Tuesday, December 19, 2006

We're sitting on a goldmine

A recent report suggests that America's biggest cash crop is marijuana. I can't say that I'm surprised. Any 'legitimate' farmer here has to deal with a bewildering number of government departments, all of which are largely worthless, idle, useless and barely competent bureaucratic behemoths. (That's just my own view, you understand, but is based on some personal experience). There's the FDA, the USDA, the OSHA, more recently the INS, not to mention those thieving bastards at the IRS. That's just Federal agencies, mark you, never mind the various State offices that get involved. The only government involvement that a Californian dope-grower needs to worry about is making sure the local sheriff gets his monthly bung on time. If you want to make something profitable, for Christ's sake keep the US Government away from it. Just ask Kenneth Lay.

In the UK things are rather different, where agriculture is now largely a matter of stuffing a load of sheep on a hillside and slaughtering the one's that survive through to spring, whilst claiming EU money for leaving the only productive land you have fallow. This frees up British farmer's time to concentrate on their main business, which is driving around the country in a brand new Discovery bleating about fuel prices, the Common Agricultural Policy, and how they're stricken by poverty.

I've told the University that by keeping the Botanical Gardens going in their present state they are sitting on a veritable goldmine. The funding potential of sustaining non-native plants in expensive greenhouses fizzled out years ago, whereas they could be cultivating some half-decent whacky in there. It wouldn't work on most campuses of course, the crop would be constantly raided by the undergraduates, but here at A Well-Known West Coast University the undergraduates are either too bourgeois to smoke weed, or too scared of getting fried by the campus filth. However, so far my proposal has met with skepticism, and even some censure. Fucking old poofs.

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