Poilievre Misdiagnoses Opioid Crisis

Conservative Party leader Pierre Poilievre misdiagnoses the opioid crisis in the latest video, “Everything Feels Broken.” In the five-minute video, Poilievre uses a Vancouver tent city as his backdrop to make a case for the drug war. For a decade, British Columbia (among other Canadian cities) has provided a clean, safe supply of drugs for the addicted. He calls it a “failed experiment” brought in by “woke Liberal and NDP governments,” before saying he’ll end this policy and instead put […]

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In Memory of Jesse the Chef

This is the eulogy I gave for my friend on Tuesday. To honor his memory I’m sharing it here with the larger community. Please keep his family in your thoughts through this impossibly difficult time.

In the early morning hours of November 15th we lost our brother Jesse unexpectedly. Affectionately known as Woodie, or Jesse the Chef, he was a loving son and brother, a devoted boyfriend, successful entrepreneur, but maybe most importantly, a true friend to so, so many, his loss will be felt forever. He was only 29 years old.

It’s hard to summarize someone as complex as Jesse. While most people knew him for his incredible skills as a chef, or his larger than life internet personality, those who know him closely knew he was so much more than online banter and a great meal. Dude was a huge nerd too. Y’all know about the Pokémon tattoos, right? He’d dive down whatever weirdo rabbit hole with me, and somehow, he made even those cool. Dude has presence, and the confidence and humility to push his ideas to the next level, and to get us all to buy in.

Raised in Memphis – on the South side with his Mom but getting game from his dad on the North side, he was residing more recently in Los Angeles. Jesse was proof that you could take the kid out of the south, but that your home never really leaves you. But man, he loved where he was from. You could feel it in his energy as much as you could hear it in his voice. Anytime anyone from Memphis did anything we would hear about it. I can still hear him in my head saying ‘You know where he’s from, my boy?’ He played that ‘Memphis, memphis, memphis’ clip maybe 6,000 times. Sure he was doing what he needed to out West, but he celebrated where he was from every chance he got – and he made you want to go there too. I know I speak for all of his friends and followers when I say his stories from his trips back home made it sound better than Vegas. I’m heartbroken that he wasn’t here to see us congregate for him in his home town.

But in LA – LA’s not always the friendliest place, but somehow he made it his home. And in his presence it really felt like one for all of us transplants trying to make something of ourselves. He welcomed us in in a way I haven’t felt often in my life, let alone in the city. He cared. He supported. He uplifted whatever he loved, let alone his people. He’d raise hell for us…

And Maiya – their relationship was a model for us all. You don’t expect much to last in today’s world, but we were all sure they would. They were inseparable. They always matched. It was like you were watching a live action Rom Com – they we’re ALWAYS laughing.

And his parties – those were legendary. A who’s who of ballers from across the art, music and cannabis landscape would pull up to his house not just for a plate, but for the energy. To be around this magnet of cool. 

Truth be told, I just wanted to hang at his house any chance I got. Everyone I ever met there was the highest caliber of person, and I have so many more true, lifelong friends than I would have had I not known him. He’s the reason I started talking to Fidel, and Metro. He was like a cheat code for my coverage. But more than that, even those times where we would just watch whatever popped up on YouTube in his living room were somehow more special than your typical interaction with friends. There was a warmth there that him and Maiya fostered that I have only ever experienced in that house. You were going home every time you stopped by. That laugh. The commentary. The conspiracy theories. The incredible weed. Endless amounts of incredible weed. No one left sober or hungry, it was like an unspoken rule. It was a special combination of magic that hooked anyone fortunate enough to experience it. I know I speak for many of his friends when I say that I feel blessed I got to exist in his presence, and my heart breaks not only for our loss, but for all those that won’t get to experience it. So many people have reached out the last week to say they wished they got to know him, people who I’d told about him, and random strangers who watched him online, and honestly so do I. He was hard not to love.

But that was Jesse. He quantified the weird, and celebrated his love. He brought people together, and curated a life most could only lust after. We talked about hustling and how to make it – but the truth was, he had. Jesse was it. Yes he was an inspiration for so many that didn’t actually know him, but also for those truly close to him. He created his own wave and rode it with a confidence we don’t often see from even the greatest of showmen. He made Weed & Wagyu a lifestyle we all wanted to be a part of. Even some kid like me, who was fine just eating McDonald’s, was all of a sudden trying to play high end, and wearing Dior, because of Jesse. It was wild.

To his Parents, I hope you got to see how bright your son was shining. I know the internet is one thing, but believe me when I tell you that love was real. Dude was good EVERYWHERE. People would stop him in public for pictures, or just to tell him they loved his posts. And he would talk about you all the time, I remember how excited he was when his Dad was coming out. He wanted to show you off. He was so proud to be your son.

And to Maiya, girl he loved you more than anything. It is so clear that you two were soulmates – you were the dream for those of us who haven’t found our person. You gave us faith. I know nothing will ever replace that massive hole in your chest, but know this army Jesse built around himself is here for you forever, and his memory will live on through us all.

Selfishly, I am devastated. I never expected to lose my friend – we had so much left to do. He had so much still to share. We talked about doing an art show together, and I let my anxiety hold it back. I didn’t think I mattered, he was the guy. But he wanted to do it with me, and I never pushed it through. And I was supposed to see him the weekend before he passed. But I was tired, so I said ‘next time’. I thought there would be one. A next time… You always think you’re going to have more time. But let me tell you, you don’t always. There’s no rhyme or reason to it, sometimes it’s just over. And I know I speak for many of us when I say it breaks my heart that I’ll never get to see my friend again. Or call him. Or text him. Or get roasted in my DMs when I post something stupid. Or something that he thinks is Lemon Cherry Gelato. I hope he knows how much we loved him.

I will hold onto the last conversations we had. To the last night we saw each other, at the Montalban in Hollywood, seeing ourselves on the big screen for Fidel’s premiere. That was some bucket list shit, but it wasn’t supposed to be the last. I know I barely scratched the surface of what our friend had to share, but I feel blessed for the time I had. I will carry it with me. I will carry him with me, as I know the rest of us will as well.

Now, I don’t know what it is yet, but I know we have to do something down here [in Memphis], for Jesse and Memphis – a real celebration, not a mourning party, because it’s what he would have wanted. Putting on for Memphis was quintessential Jesse. 

And I know we need to support Maiya however we can, because she is what he cared about most. She was his world, as much as he was hers. 

And I think we all need to start cooking more, because it’s what he loved doing, and it will bring us closer to him – especially those of us who are terrible at it, if only so that we’ll hear that deep little chuckle over our shoulder from the master who we all know could make it way better than we were. I know it would have made him laugh to see us try. But most importantly because we all need to keep Jesse’s vision, Weed & Wagyu alive – however that works for you, I won’t judge if it’s American Beef. 

And finally, we’ve got to make sure we tell everyone we love that we love them as often as possible. If there was one thing Jesse was great at it was giving flowers. You never know when it’s going to be the last time. 

In Jesse’s honor, no more ‘next time’s.

I love you man, I’ll see you soon. Weed & Wagyu forever.

