Kipling and the Prince of Pot

No, I'm not talking about Marc Emery.

Emery, as far as I know, is cooling his heels in a Mississippi prison, getting three nutritious meals per day and a roof over his head courtesy of the American taxpayer. All for the crime of sending marijuana seeds through the mail from his home base in Vancouver.

I'm talking about the real Prince of Pot, Wally Tucker. I'm not sure what Wally is up to these days, but I'm sure he's fired up the bong a few times while he plans it. Compared to Wally, Marc Emery is a mere pretender to the throne. If Marc is the Prince, Tucker is the King of Kings.

About forty years ago Wally started his own religion. The Church of the Universe. Made the weed of wisdom the official sacrament of his church. Every pot bust after that Wally and his faithful sidekick would show up in court and claim their case was a violation of their religious freedoms.

Usually they'd show up in court naked. That was another pillar of his religion. Thou shalt toke. Thou shalt show up in court with your billy-bong waving around. Hey, you start your own religion, you make up whatever rules you want. You go Wally!

That's a staple truth for anybody who starts their own religion. Isn't that the whole point of starting your own religion? If you're happy with the status quo, why bother? Would Brigham Young have started his cult if he was happy just to be another Christian? Would Jesus Christ have started his cult if he was happy just to be another Jew? Of course not.

That's the thing with religions and cults. A cult needs to acquire a certain critical mass before it's generally accepted as a religion. That's where David Koresh missed the boat, and Jimmy Jones too. And Wally Tucker. They never acquired the critical mass.

So Wally would show up in court, pecker hanging out, faithful sidekick, also naked, in tow. Half a dozen court employees busy throwing blankets over them to hide their unmentionable parts, and the judge never ever gave them the respect that he would give, say, the pope. In the eyes of the judge ( hangin' Hank in most cases) Wally was just another wacko pot-head trying to get his own cult off the ground.

So what's all this got to do with my pal Kipling? Well, for the longest time I thought he was just a fringe member of Wally's cult. After all, he was taking that holy sacrament more times in a day than my Muslim friends bow to Mecca. I actually thought for many years he was trying to recruit me. Trying to build that critical mass as it were.

Then I'm talking to him the other day and he tells me he just saw Wally at the family reunion. What? Ya, me and Wally are second cousins.

"He's spread more pot around than Marc Emery and he gets away with it by calling it a religious sacrament. Emery's in jail and Wally's at the family reunion!"