Things to do with a sociology degree

My step-daughter Hanna texted me this morning with the news that she'd just served Marc Emery a hot-dog. Apparently the plucky Persian had one of his food "trucks" towed to Queens Park today for the Global Marijuana March. Shrewd call, Hoonan!

Which is what brought Emery to the scene, logically enough. I told her to put a Wally-burger on the menu in honour of the original Prince of Pot, Wally Tucker. 

So Hanna is slinging hot-dogs with her soc degree. But that's not the only road open to a recent graduate. You could be an Uber driver. Many soc grads find meaningful work in retail.

Hey, the sky's the limit!

There's no such thing as too much education...

Personally, I found my sociology degree hardly held back my welding career at all. Sure, the other folks on the shop floor will view you with a degree of suspicion at first, but one thing sociology grads understand is how to blend in.

Hanna in Hoonan's food truck.

Me in Irving's shipyard.

There's always the option of more education, of course. Go for the graduate degree. Go all the way and get yourself a Doctor Phil. Your Uber clients will be massively impressed when you drop that tidbit. 

Even thirty years ago the job market was tight for soc grads. I remember a sessional at UGuelph wingeing about the lack of tenure-track opportunities back in the early eighties. He'd been on the sessional track with his Ph.D. for ten years at that point, and the problem has gotten exponentially worse since. He often expressed his regret at not having become a high-school teacher instead.

Which is not to say there are zero tenure track opportunities. Who gets a crack at them though is a mighty sketchy business. White males would be pretty much SOL. White females perhaps slightly less so. What's required, beyond a visible identity as a member of an oppressed subset of society, is an appetite for political correctitude and advanced ass-kissing skills.

Hanna has more people skills when she's sleep-walking than I could ever conjure on my best day, but I'm afraid she shares my skills deficit in the ass-kissing department.

But lets not forget that a university education isn't intended as job training. Unless you're in medicine or engineering, of course. It's about building character and building a network, don't ya know!

I shared many a pint with my various profs over the years in the interest of building a network. One of the folks I really liked was a guy named Ian Currie. He was a sessional, and if I recall correctly, he didn't even have a Doctor Phil to wave around, but he had a best-selling book out at the time which I suppose, in the eyes of the hiring committee, made up for that short-coming.

Alas, he took himself to his reward before my budding networking skills had a chance to fully blossom. 

And Hanna met some illustrious mentors whilst doing her degree at York, including a couple of folks I'd studied with thirty years before. The most illustrious by far was Mel Watkins. I didn't realize the old pinko was still alive till Hanna nonchalantly mentioned that he often walked her home after his evening class. Don't know if a letter of recommendation from Mel would still open many doors.

Whatever else he is or was, there's no getting around the fact that he's still a white male.

I've suggested to Hanna that she should consider a law degree. Sure, there's plenty of folks with those who are under-employed too, but Hanna has the smarts and people skills to stand out in the crowd.

She's all in if I pay for it.

Well kid, I've got a lovely batch of seedlings that I'm planning to put in just over the fence-line just as soon as I'm sure the danger of frost is over for good. The way Justin is going about his legalization gambit will ensure a healthy grey-market for ganja for years to come.

There's hope with dope, even when you have a sociology degree.

RIP Mike Baldasaro

When Wally went to his reward not too long ago, we wondered how long Mike was gonna keep on ticking without his long-term partner in "crime" by his side.

Not very long, as it's turned out. Yup, last week Mike joined Wally in that great hemp garden in the sky. Mike and Wally, or Wally and Mike, were pioneers in the legal pot movement for most of my lifetime. They've faded from memory a bit since younger and more media-savvy marijuana advocates joined the fray, but let's never forget their contribution to the battle!

I personally never met either of them, but we had mutual acquaintances, and by all accounts these guys were solid down-to-earth folks who would do anything for anybody they considered a friend. They say Mike was a little bit over-protective of Wally, but over the long term that was a good thing. Wally was just a little too trusting. He'd give interviews to random reporters and the narcs would be knocking on his door the next day. He needed an interlocutor.

That would be Mike.

They've both gone to a better place, and when you look around, you'd have to admit they made it in the nick of time.

RIP, boys!

More proof that Canada is governed by morons

So Health Minister Rona Ambrose is outraged that the Supreme Court has decreed that consumers of medical marijuana will no longer be forced to set it afire and inhale it into their lungs in order to consume it.