The post In Memory of Jesse the Chef appeared first on High Times.

Does CBD Modulate THC? No, Says Study

Does CBD modulate the effects of THC? No, says a new study. For years, both experience and research have indicated that CBD has a mitigating effect when consumed with THC. For example, budtenders suggest a THC-strain balanced with CBD for new consumers to avoid overwhelming them. When an experienced stoner has eaten an edible or taken some oil and feels too high – they use CBD to take the edge off. But a recent study suggests this is all placebo. […]

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Five Vintage Weed Jams

“Reefer Man” – Cab Calloway

Originally titled “Have You Ever Met That Funny Reefer Man,” this song was written in 1932 by J. Russel Robinson, with lyrics by Andy Razaf, and recorded by Cab Calloway. As the song was written five years before the Marihuana Tax Act—reefer was still legal in almost all of America at the time. It was first recorded by Calloway, with several popular covers, including one by Big Bad Voodoo Daddy. Calloway lived a long life—long enough to appear in the 1980 Saturday Night Live-inspired film The Blues Brothers.

“You’se A Viper” – Stuff Smith

In Harlem, New York, people started calling reefer smokers “vipers” in the 1920s and 1930s. “Viper culture” was centered on good jazz music and reefer. This classic B-side was first recorded by Stuff Smith and the Onyx Club Boys in 1936. It was released as the B-side to the song “After You’ve Gone.” The song was retitled again and again to correct the broken, casual English. Fats Waller’s 1943 cover version mentions “Mighty Mezz”—referring to Milton Mezzrow, a Jewish saxophone and clarinet player who also is synonymous with viper culture as a famed marijuana supplier.

“When I Get Low I Get High” – Ella Fitzgerald

This song was recorded in April 1936 by Chick Webb and his orchestra, with stunning vocals on the chorus performed by none other than Ella Fitzgerald. For the most part, Fitzgerald tried to cultivate a wholesome image, but she also was very street savvy in regards to the underground jazz community. In the 1930s, Fitzgerald sang about both reefer and cocaine, such as in Wacky Dust, also recorded with Webb. Fitzgerald went on to scoop up 13 Grammy Awards and an additional 20 nominations.

“Jack, I’m Mellow” – Trixie Smith

This song was used relatively recently as the series theme song for Disjointed starring Kathy Bates. Originally recorded in November 1938, the song was included on Reefer Blues: Volume One, a compilation album of vintage blues songs, featuring some of the other tunes on this list. Louis Armstrong played the cornet on some of Smith’s best known songs, and she was active during the vaudeville era. Smith’s birthdate is completely unknown, but she was born sometime between 1885 and 1895.

“That Cat is High” – The Ink Spots

That’s one high cat… Here’s one that will take you back in time. The Ink Spots originally released “That Cat is High” written by J. Mayo Williams and The Ink Spots, and released it on the single “Oh! Red” in 1938. The Ink Spots were an American vocal jazz group that gained international stardom in the 1930s and 1940s. Their accessible vocal style is thought to have helped lead to doo-wop and modern R&B. The Ink Spots were finally inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1989.

This article appears in the June 2022 issue of High Times. Subscribe here.

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¿Cómo se Compone un Hit? Shigant-G, el CBD y su Trabajo como Productor de la Crema Musical Argentina

Nota por Hernán Panessi publicada originalmente en El Planteo. Más artículos por El Planteo en High Times en Español.

Síguenos en Instagram (@El.Planteo) y Twitter (@ElPlanteo).

Cuando arrancó con la producción musical, Nicolás “Shigant-G” Romano tenía un problema de atención y se mareaba viendo tantas perillas y canales. Pero, mágicamente, ordenó su cabeza en colores: “Los rojos son los que más consumen energía en una canción y llevan un nivel de importancia superior frente al resto de colores como el naranja, amarillo, verde y celeste”, cuenta.

A este método, el joven detrás de El Origen de Acru, Hecho a Mano de YSY A, “R.I.P.” de Cazzu, entre otras producciones, lo llamó “Método Arcoíris” y lo compiló en este, su primer libro, donde sistematiza su experiencia. Muy resumidamente: explica como hacer un hit.

Contenido relacionado: Acru Habla de Todo: Nueva Banda, Disco en Proceso, Mirada de la Escena y su Futuro en el Freestyle

Es la guía paso a paso que me hubiese gustado tener cuando me inicié en el mundo de la producción musical para diseñar el sonido de los álbumes que pasaron por mis oídos”, explica Shigant-G.

Hacelo vos mismo

El productor es un convencido de la revolución de las habitaciones, del boom del do it yourself, de las bondades de la producción hogareña: “Siento que es posible crear, grabar y mezclar tus canciones y álbumes usando cuatro elementos: un portátil, una interfaz, un micrófono y unos auriculares”, asegura.

“La magia está en la ecuación y no en la emoción”.

Por caso, su libro está orientado a productores musicales, artistas, mixers y creadores de contenido que están dando sus primeros pasos. Y, más allá de las técnicas, Shigant-G hace hincapié en el desarrollo personal y profesional contando cómo transitó su camino en la música.

Como hacer un hit: ¿qué hay detrás de las canciones que suenan en todos lados?

“Para que una canción funcione tiene que sorprender, emocionar y ser fácil de recordar”, narra este fanático del sonido de Dr. Dre, Fito Páez. Dave Brubeck y Hans Zimmer.

¿Qué canción de la historia de la música le hubiese gustado grabar? “Cherish the day” de Sade.

Contenido relacionado: Entrevista con YSY A: Cómic, Tango y el Fin del Trap

—Según tu experiencia, ¿cuál es el primer paso para grabar una canción?

—Usualmente, utilizo una instrumental de algún beatmaker de confianza o algún type beat de YouTube que me despierte una emoción. Puede ser de desamor, de euforia o simplemente de algo que me toque un nervio que hace años tenía guardado. Con la emoción a flor de piel, tarareo varias melodías sobre el beat. Hago de 3 a 6 grabaciones lo más rápido posible para no perder el fogonazo inicial. Luego comienzo a elegir las frases que más me gustan. Una vez terminado, compongo la letra sobre esas melodías. En el libro cuento más formas.

—De paso, van unos meses desde que salió. ¿Cómo viene el recibimiento del libro?

—Estoy sorprendido y muy feliz con los resultados. Escribí el libro con la intención de poner al servicio mi experiencia a una comunidad que lo está recibiendo con mucho amor y compartiendo de forma genuina. Vamos por la segunda tanda sold out. Lo que más me pone feliz es que la intención principal, desde el inicio, fue ayudar y eso está ocurriendo.

Respeto por el CBD y la historia de su abuela

Entretanto, el productor reconoce que su relación con el cannabis “es espectacular”.

Durante muchos años fumó marihuana, aunque -según narra- “su experiencia era limitada con su uso en todas sus formas”.

Sentía que le daba placer y, además, le servía para aplacar su ansiedad.

Con el paso del tiempo, su actitud pasional por hacer cosas, una manera intensa que roza la obsesividad, se volvió bastante dependiente: tuvo que dejar de fumar y buscar otros métodos para encontrar el foco. Así llegaron a su vida el deporte, la meditación y, fundamentalmente, el CBD.

