, which my friends translated, to shut the hell up.

It was time to accept that this cell was going to be my room for the night. Against the humid and grainy floor, dozens of men and adolescents, laid down. We timidly took our places next to them, and they kindly gave us big blankets. The hour was not one of hygiene. The Turkish toilets were less than a metre from my head. Engulfing myself under the blanket, I saw a sticker entitled ‘High Commission of the United Nations for Refugees’. What a journey this blanket had gone on! Curled up in a corner of the cell, I was in a secondary state of total uncertainty. Again, we needed to stick to the simple things: sleep. The jailor was watching television all night, a light in the cell stayed on all night too, right above our heads. At a certain point in time, a plastic bag full of bread was thrown between the barriers and fell straight on my head. I opened my eyes in shock: it was true, I was still stuck in a prison cell in Tripoli.

Ariel

Weeddings ; The trippy marriages.

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Las Vegas, sin city, is now open to cannabis smokers. As Business goes, it now hosts the largest stoner’s supermarket in the world called Nuwu. It has over 1500 square metres of products.
Las Vegas is also known for its picturesque weddings with often unforeseen consequences. Last minute weddings, which now have their own herbal clause.Here is a brief guide to Weeddings, to the attention of the future married, voluntarily or not. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.

If you are looking for a lightening fast wedding, you can make your way to Cannabis Chapel at 700 East Naples Drive, two steps away from the Hard Rock Café Casino of Vegas. This secular church is open to all smokers since the 5th july 2017, the day of cannabis legalisation in Nevada.
For the small sum of 104 dollars, you could unite in a green setting, accompanied by reggae music. Not the most original music ambiance, but it is also possible to choose your own playlist.
A photo in front of the ‘Welcome to Cannabis’ sign is scheduled with the happy couple, with a bouquet made of hemp silk.
In order for the marriage to be legally viable, a witness is also provided for the married couples who are in a rush, or who wish to stay away from prying eyes.
The fashion of speed weddings has led to the marriages of celebrities like Britney Spears, or more recently Nicolas Cage, who had his marriage annulled after only 24 days.

A story so frequent, that it is definitely engraved in American pop-culture.

We can find this tradition in ‘The Hangover’ in which one of the the characters wakes up married to a stripper. Or in an episode of Family Guy, where this time, the character is stuck with a prostitute after a night of excess. If you are not convinced by this cheap option, a premium version is also available.

For 710 dollars you get a few extras: a limousine tour through town with champagne and nibbles, and an hour of photos with a professional photographer. The ‘red-eye’ filter will never have been more useful.

If you are a bit tired after so much smoking, don’t worry, a night in the 420 suite awaits. Yet another weed friendly room decorated with green plants. Last but not least, you will be given a medical card, reserved to patients who need the benefits of cannabis.
This ‘package’ is even funnier when you think that it is ‘theoretically’ illegal to smoke in hotel rooms in Las Vegas, and ‘theoretically’ doctors are only supposed to prescribe these cards to people who have valid medical needs for cannabis.
In Vice City, it is well known, everything can be bought for the right price. Just watch out to not lose all your money in casinos, a perilous place when you’re too high to play in moderation. The author of this article fondly remembers his stay at the Deauville Casino.

Mike Teevee

Tripoli Express #1

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Ariel, our correspondent in Lebanon, has divided his last, fascinating adventure to Beirut into 3 papers. Buckle up, here is the first episode of Tripoli Express.

Everything had started so well. It was the last week end of February, I was in a big, black Chevrolet that was being driven by my friend Karim, and Antoine was to his right.
Through the tainted window, I watched the snowy mountains of Tannourine and gently sighed. We had just finished an exceptional session of hors-piste skiing. Two hours of ascent by foot, with a hangover, with ski-boots and skis on our backs, in the bright sun, had knackered me out. But the descent, on thick, pristine snow, was worth the effort. Anyways, I was shattered and lazying about in the car that was taking me home to Beirut. Since we were driving in a deserted part of Lebanon, Antoine made the most of it to roll a joint. Karim passed him a ball of hasch. According to him, there would be no one around, there was no risk. Rejoiced by this perspective of smoking after an intense effort, I decided to trust Karim and Antoine. After all, they were Lebanese, not me…

Hours later, after a long lunch in the costal town of Batroun, the motorway was engulfed by the night. Lying down on the back seats, I was sleeping deeply. In Lebanon, there are a number of military checkpoints in several areas, especially on the most important roads. It’s just how it is, nobody really explains why, we just roll with it. It is a security measure inherited from the violent past of the country. A custom says that auto-motorists acknowledge the soldiers and say ‘good luck’ when they pass the checkpoint. It was this ‘good luck’ pronounced by Karim that woke me up. The soldier looked through the window of the driver’s side and inspected the car with an inquisitive air. What could he see? Three guys, in a car, who cried ‘money’, and a rosary attached to the mirror. Without saying a word, he told Karim to get into the right hand lane, instead of letting us be on our way.

The car was now stopped in this right-hand lane, the soldier asked for our papers. We duly obliged. The way he stared at me whilst he was flipping through my French passport left me perplexed: He looked surprise, scared and disgusted. I kept my calm. I could have been in Paris, being frisked by a potbellied and aggressive policeman.  The type of guy you just now compensates for his thousands of frustrations with his uniform and baton. Except now it was the Lebanese military. Suddenly, without apparent reason, he told Karim to get out of the car. This guy looked like he wanted to fight. Maybe he’d had a rubbish day – he made us get out of the car too.