Outraged, no less!

Yup, you can legally get a prescription for marijuana in Canada, but it you deviate from the technicalities of the law and bake up a batch of special brownies, you're a criminal. The only way to legally take the stuff is by smoking it.

That's just stupid!

Until today, when the court ruled in favour of common sense. Now, that five year old prescribed marijuana to control his epilepsy will no longer have to fire up a fattie to take his medicine.

Ms. Ambrose claims she is outraged because marijuana has never gone through the formal testing and approval process to scientifically prove it is effective and safe. That's another way of saying Big Pharma hasn't given weed the thumbs up, but that's because they fear it'll cut into their obscene profits. Here's a list of Big Pharma products deemed safe but later withdrawn because they were found to have unintended side effects, like killing people.

So Ms. Ambrose is outraged, but somewhere high in the sky, Wally Tucker is smiling!

The prince of pot and the king

The news that "the prince of pot" has survived his ordeal in the US prison system and made it back to Canada was certainly welcome.

Incarcerated on bogus trafficking charges and left to twist in the wind by the Harper regime, Marc Emery has vowed to invest his considerable energies in the Justin Trudeau election campaign, as revenge on the Harperites.

Vengeance is not a virtuous motivator, my friend.

The Harper regime is entering the election cycle caught on the back foot. Its single economic initiative, promoting tar sludge at all costs, isn't going anywhere.

It is further discombobulated by the continuous stream of revelations about its connivance in the wanton abuse of the Temporary Foreign Worker Program.

The nitty-gritty of the Harper legacy since 2006 rests on two pillars; promoting environmentally degrading and unsustainable tar sands development, and screwing Canadian workers.

That's why the Harper gang is working overtime to change the subject, and the subject they're really keen to change it to is Justin Trudeau's promise to legalize marijuana.





That's from some anti-Trudeau pamphlets Harperites have been mailing out.

Yup, we haven't seen such silly scare tactics since the Reefer Madness era.

But no matter; hard-core neanderthals in the Harper cabinet are mailing out this kind of anti-pot, anti-Trudeau propaganda, hoping to scare little old ladys into talking this topic up at their church socials.

"Oh did you see where that whipper-snapper Trudeau wants to sell marywanna to the children at the candy counter in the corner store, Mildred? My gosh, what's this world coming to?"

Ya. So I don't think this is a climate wherein overt support from Emery is going to help Trudeau.

Emery should ask himself, what would Wally do?

Wally is of course the late and much-lamented Wally Tucker. If Marc Emery is the Prince of Pot, Wally is the undisputed King.

Wally had established the Church of the Universe long before young Marc twisted up his first doobie. And the holy sacrament of the Church of the Universe was the weed of wisdom.

So do the right thing, Emery. You can help Trudeau by shutting up for awhile. You've been in the slammer for five years; get caught up with your family or something, at least till the election is over.

What would Wally do?

The fight for fair marijuana distribution in Canada

It's hard to tell which way the winds are blowing in the marijuana decriminalization evolution in Canada.

Harper's tough-on-crimers have eased up slightly on who can be prescribed medical marijuana, but at the same time they're taking steps to ensure that legal weed and the profits thereof go to corporate types rather than to small scale cottage-industry folks who grow for their own use and may have a little surplus left over to share with friends.

Guy's like Steven Stairs will no longer be able to grow their own medicinal pot if the Harperites get their way. He'll be forced to buy it from the corporate growers Harper has been empowering.

The judge's decision on Friday merely delays this process. The issue has in effect been kicked up the courts, so it could take years before we get that Supreme Court ruling. In the meantime everybody is operating in more or less of a legal limbo.

The blessing here is that it gives regular folks an opportunity to draw a little bit of publicity to the matter. Why should the cultivation and distribution of marijuana be rendered just another commodity in our consumer supply chain, just another profit centre for the corporate douchebags who've managed to take the joy out of everything else they touch?

Marijuana is a sacred sacrament to some, a medicinal herb to others, and a nice way to unwind after a long day for others still. Wally Tucker fought his whole life to get respect for pot; he wasn't fighting so money guys in suits could build a corporate empire.

Let's twist one up and see if we can come up with some better ideas.

FULLY LEGAL MARIJUANA!

Yup, you can smoke it, grow it, buy it, sell it...

In Uruguay.