Contenido relacionado: Cómo Tomar CBD: Aquí Exploramos Cuatro Métodos

“Al principio, cuando dejé el porro, como en toda ruptura, estaba enojado o confundido”.

Hasta que, hace unos años, su abuela empezó a utilizar aceite de cannabis para paliar sus dolores. “Ahí entendí el verdadero poder de la planta. Me regaló tiempo con una persona que amo”.

En lo personal, Shigant-G nunca usó el porro como un incentivo para componer: lo ponía lento y a él le gusta estar activo. “Es que me voy por las ramas. Y cuando fumaba, ya no sólo me iba por las ramas, sino que cambiaba de bosque completamente”, reconoce.

Foto de cortesía.

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From the Archives: The High Times Guide to Gurus (1977)

By Rick Fields

Guru means teacher. A guru teaches you your own true nature, which all gurus agree cannot be expressed in words. Lao Tsu said, “Those who know don’t say.” However, that hasn’t stopped anyone from trying, including Lao Tsu.

A guru can act in many ways: as friend, mirror, guide, God or psychic martial arts master. There is also always the possibility that a guru is even crazier than thou. More than one perfect master has turned out to be a perfect con man. Only you can tell, and when dealing with the mercury of your own mind, it ain’t easy.

Gurus, like everybody else, seldom agree with each other. If they did, everything would be simpler, but less interesting. This guide is a line-up of the major-league gurus whose philosophies have become national issues. We’ve omitted a lot of one-horse, 12-apostle gurus on the assumption that people will always go to the advertised brand.

Choosing a guru is a lot like voting for president. It is an act that requires a leap of faith, not to mention Kierkegaard’s teleological suspension of the ethical. What you are about to read may shock you. Look within before you look without. Beware. And be aware.


Bio: Born India, 1931. Entered an ashram at 12, spent the next 20 years meditating, came to New York in 1964. Director, United Nations Meditation Group. Author, 302 books. He is also painter, composer and musician—his latest disc being “Music for Meditation” on the Folkways label.

Philosophy: Emphasizes love, devotion, meditation through the heart and surrender to the guru. Meditates with disciples once or twice a week. “I enter into each individual soul and see what the soul wants from me: peace, light, bliss. Whatever the soul wants I offer in utmost silence.”

Lifestyle: Purity and cleanliness are prerequisites for Sri Chinmoy’s student. Alcohol, cigarettes, drugs and so on, verboten. “Drug addicts, alcoholics or hippies” need not apply. Male disciples wear short hair. “It is my inner feeling,” says Sri Chinmoy, “that when men have short hair they look smarter, more handsome and more charming.” Disciples live in their own homes, but must attend center meetings, unless they have a good excuse.

Drawbacks: His poetry, for one thing. Sri Chinmoy once wrote 843 poems in 24 hours. The quality of the poetry, pious doggerel, shows it. Painting and music, ditto. Disconcerting habit of signaling his entrance into the highest level of samadhi by rolling his eyes halfway up into his skull.

Quote: “To illumine our life we need pure thoughts. Each pure thought is more precious than all the diamonds of the world, for God’s breath abides only in man’s pure thoughts.”

Access: Sri Chinmoy, P.O. Box 32433, Jamaica, N.Y. 11431.


Bio: Born 1931, La Paz, Bolivia. Experienced paralyzing cataleptic attacks at six and a half. Studied martial arts, cabala, Gurdjieff, Buddhism, Confucianism, Zen and got high with Andes Indians. In 1969 in Arica, Chile, he began instructing John Lilly, Claudio Naranjo and others in “a mixture of ashram, monastery and boot camp.”

Philosophy: Arica identifies nine “hypergnostic” systems that manifest on physical, psychological and spiritual levels. The 40-day training clarifies these systems by using “psychocalisthenics”—movement, breathing, diet, “yantras” (mandalic op-art diagrams) mantras and more. The two penultimate steps—said to lead to complete enlightenment—must be taken within the protected space of a monastery.

Lifestyle: Aricans tend to live together, usually sharing apartments or houses. When there are disagreements, or if deeper group harmony is sought, they practice “trespaso,” gazing into the left eye of your partner in order to contact essential being. If it seems that no agreement or unity is possible, a person might find his ego “reduced” (told where they are stuck in no uncertain terms) or “circulated,” asked to move on till they can get it together. Sex, eating, drugs—LSD excepted—cigarettes, alcohol and sickness are permitted most of the time. Aricans tend to live, dress and party in high style.

Drawbacks: You cannot recognize another person’s level until you are there yourself, and you can’t get there yourself without taking the training. The 40-day training—including room and board in lovely rural settings—can cost as much as $1,400.

Quote: “A human being is more than anyone believes.”

Access: Arica, 24 West 57th Street, New York, N.Y. 10019.


Bio: Born Massachusetts, 1936, as Richard Alpert. Ph.D. in psychology. Harvard. In 1961, fellow psych prof Timothy Leary gave him his first hit of psilocybin. Experienced ego death, panic and the calm center behind and beyond it all before he and Leary were fired from Harvard. Lectured around the country about the wonders of psychedelics. Then discovered that no matter what he took or how often he took it, he always came down. Went to India and met an old man wrapped in a blanket, Nirmkaroli Baba, or just plain Maharaji. Maharaji swallowed a whole handful of LSD with no more effect than a slight twinkling of his eyes—he was already “there.” He christened Alpert Ram Dass (servant of Rama) and put him on a strict yogic training program, then sent him back to America, where Ram Dass began lecturing, this time about the spiritual journey. Be Here Now, a book Ram Dass produced with New Mexico’s Lama Foundation, has sold hundreds of thousands of copies. Other books include The Only Dance There Is and Grist for the Mill. His brother has called him Baba Rammed Ass.

Philosophy: Ram Dass teaches Ashtanga, or eight-limbed, yoga including bhakti-devotional song and dance, hatha yoga, meditation and doing good deeds daily. Dass’s main interest, however, is not to teach one form of yoga, but to help people understand the spiritual path. His lectures tend to emphasize the common experience of that journey, often using himself as a humorous example of what not to do. He has been called the stand-up comedian of the karma circuit.

Lifestyle: Ram Dass does not have a center or hold classes, and he claims not to have students. Until recently, he personally answered mail from anyone with a spiritual question. Last year he slipped out of sight—rumor has him back in India, supervising a statue of Hanuman he is building as a memorial to his guru—and all mail is being returned unopened. Everybody is pretty much on their own.

Drawbacks: Whereabouts unknown.

Quote: “Will [life] ever be The Big Ice Cream Cone in the sky?”

Access: Hanuman Foundation, Franklin, New Hampshire 03235.

Courtesy of High Times


Bio: Born India, 1931. Obtained realization at 21, while meditating in a tree. Taught philosophy at Indian universities and traveled around India lecturing, debating and generally causing trouble among the more orthodox Indian guru followers. Left academia and set up ashram in Poona, India, in 1966.

