Steven Wishnia

Seven Questions the 'Senate Cannabis Committee' Should Ask the Obama Administration

The Senate Judiciary Committee’s hearings on the conflict between state and federal marijuana laws, scheduled for Sept. 10 and led by Sen. Patrick Leahy (D-VT), have been hailed as “unprecedented.” Deputy Attorney General James Cole’s Aug. 29 memorandum to federal attorneys, advising that prosecuting cannabis businesses legal under state law should only be a priority if they commit other offenses such as selling to minors, has also been hailed as a major step towards legalization.

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Why Is There So Much Hate for Working People?

When workers in California’s Bay Area Rapid Transit system (BART) went on strike for five days in early July (they hadn’t gotten a raise in four years), it set off a wave of antilabor vitriol on the Internet.

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How the Nation's Most Dysfunctional State Government Blocked Medical Marijuana (And Campaign Finance Reform)

Earlier this year, New York looked poised to become the 19th state to legalize medical marijuana. The state Assembly passed a bill by a 99-41 margin June 3. A Quinnipiac poll taken that week indicated that 70 percent of New Yorkers supported the idea. And in the state Senate, the Republicans who had blocked medical-marijuana measures the three times they’d passed the Assembly now retained power only by allying with five renegade Democrats—one of whom, Diane Savino of Staten Island, was the bill’s sponsor. Savino repeatedly said she believed she had enough votes to pass the bill, and would bring it to the floor when the right time came.

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The Most Dishonest Words in American Politics: 'Right to Work'

“Right to work” is the most dishonest phrase in American political discourse. It sounds like it’s defending people’s right to earn a living. But as used by its supporters, it means making it impossible for workers to form an effective union, couched in the language of “freedom” and “choice.”

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How Govt. Crack Downs on Drug Prescriptions Can Backfire Spectacularly and Kill Privacy

If you get a prescription for Vicodin or Valium, Xanax or OxyContin, it almost certainly gets recorded in a government database. Almost every state now has a “prescription drug monitoring program" (PDMP), a registry listing every patient who was prescribed a drug scheduled in the federal Controlled Substances Act. According to the National Alliance for Model State Drug Laws, a federally funded nonprofit group that designs drug laws and urges states to enact them, 43 states have such programs, most established in the last decade, and six more are in the process of setting them up. The only exceptions are Missouri and Washington, DC. 

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Hemp Is Harmless, a Potential Economic Miracle, and Still Illegal in America -- But the Tide Seems to Be Turning

The American hemp industry, revived in the 1990s in a wave of cannabis-fueled environmentalism, now sells $450 million a year of products from hemp-oil soap to hemp-coned speakers for guitar amplifiers, according to an industry trade group. Yet all the raw material used for these products, from fiber to hempseed oil, has to be imported, as it’s still illegal to grow hemp in the United States.

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Federal Court Denies Lawsuit Claiming Marijuana's Medical Benefits

Preserving the main legal barrier to medical marijuana, a federal appeals court on Jan. 22 rejected a lawsuit intended to force the Drug Enforcement Administration to move marijuana out of Schedule I, the federal law that classifies marijuana as a dangerous drug with no valid medical use.

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Legalize It! Historic Night for Marijuana Reform as Colorado and Washington Take the Big Step

In an unprecedented popular vote, Colorado and Washington have approved ballot initiatives to legalize the sale of marijuana under regulations somewhat stricter than those for alcohol.

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11 Enemies of Marijuana Legalization

In 1990, Los Angeles Police Chief Daryl Gates told a Senate committee that people who smoked pot occasionally “ought to be taken out and shot.” That kind of fanaticism, which dominated the debate on drugs 20 years ago, seems to have faded. Today’s politicians are more likely to dismiss cannabis concerns as “not serious” than to rail against the demons of dope—but the powers that be are still bent on keeping pot illegal. U.S. cops bust an average of almost 100 people every hour for pot, and an array of think tanks and nonprofit groups continues to pump out prohibitionist propaganda.

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Powerful Court Quietly Takes Marijuana Case That Could Shatter Federal Prohibition Laws

Once again, medical-marijuana advocates are taking to the courts to eliminate the biggest barrier to legal use—the federal law that classifies marijuana as a dangerous drug with no valid medical use. 

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Temp Worker Nation: If You Do Get Hired, It Might Not Be for Long

Almost one-third of American workers now do some kind of freelance work, and they lack almost every kind of economic security that permanent full-time workers traditionally have had. Though exact figures are impossible to find, many experts and labor organizers estimate that about 30 percent of U.S. workers are “contingent.” That means they don’t have a permanent job. They work as freelancers, temporary workers, on contract, or on call, or their employers define them (often illegally) as “independent contractors.”

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The Truth About Drug-Testing the Unemployed

The new federal law that lets states drug-test applicants for unemployment compensation was a small win for the Republican-led efforts to examine the urine of everyone receiving government safety-net benefits. How many people it will affect depends on how the Department of Labor establishes the regulations—and on whether the courts continue to hold that such policies violate the Constitution’s protection against unreasonable searches.

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Is the Era of Nuclear Power Coming to an End in the US?

Nearly one year after the Fukushima disaster, 23 nuclear power plants of the same model are still operating in the United States, many of them pushing 40 years old -- and despite the risks they pose, a recent federal court decision will make it harder for states to close them down.

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Hypocritical NYPD Continues Racist Pot Arrest Crusade

 Despite a well-publicized police order instructing officers not to use bogus pretexts to justify marijuana arrests, New York City remains the pot-bust capital of the United States. 

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Two Big Decisions Loom on the Fate of Drinking Water for 15 Million People Living Near the Marcellus Shale

The fate of fracking in the Northeast may be determined soon.

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Is Marijuana Addictive?

 Is marijuana addictive?

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Dedicated Pot Crusaders Already Licking Their Chops for the Next Opportunity to Legalize

OAKLAND—California’s pot-legalization initiative went down to defeat last night, but supporters say it came close enough to try again.

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Progressive Politics Gets a Boost in New York

While right-wing multimillionaire Carl Paladino's win over former Rep. Rick Lazio in New York's Republican gubernatorial primary attracted most of the media attention, progressives scored victories in key races lower down on the Democratic side.

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Is Big Pharma Trying to Take All the Fun out of Pot?

Pricey pharmaceutical-marketing newsletters have touted cannabis-derived drugs as the next blockbuster for the industry, but the biggest companies are primarily researching drugs whose effect is the opposite of the cannabis herb.

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New York Lightens Up on Some of the Harshest Drug Laws in the Country

New York State is about to enact major changes in its Rockefeller drug laws, which contain some of the harshest mandatory-minimum sentences in the nation. The activists who've been trying to repeal those laws for years say it's a very welcome move but doesn't go far enough.

"I think it's a really positive step forward. It is not the end of the Rockefeller drug laws, but hopefully, it's the beginning of the end," says Caitlin Dunklee of the Drop the Rock campaign, an umbrella group campaigning to repeal the laws.

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Protesters Take Their Outrage to Wall Street

Enraged by the prospect of $700 billion of their taxes going to reimburse Wall Street speculators for their dubious investments, about 500 protesters paraded through Lower Manhattan's financial district Thursday afternoon, their chants of "You broke it, you bought it" reverberating through the narrow office building canyons and off the flag-draped wall of the New York Stock Exchange.

"I'm outraged," said Linda Greco, a 40-ish Brooklyn woman. "People are losing their homes. There's homeless people all over the city. The schools are falling apart. And they want to bail these pigs out? It's about time the people of this country woke up and took this country back."

Like many others, Greco learned about the protest from an e-mail tree that sprouted like kudzu on methamphetamine. "I must have gotten 10 to 20," she said.

The demonstration originated with an e-mail sent out Monday afternoon by Arun Gupta, an editor at the leftist Indypendent. "They said providing health care for 9 million children, perhaps costing $6 billion a year, was too expensive, but there's evidently no sum of money large enough that will sate the Wall Street pigs," it read. "We need to act now while we can influence the debate. With Bear Stearns, Fannie and Freddie, AIG, the money markets and now this omnibus bailout, well in excess of $1 trillion will be distributed from the poor, workers and middle class to the scum floating on top? Let the bondholders pay, let the banks pay, let those who brought the 'toxic' mortgage-backed securities pay!"

"It tapped into an enormous reservoir of anger," Gupta told the crowd that gathered at the bull statue on Bowling Green. The e-mail inspired similar protests in almost 200 cities and towns, from Greensboro, N.C., to Henderson, Nev. Though phone calls and e-mails to Congress have been running nearly 1,000 to 1 against the bailout, he added, "it's clear that the fix is in."

"It's out-fuckin-rageous. They expect the public to bail them out?" said Rich Haber, 61, a retired Brooklyn bus driver. "I worked for the Transit Authority for 27 years, and I can't afford a house. I knew these mortgages were bogus."

Others offered similar vitriol. "Appalling," said Kate Powers, 39, an Obama supporter from Brooklyn. "Ridiculous," said Laura Skove, an 18-year-old student in an Obama T-shirt. "The government can't spend money on health care, but it can on Wall Street." "Highway robbery," said Annie V., part of a group holding up signs reading "N.Y. to Wall St. and the Bush Adm.: Drop Dead" -- echoing the legendary "FORD TO CITY: DROP DEAD" headline the Daily News ran in 1975 when then-President Gerald Ford refused to bail out debt-ridden New York City.

That fiscal crisis ended when the banks imposed harsh budget austerity on New York, forcing it to raise the subway fare by 43 percent while virtually eliminating maintenance, lay off police and close firehouses during an epidemic of crime and arson, and slash funding for schools and hospitals.

"They've been allowed to totally screw up and then get bailed out. I want to strangle every single politician," said Kevin Condon, a 30-year-old farm-stand worker from Brooklyn carrying a "Jump Without Your Golden Parachute" sign. Though he doesn't want to see the economy collapse, he said the crisis is an opportunity to dream of a different system, of smaller, more locally based commerce.

"Why isn't everyone in the street?" wondered Megan Fulton, 26, a Brooklyn graduate student. She held a sign asking the government to bail her out for the $93,000 she owes in student loans.

Older protesters had a feeling of deja vu. Davida Joyner, 51, of Harlem worked helping tenants administer abandoned buildings during the 1970s, then suffered a brain tumor and was out of commission for 20 years. "I woke up like Rumpelstiltskin," she said. "I saw all of this housing situation become unbelievable again." Sol McCants, 54, recalled the stock-market and savings-and-loan scams of the 1980s.

"These people are thieves and belong in jail," he said. "McCain's trying to make it look like he's doing a great thing, but he's not. That scumbag doesn't want to face the questions because he was behind the savings and loans."

The best thing that might come out of this crisis, he added, is that white voters might learn to "see their pockets" instead of blaming black and brown people for their problems. But if Obama is elected, people will have to nag him "like my wife tells me every other night to put the toilet seat down."

"I don't think the Democrats are much better," said Eva-Lee Baird, 68, of the Granny Peace Brigade -- noting that many of the Depression-era controls on imprudent investments were taken away under Bill Clinton.

"We need something like the New Deal," said James Trimarco, 30, of Brooklyn. "Put people to work doing actual stuff -- transportation and the environment -- instead of trading fictitious capital around the world."

Though Lower Manhattan is one of the most heavily locked down areas in the country -- the Stock Exchange is surrounded by an iron fence, the closest subway exit is barricaded off, and surrounding streets have concrete stanchions and raised metal sheets to block traffic, with guards and dogs in booths watching them -- police presence at the demonstration was surprisingly light, especially by the draconian standards of the Giuliani-Bloomberg era.

