My pot movie
- Thread starter browndirtwarrior
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Slickness420
Well-Known Member
Speaking of music, where can i download that song? It's very catchy.
browndirtwarrior
New Member
....But I'm NOTHIN' without you guys behind me. Please tell all your pot friends to watch. Another episode goes up this week to total 200k worth the triple A. Watch me fight tooth and nail to keep it from the powers that be in the de facto realm of the grower.
browndirtwarrior
New Member
Get the word out. This is gonna get good.Brown dirt, i have the utmost respect for you, plain and simple as that, i respect you more then a lot people, GOOD WORK! i too am from b.c. and am just starting out as a grower, but i have good connections of people growing, i hope to start doing what you doing as soon as i can, i think its the biggest bullshit in the world for a guy to take your crop, i guess there really is no honour among thieves... sad... but anyways great vid, ill add you in youtube if i can, my account name is weird because my old one got deleted, but twenty years of experience, probably most experienced person on this site and let me be the first to say "i give you props for this"
browndirtwarrior
New Member
An mp3 to anyone who gets 10 guys to watch the video. And I know....it's easy to fudge someting like that by making up accounts. But you're my peeps and I just gotta trust y'all.
browndirtwarrior
New Member
For those of you who enjoy reading, I've done a series of short stories about my adventures in the growing trade that span over a quarter century. I'm posting one on myspace every time I post a video, but you guys have been so kind and supportive that I feel compelled to give you an exclusive in here...
At an age when time was on our side, innocence was still intact, and we were sucking the marrow out of life voraciously, we hit the Sea To Sky Highway. The year was 1990, and I had become sickened by conformity, the legal system, and the status quo. So I was becoming an outdoor pot farmer.
Heading north, the snow-crested glaciers of the Tantalus Range regally scraped the heavens as the broken islands of Howe Sound inlet unabashedly gave way to glistening emerald waters against a backdrop of the bluest sky. It seemed as though even the most hardened of souls gazing upon this arresting beauty would have to ponder what nature had bestowed upon on the South Coast of British Columbia, Canada. That this was the setting of our illegal enterprise seemed antithetical and absurd; living in one of the freest, most beautiful places in the world, we were trying to make it even freer through in-your-face boldness and audacity -- because we believed it was our rightto grow our herb.
And how could I have known at the end of that first day, that I would feel more free and alive doing this than I had ever felt before? I fell to my knees at the foot of a cascading waterfall, as if paying homage to a newfound god, dunking my sweaty head into the icy glacial runoff to sooth the exhaustion I felt after planting marijuana in the sweltering heat all day. This act of defiance would be my calling - the beginning of an odyssey that would carry me through a major chapter of my life and a rendezvous with legal history.
I had no way of anticipating in those early days that I was at the headwaters of a great marijuana legalization movement. For perhaps the most profound and curious aspect of the marijuana plant is not the controversy over its psychoactive properties and purported social ills, but the way it has become so symbolic and emblematic of our civil liberties and individual rights and freedoms.
Adventures In The Growing Trade arose from a will to politicize the plight of the pot grower and to incite dialogue and debate over whether or not it should be deemed illegal to grow, smoke, or sell marijuana. Indeed, the central core of this collection of short stories, the source of all the drama and conflict, resides in one fundamental truth: none of these stories would have materialized had I simply been able to step into my back yard and plant my seeds legally.
If you believe the statistics, the majority of citizens of the free world want marijuana decriminalized at the very least; and approaching 50% (at least in this country) want it totally legalized and regulated. I am with that 50%. Marijuana legalization has always been a hot-button issue, with the so-called "war" on marijuana raging in the United States and, to a lesser degree, in Canada, the UK and various other countries. But the greatest casualties of this phony war -- the frontline soldiers -- are vilified for growing marijuana, some convicted as criminals and sentenced to jail time, their records scarred forever. This must stop!
These stories are spun from the silk of my days in the bush, as I dreamt of a time when I could, indeed, just grow my weed in the safety of my backyard and plant legally - no longer vilified, no longer forced to suffer the indignities bestowed upon my kind, freed from the strictures of antiquated, draconian precepts.
I wont go into a long dissertation on the virtues of legalizing marijuana. Ill simply tell my stories and let you draw your own conclusions.
In certain circles, I am known as the Brown Dirt Warrior. Aptly named? You be the judge.
Enjoy!
Forward
Heading north, the snow-crested glaciers of the Tantalus Range regally scraped the heavens as the broken islands of Howe Sound inlet unabashedly gave way to glistening emerald waters against a backdrop of the bluest sky. It seemed as though even the most hardened of souls gazing upon this arresting beauty would have to ponder what nature had bestowed upon on the South Coast of British Columbia, Canada. That this was the setting of our illegal enterprise seemed antithetical and absurd; living in one of the freest, most beautiful places in the world, we were trying to make it even freer through in-your-face boldness and audacity -- because we believed it was our rightto grow our herb.
And how could I have known at the end of that first day, that I would feel more free and alive doing this than I had ever felt before? I fell to my knees at the foot of a cascading waterfall, as if paying homage to a newfound god, dunking my sweaty head into the icy glacial runoff to sooth the exhaustion I felt after planting marijuana in the sweltering heat all day. This act of defiance would be my calling - the beginning of an odyssey that would carry me through a major chapter of my life and a rendezvous with legal history.
