The Fanaticus Chronicles
Posted 25 March 2004 - 07:30 PM
THE DAILY WORLD (Aberdeen Washington Newspaper) - Wednesday, February 19,
2003 ... (cut to last few paragraphs - a witness describes events) ... "It
all started (Monday) night," a Lake Quinault-area business owner said this
morning. "I seen helicopters, all of these Federal vehicles." "Then they
all met up here at the Forest Service (Tuesday) morning at 6." McPherson
was a regular at the business owner's shop, the man said. "I knew him for
three of four years, and knew he was in the internet business - but not the
mushroom thing." (end of article)
Time and place - 7:30 a.m. Tuesday February 18 2003 - 630 North Shore Road -
Lake Quinault Rain Forest.
BANG BANG - I awoke from sleep and jumped up off the couch I was reclining
on. I was fully dressed in my usual garb, sweat pants, comfy flannel shirt
and socks. Then another BANG BANG. I looked over at the front door of the
living room about 12 feet away and it was shaking violently. As I came to
consciousness I had several thoughts race through my mind faster than the
speed of light, as if I had several consecutive thoughts occur at once. The
first thought was that I was dreaming, but that faded fast. Then I thought
there was a madman banging at my front door trying to get in, and I
immediately thought to grab my tonfa (martial arts weapon) that I kept near
me were I would crash, but then I saw black helmets through the small window
view at the top of the door and as I glanced out one of the windows in the
front, I saw a couple of official looking guys with their arms folded across
their chests standing on the road watching. Again - BANG BANG, the door
shuddered and as I ran over to the door to open it, I thought to myself,
"isn't this rather extreme, I mean, for it all to end this way, this
violence is a bit un-called for, don't you think (I thought to myself)."
Right before the next BANG, I opened the door just in time to keep it from
crashing open with the lock mechanism ripping out of the door frame. What
concerns me, was that I never locked the front door. I am sure it was
unlocked. They could have just come right on in. I now try to remember to
alwasy lock it at night, but I still sometimes forget. My house is four
miles up North Shore road, in the Olympic National Park, Lake Quinault Rain
forest and prowlers and thieves are rare. And if there are any, it is
usually an inside job from dumb fuck local kids.
So I open the door and there they were, several dudes dressed in black, with
helmets, shields, automatic machine guns, the guy in front dropping the
battering ram to the ground, and in big yellow letters on their uniforms -
D.E.A. The next thing I heard was, "get on the floor, NOW!" As I complied,
the voice screamed at me again, "get DOWN, put your hands behind your back!"
I got down as fast as I could in the narrow space between me, the door, and
the forward thrusting black uniforms, shields, and big fucking guns. As the
well shined black boots and neat uniforms streamed by, someone handcuffed
me. I felt his knee on my back, but he put no pressure. Again someone
yelled, "police, search warrant, police!" Through the house they went,
yelling with crashing sounds and more banging and kicking open frail little
bedroom doors punctuated with a loud voice, "clear." I thanked whatever god
might exist, because my wife was not upstairs in her bedroom, she was in the
Bahamas on a vacation junket with her daughter (an ex employee of PF, who
wisely quit a few years earlier). But her daughter just had been here at
the house, and a couple of days earlier she and her mom had left for Seatac
Airport for a couple of weeks of fun, sun, sand and surf (which ended
abruptly when they got the bad news). My step daughter would have been in
the second upstairs bedroom, naked (I think she sleeps that way, but I am
not sure). I am sure those DEA dudes would have dragged them both out of
bed if they hadn't of got up because of the chaos and noise that engulfed
the house. But, no such thing happened. Me and the cats were the only
people in the house, and to me, it is one of the great "miracles" of my
life. I can't be more serious about it. The raid was a real bitch. It was
like the end of the world happened.
As I lay there on the floor, the realization swept in, and I knew my life
had just changed. But I couldn't believe it would be in such a violent way.
I expected to eventually get into trouble selling Magic Shroom spores. I
was getting really famous and selling almost three thousand syringes per
month with all of the usual idiotic nonsense from the usual percentage of
morons who order (boxes coming back - undeliverable). But I had no idea it
would be a full blown DEA raid with AK 47's et all. I thought I would just
be visited by a couple of cop cars and agents with a search warrant and I
would make an end. But not this way, it was as if I was an armed terrorist,
or I was a wanted rapist murderer, or that I was a suspect in some kind of
cop killing or armed bank robbery.