Gupta attributed that to the "media feeding frenzy" surrounding the protest. "You think that while those fuckers are debating in D.C., they want pictures of protesters being beaten by cops being beamed around the world?" he asked.

Many Wall Street types greeted the protesters with contempt. "Just look at these people," sneered one broker as the march neared the Stock Exchange. Another group held a "Get a Job" sign in an office window, and one man dropped a few dollar bills out of his. They fluttered down short of the marchers, landing in a construction site.

Such contempt from the upper classes is nothing new to the lowly proles of Gotham. On Broadway near Wall Street is a stone slab commemorating billionaire real estate developer Harry B. Helmsley, "whose richness of spirit and love for New York helped build this great city." New Yorkers of a certain age and level of cynicism are more likely to remember Helmsley's late widow, Leona, a hotel magnate nicknamed the "Queen of Mean."

She achieved notoriety by leaving $12 million to her dogs -- more than she left to any of her grandchildren -- and telling her housekeeper that "We don't pay taxes. Only the little people pay taxes."

What Happens When You Put 300 Experts on Psychedelics in the Same Room?

The waves of mass psychedelic utopianism have come and gone, but the hippie movement of the late '60s echoes in the rave scene of the '90s. And there's a small but devoted community of scientists, spiritual seekers, artists and grown-up hedonists exploring the value of these drugs.

The "Horizons: Perspectives on Psychedelics" conference, held in New York Sept. 19-21, sought to present an older and wiser psychedelic movement, focusing on medicine, art, spirituality and culture. It drew around 300 people, a mix of academic and hippie types, with the white button-down shirts slightly outnumbering the dreadlocks and the NASA T-shirts.

Psychedelics are "the most powerful psychiatric medicine ever devised," said psychotherapist Neal Goldsmith, who curated the speakers. But because the way they work as medicine -- when used in the proper setting -- is by generating mystical experiences, "science has to expand." Solid research, he added, could change government policy, which classifies psychedelics as dangerous drugs with no accepted medical use.

The most promising current medical research, said Rick Doblin of the Multidisciplinary Association for Psychedelic Studies, is in coupling MDMA (Ecstasy) with intensive psychotherapy to treat post-traumatic stress disorder. Preliminary studies, he said, have had "very encouraging results" with patients who did not respond to talk therapy and conventional medications.

The group hopes to win FDA approval within 10 years. But pharmaceutical companies aren't interested -- the MDMA molecule is in the public domain, the number of pills used in the therapy is unprofitably low, and the drug is controversial. So the model for developing it, Doblin said, will probably be along the lines of Planned Parenthood's support for RU486.

The lines between disciplines were often blurred at the conference. Purdue University pharmacologist David Nichols called himself a "reductionist scientist" but said it's fantastic that one-tenth of a milligram of a drug can stay in the brain for four hours and permanently change someone's worldview. Artist Alex Grey showed slides of his tripping-inspired paintings and videos of iridescent, morphing eyes, fish and worms, presenting them as signals from a "visionary culture" that seeks to redeem the world, with a "group soul" supplanting a culture that spends $38 billion a second on war. Artists, said animator Isaiah Saxon, can fill the role of the shaman in an industrial society that has no other space for it.

Spirituality is a key point for many users. Gabrielle, a 32-year-old mother of two, said tripping makes her lose her ego and become a part of something greater. "Nature wants us to understand we're all equal," she said, recalling an ayahuasca experience in a California forest during which she saw screens of intricate, fine-colored strings and watched the redwoods rejoice when the life-giving fog rolled in. When you realize your part in the universe, said Craig Reuter, 25, you become aware of how responsible you are for your actions, because "everything you do ripples out like drops of water in a giant pond of existence." Sue, a 45-year-old teacher, said psychedelics help her become introspective, to focus on right-brain imagery instead of the language/verbal domain.

Canadian psychoanalyst Dan Merkur listed five ways in which cultures have used psychedelics for spiritual transformation: the "mass religious revival" of the hippies; the training of religious specialists such as shamen; group ritual use such as indigenous ayahuasca and peyote ceremonies; initiation rites such as the use of ibogaine by the Bwiti of Gabon; and their more recent Western use in therapy. Some former heroin users have reported success in using ibogaine to treat their addiction.

Sasha and Ann Shulgin, the authors of PIHKAL (Phenylethylamines I Have Known and Loved) and TIHKAL (Tryptamines I Have Known and Loved), are cult figures in the psychedelic world. Sasha Shulgin, a white-bearded chemist, develops psychedelics in his lab. Ann, his wife, joins him in taking them, and their books catalog the drugs' effects. They deflected the crowd's adulation with dry humor, saying that while tripping can be great for feeling like one being during sex, they don't see the same images.

"I'm not a regular drug user," Sasha answered when asked what his favorite chemical was. "Except for red wine," his wife interjected.

Ann Shulgin, a lay therapist, cautioned that taking MDMA more than four times a year undermines the drug's magic. Though it's a wonderful drug for therapy, she said, it's selfish and wasteful for therapists to take it during a session. "You have to pay attention to the patient's insight," she explained.

Such caution was a main theme of the conference. Doblin counseled that "patience is the fastest way" to get drugs like MDMA accepted as legitimate medicine. If proponents of psychedelics want to forestall a backlash, he said, they need to avoid the mistakes of the past, such as when Timothy Leary huckstered LSD as a hedonistic cultural panacea. (Leary told Playboy in 1966 that "in a carefully prepared, loving LSD session, a woman will inevitably have several hundred orgasms.")

In 1961, Doblin noted, Harvard psychology professor David McClelland warned of several disturbing elements in Leary's psilocybin project. The emphasis on mysticism could lead to withdrawal from society. The initiates often acted superior to those who had never tripped. Their feelings of cosmic oneness with humanity didn't stop them from being insensitive to individuals. Their faith in the omnipotence of thought denied reality. And their spontaneity was a good thing, but not when it also spawned irresponsibility.

Saxon, who collaborated on the animation for Bjork's "Wanderlust" video, creating a three-dimensional Arctic dreamscape of grassy tundra, tendril-filled streams and prehistoric-looking bighorn sheep, said he'd taken psilocybin while conceiving the video, but not while actually executing it. And though Alex Grey and his wife, Allyson, suggested using psychedelics in rituals to initiate teenagers into adulthood, they also warned, "you want to have an ego before you try transcending it."

Several speakers stated flatly that they were not interested in recreational use. But many people at the conference never would have connected to the more serious aspects of psychedelia otherwise. Brian Jackson, 36, an audio engineer and musician, says he hasn't tripped in a long time, partly because New York City is "not a very conducive environment" for it and partly because he outgrew the rave scene, but that getting high on psychedelics moved him to consider their medical possibilities and act against prohibition. Author Daniel Pinchbeck said the lines between recreational and spiritual use are not necessarily clear, and that rave-style partying can lead to "group bonding."

Saxon probably had the most cogent line on the question: "On a large dose, you don't have control of whether it's recreational."

What would be the social consequences of a psychedelic renaissance? If Leary was right, religious-psychology specialist Robert Forte posited, drugs like LSD could make people less susceptible to far-right propaganda, because they feel a "sea of love."

On the other hand, although washing away your normal sense of reality for a while can be enlightening, abandoning your normal rational skepticism can be dangerous in a society full of capitalist, religious and political mind scams -- especially those that come in a "countercultural" or "anti-Establishment" package.

In the conference's closing session, Pinchbeck suggested that the current renaissance in psychedelic culture came about because Saturn was at right angles to Pluto. And when one audience member asked who doubted the "official 9/11 story," more than half the crowd raised their hands. Forte then began spouting a mix of 9/11 conspiracy theory and erroneous Holocaust history -- and confessed that Albert Hofmann, the Swiss chemist who discovered the effects of LSD in 1943, had told him shortly before his death that he thought the Jews had been behind the attacks.

While getting out of the verbal, logical realm and into the intuitive can also be stimulating, the advertising industry has spent more than half a century refining ways to exploit people's sensitivity to visual, symbolic stimuli. There are breath-mint commercials that explode in images as trippy as anything in the Fillmore Auditorium light shows of 1968.

Ultimately, however, all that just reinforces that psychedelics are a powerful tool, not a panacea. Though the Fender Stratocaster guitar and the Marshall amplifier are masterpieces of sonic technology, buying them isn't going to enable you to play like Jimi Hendrix unless you also have a lot of talent, experience and soul.

"I think time evens all this out," said Goldsmith. "There is just as much need for paradigm-breaking, innovative thinking, as there is to rein in the nonsense."

In an 2007 essay titled "The Ten Lessons of Psychedelic Psychotherapy, Rediscovered," Goldsmith posited a "poetry science," a "worldview that can accommodate shamanic states and quantum mechanics." Integrating the communal spirituality of tribalism and the objective observations of modernity, this would comprehend human consciousness as a complex synthesis of the quantifiable realm of neurochemical reactions and the ineffable world of thoughts and emotions, a natural miracle far greater than the sum of its parts.

Will Pot Ever Be Legal in This Schizoid Country?

Marijuana occupies a bizarrely paradoxical place in American culture. Its use is widespread, commonplace among the young and ubiquitous in popular culture. Yet it remains highly illegal, and talk of legalization is usually deemed political suicide.

Here are five signs that pot should be legal soon -- and five reasons why it probably won't.

1. Pot is indelibly a part of the cultural mainstream. The stoner comedy Harold and Kumar Escape from Guantanamo Bay grossed $14.6 million in its first weekend, making it the second most popular movie in the country. Most pro basketball players blaze, according to sources as diverse as the ganjaphile Mavericks player Josh Howard and the anti-drug ex-Knick Charles Oakley. And on April 20, thousands of revelers turned out at the University of Colorado and the University of California at Santa Cruz to celebrate the 4/20 herb holiday.

As of 2002, notes Keith Stroup, legal counsel with the National Organization for the Reform of Marijuana Laws, 47 percent of American adults had smoked marijuana at some time in their lives, according to a CNN/Time poll. By today, he adds, "it is likely there are more living Americans who have smoked marijuana than who have not. Approximately 26 million Americans smoked marijuana just in the last year. All of these people know it did not cause them any real harm and that it did not keep them from having a successful life and career."

2. Increased medical acceptance. In February, the American College of Physicians, the second-largest medical organization in the country, urged the federal government to move cannabis out of Schedule I, the category for drugs with no legal medical use, "given marijuana's proven efficacy at treating certain symptoms and its relatively low toxicity." The group also strongly urged legal protections for doctors who prescribe cannabis and patients who use it.

Last year, more than 3,000 articles on cannabinoids were published in scientific journals. These have explored their possible uses for a host of ailments, from easing the pain of arthritis to inhibiting the growth of brain tumors.

The development of vaporization technology -- pricey devices that heat cannabis to a point where the THC can be inhaled, but don't incinerate the plant matter -- has eliminated one of the main reasons for doctors to be uncomfortable about the medical use of cannabis: that smoke contains toxic compounds. "Vaporization of THC offers the rapid onset of symptom relief without the negative effects from smoking," the ACP noted.

3. A federal decriminalization bill was introduced last month. HR 5843, sponsored by Reps. Barney Frank, D-Mass., and Ron Paul, R-Tex., would eliminate federal penalties for possession of less than 100 grams or for the nonprofit transfer of less than one ounce between adults. The bill is the first decriminalization measure introduced in Congress since the early 1980s.

4. The state budget crunch. With the recession battering their treasuries, many states are taking a second look at the price of incarcerating thousands of drug prisoners. Legal cannabis would eliminate the costs of arresting, prosecuting and jailing cannabis users, growers and dealers, and could be a major new source of tax revenue -- especially in states like California, where it is estimated to be the most valuable cash crop. And cannabis farming could revive rural economies, whether by hemp production in the Great Plains or marijuana cultivation in Appalachia.