I had no way of anticipating in those early days that I was at the headwaters of a great marijuana legalization movement. For perhaps the most profound and curious aspect of the marijuana plant is not the controversy over its psychoactive properties and purported social ills, but the way it has become so symbolic and emblematic of our civil liberties and individual rights and freedoms.
Adventures In The Growing Trade arose from a will to politicize the plight of the pot grower and to incite dialogue and debate over whether or not it should be deemed illegal to grow, smoke, or sell marijuana. Indeed, the central core of this collection of short stories, the source of all the drama and conflict, resides in one fundamental truth: none of these stories would have materialized had I simply been able to step into my back yard and plant my seeds legally.
If you believe the statistics, the majority of citizens of the free world want marijuana decriminalized at the very least; and approaching 50% (at least in this country) want it totally legalized and regulated. I am with that 50%. Marijuana legalization has always been a hot-button issue, with the so-called "war" on marijuana raging in the United States and, to a lesser degree, in Canada, the UK and various other countries. But the greatest casualties of this phony war -- the frontline soldiers -- are vilified for growing marijuana, some convicted as criminals and sentenced to jail time, their records scarred forever. This must stop!
These stories are spun from the silk of my days in the bush, as I dreamt of a time when I could, indeed, just grow my weed in the safety of my backyard and plant legally - no longer vilified, no longer forced to suffer the indignities bestowed upon my kind, freed from the strictures of antiquated, draconian precepts.
I wont go into a long dissertation on the virtues of legalizing marijuana. Ill simply tell my stories and let you draw your own conclusions.
In certain circles, I am known as the Brown Dirt Warrior. Aptly named? You be the judge.
Enjoy!
Dedication
to all who have been persecuted or prosecuted for growing marijuana
purplehaze10
Active Member
lol holy shit efff going to the gym, workout and growpot?!?! fuck yeah!!
GoodFriend
Lumberjack
browndirtwarrior
New Member
Sitting on the bank of the swamp on a soft clump of pine needles, I gazed transfixed at the miracle unfolding in front of me. The soft rays of early October sunlight enveloped the mosquitoes in an ethereal glow as they danced an aerial ballet. The wetland sky seemed like a living chandelier dripping with diamonds, as these insects swung in random crescendos, millions of them, making contact, free-falling, then climbing with a swoop to do it again in their mating dance. A week or two earlier, I mused, these insects relatives likely gorged on my blood as I worked the patch. Now they were providing me with the most exquisite performance, courtesy of Mother Nature. The profundity of the interconnectedness of all living things washed over me and I felt a strong sense of the sacred. My apprenticeship, that thirty-two day stint in the woods, was full of moments like those, as I tended the crop in the mornings with the Z-Man, then went off to commune with nature.
The Z-man was our enforcer on the crop. With a stolen black colt .45 which he kept under a log, he was a 5'6, 265-lb. black man with a shaved head, earring, tattoos, a degree in philosophy, and a penchant for old Tom Jones records. We were the two new guys, elected to guard the crop and see it to the finish.
With nothing else to do after the day's round of checking on and maintaining 600,000 dollars worth of pot, I nestled into the routine of taking the Z-Man trout fishing. To this day, that indelible impression remains etched in my mind. That big black man, looking like a biker bar bouncer, holding a delicate little trout rod, intently practicing the intricate art of brook trout fishing. With a dancing rod tip and taut line, his reel whizzing, hed glance at me for approval with a yelp of exhilaration. His child-like glee at being rewarded for his patience made me wonder if hed have the persona he had if hed experienced this rite of passage as a boy.
On cool October nights, in the glow of lamplight, the Z-Man and I drank tea and hot chocolate, talked philosophy and listened uneasily as, occasionally, a huge, ancient tree cracked in the distance and fell with a thunderous boom that echoed through the wilderness in the blackness of the night.
What a joy it was, watching this man of such stark contrasts discover simple pleasures long lost to him in the concrete jungle. That stay in the bush taught me a lot about human potential and the complexity of self, how we often tend to preconceive and label people based on appearance.
Those thirty-two days in the woods changed me. And I know they changed the Z- Man. It forced us to look inward and reflect, to look at each other simply as fellow men, to do what we do far too little of in the hustle and bustle of our lives - get to know the real person behind the protective veneer. The natural world does that; it forces you to focus inward on the real and essential.
I would need that grounding. I was about to leave the woods after a month without so much as a hot shower, carrying a suitcase filled with enough money to afford me any creature comfort.
MRbudsmoker
Well-Known Member
im with ya on that one arrid
madcow
Well-Known Member
brother you'll have a best selling novel some day,you probably already have one with your collection of short stories.I know I'd buy it.keep it up man, I love the way you write.You have a unique style and that sets you apart from rest of the so called norm....once again wow!!
browndirtwarrior
New Member
...and 200k is in!
madcow
Well-Known Member
very nice keep it up.keep the vids & short stories coming.we can all learn from you just watching your vids is educational and inspirational I love your work.I plan on moving to B.C. one day or southern Alberta to do what you do.I hope to one day meet you and shake your hand & puff back a big one.keep it up and I wish you all the luck in the world!!!
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