Philosophy: Before you can reach the deeper stages of meditation, says Rajneesh, you have to break through your psychological blocks. For this reason, encounter groups, primal therapy and rolfing are all part of ashram life. Rajneesh’s unique contribution to meditation technique is “chaotic” meditation, which begins with ten minutes of rapid exhalations, followed by “catharsis” or freaking-out, followed by jumping up and down shouting the mantra Huuu! This unblocks the sexual energy in the lower cakras. Then there is a period of silent meditation and finally, dancing to sitar music.

Lifestyle: Rajneesh is more concerned with totality than with perfection. There is an understanding that as you progress, impure habits like smoking cigarettes and eating meat dissolve. Sex is viewed more as a plus than a minus. Disciples—called neo-sannyasans—wear orange clothing and malas (rosaries) with a photo of Rajneesh.

Drawbacks: Poona is a long way off, and you find that Rajneesh is so sensitive now that people who arrive to see him for personal interviews are checked at the door for offending odors. Even the scent of shampoo is considered too much.

Quote: “One should live spontaneously, naturally and not try to follow any right or any wrong.”

Access: Shree Rajneesh Ashram. 17 Koregaen Park, Poona 411 011 India. Also: Ananda, 29 East 28th Street, New York, N.Y. 10016.


Bio: Born London, 1916, son of Pir-O-Murshid Hazrat Khan, who founded the Sufi Order in the West, an adaptation of Sufi Islam as it is practiced in the Middle East. Named as father’s successor at the age of ten. Raised in England and France. Holds degree in psychology from Paris University, studied music at L’Ecole Normale de Musique de Paris and comparative religion at Oxford. Spiritual schooling in India and the Middle East with Sufi masters and other esoteric teachers.

Philosophy: “Any person who has a knowledge of life outside and within is a Sufi. Therefore, there has not been, in any period of the world’s history, a founder or an exponent of Sufism, but Sufism has been all along.” Sufism emphasizes the unity of the mystical core within all religions. Thus, in Khankas—Sufi ashrams—Buddhist meditation may be practiced on Monday, Hinduism on Tuesday, Zoroastrianism on Wednesday, Sufism Thursday, Islam Friday, Judaism Saturday and Christianity on Sunday. The most commonly recognized Sufi practice is dancing, including the fast whirling made famous by the dervish school. Other Sufi dances are circular and slow, stressing the opening-up of the heart.

Lifestyle: Sufis are traditionally “hidden.” There is a New Age Community, Abode of the Message, in New Lebanon, New York. They run a VW repair shop, bakery, school and Aquarian Systems Computer Designs.

Drawbacks: The dancing is great for opening heart centers, but it’s easy to get very dizzy. No dope allowed.

Quote: “If you do not see God in man, you will not see him anywhere.”

Access: Sufi Order Secretariat, P.O. Box 396, New Lebanon, N.Y. 12125.


Bio: Born Tibet, 1939. Recognized in infancy as a tulku, or reincarnation of the Eleventh Trungpa, one of a succession of enlightened Buddhist teachers. Trained in the Kargvu and Nyingma traditions of Tibetan Buddhism. Abbot of a large group of monasteries until the Red Chinese invasion’ of 1959, when he led a large group of followers by foot across the Himalayas into India, where he learned English. Attended Oxford, founded Samye-Ling Monastery in a remote part of Scotland and married an English girl. Some of his conservative students did not approve, and in 1970 he came to the states, where he found more fertile ground for his seemingly radical, unorthodox approach.

Philosophy: Buddhism begins not with the vision or promise of heaven, bliss or even enlightenment, but with the First Noble Truth, which is the truth of suffering. The root of suffering is impermanence, which leads to the Second Noble Truth, the truth of the origin of suffering. This is found through the practice of sitting meditation, which leads to the Third Noble Truth, the truth of the cessation of suffering. This leads to the Fourth Noble Truth, the truth that there is a path—a path based on facing the experience of your life, both positive and negative, directly. Buddhism also points to the transciency of all we think of as the self.

Lifestyle: Intensive practice is mixed in with a worldly lifestyle that might shock some more traditional meditators. Suits and ties are de rigueur for formal ceremonial occasions: Tibetan or Indian dress is discouraged. Trungpa’s major contribution to the American spiritual scene has been his introduction of the idea of “spiritual materialism,” in which the ego uses spirituality for its own gratification.

Drawbacks: Elusive, except when teaching at seminars and retreats. Sitting meditation is designed to bring you down, and not to get you high.

Quote: “Meditation is not a matter of trying to achieve ecstasy, spiritual bliss or tranquility, nor is it attempting to become a better person. It is simply the creation of a space in which we are able to expose and undo our neurotic games, our self-deceptions, our hidden fears and hopes.”

Access: Vajradhatu, 1345 Spruce Street, Boulder, Colorado 80302.


Bio: Born Jack Rosenberg, Pennsylvania, 1935. Left his wife to build an encyclopedia-sales empire in California where he suddenly “got it,” while sitting in his car—a natural setting for enlightenment in California. Through word of mouth and media coverage, est (Erhard Seminar Training) spread rapidly.

Philosophy: People are stuck in their conditioning like rats in a maze of their own making, for which they habitually blame everyone else. Once people “get” that, they can create their own experience and control their own lives.

Lifestyle: For people who make est their path there are ongoing workshops in relationships, communications, etc. You also volunteer to work in est offices, assist at events and start the process toward becoming a staff member or a trainer. This kind of work demands great efficiency and attention to detail, plus a casually expensive, razor-cut, sweater-and-slacks look. It’s OK to smoke or drink, though there’s usually not time for anything more than “getting the job done.”

Drawbacks: Training costs $300 for which the trainers insult you through a three-day spiritual blitzkrieg. Graduates of est can share a rather glazed good-German, just-following-orders air.

Quote: “You and I possess within ourselves, at every moment of our lives, under all circumstances, the power to transform the quality of our lives.”

Access: est, 765 California Street, San Francisco, California 94108.

Courtesy of High Times


Bio: Born India, 1914. Worked in agriculture, mechanics, electronics, cinematography and business. Met Guru Sri Swami Sivananda in the Himalayas and received the sannyasi (monk’s) vows in 1949. Came to New York in 1966 for a two-day visit and stayed for five months, founding the first of his Integral Yoga Institutes.

Philosophy: Integral Yoga’s goal “is a body of perfect health and strength, mind with all clarity and control, intellect as sharp as a razor, will of steel, heart full of mercy, a life dedicated to the common welfare and realization of the True Self.” The main emphasis is on hatha yoga asanas (postures), but the Integral Yoga path also goes on to include pranayama (breathing exercises), selfless action, chanting of holy names, mantra repetition, prayer, meditation, study and reflection.

Lifestyle: The hatha yoga classes are open to anyone for a modest fee, and they are one of the best bargains in the spiritual marketplace. Advanced students become disciples, taking sannyasi vows of celibacy, vegetarianism.

Drawbacks: Swamiji has met twice with the pope, opened the Woodstock Festival, and along with a Zen monk, a Catholic priest and a Jewish rabbi, heads the Center for Spiritual Studies. By including everyone and everything, he has developed a style so broad and inoffensive that nothing very meaningful gets said. Fine for hatha yoga, but his answers to more complicated problems can get a little platitudinous (an English word meaning dull).