So I just remained calm and laid there on the floor, what could I do? After
a couple of minutes of mayhem, the house was pronounced "clear" and the DEA
swat team all came back down the stairs and proceeded to go down to the
garage (daylight basement and outside). After about 10 minutes, a couple of
plain clothes detectives, checked out the fat living room armchair (looked
behind the cushions to check for weapons) that was near the front door,
lifted me up off the floor, and placed me in the chair.
Then the main dude came in - the leader of the DEA team. They led me over
to the dining room table and seated me down. The special agent DEA dude
then sat down across from me, placed a tape recorder on the table, and then
read me my rights - you know how it goes - "you have the right to remain
silent, you have the right to an attorney, anything you say can be used
against you in a court of law --- etc." Then the agent looks at me and
says, Robert, this is serious, you are in big time trouble. Yeah, no shit
(I thought). Then he surprises me by telling me that if I give them
information that they can use, it can be a lot better for me. I suppose
they were asking me if I knew of any weed gro-ops, meth labs or stuff going
on in the area. The DEA dudes were congregating around the living room
looking at me, and I said, "I don't know nothin' about what's going on
around here, I hardly know anyone, and if I did, I wouldn't tell you shit,
because I'm not a rat (all true statements)." And then I turned and glared
at the cops standing around. They blinked.
Then the agent in charge, began his probes. He said they were at that
moment raiding Judy's house (my sister in law) as well as her childhood
family brother¹s house (Steve). That scared me. Judy is almost an invalid
and suffers from severe asthma and osteoporosis. She is very weak and frail
and I kind of freaked out. Then I told the agent that I know the score on
these drug raids, and the advice that lawyers and various publications say
about what to do in the event of a raid is to - "SHUT THE FUCK UP AND DON'T
SAY SHIT UNTIL YOU SEE A LAWYER." Well, I figured that they know a lot
already, and if I just tell them what they already know and are ready to
prove in court, maybe they won't arrest Judy. So I told the agent I was
going to talk in order that they don't have to arrest Judy (hopefully). He
didn't give me any confirmation that he would not arrest her.
So then I talked and told them that I was the MAN that they want, the
leader, the PF business owner and that the few shrooms that they found
upstairs were the source of my spores and that they were magic mushrooms
etc. etc. I was out in the open anyway, with income taxes paid every year,
the web site, the whole deal. What was I hiding? Nothing.
Then in comes a chick cop and her drug dog. I just told the chick cop that
my weed was under the coffee table and her dog was jumping around it anyway.
So she pulled out my jars of weed and in one jar was that special once every
6 months weed - you know - primo shit. She obviously knew what she was
doing because as she took the jar out of the coffee table shelf, she looked
at it, looked at the agent in charge sitting at the dining room table with
me, pointed at the jar, nodded her head and rolled her eyes as if to say,
"This is the good stuff." And then I complained, "that's my medical weed."
And then one of the cops asked, "Do you have a prescription?" I answered,
"If I did, you wouldn't give a shit anyway." He smiled knowing that I spoke
Meanwhile, my older cat (Piss Head) escaped out of the house through one of
the open doors, but my younger cat (Cheat) appeared, and the drug dog barked
at him. The Chick cop controlled her dog and then Cheat ran like mad
through the DEA guys (who jumped) and out the back opened door. I yelled to
them to let him go. I felt really bad because of the ordeal that my two
cats were going to go through. But one of the detectives went next door
with a house key and gave it to my neighbor (a really hip school teacher
chick) and he said that she said she would look out for them, (and she did -
even though Cheat disappeared for several days).
The special agent in charge asks me another question, "where's the liqueur?"
Damn, he knows about that! So I told him - "in the freezer, behind the
turkey." He got it out and put it on the counter. (What was amazing, was
that when me and my wife finally got home about 10 days later, there the
liqueur was, still on the counter - they didn't bother to take it - as if to
leave me a gift)! I guess they had everything they could want (photos of my
little grow op - and several grams of dried shrooms that they found in a
waste basket, and scads of evidence of my operation) so the psilly liqueur
wouldn't have made any difference in the case. Plus, the containers weren't
tight enough to keep them sealed and the liqueur would have leaked all over.