5. There are no rational arguments against legalizing cannabis under regulations similar to those for alcohol. I've been covering drug issues for almost 20 years (and smoking the green since? Well, I went to Woodstock when I was 14, you do the math), and I haven't heard any. The most common, the "gateway theory" and the idea that today's pot is so much stronger than Woodstock-era weed that it's essentially a different drug, are based on distortion and misinformation. They aren't even valid rebuttable presumptions like "abortion is murder," "the government should not interfere with the free market by regulating rents," or "the U.S. government had to depose Saddam Hussein by any means necessary." And the "send a message to the children" argument is akin to espousing the resurrection of Prohibition because legal alcohol encourages underage drinking.

****

On the other hand, I strongly doubt that cannabis will become legal in the near future, for the following reasons.

1. Pot smokers aren't well organized. According to government surveys, there are about 4 million to 5 million regular marijuana users -- roughly speaking, people who get high at least once a week. The three leading drug-law-reform groups would have a combined mailing list of 35,000 to 55,000 people, estimates NORML executive director Allen St. Pierre. NORML has about 15,000 dues-paying members, 55,000 email subscribers, and 420,000 friends on its Facebook page. The Marijuana Policy Project claims 24,000 members and 180,000 email subscribers. The Drug Policy Alliance has 26,000 members and more than 100,000 email subscribers.

Those numbers are dramatically higher than they were five years ago, but they're still relatively small. MoveOn.org has 3.2 million people on its email list. The National Rifle Association has more than 4 million members.

2. Very few politicians support legalization. About the only nationally known elected officials who advocate full legalization of cannabis are Ron Paul and Rep. Dennis Kucinich, D-Ohio, the two candidates most often derided as fringe lunatics in this year's presidential race. If you stretch the list to include big-city mayors, you'd get Gavin Newsom of San Francisco and the recently retired Rocky Anderson of Salt Lake City. The Frank-Paul decriminalization bill's co-sponsors include both anti-war liberals and far-right semilibertarians, but St. Pierre believes it is unlikely to make it out of committee this year and wouldn't get more than 85 votes if it did. Almost all its supporters represent culturally liberal areas in the far West and Northeast.

"If those of us who currently smoke would take the pledge that we will never again vote for any candidate for public office who supports treating us like criminals, we could end prohibition within a couple of election cycles," says Stroup. But if they did take that pledge, "initially they would frequently only have fringe candidates whom they could support and would have to sit out many major races. So we can't count on most smokers to vote based only on the candidate's position towards treating marijuana smokers like criminals."

3. Marijuana arrests continue at record levels. In 2006, there were 830,000 arrests for marijuana offenses -- almost triple the number of people nabbed in 1991. It was the fourth consecutive year that the number of pot busts set a new record. Of those popped, 89 percent were charged with simple possession.

4. Baby-boomer politicians sold us out. In the 1970s, baby-boomer stoners believed that the laws would inevitably change when the prohibitionist dinosaurs faded out and their generation took over.

Well, among the potheads-turned-politicians of the last 15 years, Bill Clinton signed the law cutting off federal student aid to drug offenders. Clarence Thomas wrote the Supreme Court decision against medical marijuana. Barack Obama now says he is "not interested in legalizing drugs." Al Gore, declaring that he had "put away childish things," came out against legalizing medical marijuana. Newt Gingrich sponsored a bill to execute pot smugglers. George W. Bush (yeah, you expect me to believe that a raging alcoholic with a never-denied taste for cocaine made it through the '70s without a single toke?) has overseen federal crackdowns on headshops, bong-makers, and medical marijuana clinics.

5. We don't live in a rational society. In many ways, American politics haven't changed much from 1928, when people believed that if Al Smith, a Catholic, were elected president, he'd dig a tunnel from the White House to the Vatican, except that now we have the Internet to spread similar rumors. (We didn't have Photoshop in 1927, when Smith dedicated the Holland Tunnel connecting Manhattan and Jersey City.)

We live in a society where politics are dominated by moronic symbolism, where the media ignore government's actual effect on working-class people in favor of pontificating endlessly about the importance of Hillary Clinton knocking back a shot of blended whiskey vs. Obama's abysmal bowling score, where they cast a spoiled senator's son as a "man of the people" because he clears brush and isn't too bright.

We live in a society ruled by fear, where people are willing to accept having the Bill of Rights shredded in the name of fighting drugs or "terrorism."

So it's not surprising that politicians quaver and quail at the idea of supporting a perfectly rational change that would end the legal harassment of millions of Americans. If they did, they'd be damned as "trying to let drug dealers out of jail" and barraged with attack ads accusing them of wanting to sell methamphetamine to 8-year-olds.

There is a very powerful stereotype afoot in much of the population, the belief that anyone "on drugs" is a brutish beast from whom all reason hath fled, a conglomeration of the snapping-at-phantoms temper of a rageball drunk, the stolen-goods appetite of a $500-a-day dope fiend, the self-abasement of a crack addict performing oral sex for a $5 rock, and the casual and calculated sadism of an '80s cocaine kingpin ordaining, "Manolo, choot this piece of chit."

Anyone who knows a pothead knows that this belief is absolutely ludicrous, but it's what sets the tone of American political discourse on drug issues -- or more accurately, almost no one in the political mainstream has the guts to defend drug users by pointing out that it's propaganda.

Debunking the Hemp Conspiracy Theory

Scratch a pothead and ask them why marijuana is outlawed, and there's a good chance you'll get some version of the "hemp conspiracy" theory. Federal pot prohibition, the story goes, resulted from a plot by the Hearst and DuPont business empires to squelch hemp as a possible competitor to wood-pulp paper and nylon. These allegations can be found anywhere from Wikipedia entries on William Randolph Hearst and the DuPont Company to comments on pot-related articles published here on AlterNet. And these allegations are virtually unchallenged; many people fervently believe in the hemp conspiracy, even though the evidence to back it up vaporizes under even minimal scrutiny.

You could make a stronger case for Lee Harvey Oswald as the lone assassin of John F. Kennedy; Oswald at least left a not-quite-smoking gun at the scene.

Pot activist Jack Herer's book The Emperor Wears No Clothes is the prime source for the hemp-conspiracy theory. It alleges that in the mid-1930s, "when the new mechanical hemp fiber stripping machines to conserve hemp's high-cellulose pulp finally became state of the art, available and affordable," Hearst, with enormous holdings in timber acreage and investments in paper manufacturing, "stood to lose billions of dollars and perhaps go bankrupt." Meanwhile, DuPont in 1937 had just patented nylon and "a new sulfate/sulfite process for making paper from wood pulp" -- so "if hemp had not been made illegal, 80 percent of DuPont's business would never have materialized."

Herer, a somewhat cantankerous former marijuana-pipe salesman, deserves a lot of credit for his cannabis activism. He was a dedicated grass-roots agitator for pot legalization during the late 1980s, perhaps the most herb-hostile time in recent history. Despite a substantial stroke in 2001, he soldiers on; he's currently campaigning to get a cannabis-legalization initiative on the ballot in Santa Barbara, California. The Emperor -- an omnivorous conglomeration of newspaper clippings and historical documents about hemp and marijuana, held together by Herer's cannabis evangelism and fiery screeds against prohibition -- has been a bible for many pot activists. Unearthing a 1916 Department of Agriculture bulletin about hemp paper and a World War II short film that exhorted American farmers to grow "Hemp for Victory," Herer more than anyone else revived the idea that the cannabis plant was useful for purposes besides getting high. Unfortunately, he's completely wrong on this particular issue. The evidence for a "hemp conspiracy" just doesn't stand up. It is far more likely that marijuana was outlawed because of racism and cultural warfare.

How marijuana was prohibited

Twentieth-century cannabis prohibition first reared its head in countries where white minorities ruled black majorities: South Africa, where it's known as dagga, banned it in 1911, and Jamaica, then a British colony, outlawed ganja in 1913. They were followed by Canada, Britain and New Zealand, which added cannabis to their lists of illegal narcotics in the 1920s. Canada's pot law was enacted in 1923, several years before there were any reports of people actually smoking it there. It was largely the brainchild of Emily F. Murphy, a feminist but racist judge who wrote anti-Asian, anti-marijuana rants under the pseudonym "Janey Canuck."

In the United States, marijuana prohibition began partly as a throw-in on laws restricting opiates and cocaine to prescription-only use, and partly in Southern and Western states and cities where blacks and Mexican immigrants were smoking it. Missouri outlawed opium and hashish dens in 1889, but did not actually prohibit cannabis until 1935. Massachusetts began restricting cannabis in its 1911 pharmacy law, and three other New England states followed in the next seven years.

California's 1913 narcotics law banned possession of cannabis preparations -- which California NORML head Dale Gieringer believes was a legal error, that the provision was intended to parallel those affecting opium, morphine and cocaine. The law was amended in 1915 to ban the sale of cannabis without a prescription. "Thus hemp pharmaceuticals remained technically legal to sell, but not possess, on prescription!" Gieringer wrote in The Origins of Cannabis Prohibition in California. "There are no grounds to believe that this prohibition was ever enforced, as hemp drugs continued to be prescribed in California for years to come." In 1928, the state began requiring hemp farmers to notify law enforcement about their crops.

New York City made cannabis prescription-only in 1914, part to pre-empt users of over-the-counter opium, morphine and cocaine medicines from switching to cannabis preparations, but with allusions to hashish use by Middle Eastern immigrants. In the West and Southwest, anti-Mexican sentiment quickly came into play. California's first marijuana arrests came in a Mexican neighborhood in Los Angeles in 1914, according to Gieringer, and the Los Angeles Times said "sinister legends of murder, suicide and disaster" surrounded the drug. The city of El Paso, Texas, outlawed reefer in 1915, two years after a Mexican thug, "allegedly crazed by habitual marijuana use," killed a cop. By the time Prohibition was repealed in 1933, 30 states had some form of pot law.

The campaign against cannabis heated up after Repeal. "I wish I could show you what a small marihuana cigaret can do to one of our degenerate Spanish-speaking residents," a Colorado newspaper editor wrote in 1936. "The fatal marihuana cigarette must be recognized as a DEADLY DRUG, and American children must be PROTECTED AGAINST IT," the Hearst newspapers editorialized.

Harry Anslinger, head of the Federal Bureau of Narcotics, headed the charge. "If the hideous monster Frankenstein came face to face with the monster marihuana, he would drop dead of fright," he thundered in 1937.

An ambitious racist (a 1934 memo described an informant as a "ginger-colored nigger") who had previously been federal assistant Prohibition commissioner, Anslinger railed against reefer in magazine articles like 1937's "Marihuana: Assassin of Youth." It featured gory stories like that of Victor Licata, a once "sane, rather quiet young man" from Tampa, Fla., who'd killed his family with an axe in 1933, after becoming "pitifully crazed" from smoking "muggles." (Actually, the Tampa police had tried to have Licata committed to a mental hospital before he started smoking pot.)

Anslinger's other theme was that white girls would be ruined once they'd experienced the lurid pleasures of having a black man's joint in their mouth. "Colored students at the Univ. of Minn. partying with female students (white) smoking and getting their sympathy with stories of racial persecution," he noted. "Result, pregnancy."

In 1937, after a very cursory debate, Congress enacted the Marihuana Tax Act, levying a prohibitive $100-an-ounce tax on cannabis. "I believe in some cases one cigarette might develop a homicidal mania," Anslinger testified in a hearing on the bill.