Quote: “We teach undoism, not Hinduism.”

Access: Integral Yoga Institute, 227 West 13th Street, New York, N.Y. 10011, phone (212) 929-0585.


Bio: Born South India, 1908. At the age of 15 Muktananda met the renowned Guru Swami Nityananda. In 1961 Nityananda left his body and passed along the power of the Siddha lineage to Muktananda.

Philosophy: Muktananda transmits kundalini energy, which awakens a corresponding energy lying dormant in the disciple. Once kundalini is awakened, consciousness automatically expands. Some people experience visions, strong rushes of energy, spontaneous physical movements.

Lifestyle: The ashram Muktananda runs in India is strict and disciplined. Celibacy and purity are the norm for people who go all the way to become monks or nuns, although this step is not counted necessary. Men and women sit separately during chanting and meditation.

Drawbacks: Demands total surrender to the will. Forget it if you can’t surrender to the Guru Muktananda. If you like sex more than spiritual bliss, stay away.

Quote:Kundalini is the supreme energy, the supreme intoxicating drug.”

Access: Siddha Yoga Dham, 324 West 86th Street, New York, N.Y. 10024, phone (212) 873-8030.


Bio: Born Calcutta, 1896. Retired from married life at 54 to become a sannyasi. Charged by his master with the responsibility for bringing the Vedic teachings to the English-speaking world, Bhaktivedanta took a freighter to New York in 1965. Opened the first International Center for Krishna Consciousness in a Second Avenue storefront a year later, teaching the mantra Hare Krishna.

Philosophy: Hindu fundamentalism. There is a God, whose name this time around is Krishna, the eternal, all-knowing, omnipresent, all-powerful, all-attractive personality of Godhead. We are not our bodies, as we might think, but eternal pure souls, parts and parcels of Krishna. All actions should be performed for Krishna rather than for our own sense gratifications. Devotees chant “hare Krishna, hare Krishna, Krishna Krishna, hare hare, hare Rama, hare Rama. Rama Rama.”

Lifestyle: Devotees are encouraged to “extinguish” their senses—no sex unless for purposes of procreation, no meat, alcohol, cigarettes or drugs. Devotees wear orange robes, men shave their heads—except for a knot of hair—and generally follow the traditions of orthodox Hindu monks.

Drawbacks: Swallowing India whole often leads to a bad case of acne as well as spiritual indigestion. Members of the public generally consider Krishnites cross-cultural casualties who block traffic with their blissed-out incense-peddling on main streets of large cities.

Quote: “The name of Krishna is as powerful as Lord Krishna himself.”

Access: ISKON, 340 West 55th Street, New York, N.Y. 10019. (212) 765-8610.

High Times Magazine, October 1977

Read the full issue here.

The post From the Archives: The High Times Guide to Gurus (1977) appeared first on High Times.

Justin Kreutzmann on Music, Film, and a Lifestyle Inspired by The Grateful Dead

Halloween has recently passed and director Justin Kreutzmann has just trick-or-treated with his children. It’s the kind of father/kid bonding time that most children long for and enjoy. In the case of Kreutzmann, he’s simply passing along the gift of showing up as a father to his kids in the way his father provided fatherhood to him: By having fun.

When we connect by phone, the Long Strange Trip producer is ecstatic at the release of his latest film, Let There Be Drums!, which explores the history of drummers in famous bands and the drummers’ relationships with their children.

Over the course of our conversation, Kreutzmann dives into the origins of his filmmaking aspirations, the influence of the Grateful Dead lifestyle on pursuing his passions, the art of storytelling, and his firsthand look at the normalization of cannabis culture within the 70s Deadhead psychedelic movement.

High Times: Coming from such a prolific music family, how did filmmaking become your path?

Justin Kreutzmann: It became my path the minute I watched Apocalypse Now.

If you’ve seen the film, Mickey Hart tells the story of Francis Ford Coppola coming to Winterland and being blown away by the drum section. Coppola was in the middle of putting together Apocalypse Now and figuring out the score, and as anyone who has seen the film knows, it was a massive undertaking. So Coppola was really inspired by the drums and asked Mickey if he and dad [BIll Kreutzmann] could contribute to the percussion. Of course I was seven at the time and didn’t know any of this—I just knew we were going to Mickey Hart’s studio in Nevada and we were going to watch this movie.

We sit down and it’s the Grateful Dead and all of the Coppola people and they put on the six hour version of Apocalypse Now. Francis sits next to the TV and describes the entire movie in terms of rhythm and what percussion sounds the jungle was making at certain points and I just loved it. With the Grateful Dead being so free and easy, you could watch something like Apocalypse Now without parental supervision. It was an amazing experience and even though ninety-percent of it probably went over my head, I looked at Francis like, “I don’t know what he’s doing, but I want to do that. That looks like an amazing job.”

So dad bought me a Super 8 camera and literally one of the first things I shot were the Grateful Dead New Year’s Eve shows in 1977. That’s how I started because you shoot what’s around. You shoot family home movies. I wish I’d shot more, but I was a shy little kid running around with a camera and the Grateful Dead scene—I know this will be a shock to everybody—wasn’t really one where it was like, “Yeah, come backstage and shine a light on all the stuff we’re doing.” You had to be stealthy, pick your moments, and not get yelled at. From seven or eight years old, [filmmaking] is what I wanted to do and I never had a fallback option.

Being around the Grateful Dead, it was very much encouraged to follow what inspired you and to do a job you love because otherwise life would be too hard. Filmmaking for me checked all of those boxes.

Still from Let There Be Drums!

High Times: Having your father do what fueled him—how impactful was that on you in terms of staying the course and pursuing filmmaking?

Justin Kreutzmann: It was the most impactful thing ever. I saw what my dad did for work and [what he had to do] to play and make it great. I saw the effort he had to put in. I also saw the fun he got out of it and the rewards—certainly financially—but more the ten-thousand people dancing and cheering [for their music]. I also got to see his part in the band and understand the team effort.

I was in the studio when the band first started rehearsing “Terrapin Station.” For anybody who knows that song, there are a lot of parts, and so it was a long day sitting there watching the Grateful Dead figure it out. It was like Apocalypse Now—it was big, it was epic and I saw it getting more cohesive. The reward six months later was watching the band play these parts on stage and people freaking out. Being able to follow the whole process was really important.

With filmmaking, there’s the writing of it, the shooting of it, editing it, showing it to a theater—I equated it to doing what my dad did in the Grateful Dead and used the examples from him but just applied it to the film world. It’s all about the rhythm of the cuts. You can be deaf and watch a film and still love it because of the rhythm, the pace and the way the beats are landing.

A hard cut in a film is like the “one” beat. But also within that cut, there might be something that is landing on the “three.” You get into these rhythms that are not so pronounced but that can be very subtle and the audience can be moving along with it even if you’re not telegraphing your punches. We all know when you’re watching something and you turn the sound off and you’re just kind of bobbing your head because you can feel what it probably sounds like.

