Thursday, July 14, 2016

The Idler, Thursday, July 7, 2016

Amazing healing plant

YESTERDAY we had a picture of marijuana plants at an

exhibition in Oakland, California. Hardly had the paper hit the

streets when an e-mail arrived from a fellow called Anon.

"The caption under this morning's photo of marijuana plants

describes it as a 'drug'. In fact it's a substance, as it is a natural

plant. Drugs are chemically manufactured. Marijuana is not

addictive - but it's dependent - there are no withdrawal

symptoms.

"The public are ignorant about this amazing healing plant and

need educating."

Well, I'm no expert. My only experience of this amazing healing

plant was when, a few years ago, a gang of fellows were

working on my roof. At tea breaks they would sit in the shade

smoking.

Weeks later, long after the work was completed, and after

some rains followed by hot weather, plants exactly like those

shown in yesterday's picture had sprung up where they used to

sit smoking.

Next thing I saw my Irish terrier eating the leaves of these

plants. Now this was a dog of high spirits. He was already

banned from three bars for misbehaviour.

Next thing he was running about the yard screaming with

delight and doing cartwheels and handsprings.

The stuff works. I emphasise that I base this solely on

observation of my Irish terrier.

Half-full

OVERHEARD in the Street Shelter for the Over-Forties: "If

your cup is only half-full, you probably need a different

bra."

Deciphering it

JEREMY Hunt, Secretary for Health in the UK, says he is

dismayed and confused by the rejection by junior doctors

of the National Health Service of a new contract deal

negotiated with their union.

The medics are already out protesting with banners.

Hunt's confusion needs to be resolved. No doubt they will

get hold of a pharmacist right away to decipher what it is

the junior doctors are saying with their banners.

Hiss-tory

CATS up trees, hamsters under the floorboards … it's all in a

day's work for firemen.

But when firemen were called out on a "small animal rescue" in

Gainsborough, Lincolnshire, England, the small animal turned

out to be a huge 2m boa constrictor that had slithered into a gas

heater and refused to come out, according to Sky News.

They're humane people the Brits. They didn't just fire up the

heater to persuade the boa constrictor to leave, they

disconnected the gas then dismantled the heater to get at him

"This goes down in hiss-tory," said fire crew chief Dave Brierly.

What are boa constrictors doing in England? It's probably got

something to do with the wave of immigration from the EU that

the Brits voted against recently.

Boss cat

NOLA Mitchell, a lady of my acquaintance, is to be found

rowing on Durban harbour in the predawn; ringing the bells in

St Paul's and St Mary's Churches; and whooping it up at St

Clement's, the arts soiree. She also owns a cat.

He's no ordinary cat. Very handsome, he's not one of these

purry, cuddly cats. He bites when you try to stroke him. He bites

passing ankles. He knows who's boss. Himself. He's a

character.

Nelson – that's the cat's name – does not have the CV of your

ordinary moggy. He was born in Brazil and rescued by a South

African yachtsman from dogs that were killing his mother and

the rest of the litter.

He grew up at sea. He almost died there too, except he and the

yachtsman were rescued in a storm by a passing Japanese car

carrier which brought him to Durban and further adventures.

He's now with Nola and her husband, but not before reuniting

her with an old friend with whom she had lost contact.

Now Nola has told the story in a charming little book titled Just

Call Me Nelson (Avnola Publications). Between the rowing, the

bell-ringing and St Clement's, where did she find the time?

Tailpiece

A MIND reader gives a demonstration of her powers at a

nightclub.

She reads the mind of the lead guitarist: "Wow, look at all the

cute chicks!"

The drummer: "Good crowd. We're gonna make bucks tonight!"

The keyboard player: "All three of these guys have no

appreciation of my talent. What a bunch of losers."

The bass player: "C … G … C … G "

Last word

History is the version of past events that people have

decided to agree upon.

Napoleon Bonaparte

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