Posts Tagged ‘Skunk’

Horizon: Cannabis: The Evil Weed?

February 4, 2009

skunk

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.

Knocked Up

September 21, 2007

Knocked Up 

So much has been written about this marginally-above-average comedy that it feels slightly slack to even make any effort proffering an opinion, paradoxically enough.

Peter Bradshaw, who usually writes like a misery having double-dropped a curmudgeon-capsule gave it a four out of five. That seems excessive, as does his praising the subtlety on display in this really quite shallow film. Despite a superficial liberal dusting of equal rights recognition, this isn’t really a subtle piece.

Andrew Collins wrote a blog here praising the film while Joe Queenan wrote this article in the Guardian, the latter of which seems to border on the hysterically PC, if you ask me.

I don’t agree with any of them, to be honest. But as I can barely be arsed and because so much has already been said, here are some bullet-pointed opinions from the back of my brain. I’ve tried to avoid spoilers.

  • This is watchable in a Look Who’s Talking, Happy Gilmore kind of a way. By that I mean, worth watching once then forgetting.
  • There are plenty of half-decent jokes. I didn’t laugh out loud but I smiled at points.
  • A barrier to enjoyment was Seth Rogan’s character – Ben Stone, a 23 year old stoner.
  • Inexplicably he’s managed to live on 12 grand (in US Dollars) for 10 years. Is it just me, or do the maths not add up there? Six grand (in English quid) lasts 10 years? Even without rent to pay and eating a lot pasta, nobody can keep a serious skunk habit alive on that.
  • He’s 23 and hasn’t had a job, ever. Yet when the trite phase of Seth’s having to face his responsibilities comes around he lands a decent-looking job and gets an amazing flat, straight away.
  • He’s a twat. Yes, he may have got the girl into bed, but he would never, never have got her. Like, really got her.
  • The stoner sequences are typically American and cheesy. Why do Americans act like such dicks when they’re caned?
  • The mushroom sequence was pretty good.
  • All the ethnic minorities, jewish folk aside, were stereotypical. Giggly oriental girl – check. Over-authoritative oriental man – check. Sex obsessed black man – check.
  • It went on for way, way too long.
  • The ‘crowning’ special effect was sanitised. I’ve seen videos of real childbirth and it’s a lot more sticky, blue, red and mushy than that looked.

Rather than stump up for a cinema ticket, I’d spend your hard-earned on some of the weed Ben’s smoking. It must be dirt cheap for him to realistically afford it.