The case against the "hemp conspiracy"

The hemp-conspiracy theory blames that law on Hearst and DuPont's plot to suppress hemp paper and cloth. The theory is that the invention of a hemp processor known as the "decorticator" made it easier, faster and much more cost-effective to extract hemp fiber from the stalks. In February 1938, Popular Mechanics hailed hemp as the "New Billion Dollar Crop." In response, Hearst and DuPont, scared by the prospect of hemp's resurrection as a competitor for their products, schemed to eliminate the plant.

However, The Emperor makes only three specific claims to support that theory. One is the anti-marijuana propagandizing of the Hearst newspapers. Second, it claims that Anslinger's anti-pot crusade was on behalf of Pittsburgh banker Andrew Mellon, who supposedly was DuPont's "chief financial backer," lending the company the funds it needed to purchase General Motors in the 1920s. And finally, The Emperor argues that DuPont anticipated the Marihuana Tax Act in its 1937 annual report, which worried that the company's future was "clouded with uncertainties" -- specifically about "the extent to which the revenue-raising power of government may be converted into an instrument for forcing acceptance of sudden new ideas of industrial and social reorganization."

None of these claims stand up.

Claim 1: Hearst the propagandist

According to W.A. Swanberg's extensive biography Citizen Hearst, the Hearst chain was actually the nation's largest purchaser of newsprint -- and when the price rose from $40 a ton to over $50 in the late 1930s, he fell so deep in debt to Canadian paper producers and banks that he had to sell his prized art collection to avert foreclosure. "It therefore seems that it would have been in Hearst's interest to promote cheap hemp paper substitutes, had that been a viable alternative," Dale Gieringer wrote in his article, calling the hemp-conspiracy theory "fanciful" and a "myth."

In any case, the Hearst papers never needed hidden self-interest to trumpet fiendish menaces. The expression "yellow journalism" comes from Hearst's campaign for a war against Spain in 1898. And from the 1930s on, his papers were finding RED SUBVERSIVES and PINKO FELLOW-TRAVELERS under every bed. In 1935, a University of Chicago professor accused of being a Communist by the Hearst-owned Herald-Examiner told the Nation that the reporter covering him had admitted, "We do just what the Old Man orders. One week he orders a campaign against rats. The next week he orders a campaign against dope peddlers. Pretty soon he's going to campaign against college professors. It's all the bunk, but orders are orders."

Claim 2: The Anslinger-DuPont Connection
There was an Anslinger-Mellon connection. Anslinger was appointed to head the Bureau of Narcotics by Andrew Mellon, his wife's uncle, who was treasury secretary in the Herbert Hoover administration. However, it's unlikely that DuPont needed to borrow money to buy GM in the 1920s, as the company had done very well as the leading manufacturer of explosives for the Allied forces during World War I.

Historians find no evidence of a DuPont-Mellon connection either. "General Motors was historically associated with the Morgan group during that period," Mark Mizruchi, a professor of sociology and business administration at the University of Michigan, told me in an email interview in 2003. Sociologist G. William Domhoff of the University of California at Santa Cruz, author of Who Rules America?, concurred, saying it was safe to state there was no connection. And in the 440-page tome considered the definitive account of American banking and corporate finance during the Depression era, Mizruchi added, Japanese historian Tian Kang Go does not mention "even the smallest financial connection between DuPont and Mellon."

Claim 3: Dubious DuPont claims

The argument that DuPont's 1937 complaint about federal taxes had anything to do with hemp is an extremely dubious stretch. If the company had been talking about the government eliminating a competitor by levying a prohibitive tax, it wouldn't have been worrying about the uncertainty of foreseeing new federal imposts. It would have been celebrating its newly cleared path. Given the context of the times, it's almost certain that this statement was merely typical 1930s corporate-class whining about the New Deal's social programs and business regulations -- akin to current corporate-class complaints about government "social engineering."


Prohibition's racist history

The belief that marijuana prohibition came about because of the secret machinations of an economic cabal ignores the pattern of every drug-law crusade in American history. From the 19th-century campaigns against opium and alcohol to the crack panic of the 1980s, they have all been fueled by racism and cultural war, conflated with fear of crime and occasionally abetted by well-intentioned reform impulses. (The financial self-interest of the prison-industrial complex has been a more recent development.) The first drug-prohibition laws in the United States were opium bans aimed at Chinese immigrants. San Francisco outlawed opium in 1875, and the state of California followed six years later. In 1886, an Oregon judge ruled that the state's opium prohibition was constitutional even if it proceeded "more from a desire to vex and annoy the 'Heathen Chinee'… than to protect the people from the evil habit," notes Doris Marie Provine in Unequal Under Law: Race in the War on Drugs. In How the Other Half Lives, journalist Jacob Riis wrote of opium-addicted white prostitutes seduced by the "cruel cunning" of Chinese men.

The path to the 1914 federal narcotics law that limited cocaine and opioids to medical use -- and was almost immediately interpreted as prescribing narcotics to addicts -- was more complex. The main rationale was ending the over-the-counter sale of patent medicines such as heroin cough syrup, but there was a definite racist streak among advocates for controlling cocaine. "Cocaine is often the direct incentive to the crime of rape by the Negroes," Hamilton Wright, the hard-drinking doctor-turned-diplomat who spearheaded the first major multinational drug-control agreements, told Congress. In 1914, Dr. Edward Huntington Williams opined in the New York Times Magazine that "once the negro has formed the habit, he is irreclaimable. The only method to keep him from taking the drug is by imprisoning him."

The movement to prohibit alcohol was part puritanical, part racist. In the big cities, it was anti-immigrant. Bishop James Cannon of the Anti-Saloon League in 1928 denounced Italians, Poles and Russian Jews as "the kind of dirty people that you find today on the sidewalks of New York," while in 1923, Imogen Oakley of the General Federation of Women's Clubs described the Irish, Germans, and others as "insoluble lumps of unassimilated and unassimilable peoples … 'wet' by heredity and habit." In the South, it was anti-black. "The disenfranchisement of Negroes is the heart of the movement in Georgia and throughout the South for the Prohibition of the liquor traffic," Georgia prohibitionist A.J. McKelway wrote in 1907. "Liquor will actually make a brute out of a negro, causing him to commit unnatural crimes," Alabama Rep. Richmond P. Hobson told Congress in 1914, a year after he'd sponsored the first federal Prohibition bill. (He said it had the same effect on white men, but took longer because they were "further evolved.")

Prohibitionism was an early example of fundamentalist Christians' political strength. The midpoint of William Jennings Bryan's odyssey from the prairie populist of 1896 to the evolution foe of 1925 was his endorsement of Prohibition in 1910. The rural puritans were abetted by middle-class do-gooders who, when they saw a slum-dwelling factory hand come home drunk and beat his wife, would blame the saloon instead of the pressures of capitalist exploitation or the license of misogyny. And many industrial employers, including DuPont's gunpowder division, demanded abstinent workers. World War I's austerity was the final piece of the puzzle.

Prohibitionists played key roles in the campaign to outlaw cannabis. Harry Anslinger had been so hardline that he advocated prosecuting individual users for possession of alcohol. (Federal Prohibition, unlike the current marijuana laws, only banned sales, allowed personal possession and limited home brewing, and had an exemption for medical use.) Richmond P. Hobson, who crusaded against drugs in the 1920s as head of the World Narcotic Defense Association, was an early advocate of marijuana prohibition. In 1931, he told the federal Wickersham Commission that marijuana used in excess "motivates the most atrocious acts." And in early 1936, the General Federation of Women's Clubs joined Anslinger's campaign to make reefers verboten.

In a country that was puritanical and racist enough in 1919 to outlaw alcohol in 1919, forbidding cannabis was politically very easy. Alcohol had been the most pervasive recreational drug in the Western world for millennia. Marijuana was virtually unknown. And though Prohibitionists -- like the immigration laws of the 1920s, the resurgent Ku Klux Klan, and the 1928 presidential campaign against Irish Catholic Democrat Al Smith -- demonized whiskey-sodden Micks, wine-soaked wops, traitorous beer-swilling Krauts and liquor-selling Jew shopkeepers, at least those people were sort of white. Marijuana was used mainly by Mexican immigrants and African-Americans.

The Nixon-era escalation of the war on drugs was one of the few times in U.S. history when white users were a prime target, as marijuana and LSD provided legal pretexts to attack the '60s counterculture. Richard Nixon's White House tapes captured him in 1971 growling that "every one of the bastards that are out for legalizing marijuana is Jewish." But Nixon and other law-and-order politicians were most successful when they lumped youthful cultural-political rebellion and black militance with ghetto heroin addiction and the rising crime of the 1970s. New York's draconian Rockefeller drug laws, passed in 1973 as Gov. Nelson Rockefeller was trying to look "tough on crime," were a harbinger of the federal mandatory minimums of the 1980s. The result was that more than 90 percent of the state's drug prisoners are black or Latino.

The crack hysteria of the late 1980s was another example of the fear of dark-skinned demons breeding racially repressive law enforcement. Both federal and many state crack laws were designed to snare street dealers and bottom-level distributors, giving them the same penalties as powder-cocaine wholesalers. The racial results were obvious almost immediately. In overwhelmingly white Minnesota, more than 90 percent of the people convicted of possession of crack in 1988-89 were black. In the early 1990s, the U.S. Attorney's office in Southern California went more than five years without prosecuting a white person for crack.

That pattern still holds: In 2003, 81 percent of the defendants sentenced on crack charges nationwide were black. And law enforcement didn't spare the African-American innocent. In an August 1988 drug raid on an apartment block on Dalton Avenue in South Central Los Angeles, 88 city cops smashed walls and furniture with sledgehammers and axes, beat people with flashlights, and poured bleach on residents' clothes -- and arrested two teenagers who didn't live there on minor drug charges.

Why do people believe it?

Why, then, do so many people believe in the "hemp conspiracy"? First, it's the influence of The Emperor Wears No Clothes; many people inspired to cannabis activism by Jack Herer's hemp-can-save-the-world vision and passionate denunciations of pot prohibition buy into the whole "conspiracy against marijuana" package. Another is that many stoners love a good conspiracy theory; secret cabals are simpler and sexier villains than sociopolitical forces. The conspiracist worldview, a hybrid of the who-really-killed-the-Kennedys suspicions of the '60s left and the Bilderbergs-and-Illuminati demonology of the far right, is especially common in rural areas and among pothead Ron Paul supporters. Most people don't have the historical or political knowledge to dispute a conspiracist flood of detailed half-truths.

Counterculture people who see the evil done by corporations and politicians are often quick to believe that they are thus guilty of anything and everything -- that because the CIA tried to kill Fidel Castro with an exploding cigar, it's therefore indisputable that it killed Bob Marley by giving him boots booby-trapped with a carcinogen-tipped wire. Witness the multitudes who zealously argue that because George W. Bush gained a political advantage from the 9/11 attacks and told a thousand lies to justify the war in Iraq, it's proof that his operatives planted explosives in the World Trade Center and set them off an hour or so after the planes hit.

The Bush administration's attempt to link buying herb to "supporting terrorism" proved more laughable than lasting. Yet the racism-culture war combination is still very potent. Among the 360,000 arrests for marijuana possession in New York City between 1997 and 2006, the decade when mayors Rudolph Giuliani and Michael Bloomberg turned the city into the nation's pot-bust capital, 84 percent of the people popped were black or Latino, mostly young men. And the oft-cited statistic that there are more black men in prison than in college should be the equivalent of a doctor's warning that the nation has a cholesterol level approaching Jerry Garcia's after years on a diet of ice cream, cigarettes and heroin.