And also, I told the agent I really don't have a clue exactly how good it is
or what is actually in it. I was planning to test it on myself, but those
plans came to an abrupt end, because when my wife and I got home, I was so
bummed out that I was in no mood to try it and go on a trip. And plus, I
have no idea if psilly can be detected in a drug test (probably not, but I
was tested constantly for drugs and booze). So because of those two
reasons, I emptied the liqueur out on the lawn. But the consistency of the
whitish crystals in the ethanol was interesting - hard and not sticky,
separable and loose with a surprising weight to it. I suppose the agent was
pleased that I just fessed it up so that he just left it there. How
bizarre! Those guys knew everything, even about the psilly liqueur that I
consider to be one of the really great drug discoveries of all time.
To digress, the really great thing about the PF TEK, is that it actually
makes the acquisition of magic shrooms safer. With the PF TEK, there is no
danger of getting poisoned by a dangerous toxic mushroom that can be
encountered and misidentified in a wild collection of shrooms. The infamous
deadly killer look alike shroom - Galerina Autumnalis has been seen,
photographed and documented growing right next to the glorious little
Pacific Northwest mulch and lawn shroom - Psilocybe Stunzii. With the PF
TEK, that danger is eliminated. There are reports of youngsters and even
experienced shroom hunters getting killed by these extremely dangerous
organisms. I think it is one of the most amazing mysteries of nature that
fungi can be a delectable edible food, a medicine, an obnoxious worthless
sickening thing one might try and eat, a destroyer of trees (parasitic
fungi), a poison of unparalleled lethality, and an organism that causes the
human mind to experience the source of religions. So as far as I am
concerned, I did a great deed in eliminating that fearful danger of mushroom
poisoning that shroomers hunting for the magic realm of the shrooms can
accidentally get. Plus, when the Crystal liqueur (tested, tried and then
applauded on the net by adventurous doers of my TEKS) is added to the PF
TEK, that is the greatest psychedelic discovery in history - total quality -
fit for the gods - number one. Timothy Leary and all the rest of those
squeekers need to stand humble before the mighty crystals. But I digress.
So then the special agent says that they are going to take me to jail up to
Seattle. That made me a bit nauseous. I then saw some big trucks with
trailers pull up to the house and they begin to load my pickup truck and my
wife's Honda recreational vehicle. I couldn't believe it, what a pain in
the ass, they were taking our cars! It wasn't that they were Mercedes, or
Jaguars, or Rolls Royce's. They were just low eschalon everyday cars with
no big value, but just the same, those ass holes were taking them which
means that if I was to get out of jail, we would really be stuck because I
and my wife live way out here in the boonies. At least the agent in charge
said they were leaving Judy's car.
Meanwhile, over at Steve's house, he wasn't there. Steve was on his way to
a vacation in San Francisco. The cops checked out his computer and
discovered his itinerary and went to the motel were he was staying and
arrested him there and got his truck. Those cops are really efficient.
When they act, there is nothing they don't know, it's fucking amazing!
BRIGHT MOMENT NUMBER ONE
Amidst all of the hubbub, as I was sitting there at the dining room table,
there were two DEA guys standing in the middle of the living room watching
me. DEA dude number one was a little shorter than DEA dude number two. DEA
dude number two was sort of glaring at me and he looked like he had been in
a fight, because his lip had a scab on it. On the wall, there were photos
of my Stonehenge stuff, and DEA dude number one asked me, "what's that all
about?" So I told him that to put it simply, it was just a vision
representing high authority - the Hierarchy. And then I asked him, "do you
see that path way that is lit up with the light coming from the out way?"
"And do you see that gateway and those two standing there guarding?" DEA
dude number one says, "Yeah." So then I answered, "to put it very simply,
ass holes can't pass thru the guardians to the avenue of the light and
beyond." Then DEA dude number one turns and says to DEA dude number two,
"Well I guess that leaves you out." DEA dude number two turns and glowers
at me as if he is just waiting for me to do something so he can kick my ass.
I guess DEA dude number one knows something about life!
BRIGHT MOMENT NUMBER TWO
The DEA squad was gathered in the living room standing around and I could
sort of sense that they were wondering - why the big deal (?). There was no
big grow op, or weed garden, or Meth lab, or guns or anything other than a
couple of shrooms growing in a terrarium. So I said, "Dee Eee fucking AA!"