High Times: So whether it’s a film audience or a music audience, it’s more about connecting with them on an undercurrent that transcends sound.

Justin Kreutzmann: You’re telling a story. You never lose sight of the story you’re trying to tell but you’re telling that story visually, through sound, through music and the rhythm of the cuts. A lot of the really fun stuff is when somebody sees something in there that you didn’t even intend but they get something else out of it.

High Times: Along your career journey of understanding music and film, was there ever an experience or collection of moments that validated your initial impulse at pursuing your own filmmaking hero’s journey?

Justin Kreutzmann: There were two points. The first was in 1981 when we did a parody of the Rolling Stones tour produced by Bill Graham where all the guys in my sixth grade class dressed as The Rolling Stones under the premise that we were staying over at Bill Graham’s house. My teacher set up a screening for everybody in the grade—and while it was probably a terrible film—just watching it, having the kids cheer, and having that moment where your peer group recognized what you did creatively was so inspiring and gave you that first hit of validation.

The second one was realizing, “Hey, I might be able to feed my family,” and that filmmaking was something I could do as a career while not having to go through drastic measures to try and put food on the table. When you’re getting going, you hope it’s going to work, you have big dreams, but you have that fear of, “What if I’m no good at what I love to do?” I’m not sure how good I am, but at least I’m able to feed and clothe my children. My wife can take care of herself but we’re all getting by and we’re all having a very nice life.

Still from Let There Be Drums!

High Times: There’s something really beautiful about picking a path that speaks to you—like with the members of Grateful Dead—and leaning into it. When you do that, everything else sort of falls into place.

Justin Kreutzmann: One-hundred percent. You also have to realize, growing up in the particular music scene that I did—the Grateful Dead did it their own way. Those guys were the same way back at home as the way they hit the stage. While they would have loved hits, they didn’t go out of their way to get them. They played the music they wanted to play, they had a million-to-one shot, they got really lucky and they were talented enough to make a great career. But it could have gone the other way. This was not particularly commercial radio music, and just watching people do exactly what they wanted to do musically and believe in themselves—even if only ten other people got it—that was great. But ten-million people got it, so that was better.

Growing up, the Grateful Dead didn’t have that private plane, cover of People Magazine, big celebrity thing. They were successful in doing their own thing, but it wasn’t like they couldn’t go out to dinner to a restaurant—it didn’t really impact their personal life, and in that way you kind of had the best of both worlds.

You watch the Rolling Stones and you think there’s no way Mick Jagger could go down to a 7-11 and buy a Slurpee. Maybe he could, but the assumption is he wouldn’t be able to without getting recognized. I have a lot of friends with whom we always joke we’re in the “famous father club,” friends whose dads were in The Beatles or whose dad was Bob Dylan. If your dad is Bob Dylan, everybody knows your dad—which can be tough—but Jacob [Dylan] is literally one of the sweetest people you’ll ever meet in your life. Same with Sean Lennon and all those guys who would seem to have carte blanche and not be part of our world are actually really nice guys. It’s really fascinating because I always look at their dads and to me, The Beatles aren’t human, they’re this other thing that happened in the world—in a good way. The Grateful Dead were a few down-to-earth guys and The Beatles were on this mythical plane making this music that everybody loves.

High Times: In terms of your documentary Let There Be Drums!, what creatively inspired you to go on this journey and why this film?

Justin Kreutzmann: It’s something I’d been thinking about in the back of my mind for some time, something that I thought I could do well. Because of my dad, I had grown up around a lot of drummers, knew a lot of drummers’ stories, knew a lot of them personally—and originally, it was a lighthearted thing. Everybody’s got a drummer joke. Just ask [Jerry] Garcia, just ask Pete Townsend. Everybody’s got a really bad drummer joke that doesn’t end well for the drummers. So I thought we’d do this comedy of the sort of stereotypical hotel-smashing animal from the Muppets type stories. But the minute we started doing the interviews, it just went somewhere else. I blame Taylor Hawkins for this because he was the first guy to say, “Okay, I don’t know if this is for the documentary, but how stable was your home life growing up?” He started asking me questions and so instead of the interviewer/interviewee, we’re trading stories.

I’d have my list of twenty questions and the answers were all great, but the minute it went off and got more personal or into areas they don’t get asked a thousand times, it got more interesting. So when I got in the editing room, the film really told me what kind of film it wanted to be. There’s a lot of really interesting drum stuff in it, but there’s more interesting emotional and family stuff, and the connection just happens to be that it’s families of drummers.

Most everybody has a father, most everybody has a family, and most everybody can relate to issues and family stuff. I just sort of showed it in the context of being a kid of a drummer, like through Jason Bonham and Mandy Moon. I mean come on, if your dad is Keith Moon, I want to hear what that’s like. That’s really unique. Mandy’s not a drummer and she was the first interview we did for the film. I think her interview along with Taylor’s really set the tone. She wasn’t going to tell me about her dad’s technique or how he played shuffle. The stuff that really spoke to me emotionally is what ended up in the film and became the focus.

Still from Let There Be Drums!

High Times: And drumming just happened to be the way in, but really it’s a much deeper narrative that you’re telling.

Justin Kreutzmann: I’m glad it worked out that way because if the pitch had been, “Hey, we’re going to do a film about our famous drummer dads,” that blows. Because it just sort of happened organically, it ended up being much better. Seeing the different pairings of dads who are here, dads who are no longer here and all that kind of stuff—that was all in the mix. You couldn’t just put that next to a funny hotel smashing story. There’s more to it than that. And also, everybody was being so freaking real with me—there was no way I couldn’t be real when it was me and my dad. We were as real as everyone else was, and that’s what I really love and respect about all of the people in this film.

High Times: Were there any commonalities across all of the interviews that you picked up on?

Justin Kreutzmann: The connective tissue between a lot of the things—and Jason Bonham says it really well: “When your dad’s in the band, you’re like whatever. It’s not like you’re in The Beatles.” He has this great line where he goes to see his dad sellout a stadium in Florida and he asks, “Who’s on the bill? There’s no way Led Zeppelin could do this.” It’s love and respect but just a total kid thing of “this is just something that your dad does,” but your dad just happens to be in Led Zeppelin, but you’re still not impressed because you see him all the time. So that was a very common theme that came up.

High Times: What role did cannabis play for you growing up? Were there any commonalities there?

Justin Kreutzmann: Obviously growing up in the 70s in the Grateful Dead world, cannabis was plentiful, loved, and respected. It wasn’t like all drugs bad, no drugs good. Cannabis, LSD—they weren’t considered drugs. Heroin, crack—that was the bad shit. Even alcohol. But cannabis was just like cigarettes. It’s what everybody did, it was around, and we knew a lot of people who grew it.

I myself was never a weed guy. It was too strong, it made me too freaked out, and so I missed that train. But I’d have to guess I was around enough that I probably had a ten year contact high just from being near the Grateful Dead.