The Supremes Debate Medical Pot

"I need to medicate. I'm not feeling well," Angel McClary Raich says outside the Supreme Court on Monday, Nov. 29.

Raich, who has dark hair, pale olive skin and rimless oval glasses, is reed-thin – she struggles to keep her weight over 98 pounds. And no wonder she's thin; the 39-year-old Oakland, Calif. woman suffers from scoliosis, endometriosis, severe headaches, chronic nausea, unexplained seizures and episodes of paralysis, uterine fibroid tumors, a brain tumor too deep in her head to be removed, and a mysterious wasting syndrome where she loses life-threatening amounts of weight.

She has taken more than 30 different medications to deal with her conditions, including Vicodin, methadone, Tegretol, Paxil, Depakote, Dilantin, Promethazine, Marinol and cannabis. Cannabis is the only one that's been effective. She has to consume more than two ounces a week, in smoke, vaporization, food and cannabis-oil balm, but she no longer needs a wheelchair and can spend time with her two teenage children. "Cannabis gave me back my limbs," she says.

Another California woman, Diane Monson, 47, of Oroville, uses cannabis to control her painful back spasms, which did not respond to a decade of conventional medications, including Vicodin, Vioxx and the muscle relaxant Flexeril. But medical use of cannabis, while legal under California's 1996 law, is illegal under federal law. In August 2002, DEA agents raided Monson's garden and destroyed her six marijuana plants, after a three-hour stand-off with local police. "They were getting quite chesty with the federal guys," she recalls of the sheriff's dept. officers.

Two months after that raid, the two women petitioned the courts for an injunction to bar the federal government from interfering with their medical-marijuana use. A federal district court in California said no, but in December 2003, the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals ordered the lower court to issue a preliminary injunction. The Justice Department appealed to the Supreme Court, which heard arguments on Nov. 29. A ruling is expected sometime in summer 2005.

The Commerce Clause

The key legal issue in the case, Ashcroft v. Raich, is how far the federal government can stretch its constitutional power to regulate interstate commerce. Federal drug prohibition justifies its usurpation of what are normally state police powers on the grounds that the illegal drug traffic is interstate commerce. But Monson grows her pot herself, and Raich gets hers donated by two local growers (who are anonymous parties to the suit). Therefore, they contend, as their marijuana never crosses a state line and no money changes hands, it is neither interstate nor commerce.

The two women also argue that preventing them from using medical marijuana would cause them "irreparable harm," severe pain and even death. "There are no other treatments I can reasonably recommend for Angel," Raich's physician, Dr. Frank H. Lucido of Berkeley, wrote in a deposition. "It could very well be fatal for Angel to forgo cannabis treatments." "Death constitutes irreparable harm," the patients' lawyers argue.

The case represents California pot patients' second effort to break the legal yoke that the federal Controlled Substances Act holds around state laws that let sick people use cannabis if they have a valid recommendation for it from their doctor. In the first case, U.S. v. Oakland Cannabis Buyers Cooperative in 2001, patients argued that "medical necessity" trumped the federal law, much as ambulances are allowed to break the speed limit. (Raich's husband, Robert, was one of the Oakland co-op's lawyers.) The Court unanimously rejected that claim for sale and distribution of marijuana, but left it unresolved for individual medical use.

The Justice Department's case relies mainly on a 1942 Supreme Court decision, Wickard v. Filburn, in which an Ohio farmer, Roscoe Filburn, was fined $117 for violating New Deal agricultural regulations by growing 460 bushels of wheat, twice his allowed quota. Filburn claimed that the wheat was for his family's personal use, so it was neither interstate nor commerce. The Court held that if enough farmers followed his example, it could substantially affect the interstate commerce in wheat.

Cannabis is illegal, the Justice Department adds, and the courts have said that the government has the right to ban personal possession of marijuana in order to stifle the trade in it, just as it does with machine guns, child pornography and purloined OxyContin. And the Controlled Substances Act classifies pot as a Schedule I substance, a dangerous drug with no valid medical use.

Homegrown Questions

Responding to questions from Justices Sandra Day O'Connor, John Paul Stevens, and David Souter, Acting Solicitor General Paul D. Clement repeatedly insisted that it would be impossible to allow medical use of marijuana while banning recreational use. Because marijuana is fungible, he said, police would need an "almost unnatural ability" to prevent medical herb from being diverted into the black market, and anyone arrested would claim they were a medical user.

"Any little island of lawful possession poses a real challenge to the statutory regime," Clement told the Court. Medical marijuana, he told Justice Stevens, "is an oxymoron." There is no such thing as medical use under federal law, he contended, and even if there were, there's no legal framework to regulate it.

The case will likely turn on the questions of whether Monson and Raich's home gardening constitutes "economic activity" and whether it has a substantial effect on the interstate marijuana market. Clement told the Court that it would, that marijuana is a $10.5 billion market nationally and that there are 100,000 medical users in California. The Justice Department maintains that there is no separation between private marijuana use and interstate commerce, that by possessing even homegrown pot Raich and Monson are stimulating the illicit drug market by increasing the marijuana supply.

That is an oddly paradoxical claim; medical users tout growing their own as an alternative to the illegal market. On the other hand, Clement argued that moving medical users out of the illegal market would depress prices, thus stimulating demand for pot – but if medical users bought weed on the street, that would also increase demand. The Justice Department's brief also avers that by taking cannabis instead of prescription drugs, medical users are undermining the market for legitimate pharmaceuticals.

By that logic, the patients' lawyers respond, home rose gardeners could be accused of undermining florists, and people who take care of their own kids could be accused of undercutting professional day care. "Prostitution is economic activity. Marital relations aren't," Boston law professor Randy E. Barnett, the patients' attorney, told the Court. The law involved in the Wickard case, the patients' brief notes, exempted small farms, those growing less than 300 bushels of wheat.

Two recent Supreme Court decisions have limited the government's use of the interstate-commerce justification: U.S. v. Lopez from 1995, striking down a law banning possession of a gun near a school, and U.S. v. Morrison in 2000, invalidating a law letting women sue their abusers in federal court. Clement contended that these cases are irrelevant, because they did not involve economic activity; Barnett responds that if the Court does not back Raich and Monson, there will be no limits on the concept of affecting interstate commerce, and federal law could reach "any activity at all."

Court and Spark

Finding a majority on the Court to support the right to use medical marijuana may be difficult, though. Justices O'Connor and Ruth Bader Ginsburg appeared most sympathetic, with Stevens and Souter also possible allies – though Souter and Anthony Kennedy both expressed concern about medical homegrown's effect on the market. The Court's conservative bloc, Justices Antonin Scalia, Clarence Thomas and the ailing William Rehnquist (who was absent, but announced that he would participate in the decision) is considered most sympathetic to restricting the use of the Commerce Clause, but conventional wisdom is that their distaste for drug use will trump that.

Justice Stephen Breyer seemed markedly skeptical. He questioned whether marijuana can help patients, suggested that they should get the Food and Drug Administration to approve medical marijuana instead of going through the courts, and declared that "medicine by regulation is better than medicine by referendum."

The marijuana legalization movement has tried several times to get the DEA to reclassify pot, to move it out of Schedule I. In 1988, after more than 15 years of litigation, DEA administrative law judge Francis Young called cannabis "one of the safest therapeutically active substances known to man." The DEA rejected his conclusions, and it has also nixed subsequent claims that new scientific evidence warrants rescheduling.

In 2001, a University of Massachusetts researcher applied for permission to grow cannabis for use in clinical studies, but the DEA has been sitting on that request for three years, says Rob Kampia of the Marijuana Policy Project. (The federal government's medical pot, grown on a farm in Mississippi and distributed to approved researchers and the seven surviving legal patients, is to West Coast medical-grade homegrown as rancid wine cooler is to prime Napa Valley cabernet.)

Federal Raids

Meanwhile, medical marijuana has been a top law-enforcement priority for the Bush administration. California NORML lists about 35 federal raids on medical growers since 2001. Some have been on massive cultivation operations well beyond state legal limits – California grower Eddy Lepp, busted in August, claimed that his 32,000 plants were earmarked for more than 2,000 individual patients – but the DEA has also hit small gardens like Monson's: 25 plants in San Diego, 27 plants in Mendocino County, 12 plants in South Central Los Angeles. In November 2003, the DEA seized three plants from a 57-year-old Colorado cancer patient without pressing charges.

The Justice Department's answer to medical marijuana users is simple: Take Marinol, capsules of synthetic THC dissolved in sesame oil. "It's wrong to assume that there's any inherent hostility to these substances," Clement said, noting that the DEA had moved Marinol from Schedule II (cocaine, OxyContin) to Schedule III (codeine). (That decision came just after the 1998 election, when four states approved medical marijuana initiatives.) Yet many medical marijuana users dislike Marinol. Its effects take two to three hours to come on, while smoking is almost instantaneous, an essential trait for controlling nausea or taming migraines. And Marinol is expensive, selling for $17 a pill on the Internet. As with eating marijuana, it's difficult to control the dose; one 10-mg capsule can be as disorienting as overindulging in hash brownies.

Asked by Ginsburg what possible defense there would be for a patient like Raich, who says Marinol made her vomit, Clement said there is none, just that it was unlikely she would be prosecuted.

That's scant consolation for patients like Raich. "If they decide I have the right to live, I can spend the rest of my life with my family," she said after the hearing. A negative ruling, she added, would be "a death sentence." Either way, she says, she's not going to stop medicating.

Drugs and the Nation

In an election whose outcome was determined by militaristic, theocratic culture warriors, medical marijuana in Montana was one of the few bright spots.

Even as 59 percent of the state's voters were going for George W. Bush and two-thirds opting to ban gay marriage, Montanans were approving Initiative 148, which would allow medical marijuana use by patients with a doctor's recommendation, by a 62-38 percent margin.

Two further-reaching state drug initiatives lost. Alaskans rejected a proposal to legalize marijuana under regulations similar to alcohol, by a 57-43 percent margin, and Oregon defeated a measure to expand the state's medical marijuana law by 58-42. The number of people voting against the Oregon initiative – which would have set up state-licensed medical-herb dispensaries, so patients could obtain a legal supply – almost exactly matched the number who voted to ban gay marriage.

Three local initiatives won. Oakland, Calif. voted to make adult cannabis offenses the lowest priority for the city's police. In Ann Arbor, Mich., where pot possession already carries only a $25 fine, voters approved an initiative to legalize medical use and reduce the penalty for third-offense possession or sale to a $100 fine. (Detroit voters passed a medical marijuana measure in August.)

Another college town, Columbia, Miss., enacted two pot proposals, one to legalize medical use and one to decriminalize possession of up to 35 grams. The decrim measure will reduce the penalty to a $250 fine and require police and prosecutors to take pot-possession cases to municipal courts, where it will be a minor violation, instead of to state courts, where it remains a criminal offense.

The moral: There is still substantial support for liberalizing the nation's drug laws, but proposals that push drug law reform too far or too fast are risky, and support is strongest in urban and countercultural enclaves.

Paul Befumo of the Montana Medical Marijuana Policy Project says the initiative there succeeded because it was a libertarian, common sense issue.

"The idea that medical decisions should be between a person and their doctor really resonated with Montanans," he explains. "We made our case." People who have had relatives with serious illnesses, he adds, "really get it."

The main arguments opponents raised were that it would send a bad message to children about drugs and that separating medical and recreational marijuana would be a law enforcement nightmare.

The Oregon initiative's biggest problem was it was underfunded, says John Sajo of Voter Power in Portland: They had a budget of $600,000 to reach about 1.7 million voters. "I think that if we had three or four million we would have won."