Yes, down there in South America Uruguay has upped the ante on Colorado and Washington. In Uruguay we're not talking the weasel talk of "decriminalization."

We're talking full-on legal as apple pie!

Mind you, it only took the UN a few hours to declare legal marijuana illegal.

But that's what you'd expect from the UN. They do the bidding for the international criminal cartels who profit from illegal drugs and keep the international banking cartels flush. Not to mention a goodly percentage of the UN's member states.

It's a great day for the weed 'o wisdom.

Wally Tucker, may he rest in peace, is probably signing up for Spanish lessons even as I write this!

Where was the Office of Religious Freedom when Wally Tucker needed it?

How ironic that not a year after the passing of Church of the Universe founder Reverend Wally Tucker, the same country that hounded him to death for his religious beliefs has established an "Office of Religious Freedom."

This wouldn't have helped Wally in any event, because its mandate is limited to sniffing out religious intolerance outside of Canada. That's because inside of Canada we only persecute people for their religious beliefs if the ruling class find them offensive.

And that of course couldn't be classified as "religious intolerance" because we Canadians are champions of self-righteous do-goodery, so it must be something else.

Wheel of Karma

So this dude wins 25 million in the lotto.

And he does what any reasonable lotto winner would do.

In Robert Erb's case, that would be donating a half million to the campaign to legalize marijuana.

Good on you dude!

You could have just slunk away and let your new-found millions keep the cops at bay.

Instead, you've thrown your lot in with the legalize it camp.

Wally Tucker would be proud!

Wally Tucker; thanks for the memories

Wally used to attend his frequent Guelph court dates wearing absolutely nothing.

That would always send the courtroom staff into a tizzy. Wally and his trusty sidekick Mike Baldasaro would be flanked by half a dozen court workers holding up towels and blankets to maintain a semblance of decorum.

But I do believe Mr. Tucker made his point.

R.I.P. Wally Tucker

Kipling just called me with the news that Wally Tucker has gone to his reward.

Rest in peace Wally! You were an inspiration to millions.

This blog has always championed Wally's campaign for sensible pot laws. The fight is far from over, but thanks Wally for the leadership.

I'll have to twist one up in Wally's honor.

Right now.

And as for you, Mr. Tucker, fire one up with the angels...

Happy 420!

Not sure where this 420 stuff originated.

Originally I couldn't figure out why the pot-heads were celebrating Hitler's birthday. Just doesn't add up. Pot-heads... Hitler?

Lets twist one up and celebrate the Fuhrer?

Then they told me it was also Bob Marley's birthday.

OK, that makes a bit more sense.

Not that pot and making sense necessarily go together all the time...

But for the think tank here at Falling Downs we're a little more comfortable with some birthdays than with others.

At Falling Downs we like to celebrate 420 more than once a year. As you know, 4:20 comes around every 24 hours.

And whether you fire one up once a year or once a day, don't forget to celebrate the folks who have brought the weed of wisdom into the mainstream.

Kipling.

Wally Tucker.

Marc Emery.

Willie Nelson.

Now turn off your computer and go twist one up...

Rapture postponed indefinitely

Tell me it ain't so... Harold Camping has fessed up.

He got it wrong.

Camping is the guy who claimed that the Lord told him that The Rapture was going to happen last May 21.

May 21 came and went. No Rapture. Camping announced that somewhere between the Lord's lips and Camping's ear the message got mixed up. He was off by five months.

Five months came and went. Still no Rapture. Damn!

By then I'd lost faith in Camping, if not in the Lord. Mind you, he got me good the first time. Not that I was one of those dupes who sold all my stuff and sat on the front porch with my bags packed, waiting. But I did let the phone and electric bills slide more than I otherwise would have.

So now Camping admits he has no clue when the Rapture might be. He's going back to the Holy Scriptures for a thorough reread. And not a moment too soon; Camping is 90 years old. How much rereading does he have time for?

I've got a bit of friendly advice for Harold, and I hope he takes it in the spirit of brotherly love in which I intend it. Why not take a page out of Pat Robertson's hymnal and campaign for the legalization of marijuana instead of the end of the world?

Then both Reverends would be on board with that other Reverend, Wally Tucker. Wally and his Church of the Universe have been advocating for the decriminalization of the weed of wisdom for almost fifty years now.

Like Wally says, why hold your breath waiting for The Rapture when you can have a little bit of rapture every day!

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!"