He started a full search on Karim, but he didn’t need to look far. Cruel lack of attention or stupid excess of confidence, Karim had left a miniscule ball of hasch in his jean pocket. The soldier held it in his hands, between his index and thumb, and a huge smile appeared on his face. He called his fellow soldiers, like you would call your mates to show them something funny. He was all excited, bubbling. An other soldier arrived, he didn’t have the same empty stare as his colleague. Everything of his, his slim figure, his frowning eyebrows, his strong posture, seemed more serious. It was him that frisked me. I had to get undressed on the side of the motorway, opposite shocked drivers that passed by. Once I was in my boxers, the soldier took my bag and emptied it on the floor. It was with an empty feeling in my stomach that I saw my papers fall out of the bag. The soldier told me to get dressed and pushed the papers in my face, clenching his jaw.

Until then, little words had been exchanged, and everything had been said in Arabic without me looking to understand, even though my friends could have translated. The two soldiers escorted us towards a small house, alone next the motorway. Inside, there was nothing apart from two wooden benches and a desk, an overflowing ashtray and a few scribbles of Arabic on pieces of paper. A private military display took place before my eyes. Different soldiers arrived one by one into the room, my friends and I were completely silent. I was grinning foolishly to relax the atmosphere and tried to reassure my friends: I told them this reminded me of ‘garde à vue’ in Paris. I was less cocky when a new soldier disrupted the silence while clinking a pair of handcuffs together around his index.

To our great relief, his superior screamed at him to calm down and put away the cuffs. Another soldier held our IDs and was methodically copying the details to a piece of paper. Quickly, there were up to 10 soldiers in the room. When they addressed me, my friends seemed embarrassed and avoided translating. They were mocking, the fact that I was a foreigner seemed to crack them up. When the sitting soldier had finished taking his notes, he told the others to get out. I was getting bored, the cold wind was whistling through the room, it was almost over, I repeated this to myself.

He got up from his chair, organised his papers then put them away. He took 3 pairs of cuffs and walked towards me. He put out his hands, parallel, inciting me to do the same. I did as told. Reduce to passiveness and absolute incomprehension, I fixed my wrists that were suddenly inside two metallic rings, flamboyantly new with the chain that connected them. My cuffed hands fascinated me, and my thoughts stumbled. When you’re thrown into the unknown, there’s nothing to think. I was living an unavoidable scene of every police film. Unluckily for me, I was not in a film. I had sincerely misevaluated the nature of the situation I was in.

To be continued…

Ariel.

Daddy, pass the spliff !

2019 is a wonderful year.
While Donal Trump brags about the fact that he would be interested in Ivanka if she was not his daughter, there is a sudden uprising among the American press… This time concerning a photograph of Snoop Dogg smoking a joint with his son Corde Calvin Broadus. The rapper, which is currently one of the greatest icons in the world of weed, has added fuel to the flame by saying that “he was learning with the master”. Therefore, the following simple question is raised: can weed smokers be good parents?

Therefore, the following simple question is raised: can weed smokers be good parents?
I have never had children and I have no intention of having any. Too many responsibilities. Hence, I have always been intrigued by these parents that smoke, fathers and mothers that are cool and have busy lives. Throughout the course of my interviews, there were two ideas that were brought up systematically   in order to bring together the role of the educator and the love for weed:

The safety distance
Lionel,, father of a young child has somewhat reduced his weed consumption. He now only consumes for recreational purposes, when the house is finally quiet. As we share a joint on his balcony, he says: “I do not smoke inside anymore to prevent smoking out the baby.” A safety distance as a barrier, an idea that seems obvious, but that, ironically, has never been respected by the generations of cigarette smokers (my asthma can attest to that).
A precautionary principle that he complements with his personal touch: “I keep mu weed in a hermetically sealed box, out of her reach, I don’t want her to play with it”. As his daughter starts crying, he hands me the rest of the joint to go take care of her.

The critical thinking
The second idea that systematically comes up is the critical thinking.
I have long been one of Thierry’s guests, a friend from Bordeaux, father of three. The oldest of his children is the only one to smoke from time to time, when she is not working on her thesis. The youngest one is a bright kid, with whom I used to play Smash Bros with. He isn’t too interested by cannabis, however, he enjoyed mocking my lack of reflexes when I smoked too much. The absence of any fascination that comes from an exchange free of taboos: “I have always told my kids about everything concerning my consumption, it would not be wise to lie about it. A Corona, a joint and a Star Trek episode is heaven for me, I have no intention of hiding that.”An open exchange that allows the parents to be themselves without falling into a relationship of “parent-friend”.

Coming back to Snoop Dogg, it is important to note that his 18 year-old son has only lit his first joint recently and that he has a formal prohibition of driving under the influence.

I therefore leave the last words to this “disgraceful father”:

My children can do what they like. Telling them the opposite would be absurd. A whole lot of pricks don’t have any relationship with their children, that’s why some kids end up using, having suicidal thoughts and drunk-driving. My son and I enjoy being stoned. I am his father, I want to show him the right way to do it because he admires me.”

 

Mike Teevee

 

 

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