The initiative, intended to help Oregon's 15,000 registered medical marijuana users get a legitimate supply, was also far-reaching. It would have let users growing outdoors have one 6-pound crop a year, given free cannabis to indigent patients and allowed naturopaths and nurse practitioners to recommend medical marijuana.

That, says Sajo, opened the initiative up to "lying and distorting" by opponents, who called it "legalization in disguise" and said it would make the state a haven for drug dealers. Bill O'Reilly on Fox News claimed the measure would let shamans from the Amazon set up shop in Oregon. Some legalization supporters also opposed the initiative on the grounds that it would get the state too involved with marijuana patients.

If cannabis legalization advocates have to portray responsible drug use in order to succeed, prohibitionist propaganda remains extremely potent when it collides, even marginally, with reality. In the 1930s, Harry Anslinger made Victor Licata, a Florida pothead who killed his family with an axe, his poster boy for marijuana prohibition – and the Alaska initiative campaign, which emphasized alcohol-style regulation, was damaged by an eerily similar murder case.

On Oct. 21, 16-year-old Colin Cotting of Anchorage was arrested and charged with beating his stepmother to death and stuffing her body in a freezer after she confronted him about being high. Police said Cotting told them he was "too stoned" to remember much about what happened. Nevada's 2002 legalization initiative failed under similar circumstances; two months before the election, the managing editor of the Las Vegas Sun was killed when a stoned driver rear-ended her car at a red light.

The Alaska initiative still got a respectable 43 percent of the vote, and marijuana possession remains legal there under state Supreme Court decisions from 1975 and last August. Gov. Frank Murkowski and Alaska's attorney general will now probably try to enact a cannabis ban that doesn't violate the state's constitutional right to privacy, says David Finkelstein, a former state legislator who headed the initiative campaign. To do this, he says, they will have to prove that marijuana is more of a danger than the court said it was.

Paul Armentano of NORML suggests that activists should turn to doing local initiatives, which are easier to organize, cost less, and can be done on friendlier turf. Oakland definitely fits that last criterion; the city's cluster of medical cannabis dispensaries has been nicknamed "Oaksterdam."

"We didn't have to do a lot of work," says Judy Appel of the Oakland Civil Liberties Alliance. "The people of Oakland support this." With endorsements from Rep. Barbara Lee and state Senate Majority Leader Don Perata, Measure Z won with 64 percent of the vote. It remains to be seen whether the city police will not bother pot smokers, but the measure sets up an advisory board to establish guidelines. Local initiatives, adds Appel, are a crucial model for alternatives to the war on drugs.

Columbia, home to the University of Missouri and two other colleges, is also culturally sympathetic territory. It backed pot decriminalization by a 61-39 margin, and also voted overwhelmingly to require the city government to start using alternative energy sources for electrical power. A similar decrim measure lost in a special election last year, but in a general election, says Dan Viets of Missouri NORML, "we didn't have to get people out, we just had to persuade them."

A key issue, he adds, was that moving cannabis cases to municipal court will protect students from losing their financial aid under the federal Higher Education Act, which denies college funds to people with drug convictions. The initiative also benefited from a 70 percent increase in the number of registered voters between 18 and 24 in the last two years.

Bruce Mirken of the Marijuana Policy Project, which financed much of the Alaska, Oregon and Montana campaigns, sees a bright spot in Vermont, where a strong grassroots campaign helped defeat the three "most hardcore opponents" of medical marijuana in the state legislature.

Still, drug-policy reformers now have to face another four years under a president whose political base is among puritanical cultural warriors. When Bush took office in 2001, many in the movement, at least among those who hadn't lived in Texas while he was governor, expressed hope that he would approach drug issues as a "compassionate conservative," or better yet, reveal a libertarian streak and pull a "Nixon goes to China."

That proved to be severely wishful thinking. Bush made medical marijuana a top law enforcement priority, sending SWAT teams to jail the Californians who dared defy Schedule I of the Controlled Substances Act and flooding the airwaves with ad campaigns conjuring the specter of pot smokers financing terrorists and stoned teenagers accidentally shooting their best friends. ("Hey man, it's loaded! "Kewl, dude!") The Bush campaign advocates increasing drug testing of high school students, federal drug czar John Walters' pet cause. (Meanwhile, John Kerry offered extremely muted, tepid support for medical marijuana.)

Mirken tries to remain optimistic, saying that if Bush wants history to see him as "a uniter, not a divider," medical marijuana would be a good place to start, and the Montana results indicate it wouldn't hurt him with his base. On the other hand, he says, "there's absolutely no indication they plan to change. They can make life very miserable for a lot of sick people. Patients and their supporters may have to hunker down for a very rough four years."

"Culture war is not our biggest problem," says John Sajo. "I think we could legalize marijuana if our constituents actually made up a movement." The biggest problem, he believes, is the "complacency and apathy" of the nation's tokers. The decriminalization movement is now funded largely by a handful of wealthy benefactors, because "the average pot smoker doesn't have the consciousness that they have to pay for it," he says. "If every pot smoker donated half of what they spent on marijuana, we'd have a war chest in the billions."

Whither Pennsylvania?

A few miles southeast of the wooded ridges of Valley Forge, where George Washington's army spent the bitter winter of 1777-1778, lies the King of Prussia Mall, the largest shopping complex in the world. The Philadelphia suburbs that surround its halls of Eddie Bauer, Foot Locker, and smooth-jazz Muzak are one of the places that may decide the 2004 presidential election.

Pennsylvania voted for Reagan and Bush I in the 1980s, but went for Clinton in the 1990s. Al Gore won it by 220,000 votes in 2000, a margin of 50-46 percent. The conventional wisdom is that the state consists of "Philadelphia and Pittsburgh surrounded by Kentucky"; two big cities balanced by isolated, mountainous rural counties.

Democrats, says state party director Don Morabito, rely on a "four corners strategy": Philadelphia, which Gore carried by better than 4-1 in 2000, piling up a 340,000-vote margin, along with Pittsburgh and the industrial small towns in the southwest, Erie in the northwest, and the old coal-and-steel areas of Allentown/Bethlehem and Scranton/Wilkes-Barre in the northeast, which Gore won narrowly in 2000. Meanwhile, Republicans try to maximize turnout in the rural areas and the Pennsylvania Dutch country around York and Lancaster, the most solidly Republican part of the Northeast, where George Bush won by a 2-1 margin in 2000.

The key to the state may be in the Philadelphia suburbs: Bucks, Delaware, Chester, and Montgomery counties. They cast about one million votes in 2000, more than a fifth of the state's total, and gave Gore a 53,000-vote margin.

In the Mall: the Undecided

"I'm still swinging," says Mark Wensel, 45, a shipping-industry salesman from Media at the King of Prussia mall. He's a registered Republican who turned against the Iraq war when no weapons of mass destruction were found, but dislikes Kerry, saying he "tells people what they want to hear." His ultimate choice may be personal – "who would you rather have a beer with?"

Another undecided voter, Barbara Nichter, 56, of Drexel Hill, repeatedly describes the campaign as "frustrating. You don't know what is true and what is not true." She voted for Bush in 2000 and is leaning towards him again. Though she works for a healthcare consultant and likes Kerry's healthcare position, she feels that Bush is "a better commander in chief. We need to be aggressive."

Nancy Perkins, 44, of King of Prussia, is also frustrated with the "accusations and innuendo." She's divided between supporting Bush's "handling the terrorism situation" and disagreeing with him on social issues; she's "definitely for abortion rights" and says "if two people love each other, why shouldn't they be able to get married?" She gently remonstrates with her 17-year-old daughter, who calls Bush "a moron." "I can't understand these undecideds. Make a frickin' decision!" exclaims Denise Watkins, 44, of Philadelphia, at the mall with her 18-year-old daughter. She endorsed Kerry months ago, she says, because Bush is using faith-based initiatives "to get out of helping inner cities," because "I will never vote for a pro-life politician," and because in Iraq, "if you're making the wrong damn decision, how is it admirable to stick with it?"

"Just not Bush," says Ken Moore, 23, of Havertown, who says in the debates, Bush "seemed to have no clue." "Not Bush. The other one," echoes Helen Smith, 80, of Conshohocken, who says she has to spend more than $200 a month on medicine.

Two firm Bush supporters are Ryan and Jessica Swailes, a pharmaceutical-salesperson couple from the rural town of Williamsport. Bush "takes a strong stance on what he thinks," explains Ryan, 28, while Kerry "is a chameleon." Even if there was no link between Saddam Hussein and the 9/11 attacks, adds Jessica, 25, "you can't say Iraq is not better off without Saddam. His sons killed people for no reason." The two believe that "the media need to cover the good things more, not just the negative," says Ryan. "That's why we started watching Fox News. They give both sides." Another registered Republican, 21-year-old Penn State student Dan Iannucci, says he will vote against Bush, even though his friends call him "a bleeding heart." Bush's huge budget deficit is not "real Republican" economics, he explains, and the president went into Iraq "without a plan to win the peace. If it was you or me and you planned that poorly for something that important, you'd be fired."

Cleophis Hyman, 67, a retired truckdriver from Philadelphia, is a black man who complains that Bush "can spend billions in Iraq, but they can't put medicine on Medicare" – but says he'll probably vote for Bush. The reason: Kerry "believes people have the right to kill your children," he opines. "They use fancy words. They call it 'abortion.' They call it 'choice.' But it's murder."

West Philly: Kerry, Nader, or Nobody

The spectrum of views is very different at Baltimore Avenue and South 49th Street in West Philadelphia. The neighborhood, composed of aging, richly detailed three-story wood and brick houses, is mostly African American – storefronts advertise Caribbean cuisine, fried fish, and collard greens – but more multiracial and somewhat more middle class than the blocks to the north, which are pockmarked with abandoned rowhouses and vacant lots. It's also home to Philadelphia's anarchist space and was the site of the now-defunct Radio Mutiny pirate station.

"We don't want no Bush. I know that much," says Tee Johnson, 69, a Grenada-born retired longshoreman in an electric-blue baseball cap. "Bush is a downright liar," says Sarah Crocker, 40, a workers' compensation claims adjuster. "The economy's a mess, the senior citizens are catching hell with the prescription drugs. And the one who did 9/11 is bin Laden. Why are you going after Saddam Hussein?" Bush says the healthcare system is getting better, she adds, but when she tried to get medical care – "for me, my kids have CHIP" – after her unemployment compensation ran out last year, "They told me the government ran out of money. I said, 'You're taking my tax dollars to Iraq and I can't get healthcare here in the United States? That's ridiculous.'"

Her main hope, she says, is that "it doesn't happen like in Florida. They stole the election. I don't care what anybody says."

James Seldon, a 45-year-old father of three, says he was "kind of undecided" until the last debate, when "Bush would put the same answer to everything. 'Education is great.' School is great for kids, but people my age need jobs. We've got bills. And he wants kids to pay for their own Social Security."

Among the neighborhood's anticapitalist, countercultural types, Marissa Valenzuela, 26, a social worker with several rings in her lower lip, says she'll vote for Kerry as "damage control." A lot of her friends aren't voting, she says; after Florida, "Who knows if it gets counted?" Her friend Vincenzo Gentile, 21, a socialist bicycle messenger, would like to see "an extremely pervy queer president," but will vote for Kerry as "less scary than Bush." He was impressed that Kerry brought up reproductive rights in the debates without being asked.

"I don't know anyone who's not voting," he adds. "I've been to parties where people won't let you in the door unless you're registered." Joe, a 51-year-old construction supplies salesman who doesn't give his last name, says he's voting for Ralph Nader, based on his opposition to the Iraq war and his work on environmental issues. Asked the obvious question, he replies, "I'd rather have Bush. Kerry's a quiche-eating, insipid phony. He's for the war, then against it."