One of them answered me, "in person - the real deal." The DEA dudes were
impressed with the view out the back of my house. They had to open all the
windows because the air in the house reeked of that super skunk weed I
smoked before I crashed on the couch the night before. Then one of them
noticed that the house seemed to be leaning towards the lake. The floor can
be detected to be slanting and also, the sliding glass door has an obvious
closing problem in that it doesn't shut tight at the bottom because of the
lean. One of the DEA dudes made a comment that the house is falling into
the lake (actually not, the house has been stable for decades), and I just
said, "who cares, you are going to take the house anyway." But in the end,
I kept the house, glory be!
As I sat there waiting for things to get finished up around the house,
another DEA dude sat near me and started some kind of bullshit philosophy
thing about it all being a "dream." I sort of engaged him, but then I got
pissed off and shrugged him off and told him to leave me the fuck alone.
"LIFE IS NOT A DREAM" I said strongly.
-------- The DEA special agent in charge turned out to be a pretty good guy,
in that he tried to do what he could do to make it easy on me. He started
to speed things up because I realized later that he wanted to get me before
the judge in the afternoon, so that I wouldn't have to be taken to the
Pierce county jail (an absolute hellish hole) because I would have to stay
there to catch the Judge the next day. The special agent knew that if I saw
the Judge in time, I would go to the Federal Detention Center at Seatac, a
much nicer place in comparison and I wouldn't be shocked with that county
lockup. They next took the handcuffs off of me and fingerprinted me. The
agents then put the handcuffs back on me and then did a total chain up.
This was a foreshadow of what was to come. They just don't put handcuffs on
you anymore, they chain you up so you can't run or lash out with your hands.
They make you very very safe, no matter what kind of bad ass motherfucker
you think you are. Then they had to process me further so they took me up
to the North Shore Ranger Station (a tourist place and ranger station
combined) for more processing. There was a fax machine there. So as I was
sitting there in the lovely North Shore Ranger Station, an old cedar wooden
building next to a tourist type trail the goes into the Rain Forest (The
Maple Glade Trail), they bring in Judy, all chained up. I got depressed.
Judy told me that she was not in bed when the fed vehicles came driving up
her driveway. She sensed something evil was coming her way but in the end,
the woman is a class act. She has some serious intuition. She lets them in
and they start their routine raid stuff. She protests at one point and one
of the agents pushed her down onto her couch and told her to shut up and not
to move. She told me that it hurt her a little bit. And that is because
she is extremely frail, but she was all right and they respected her. And
when they took her to the Ranger Station, they made sure she had her
medications (Oxycontin, Vicodin, Morphine and all of that good stuff that
she has by prescription). By the way, all of these years, I have never hit
her up for any of that good shit. I got a head on my shoulders with a
damned good brain in it.
But the special agent then told me, that they were not going to take her to
jail and that she was going to be released with a date with the judge. I
thanked him and began to feel a lot better. And again, instead of DEA dudes
watching me, there was a couple of fully armed (more armed than usual)
Olympic National Park Forest Rangers guarding me as the special DEA agent in
charge and his detectives were faxing stuff. Then I said to the two
rangers, "you know, right out that window," startled, because of my address
to them, they looked out the window to the green grassed deer field out in
back, I told them, "when the first rains hit at the end of summer around
September, there are thousands and thousands of Psilocybe Semilanceata
growing." They didn't really know what I was talking about, but I guess
they eventually figured out what I told them, and it was true. I have
watched that field for years in amazement as the magic lib caps appear like
clock work at the very first rains, even if it has been dry. But I only
look and don't pick. I hate ass holes who when they find some magic
shrooms, pick them all. If you are not going to eat any, leave them be so
that they can spread their glorious spores into the wind and proliferate.
That's respect for nature. Selling them as a drug is a bad business,
because people don't like buying shrooms, they prefer them for free.
So they unchain Judy, and she wishes me goodbye and walks free. I almost
cried for joy. Then off we go. The special DEA agent in charge puts me in
his car, a smallish gold colored thing. As they put me in the front seat, I
asked them, "what's with this piece of shit car?" "I thought you feds can
have any car you want - like a Mercedes or hot muscle cars that you get from
drug dealers." The special agent said, "We like to keep a low profile."
So as we were exiting and on our way, I looked at the special agent and was
quite amazed at how young he looked. I asked him, "compared to all of those
detectives and other agents, aren't you kind of young to be the leader?"