I remember the Grateful Dead were playing Stanford and it was the second set. I was sitting on a road case by Jerry’s area and he walks out with the rest of the band and he’s got his roach in his hand and he just hands it to me. It’s bright daylight at Stanford, everybody could see me holding his joint like he was Indiana Jones at the ark. Part of me really wanted to take a hit but then I looked around and realized ten-thousand people could see me, so I quickly handed it to somebody else.

I’m a sober guy, so I play it pretty clean, but I don’t have a chip on my shoulder. I do love the smell wafting over because it reminds me of home and I wish I was one of those guys [who was able to do it]. I did some videos with the band Slightly Stoopid and they just looked like they were having so much fun. The guys would talk about how they would get edibles for their dads, which I thought was so cool. It works for them and it’s creative and it’s fun, but I’m a father and a husband now and I don’t want to “poke the beast” as they say. Mad props for people who can just have a good time and get a little stoney.

Follow @justinkreutzmann and check out https://greenwichentertainment.com/film/let-there-be-drums/ for access to his latest film Let There Be Drums! available now

The post Justin Kreutzmann on Music, Film, and a Lifestyle Inspired by The Grateful Dead appeared first on High Times.

Canada’s Cannabis Credit Union

When you’ve got a cannabis credit union in your corner, nothing seems impossible. Despite Canadian cannabis legalization, banking for cannabis producers and operators is still a struggle. That’s where Community Savings Credit Union has stepped up. With seven branches in British Columbia, they’ve won two awards from the Canadian Marketing Association for cannabis advocacy. Specifically, they won awards for their “Roll with us” marketing campaign and “Does your bank deliver,” which compared choosing their services with choosing toppings for your […]

The post Canada’s Cannabis Credit Union appeared first on Cannabis | Weed | Marijuana | News.

Arte, Vandalismo y Acción Directa con Miss Eu G: DJ de El Doctor, MC y Gestora Cultural

Nota por Lola Sasturain publicada originalmente en El Planteo. Más artículos por El Planteo en High Times en Español.

Síguenos en Instagram (@El.Planteo) y Twitter (@ElPlanteo).

La persona que le pincha los beats y le hace los adlibs a El Doctor en vivo es mujer y se llama Miss Eu G. Ella es DJ de trap, rapera y productora y gestora cultural; y durante los primeros años también fue su manager, organizando fechas y giras alrededor del país.

“Soy una piba megacuriosa del tercer cordón del conurbano”, se define.

Dentro de la escena trap es un bicho raro: desde chica que se conoce todas las bailantas pero también iba a ver bandas de la escena alternativa. “No sé de dónde me bajó la data de que a mí me gustaba la música experimental, sónica y alternativa en ese momento, pero me la pasé arriba de los trenes recorriendo todo Buenos Aires yendo a ver bandas todos los fines de semana desde los 13 años”. Le gustaba mucho ir a ferias de fanzines, fiestas contraculturales y fechas under. Y es fan de la literatura y el cine.

Contenido relacionado: Reguetonera, Punk, Clubber y Fumona: Presentamos a Rosa Pistola, la DJ Más Picante de Mexico

Al Doctor lo conoció en una de estas vueltas. 7 años atrás, la DJ investigaba la escena de rap Argentina pero no la sastisfacía: había algo del rap cociencia que la terminaba aburriendo. Así fue como le llamó la atención El Doctor por sobre los demás MCs del momento, mucho más nasty, controversial y con un pie en el punk. 

“Rapeaba con su peinado tipo Misfits y yo dije este chico es un raro”, ríe. Le gustaron sus letras duras y explícitas. El trabajo juntos se fue dando naturalmente y se fueron consolidando como dúo. Al principio también era su manager. Sobre esto le interesa remarcar: “El tema de ser una manager mujer y trabajar en la noche con todo lo que eso conlleva. Hay gente pesada en todos lados y nosotros también lo somos. En esas relaciones de fuerza hay que ser muy pistera y saber manejarlo muy bien para sobrevivir. Definitivamente no es para cualquiera”.

Hoy delega gran parte de esas tareas para centrarse en su carrera artística, tanto junto a El Doctor como solista, y trabajan con un manager que los maneja a los dos. Y tienen, junto al resto del equipo, un sello que se llama Muerte a la Poli.

“Yo no creo que adherirse a la hegemonía o a la moda de la estética del momento sea el único camino aceptable como artistas. Todo lo que es genuino y real tiene su peso. Por eso podemos decir que llenamos un Groove en la presentación del disco solos, sin publicidad. Somos artistas independientes posta”, cuenta.

Y pueden estar felices que, a pura autenticidad y garra, llegaron lejos: sus próximos shows son el Primavera Sound -con El Doctor como único rapero masculino en el mismo día junto a Travis Scott, aclara- y el festival Nueva Generación en el Estadio Kempes de Córdoba. También acaban de confirmar su participación en la próxima edición de Cosquín Rock.

“No vale apropiarse del lenguaje y de experiencias que no condicen con tu clase social”

Junto al Doctor funcionan como banda. No solo es la DJ, sino que es una parte fundamental del proyecto tanto creativa como operativamente.

“Considero que hago unos adlibs diferentes”, cuenta Eu G, y explica que tiene que ver con sus influencias musicales que exceden al rap: punk, postpunk y hardcore. “Siento que soy una persona híbrida culturalmente hablando. El Doctor es un artista de trap y rap gangsta hardcore y también muy punk aunque suene todo muy aislado”.

Contenido relacionado: Dj Mami, Pionera de la Escena Urbana Argentina: Fiestas DIY, Amistades Enriquecedoras y Vibra Psiconauta

Recientemente subió un tema, “Nunca van a ser Trap”, con ClubHats. Lo hizo en Sponsor Dios, el estudio de Ysy A. “Todo el tiempo estoy recibiendo propuestas para trabajar con los que yo considero que son los mejores productores del trap argentino y eso me hace sentir muy bien, así que se viene mucho más”. En el futuro va a sacar un perreo junto al Doctor y a DJ Mami . “Todo para aportar a la fiesta que tanto nos gusta y tan bien nos hace”.

Le gusta componer utilizando la técnica del freestyle, y su inspiración es la realidad. Para ella eso es lo único que define verdaderamente al trap: “No vale apropiarse del lenguaje y de experiencias que no condicen con tu clase social. Eso me parece que es muy negativo para la construcción de un lenguaje que se basa en la representación de la realidad de las clases bajas”, analiza.

“Todo lo que es conceptual es mutable, sin embargo de lo único que estoy segura es que el trap debe ser una representación de la realidad de personas en los márgenes de esta sociedad”. Y agrega: “Y ante todo rapear bien”.

Como DJ no tiene muchas ataduras: pincha lo que le gusta. Música del caribe, rap y trap estadounidense, baile funk. Cuando toca en fiestas sus sets tienen un poco de todo eso siempre con un pie en el underground. También es una gran admiradora de la cultura clubber. “Salir a la noche a divertirse y escuchar lo que los DJs tienen para compartirnos. Es una manera de expresarse muy linda. Y me gustaría pedirle a la gente que no ande pidiendo temas, que lo que hace el DJ en su set también es una forma de comunicarse respetable. Hay que ir a disfrutar y a descubrir cosas que no conocemos”.

