DESPERATE BEEF PRODUCERS LOOK TO DRUGS FOR RELIEF

"Just read a news article regarding your offer of help for those down on
our luck with the mad cow crisis happening recently.

You know, you are the only person actually offering to DO SOMETHING to
help. I would like to thank you on behalf of the industry for the offer."

So begins an e-mail from "R.W." to Marc Emery, marijuana activist,
publisher of Cannabis Culture magazine, and widely known as the "Prince of
Pot." R.W. is a farmer somewhere in Saskatchewan, one of the many
devastated by the crisis brought on by the worldwide embargo on Canadian
beef, after an Alberta cow was diagnosed with BSE last May. The two may
share a love for, well, agriculture, but it took the catastrophic
consequences of BSE to bring the pair, from very different walks of life,
together.

Despite the farmer's gratitude, he doesn't want to publicly thank Emery for
his aid package.

In fact, he's requested anonymity.

That's because Emery's offering to send beef producers something that's
even more verboten than Canadian beef: a marijuana growing kit, complete
with a lamp, nutrients, seeds and everything else they'll need to grow one
pound of pot every two months. Emery's suggesting that farmers diversify
into the narcotics business to supplement their income while they wait for
beef prices to recover. The seeds, which yield high-potency marijuana
strains, such as Afghanis and Northern Lights, as well as hash plants, take
about 45 days to mature, and, unlike our homegrown beef right now, are
highly marketable commodities, according to Emery. "They don't have a lot
of experience in the business, so they have to have good stuff to at least
make the sale," says Emery. If they do it right, Emery predicts the
ranchers can take in an extra $2,000 every couple of months.

Since Emery started the program in February, the response has been modest.
So far, one farmer each in Alberta, Manitoba and Saskatchewan has taken
Emery up on the offer.

But, says the pot activist, there have been plenty more just writing to
thank him for his efforts to at least try to help, even if they don't plan
on getting into the trafficking business.

Not surprisingly, Emery is a small-government kind of guy (he's been
fighting Canada's pot laws for years) and says his efforts to help out are
driven by his belief that the community should be the one coming to the aid
of stricken beef producers, not government. "I guess I'm opposed to all
business bailouts, including for farmers," he says. "I guess that's what
brought this on--I don't believe in government action in the economy, but I
believe that people have to take the initiative to help others.

So I'm kind of like an old-world conservative: I believe in private
contributions to help people out of a mess."

Predictably, there are few willing to endorse Emery's initiative, even
though they admire his charitable spirit.

When contacted for comment, a spokesperson from the Canadian Cattlemen's
Association laughed at the scheme. Ron Glaser, spokesman for the Alberta
Beef Producers, chuckled a bit, too, and says farm diversification is a
good policy, but not when it involves crops like this. "We certainly
appreciate all of the support we receive from Canadians of all walks of
life, but recommending that producers who are struggling move into illegal
activities--that's just foolish," he says. Federal Minister of Agriculture
Bob Speller declined comment, but a spokeswoman said the idea is "not
something he would chuckle about."

Emery isn't discouraged and says his offer is still open to farmers who can
prove they are the genuine article (he insists on seeing cattle sale
receipts as proof that they are "real farmers dealing in cattle"). He says
he knows he's doing the right thing when he hears from farmers like R.W.,
who recently wrote to Emery to share the enthusiasm he and his wife have
about the new venture. "We are excited, and a little nervous about our new
proposition," he writes.

But, concludes R.W., "I'm happy I decided to e-mail you. Thank-you so much.
It's been pretty depressing out here the last couple years.

You've got two older folks acting like kids, which we haven't done in a
long time."