Then he looked at me and asked me to guess his age. I looked at him and
said, "31". Damn! I nailed him. He was impressed by that.
As we journeyed to the Puget Sound area, we are followed by a large dark
utility vehicle with tinted windows (fed) and we are driving pretty fast,
because the special agent in charge wanted to get me to the courthouse in
time to be processed and then sent to the much better place - the Federal
Detention Center at Seatac instead of spending overnight in the Pierce
County hell hole that is near the Tacoma Federal Courthouse (by the way, the
Tacoma Federal Courthouse has to be the most gorgeous courthouse in the USA
- an absolutely beautiful facility).
As we hit the highway linking Aberdeen to Olympia, that is cop alley. The
staters really control speeders and they are constantly giving speeding
tickets. I warned the special agent about them, and he told me that he
respects what they do, and I agreed. So lo & behold, the communications
radio linking the two fed vehicles started talking, "you got one on you,
he's going to stop you." And behind us, the blue flashing lights of a
stater was coming up fast. We pull over and the fed vehicle following us
pulls over to the side of the highway in wait (far back). The state cop
walks up to us and because he heard the radio chatter between the two fed
vehicles he leans into the window on my side, and says, "well what do we
have here?" The special agent then whips out a very impressive looking gold
badge. The stater looks back and scopes out the trailing vehicle who had
parked in wait, and my chains and then says, "you need to slow down, there
are plenty more of us (staters) out here." Off we go, and start speeding
again but with more alertness for the staters. I would warn the special
agent about certain stretches of the road where the staters would be hiding
I think we wound up at the Seattle Federal Courthouse, but I am not sure. I
was taken to a holding cell and then led out into the courtroom. There was
the special DEA agent in charge and the assistant US attorney waiting for
me. And there was Steve, one of my employees who was arrested at a motel he
was staying in getting ready to go to San Fran on a vacation. So we were
questioned and the judge asked me what my salary was. Then I just told him
I was making somewhere around 30 grand a month. The judge and his
assistants were quite amazed at all the hubbub around us and especially with
the presence of the assistant US attorney in the courtroom. The public
defender shook my shoulder as if to tell me to not talk. I was startled but
he seemed to think things were going to work out OK. That Public Defender
was a strange man with an odd reputation. But I remember him and I would
like to meet him one day but I don't recall his name, but I know I can find
out, because it is all in the record. The Judge was a magistrate judge. He
must have already known what the score was. It was all set up. So Steve
gets a Public Defender and I don't. Then we get carted off to the F.D.C.
DIVERSION NUMBER ONE - THE GRAND JURY
In my case, when the investigators (the US attorneys office, the DEA, the US
postal service and the Olympic national park authorities) decided to go
forward, they presented their information to a Tacoma Federal Court Grand
Jury. With a Grand Jury, the jury is not presented with any evidence from
the defense, because there is no defense. It is all up to the government to
prove its' case viable. They had plenty of juicy stuff to present to the
members of the jury, including nice photos from the DEA dudes investigative
PF style grow experiment he did. I think he used the PF strain - they were
fat in the photos. I guess the government showed the jury how "unique" I
was. They definitely didn't show them that the spores and lots of different
books had been marketed for at least a quarter of a century with no legal
problems ever. I guess they were made to believe that PF was unique and the
first. It is true, PF invented the best Cubie cultivation technique in
history and pioneered spore syringes, but still, there was nothing illegal
about spores and a book. So without any information to the contrary, the
feds convinced the jury to vote for an indictment. And then a few days
later, the fed court magistrate judge signed the search warrants and off the
DEA went on their fun little excursion into the deep dark dank forbidding
rain forest domain of the evil sorcerer, Professor PF, soon to be handcuffed
and carted off to jail.
DIVERSION NUMBER TWO - TAP AND WHISPER
When the raid went down and I got out of jail and got a lawyer, we then
began the brain storming and planning for my defense. One thing I really
learned that when one isn't a lawyer, anything one might come up with
usually can be shot down by any experienced lawyer in a couple of seconds,
no matter how much one may believe in the idea. The first thing I went to
was the constitution of the USA. The fourth amendment of the US
The right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers, and
effects, against unreasonable searches and seizures, shall not be violated,
and no warrants shall issue, but upon probable cause, supported by oath or
affirmation, and particularly describing the place to be searched, and the
persons or things to be seized.