Kerry has "taken the inner city vote for granted," says Jim Kurtz, a 48-year-old nurse with two young children. He'd like to see the issue of drugs addressed, by legalizing some to take the profit out of the trade, providing treatment for addicts, and creating jobs to discourage the young from turning to dealing. "I don't have a lot of hope that Kerry will do anything about that," he says, but he'll vote for the Democrat anyway.

"I'm biased. Whatever Bush says is bull," says Bilal Bell, 29, sitting in front of Sugar Hill, his small bakery shop, with his baby daughter. "I hope people will see through all the propaganda and the bad commercials." For Bell, the main issues are healthcare ("they told us it was $1,400 for a family of four"); creating economic opportunities beyond the military or drug-dealing; and the Iraq war. "Who's the bigger terrorist?" he asks. "9/11 was horrible, but it doesn't justify going in and bombing a country that had nothing to do with it."

AIDS Activists Negative on Bush

Two Pennsylvanians who definitely aren't going to vote for President Bush are Philadelphia ACT UP activists Waheedah Shabazz-El, 51, and Jose DeMarco, 49.

"Mr. Bush has no compassion for people with AIDS," says Shabazz-El. "He's not signing bills that would fund AIDS drug assistance. He wants to push abstinence-only into our communities. Abstinence hasn't worked in 5,000 years."

Federal AIDS services "are worse than they've ever been," adds DeMarco. Several states have stopped accepting new patients for the AIDS Drugs Assistance Program, and more than 1,600 people are on the waiting list for it. "They have to wait for someone to die to get drugs," says Shabazz-El. "I think their theory is let the people who have [AIDS] die and push abstinence-only for the rest," says DeMarco.

Getting Out the Vote

"I ain't voting. I ain't registered. Been too busy being unemployed," says a man with faded skin and broken teeth, wearing a red Rocawear sweatsuit. He is proving the point expressed by ACORN team leader Kia James a few minutes earlier and a few blocks away, when she says, "A lot of people are so disenfranchised they don't realize their vote counts. They don't see how anything will change their lives."

While officially nonpartisan, the community group is actively registering voters in Philadelphia's poorer neighborhoods, on the grounds that getting people involved in the political process will increase their chances of improving their housing and schools. "You get one neighborhood with 100 percent turnout and one with 20 percent turnout, which one's getting the funds?" James asks.

With far fewer undecided voters than usual, says Don Morabito, the Democrats' state party director, the election is "going to be about turning out the vote." The party has 20,000 volunteers, making more than 100,000 phone calls a week, he adds. He's been involved in politics since 1960, and says, "I've never experienced this level of activity in a campaign."

A Protest from the City

Harlem housing organizer James Lewis calls out, "Is this a good day for a protest? We're mad as hell and we're not gonna take it any more."

"That's right," said the chorus of protesters behind him.

Lewis kicked off Monday's Still We Rise march, organized by a coalition of more than 50 mostly local New York neighborhood, housing, immigrant, homeless, and AIDS groups. It drew around 10,000 people, and addressed the gritty economic realities of life in a city where the gap between the rich and the poor is as bad as it has ever been. This is the New York outside the Republicans' glitzy cocoon in Midtown Manhattan. This isn't the New York you see on Sex and the City, where women torture their feet into Jimmy Choos; this is the New York where buying the kids a pair of sneakers is a big deal. This is the New York, where, as 19-year-old Jesus Gonzalez of Brooklyn puts it, "We've got schools that look like prisons, with metal detectors and police in the halls, and prisons that look like schools, because they've got so many kids locked up."

"The Republicans are coming to town and seeing this totally sanitized version of New York City," says Patrick Markee of the Coalition for the Homeless. "They could spend all their time there and not see the impact of Bush's policies on New Yorkers."

Homelessness in the city, he says, is up 60 percent since Bush took office, has doubled among families with children, and is likely to get a lot worse if Bush's plans to decimate the Section 8 rent-subsidy program go through.

"This is a message to the Republicans that they can't wrap themselves in the flag. There's nothing more American than dissidence," says Hector Landron, 38, a graying newspaper deliveryman from the South Bronx. Landron, who has three children, is most concerned about education: Bush's "No Child Left Behind" program has cut money for schools while requiring teachers "to teach to a test instead of teaching our children."

Brooklyn's FUREE – Families United for Racial and Economic Equality – marched in a group of about 40, mostly mothers with children, all clad in red T-shirts. Maria Jones, 43, a former child-care worker, said they're trying to ensure both that day-care centers are safe and that workers are better paid. Child-care teachers now get around $7 an hour, she said, maybe $8 to $10 if they have a college degree, and no health benefits. Joe Burrell, 29, said he became homeless about two years ago, after he lost his job in a Queens hospital and "wound up doing lots of street things, drugs and alcohol." He carried one end of the black banner for the Positive Health Project, a needle-exchange program. It's not just about needle exchange, they help you build your life back up."

Despite the grittiness of the issues, the march was far from grim. Kori, a 24-year-old percussionist from Oakland, California, played a salsafied version of James Brown's "Funky Drummer" beat on a water jug. Scores of young Asian immigrants chant "One! We are the people! Two! A little bit louder! Three! We want justice! For the Third World!" And a bass drum and cowbell lay down a breakbeat under "If Bush had AIDS, what would he do? Find a cure, Find a cure."

One of the most vivid contingents was SIAFU, who wore scarlet or bright-olive T-shirts with an ant inside a black star. The siafu is an African ant that organizes into groups big enough to attack elephants, explained Raquel Larina, 30, an education worker from Oakland, California. "All of us decided to take off work and come here," she said. "Bush will probably ignore the protests," she added, "but they send a message to American voters and the world that "there's lots of opposition and you're not alone."

A substantial number of the marchers were sympathetic middle-class whites. Will Cummins, 46, of Palm Springs, California, carried a "Fight AIDS-Vote" placard. He was here on a business trip, but arranged his schedule so he could attend the protests. "We want our country back," said Jamie, a special-education teacher from Brooklyn. "And the peacefulness of it is great."

The march headed up Eighth Avenue until it reached the designated protest area just south of Madison Square Garden. A pen for the speakers was set up between 30th and 31st streets, demarcated by interlocking metal barricades on the sidewalk and an eight-foot metal grille down the middle of the road. About 20 riot cops stood across the avenue spaced about a yard apart, legs slightly spread, waists weighted down by guns and radios, clubs and handcuffs, keeping the marchers behind the barricades at 30th Street. The adjacent sidewalks, normally inhabited by several homeless people, were vacant. Police started kicking the homeless out of the area a few months ago, said Rogers, who only gave his last name, "so the wealthy Republicans wouldn't see homeless people on the street."

Rogers, a 50-year-old with tortoise-shell glasses, says he's been homeless for about three years, alternating among friends, the shelters, and the street, and is now "in the paperwork jungle of Section 8," waiting for placement in an apartment.

The best thing about the Still We Rise coalition, Rogers said, is "the cross-pollination. Victims of domestic violence, some of them are homeless. People with AIDS, some of them are homeless. Immigrants, some of them are homeless. When you talk about them, you're talking about us."

Would the news of this march reach George Bush? "The people are speaking with their feet and voices," said Cerita Parker, 50, of the Bronx, a food-service manager in the city's schools. "On November 2nd, we'll speak at the ballot box. This time he won't be able to get the Supreme Court to put him in."

Madison Square Garden, the site of the Republican convention sat mute in response to the marchers, a concrete fortress dome decorated in red, white, and blue. North of 30th Street, the beginnings of the frozen zone, the only pedestrians outside the speakers' pen were police. The Times Square subway station was as empty as a sardine can with maybe two or three fish left. A police officer on duty there said ridership was a quarter of a normal Monday.

The Next March

The day's second major protest was the Poor People's Economic Human Rights Campaign, sponsored by the Kensington Welfare Rights Union from Philadelphia. It carried high potential for trouble. They were planning to march across the East Side, from the United Nations to the Garden, at rush hour without a permit. The march had a disorganized feel to it; the marshals' T-shirts are crudely spray-painted stencils that said "Peacekeeper," and the signs were also spray-painted "Housing Is a Human Right" using box cardboard stencils. The crowd was a small core of poor black folks joined by 3,000 to 4,000 white leftist types.

After all the wrangling and stalling about whether the previous day's marchers would be able to use Central Park, the idea of "We don't need any permit but the First Amendment" was appealing to many. Volunteer civil-liberties lawyers worked out a deal with the police and agreed on a route.

So the march started off down Second Avenue, occupying half the street, up the hill to 42nd Street and down into Kips Bay, a residential neighborhood, and people there welcomed the march. The protesters chanted, "Whose streets? Our streets!" The glummest spectators were the passengers on the express buses on East 23rd Street, stuck in traffic as they head out to southern Staten Island and Bay Ridge in Brooklyn, among the city's most conservative areas.

"We want jobs that are worth getting," said Brandy Jones, 26, one of about 10 women who came up from Louisville, Kentucky. "We want day care that costs less than $100 a week. That's more than my rent."

Most of the protesters were young. High-school junior Kevin Ballie, 16, complained that state and federal school-aid cuts mean that the city magnet school he attends has more than twice its intended enrollment. He said that he had been politically active since the 2000 election, when his grandmother, a Guyanese immigrant, got turned away from the polls in Orlando, Florida. Many are in countercultural drag, in backpacks, bandanas, and baggy shorts. Still, it's peaceful. "Everyone I know who was ready to get arrested said, 'Don't do it! They're talking,'" said Laura Reeves, 21, of Philadelphia, a heavily pierced gay-rights activist in a backwards "Fuck B*sh" baseball cap.

There were some middle-aged folks in the mix. Solange Schwalbe, 48, carried an American flag with the silhouette of the World Trade Center on it. A film sound editor from Los Angeles, she visited Ground Zero on her Christmas vacation in 2001, and wound up getting a job as a safety inspector "in the pit," which she called a life-changing experience. She came here to attend this year's 9/11 memorial ceremonies, but flew in early to join the protests. "The fact that the Republicans put on their convention in New York and so close to 9/11 is infuriating and insulting," she rages. "How dare they?"

West 23rd Street greeted the protesters enthusiastically. Workers waved from the windows of photo labs and karate dojos. Chelsea Hotel residents cheered from the balconies, as did customers at a gay bistro. Even the anarchist types in sweaty black T-shirts started chanting, "Give the cops a raise."

"It's pretty amazing," says Udi Ofer of the New York Civil Liberties Union, who helped tp negotiate the route. "This was a nice example of demonstrators working with police and police working with demonstrators." But that turned out to be a little too good to be true.

As the march was about to end at Eighth Avenue and 29th Street, protesters pushed back against the barricades, and then a plainclothes detective on a motorscooter rammed into the crowd. "I thought it was some kind of maniac," says Maya Martin of Jersey City. A wave of riot cops rushed in, pushing the barricades up, penning the protesters onto the block. "We are peaceful people," the demonstrators chant. The police remain impassive, lined up five deep to block the 29th Street intersection.

They slowly opened the barricades and the situation gradually defused, but as midnight neared, and the Republican delegates began to file out of the Garden after Rudy Giuliani's "9/11, 9/11-did I tell you about 9/11?" speech, low-flying police helicopters buzzed the neighborhood, a noise as ominous as the sound of approaching jackboots.

