Hooray! Wacky baccy!
But is it really so wacky? Or is it, in fact, the trigger that unleashes all kinds of fresh madness? Why do some folk have a toke and find they remain an average bloke? How come some dumb-dumbs fill a lung and turn into voice-hearing bums?
Horizon decided to seek answers, last night with their enquiry, Cannabis: The Evil Weed? They turned to that flaky, unreliable thing we call science to help them out.
I tuned into this expecting yet more anti-weed propaganda and was pleasantly surprised. After an informative opening in which we learned that cannabis first evolved in Kazakhstan, developing THC to protect against ultra-violet light, there was futher explanation of how the chemical make-up affects the brain which was more extensive than any documentary I’ve seen on the BBC on the topic before.
That’s not that impressive, however, when you consider that the only item on this subject I’ve seen the BBC handle before was Michael Buerk’s hilariously sensational treatment on 999 – where the treatment of bong-discovery was akin to the uncovering of a decomposing five-year old, in a gritty black and white reconstruction.
Credit to John Marsden, he constantly reiterated that the really serious side-effects were only present in a tiny minority of early-adopters, but all the same, the editorial decision to include the story of ‘John’ from Manchester was a mistake.
Completely incomparable to the sad story of one young lad who developed schizophrenia (which merited inclusion), this psychologically-addicted John character was pictured complaining about how he can’t get a girlfriend or a job because of his spliff-habit.
He said, at one point, that he’s smoking ten joints a day – but when the camera caught the sight of the flapping rizla-mess between his fingers, it was apparent that he can’t even roll a bloody bifta. Also, the fact that his flat was plush and his clothing quite smart in conjunction with the assertion that he’s supposedly frittering away at least a tenner on skunk a day, it made it impossible to believe that his case actually exists. And even if it did, all he needs is a good talking to. Weed’s not the problem – he is.
The ultimate irony of the show, which served to demonstrate that there’s far more to this plant than the press let on, is that cannabis houses an anti-psychotic which sits naturally alongside the THC – which balances the potential for psychosis. So if it was harvested properly, away from the black market, it could actually be used to treat those who went mad because of it. It’s enough to fog your head.
Anyway – it’s a sad day for me – I’m having to give up writing this blog. The skunk’s taken over my life and I’m selling my computer to get a bumper pack of Golden Virginia. I’ve pimped the missus out so I can get my grimy fingers on some hash and, by the time you’ve read this, I’ll be injecting green skunky serum into my eyes with John and his mate, Michael Phelps.
Goodbye, friends.
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