It is well known that in a drug raid with a search warrant, that the cops
have to "KNOCK AND ANNOUNCE." Then, if there is no answer from within the
residence, the cops can bash the door down. This rule is violated all the
time by the police, and if the defendant complains in court, my lawyer told
me that it is very common for the police to just lie about it. The only way
one can fight a raid where there is a failure of the police to "knock and
announce," is to get testimony from one of the cops that took part in the
raid. But that is near impossible and just doesn't happen.
When I was raided by the DEA on february 18 2003, I awoke to the door being
bashed. I know that they did not "announce and knock." I even made a video
tape of the front approach to my house, the road, the parking spaces, the
front walk, the front door, the window in the top of the door, the front
window's view inside the house of the living room where I was sleeping on
the couch in full view, the side window and its view and on around to the
back of the house where the large glass sliding door is and the huge picture
windows looking out on the lake and forest. My lawyer didn't even want to
see it, because he knew it was futile. It was the DEA raiders word against
So let me describe what the video tape shows. The front of my house is
right on the road and there is a tall laurel hedge in front of most of the
house. But when one comes into the front to the front door, it is very easy
to see into the living room. At the front door is a window at the top of
the door. Any 6 foot tall person can stand on tip toe and get a clear view
of the entire living room including the couch I was sleeping on. In other
words, I was sleeping in full unobstructed view. Next, one takes a few
steps to the left and there is the front bay windows. Because of the laurel
bush, I don't leave the curtains down, I always leave them up for the
natural light that I enjoy. At those front windows, the living room is
fully revealed including the couch and anyone sleeping on it. Next, at the
front door, one goes right about 3 steps and then turns left around the
corner. There is another window with another full view of the living room
and a total frontal view of the couch and me on it. Then one continues a
few steps, walks up a couple of steps onto the back view porch deck and
before one gets to the corner of the house that faces the lake and forest,
one comes to the double glass sliding door. Again, because of the privacy
of the house situation, I never have the curtains closed, because that is
where the main natural light comes from. At that sliding glass door, one
can see the back of my head (balding) reclining on the couch, and the
stairway going up to the second floor of the house. Continuing around the
corner of the house to the back one finds a large window with a total view
of the lake and forest and likewise a total view into the living room.
The point is, is that I was on the couch in complete and easy view of anyone
that came to my house that morning of February 18. To get me up, a simple
knock at the door would have done the trip. Or, rapping on the glass window
with the edge of a coin would have got me up right off the bat, even if I
was sleeping heavy. I am not a heavy sleeper and any noticeable noise in
the house can usually awaken me. I woke up to no such knocking or rapping
at the window, but I woke up to the door being bashed. I am positive they
did not knock and announce. My lawyer said that the cops could easily just
say I didn't get up when they knocked. But I know that is total bull shit,
because I was about 12 feet from the front door, and any knocking on it
would have gotten me up.
I was talking to a lawyer with the ACLU and told her about that, and she
said that the DEA cops could always say that they suspected that I had a
weapon under the couch and that I was prepared to whip it out and kill them.
She asked me if that was actually possible and I said, "sure, I could have
had an Oozy submachine gun or M16 or AK47 under the couch hidden from view,
but I didn't." But I got her point.
So I wanted to really bring that up as part of my defense to show that the
raid was illegal and violated my constitutional rights. All of the lawyers
I talked to said to not bother, because it will be a fruitless path to go.
But then, I realized something just recently that I didn't really think
about then. I have kung fu weaponry around my house. In fact, right above
my head where I was sleeping on the couch, on the wall within easy reach,
was a metal tonfa. That is a marshall arts weapon that the cops now all
use. It is a club with a side handle and it is great for in close self
defense, defense against a knife attack and can yield a serious brain
crushing blow to any attackers head. So what I know now, is that my lawyer
was right without even knowing about that tonfa on the wall. The DEA cops
saw it and the leader just said, "BASH the door in, he's armed." And they
were right, I was armed. But, they had M16's that outgunned my feeble
little defense by miles. So in any case, I had no defense against their
failure to "knock and announce." They didn't have to knock and announce,
because I had within reach a very deadly defensive marshall arts weapon.
And I will bet any amount of money that I am right on target about that.