Democrats on Weed

The Bush junta's record on pot is abysmal. Some people hoped that as a Republican recovering alcoholic and cokehead, George W. might pull a "Nixon goes to China" on drug policy, but his performance in office has been more like Nixon bombing hospitals in Vietnam. From the crackdowns on medical marijuana and glass pipes to the threats to Canada if it decriminalizes pot, he's made cultural war on cannabis the center of his drug policy. So what are the alternatives? Well, as it's unlikely that the US will elect a Green or a Libertarian in 2004, that leaves the Democrats. Which isn't much. None of the nine candidates currently running is as extreme as Bush, but the ones who have criticized the Drug War the most are the ones considered least likely to win.

Except for Ohio Rep. Dennis Kucinich, none of the candidates' campaigns returned phone calls. This is understandable. If they told us they support the current laws, they'd be telling several hundred thousand pot-smokers that they back the absurd, fascist policy of putting us in jail. But if they came out for legalizing even medical marijuana -- and quoted in HT to boot -- they'd risk being banished from the land of the "serious," caricatured as loopy-grinned space cases floating several feet off the ground while passing a bong to some tie-dyed burnout.

Ethan Nadelmann of the Drug Policy Alliance, who has met with several of the candidates, says all were willing to support a minimal agenda of lowering mandatory-minimum sentences, reducing the disparity between penalties for crack and powder cocaine, and "paying lip service" to treatment instead of prisons. But so far, there are no Gary Johnsons running. While Congress' most rabid Drug Warriors are mainly Republicans, Democrats often want to appear compassionate without risking being seen as "soft on drugs." That often results in positions like that of an Ohio Congressmember who, in a letter obtained by NORML, wrote a constituent that he understood how medical marijuana helped severely sick people -- but that legalizing it would send teenagers the wrong message about pot.

Some activists are more optimistic. "How does the Democratic Party define itself as different from the Republicans?" asks John Hartman of the Ohio Cannabis Society. "This is one issue where they could." Ben Gaines of Students for a Sensible Drug Policy says that depends on "if we can get the candidates to understand that it's beneficial for them to talk at least about medical marijuana." But, observes Nadelmann, despite the 70-80 percent support for medical marijuana in polls, the cannabis constituency hasn't organized to the point where politicians have to pay attention to it. Here's how the current presidential hopefuls roll up.

Rep. Dennis Kucinich (Ohio)

Kucinich, a relative longshot, has taken the strongest stance of any Democrat in the race so far. He told reporters in May that medical marijuana should be available "to any patient who needs it to alleviate pain and suffering." He is not a cosponsor of Rep. Barney Frank's bill to let states legalize medical marijuana, but has signed onto a measure that would allow defendants in federal pot trials to claim medical use.

The former Cleveland mayor, who is campaigning as an antiwar, working-class liberal -- he advocates a Cabinet Department of Peace and a government-run universal health care system -- is a recent convert to drug-law reform; in 1998, he voted for a House resolution condemning medical-marijuana initiatives. "Dennis didn't come out of the closet until recently," says John Hartman.

Still, says Ethan Nadelmann, "Kucinich is the one who's jumping out." He's worked to repeal the Higher Education Act's ban on student loans for convicted pot-smokers, and his campaign Website declares that the War on Drugs "produces many casualties, but benefits only the prison-industrial complex."

"We're still developing our policy on 'the drug war,'" says a Kucinich campaign spokesperson, "but we are looking at the direction European countries and Canada have been moving in, and find that more rational than the ineffective criminal-justice approach in our country."

Sen. John Kerry (Massachusetts)

One of the race's leading liberals and top two fundraisers, Kerry told the New Yorker in 2002 that he had smoked pot a few times. But "he hasn't been supportive," says Bill Downing of Mass CANN, especially when compared to fellow Massachusetts Democrat Barney Frank.

The Senator has told constituents he supports retaining the HEA's student-loan ban, notes Downing, and pushed for more interdiction during his 16 years on the Senate Foreign Relations Committee. He did vote against the Methamphetamine Anti-Proliferation Act of 1999 (which could have outlawed publishing pot-growing advice), and may have indicated some support for medical marijuana. However, according to Allen St. Pierre of NORML, Kerry would not answer Dr. Lester Grinspoon's repeated requests that he sponsor Frank's medical-pot bill in the Senate.

Sen. Joseph Lieberman (Connecticut)

Al Gore's running mate in the 2000 election, Lieberman was a sponsor of the RAVE Act in 2002, which as enacted this year makes it easier for the Feds to prosecute rave promoters -- or anyone letting people get high in their house, if you read the law literally. Arguably the most conservative of the nine Democrats in the race, he did oppose congressional attempts to suppress DC's 1998 medical-marijuana vote, but he also sponsored a resolution condemning state medical-pot initiatives. His censorious stand on video games and popular music also puts him in untrustworthy territory.

Rep. Richard Gephardt (Missouri)

Gephardt, the former House minority leader, has concentrated his campaign on economic issues and health care. He doesn't seem to have spent much time thinking about drugs, says Nadelmann. "I've never heard him make a statement one way or the other," says Dan Viets of Missouri NORML. However, he voted for the 1998 resolution against medical marijuana, which passed 310-93.

Former Gov. Howard Dean (Vermont)

Dean's strong opposition to the Iraq war and support for gay marriage have won him credentials as a liberal, but his legislative arm-twisting and veto threats killed Vermont's medical-marijuana bill in 2002. "My opposition to medical marijuana is based on science, not based on ideology," he told the liberaloasis.com Website in May, adding that medical use should be approved by the Food and Drug Administration, not by "political means."

The former governor's rhetoric is good, says Nadelmann -- he has called the Drug War a failure, and criticized mandatory-minimum sentences -- but on the issues that actually crossed his desk, medical marijuana and methadone maintenance, he was "among the worst."

Sen. Bob Graham (Florida)

Graham has the strongest Drug Warrior record of any of the nine. He sponsored the Ecstasy Prevention Act of 2000. As governor of Florida -- during what St. Pierre calls "the Miami Vice years" -- he claimed credit for the state's first mandatory-minimum law for drug smugglers. His Website advocates building more prisons. However, he may not be completely closed-minded about medical marijuana.

A coauthor of the 2001 PATRIOT Act, Graham has criticized Bush for invading Iraq instead of shoring up domestic security and going after al-Qaeda.

Sen. John Edwards (North Carolina)

Edwards told the San Francisco Chronicle in May that he supported more study on medical marijuana, but "wouldn't change the law now" -- a stance St. Pierre calls "weaselly." A first-term senator, he appears to be positioning himself as a Clintonesque candidate, a vaguely populist lawyer who can appeal to both Southerners and liberals and has already raised over $7 million.

"I don't think he has the grit," says North Carolina medical-marijuana activist Jean Marlowe. Edwards "did inquire why I couldn't have my Marinol," when she protested federal prison authorities denying her medication, she relates -- but so did Republican Rep. Charles Taylor, a medical-marijuana foe.

Rev. Al Sharpton (New York)

The New York activist hasn't taken a specific position on pot, but has been active in the movement to reform the state's harsh Rockefeller drug laws. Sharpton has also been up front in protesting police killing people in botched drug busts, such as Alberta Spruill, a 57-year-old Harlem woman who died of a heart attack -- literally scared to death -- after police smashed in her door and set off a stun grenade in an oops-wrong-address raid on her apartment in May.

Former Sen. Carol Moseley-Braun (Illinois)

Moseley-Braun, the first black woman elected to the Senate, has verbally supported decriminalizing pot -- though not legalizing it -- since the 1970s, but "never did anything to make it happen" during her 1993-99 term, says St. Pierre, and her staff made it clear that it wasn't one of her priorities. Her main issues have been criticizing Bush for invading Iraq, endangering civil liberties, and cutting taxes on the rich.

Steven Wishnia is former news editor of High Times.

One-armed Bennett

It's not nice to celebrate the misfortunes of others, but William Bennett deserves it.

Bennett, federal drug czar during the Bush I administration, has been the self-appointed moral arbiter of the nation, author of "The Book of Virtue" and "The Death of Outrage." Last weekend, the Washington Monthly revealed that he is also a compulsive gambler, losing $340,000 at the slots in one day in Atlantic City last year and $500,000 in two days in Las Vegas last month.

We don't have a problem with gambling. Lay off our pot-smoking, and we won't care if you want to lay five units on the Jets minus-3 over Denver. Ain't nobody's business but your own. But Bennett is the man behind some of the harshest and most fanatical drug policies in US history, and such a self-righteous prig that we have to enjoy the sight of him getting sodomized by his own petard. There hasn't been a scandal this tasty since fundamentalist preacher Jimmy Swaggart got caught with a cheap hooker in a cheap motel outside New Orleans in 1988.

Bennett's drug policies are not ancient history. Current federal Drug Czar John Walters is his protégé, dubbed "Bennett's Mini-Me" by the Drug Policy Alliance's Ethan Nadelmann. Drug use is "morally wrong," they argue, because it constitutes defiance of lawful authority, and prohibition is a weapon of Nixonian cultural warfare.

That ideology is the basis for the Bush II regime's mass prosecutions of medical-marijuana users and glass-pipe manufacturers, their ads claiming that pot-smokers finance al-Qaeda. In their 1996 book "Body Count," Walters and Bennett expanded that worldview into a denunciation of the '60s counterculture, blaming its celebration of getting high and its "expansive notion of 'rights'" as the philosophical progenitor of the unhuman, remorseless teenage "superpredators" spawned by ghetto welfare mothers. Ironically, crack-trade violence peaked during Bush I's term, when Bennett was drug czar and Walters his aide.

"Body Count" largely ignored that fact. Instead, Bennett and Walters used the cheap debating trick of citing the worst hard-drug horror stories and applying them to marijuana as part of the scattergun category of "illegal drugs." While most people would agree that the worst drug problems are the junkie who steals anything they can snatch or scam, the crack gangs who hit four-year-olds with stray bullets while battling over housing-project turf, or the methamphetamine lab that threatens to blow up a trailer park, Bennett and Walters argue that the casual user is the problem, because "casual use is the vector by which drug use spreads."

In other words, drug users who haven't screwed up their lives should be punished, because nobody wants to be an emaciated, HIV-positive $5 crack whore whose kids are in foster care; but people can look at a pot-smoking lawyer or basketball player and think marijuana isn't so bad. Bennett and Walters acknowledged the argument that marijuana should be legal because relatively few pot-smokers develop serious drug problems, but dismissed it with the statement that there are relatively few casual users of heroin.

In his zeal to once again make the United States a moral nation, Bennett condemns a host of immoralities, from pot to promiscuity, homosexuality to hip-hop. In his view, Bill Clinton lying about an extramarital blowjob was a far viler abomination than Richard Nixon lying about bugging his opponents or Ronald Reagan lying about funding terrorists in Central America. But oddly, he doesn't include gambling. He denounces the '60s counterculture for promoting instant gratification instead of hard work, self-denial, and thrift, but what could be more instant gratification than pulling a slot machine or playing video poker?

Bennett claims that he more or less broke even -- which sounds like denial -- and that he wasn't blowing the "milk money." But the sums he was blowing show contempt for the working people of America. He lost more money in one day than most people can spend on a house. The $500 chips that he tossed into slot machines and lost a few seconds later represent almost three weeks take-home pay for a woman de-boning catfish in Mississippi, four or five 12-hour shifts behind the wheel for a New York taxi driver, a week's worth of class time and preparing lesson plans for a teacher. (As Secretary of Education under Reagan, Bennett sneered that teachers who were union members cared more about making money than they did about educating children.)

"I view it as drinking," Bennett told the Washington Monthly when asked about his gambling. "If you can't handle it, don't do it."

That sounds exactly like the libertarian argument for legalizing drugs. Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.

Steven Wishnia is news editor at High Times and author of "Exit 25 Utopia" (The Imaginary Press).

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