Y dispara: “Quiero invitar a todes a que tengamos una búsqueda sonora más amplia”.

“Es un cóctel hermoso fumarte un porrito y hacer freestyle”

Miss Eu G probó la marihuana de adolescente y desde ese entonces la acompaña. El porro tiene mucho que ver culturalmente con la música que ella hace y escucha y siente que son cosas que van de la mano. La ayuda mucho en sus procesos creativos, siempre con responsabilidad: “Es un cóctel hermoso fumarte un porrito y hacer freestyle, fluir en beats y demás. Es muy lindo así que suelo encarar por ahí”, dice.

El porro es lo que más circula en los camarines y los shows de la banda, cuenta. Es lo que fuma todo el equipo. Esto puede sorprender dado que El Doctor se hizo conocido con una canción llamada “Falopa y Pasta Base”.

Contenido relacionado: Todo sobre Tobi: Colaborar con Tiago, el Trap y el Futuro

“A pesar de que El Doctor habla de las adicciones en sus canciones me gustaría que la gente escuche bien las letras porque el nunca dice que está bueno lo que atraviesa a partir de todo eso”, cuenta la dj.

Jamás fomentan un ambiente de consumo de cosas más pesadas. “Todas las letras expresan el dolor que conlleva la adicción. Hacemos trap, que significa atrapado. Y nos pone muy tristes que mucha gente joven se arruine a través del consumo de ciertas cosas”, sigue.

En todos los ambientes se consume de todo. Yo me preocuparía mucho más por artistas que hablan de la paz y el amor cuando en su vida eso no es una realidad. Hablar de nuestras vidas de una forma real y hacernos cargo de eso es un primer paso hacia la transformación. No me parece que la única manera de poder hablar de sanación y progreso sea esa que nos muestran las redes sociales, tan clean y hegemónica”.

“Sororidad es entre mujer y mujer, no entre mujer y lora”

“Fui y soy una de las pocas mujeres que acompaña a un show de estás características en este país, no sé si la única debo decir “, afirma, y está en lo cierto. No es para nada común ver a una chica acompañando a un trapero hombre detrás de las bandejas, y mucho menos a uno que rapea sobre los temas que rapea El Doctor.

“Todos los géneros tienen una mirada bastante controversial con respecto a la mujer. Yo sé que éste contenido no es misógino porque eso habla del odio hacia la mujer y en este caso nadie odia a nadie. No le vemos la carga negativa a la palabra ‘puta’. Tengo muchas conocidas y amigas que se dedican al trabajo sexual y son abiertamente putas”, cuenta.

Sí le ha pasado que otras mujeres la confronten por esto mismo. Una vez, cuenta, un grupo de chicas muy rubias y muy blancas la encararon en Niceto acusándola de mala feminista por trabajar junto a El Doctor. “Recuerdo haberles dicho que si ellas por mes juntaban el dinero que yo necesitaba para vivir, yo con gusto dejaba la banda y comenzaba a vivir de los fondos que me daban. Obviamente no acusaron respuesta”, cuenta.

Se hace cargo del lugar que le toca y a la gilada ni cabida. “No me gusta andar dando muchas explicaciones. Si al final el lugar que tenemos las mujeres de barrio, con todo lo que eso conlleva, es tener que andar dando explicaciones no estoy muy de acuerdo con eso. Me resulta muy contraproducente pensar que las mujeres somos castas, puras y que acarreamos paz y amor todo el tiempo porque no es así”.

Y sentencia: “Una vez leí en Internet: sororidad es entre mujer y mujer, no entre mujer y lora. No pienso que cualquier persona que me venga a lorear esté realizando un acto muy transformador para las mujeres dentro de esta sociedad”.

“Soy una gestora de buenas noticias”

Además de todo lo que hace, Miss Eu G también es asistente de producción en Peek LATAM, primer y único canal digital de streams por Twitch del país. Ahí producen streams musicales junto al Doctor y MCs y beatmakers invitados. 

Lo que más le gusta es visibilizar el trabajo y la dedicación de lxs productorxs, en muchos casos invisibilizadxs. “Para mí es súper importante darles espacio e identidad a los productores que están detrás de cualquier pieza musical que escuchamos”, dice. Por ahí pasaron Kaleb Di Masi, Perro Primo, DT Bilardo, Gabino Silva, Chulimane junto a su productor Ramiro y Dellaloula (productor y DJ de Barderos Crew).

Contenido relacionado: Omar Varela, el Beatmaker de Oro del Trap Argentino: “El Dubstep Va a Volver y Espero Estar yo Ahí a la Cabeza”

“Le meto a la gestión hace años, soy una hacedora, gestora de buenas noticias diría. Todo lo que se me cruza lo quiero transformar en una experiencia dentro del arte y la cultura”, se describe.

“Siempre me gustó mucho el arte”, dice, y se ríe: “Bah, más que el arte… el vandalismo y la acción directa”.

The post Arte, Vandalismo y Acción Directa con Miss Eu G: DJ de El Doctor, MC y Gestora Cultural appeared first on High Times.

Video: el Mudial de Fútbol, las Drogas, Willie Johnston, Escocia y la Selección de los Excesos

En 1978, Argentina se preparaba para recibir la undécima edición del mundial de fútbol, en pleno contexto de dictadura militar.

Entre los planteles que fueron en búsqueda de gloria, se encontraba Escocia, que vivía su quinta experiencia mundialista. En su debut, los europeos sucumbieron ante la supremacía de Perú cayendo con un contundente 3 a 1.

Contenido relacionado: Video: el Mudial de Fútbol y las Drogas, la Historia de Diego Maradona

Una de las máximas figuras escocesas era William Johnston, volante ofensivo que formó parte de la nómina de control antidopaje en reemplazo de su compañero Archie Gemmill, quien no pudo dar la prueba por deshidratación.

Para tristeza del conjunto que comprendía el grupo 4 junto a Irán, Países Bajos y el propio Perú, “Willie”, dio positivo por haber consumido fencanfamina, psicofármaco también reconocido por la marca comercial Reactivan.

Así las cosas, la federación de su país decidió expulsar al futbolista y de esta manera nunca más volvió a vestir la camiseta de su selección.

Contenido relacionado: Entrevista con Juan Palomino: ‘Después de Interpretar a Maradona Ya Nada Volverá a Ser lo Mismo’

Pero Johnston continuó haciendo de las suyas en el verde césped. Su recordado paso por el fútbol de los Estados Unidos incluyó beber una cerveza antes de patear un tiro de esquina con la camiseta de Vancouver Whitecaps acción que terminó en gol y victoria para el conjunto canadiense.

De todos modos, el revoltoso paso de los escoceses, con Willie como emblema de su selección, dejó más historias fuera que dentro del campo de juego por su paso mundialista.

Positivo/Negativo: Willie Johnston

Mirá también el episodio 1 con Diego Maradona.

Foto por Jack de Nijs for Anefo, CC0, via Wikimedia Commons // Editada en Canva por El Planteo

The post Video: el Mudial de Fútbol, las Drogas, Willie Johnston, Escocia y la Selección de los Excesos appeared first on High Times.