Then my next brainstorm was something that I think the ACLU and everybody
agreed with, and that was the first amendment of the US constitution and the
guarantee of freedom of speech and the right to publish.
Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or
prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech,
or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to
petition the government for a redress of grievances.
It has been said by many observers of my case, that to take spores that are
not illegal, and then add a book that is protected by the first amendment
right to publish to come out as illegal or a crime, is bad math. In other
words, legal spores plus a legal book equals an illegal act. The
governments position was that I "conspired" with my customers to produce an
illegal substance - psilocin. So what that really means, was that my
teaching from my book was the "conspiracy." Even my probation officer says
that I was operating in a "gray area." But I was thinking that that is
really true, that I was teaching my customers how to break the law, but they
are the ones that were doing it and not me (excluding my illegal grow op -
but my grow op was not what I was marketing around the world). I was
teaching my customers how to produce the illegal drug psilocin, but wasn't
that their responsibility? I am the teacher, and they can do whatever they
want with the knowledge that I teach them. To blame the teacher for the
students crimes to me is not what the first amendment can allow. The
"conspiracy" charge was the heart of the governments case against me, but
they did drop it almost immediately (for a big charge - the forfeiture). I
will always believe that I was in the right and the US government did wrong,
but what can I do? I don't have the time or the money to make something out
of it, other than writing this and trying to tell the world about how the US
government violated my first amendment rights through power and bullying.
So it seemed to me, that since I live in the USA, and my business was "gray
area", it would be the job of the US government to close the "loophole" that
I was jumping through. I have always believed that the USA was a country
that gave its citizens the greatest freedom in history, but lately, I think
it's going downhill. To me, one of the real hallmarks of "freedom" is the
ability to "stretch" the rules a bit. Stretching the rules is something
that all artists do. Even the 18th century German composer Mozart's father
would complain that Wolfgang's music wasn't "quite right." What daddy
Mozart was missing, was that young Wolfgang was creating new rules. That is
art. And I would include the art of freedom also. But no, the US
government has embarked on the doctrines of "zero tolerance." And instead
of giving me the benefit of the doubt, and closing the loophole I was
jumping through (spores are not against the federal law), they just slammed
me and through the power of their bullying, they knew they could stop me the
easy way, without passing any new laws or going through a legislative
process. Closing of the "loophole" would be to make the spores federally
illegal just as the states of California, Georgia and Ohio have done.
I believe that the government knew that their case had a weakness. That is
why they offered me the plea agreement to drop count one, the "conspiracy to
distribute" (even though it cost me three properties and a couple of bank
accounts to do just that - it was expensive - but, the best "justice" money
can buy, praise the lord). In my opinion, the government knew I could put
up a good fight and possibly win, but they also knew that it would cost me
everything in legal fees and years to do it going from one court to another
all the way to the United States Supreme court. That is a slow and tedious
process, and I don't have the inclination or the time to go through it. I
want to live my life. So the government gave me a decent plea agreement,
gave me back 3 properties, 2 cars and money, went easy on my wife, dismissed
the charges on my other two codefendants, and gave me a drug felony that
will follow me the rest of my life. In my case, I could really care less.
Being a felon means nothing to me. And, the US attorney in charge of my
case, told me that all they really wanted was for me to get a felony which
could then be used to prosecute other people that would want to do what I
did. The government has their precedent. The vagueness of their law has
become tighter because they are bigger and badder than the Professor.
Posted 29 May 2004 - 12:48 PM
The thing is that I had to get the book behind me. I have been writing it (sporadically) and thinking about it for 25 years.
The good thing, is that my step daughter just phoned me from New York city. I just sent it to her and she told me it is GOOD! She even said it was humorous. But what is important about her opinion is that she is very honest with me. She was also a prize winning poet when she was a kid, and she is well read so she has brains as well as looks. I am very happy she liked it, because if she didn't, she would tell me the truth. She doesn't humour me about anything. Also, she was in the indictment but they didn't go after her because she split a couple of years before the raid. The feds even got a photo of her and her ex boyfriend delivering syringe boxes to the post office (camera installed just for them).
So now I am persuing a publication with book publishers that specialize in books on Biblical criticism.
and, The ACLU called me and said if the government won't let me sell my groovey little PF TEK book (still have a few hundred of them) they are going to jump in. Wouldn't that be cool if the government says no to me selling my book! The ACLU said to get a yes or no in writing from them. If they say no, I could very well be a Plaintiff in Federal Court, backed up by the ACLU. But, I think the feds got more brains than that, and they are going to have to say yes. So when that happens, I will be selling PF TEK books. And they are now a collectors item.
Posted 29 May 2004 - 02:24 PM
i thought it was awesome... a bit deep for me, but my dad, who's a bible scholar, really got into it...
this book has added a lot to our biblical discussions, and given us a whole lot of new info...
i guess mushroom people don't go out much for religion...
Posted 29 May 2004 - 02:30 PM
Good luck professor.
(Message edited by I_am_me on May 29, 2004)
Posted 29 May 2004 - 02:37 PM
Hell, I'd go as far as to say you'd have a major audience were you to write something like that. Next thing you know you're on the NY times best sellers list for 10 straight weeks in a row!
Followed by appearances on David Letterman and then a major movie contract casting Keanu Reeves in the role of PF, the dad from "American Chopper" in the role of Hippie3, and Agent Smith from the Matrix as your DEA agent.
Dude, that would rule!!!
Posted 29 May 2004 - 03:47 PM
Posted 29 May 2004 - 05:30 PM
the dad from "American Chopper" in the role of Hippie3
i want chong to play me,
when he gets parole.
Edited by Sidestreet, 04 September 2016 - 01:32 PM.
Posted 29 May 2004 - 05:31 PM
why not sell your story to
HIgh Times ?
bet they'd publish it,
maybe even Playboy.
Posted 29 May 2004 - 05:32 PM
Total bust except for one order. But I don't care because I expected that.
that was actually fairly predictable,
not too many jesus freaks left anymore.
Edited by Sidestreet, 04 September 2016 - 01:32 PM.
Posted 29 May 2004 - 05:42 PM
My guess is they'd be fallin all over themselves getting to your manuscript.
Posted 30 May 2004 - 12:39 AM
I will work on the idea for a narrative thing.
Posted 30 May 2004 - 08:49 AM
Posted 30 May 2004 - 08:54 PM
Posted 31 May 2004 - 12:43 AM
630 North Shore
Amanda Park Washington 98526
Posted 31 May 2004 - 07:56 AM
I will work on the idea for a narrative thing.
just a suggestion
but since you're a bit of a 'nut job'
you might want to have someone ghost-write it for you so it focuses more on what interests your potential customers/readers
and less on your 'crack-pot' theories and ideas.
hope you don't take offense but i think folks would be more interested in the life story itself than any of your ideas on religion or history or politics, tripping, whatever.
just my $.02
Edited by Sidestreet, 04 September 2016 - 01:33 PM.
Posted 31 May 2004 - 02:51 PM
Posted 31 May 2004 - 09:41 PM
I was in the boy scouts when a pre teen.
I went to High School and played in the band.
I smoked pot and took LSD and all kinds of drugs when I was in the US Air Force.
That doesn't sound interesting to me.
What I have to do is make my "crack pot" ideas interesting by putting them into some sort of dramatic background.
I think my "nutty" ideas are the best thing about what I am thinking. You haven't got the slightest inkling of how really nutty I can get.
How about an extra terrestrial contact that I had on a trip once? My ideas are experiences that I actually believe that I had. I aint bull shittin'.
I think the book I have been considering (already have an outline) can go into Science fiction, it is a story that I believe I actually experienced. I am going to make nothing up, essentially.
For instance, what I am posting over at NANSNOOK is almost complete bullshit and I know it, but they don't.
Posted 01 June 2004 - 02:33 AM
Post Number: 84
Posted on Monday, May 31, 2004 - 07:51 pm:
hey billy boy you've got mail
No I don't. Your email is a non answerable
Just go to my web site.
Posted 01 June 2004 - 07:11 AM
at least for starters,
might be an interview.
an interview format would allow the narrator to pose questions about your life and career,
and still give you leeway to 'express yourself'.
i see such in Playboy and High Times.
and what's interesting about your life is your tek, not your merit badges.
tell you what,
why not start here ?
i'll interview you.
just you and i in a special thread,
you'll have complete control
over final content and format.
i'll pose a series of questions,
and you just stream-of-conciousness
when we're done,
if you like it,
you can use it.
Posted 01 June 2004 - 04:46 PM
Ok, so how do we begin? let's go!