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  Roll Up for Mardi Grass
Posted by CN Staff on May 11, 2002 at 07:08:53 PT
By Emma Tom 
Source: The Australian 

cannabis The judges of the Cannabis Cup share many characteristics with wine tasters. Spitting out the entries isn't one of them. "How can you tell how good the dope is if you don't inhale?" says one seasoned adjudicator. "Obviously we all end up terribly stoned – but that's the price we're willing to pay."

The Cannabis Cup "smoke-off" is the high point of the annual Nimbin Mardi Grass, held in far north NSW last weekend. This idiosyncratic and at times uproarious gathering attracts up to 10,000 people and started back in 1992 as a political rally against helicopter raids and drug laws.

In an interesting parallel with the Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras, some Nimbinites are complaining that the event has become flippant and mainstream, a party rather than a protest.

Old-timers bemoan the $10 a day entry fee (up until this year it was free), the emphasis on cannabis rather than all drug law reform and the inflated prices of modern-day marijuana.

The youngsters, meanwhile, would be happy if there was more dance music and less of that 1970s May the Long Time Sun Shine Upon You hippie shit.

"Last year, my son Romany and [the son of the founder of Mardi Grass] organised a doof party during Mardi Grass more or less as a direct response to what they viewed as the commercialisation and trivialisation of pretty important issues," says Neil Pike, a local musician and activist.

"Many of the young people that had come to Mardi Grass were looking kinda worried before this. Some were starting to think that maybe pot did cause irreversible brain damage, turning you into the sort of boring zombie that really got off on bad Neil Young covers and endless marijuana minutiae."

To outsiders unfamiliar with local politics, the idea of an illegal drug festival becoming too commercial is kinda amusing. In fact, the closest thing to commercialism on the main street of Nimbin last Saturday morning is the barbecued-sausage spruiker.

"Sausages only $2," he bawls. Not that he really needs to spend so much energy on promotional stunts. His only real competition in the non-vegetarian stakes is the house up the road advertising $1 kittens.

Down in the mud bath of Peace Park, the starter's pistol fires for the Hemp Olympix. First up is the speed roll, which involves manufacturing a three-paper standard joint at a cracking, F1 pace. Next comes the artistic roll, in which competitors use unlimited papers to craft space shuttles, dolphins and weird lumps, which make sense only if you are really, really wasted (one entrant claims her lump is "the potential of a harmonica"). All entries are then tested for smokeability.

The growers iron person event, meanwhile, is best categorised as a blood sport. This gruelling contest replicates the rigours of growing bush marijuana, with contenders required to race through a punishing obstacle course carrying 40kg bags of fertiliser before scrabbling through a leech and tick-infested lantana tunnel with buckets of water.

"You got a nice patch somewhere out there, son?" the comperes call at one lurching athlete. "Come on, stoner!" The crowd seems unperturbed by the sight of pale, iron-deficient vegan-types collapsing under the weight of whoppin' great sacks of Dynamic Lifter. Fortunately, St John ambulance volunteers are on hand to revive the fallen.

"Growing dope is like that – it's really hard," says organiser Michael Balderstone from Nimbin's HEMP Embassy. "You don't see many fat hippies."

Out-of-towners stick out like greyhound balls in Nimbin, so I sign up for the bong throw to prove I am not an undercover narcotics operative or sniffer dog in disguise.

The exact purpose of the bong throw is unclear. Some say it is supposed to simulate the rapid disposal of marijuana apparatus during raids, but Balderstone maintains it's a public health warning about the dangers and general tackiness of Orchy bottle bongs.

"Our message is 'throw out your second-rate bongs'," he says. "When plastic heats up it releases a lot of chemicals, but there's also the garden hose issue. You can't leave a hose in your front yard in Nimbin. It'll disappear three inches at a time." At first glance, my fellow bong throw competitors seem a motley bunch with their dreads, tie-dyed singlets and mud-caked thighs. But their knowledge of the physics involved in hurling a plastic bottle full of fetid bong water through foggy mountain air is second to none.

"Underarm or overarm doesn't seem to make a difference as long as you keep the water in the bong for as long as possible," says one elite thrower. His demonstration toss is not a good example. It arcs wildly to the left and hits a bunch of spectators on the head. Their delayed and somewhat drowsy reaction suggests outrage is beyond them.

"That's the great thing about running this festival," notes Balderstone. "Once everyone gets stoned, they don't care what happens." Even if they did care, the HEMP Embassy has it all covered. Unlike so many other Australian events, Mardi Grass has been able to secure public liability insurance for nearly all its program.

Despite at least five minutes of rigorous preparation, my bong throw is a limp and wayward affair that nearly wipes out a couple of middle-aged women dressed as ganja faeries.

Not that anyone is watching. The weekend is drawing to a close and there is a frisson of excitement around the $5 raffle ticket vendor. The prizes are not crap meat trays. They're coveted seats on the judging panel of the Cannabis Cup – the infamous competition designed to identify and honour the growers of the region's best pot.

At 5.30 pm on Sunday, the raffle is drawn and 12 winners are driven to a secret location with a handful of guest judges and industry representatives.

"We got off the bus and walked into this absolutely beautiful house coming face to face with two big tables, one covered in an absolutely amazing smorgasbord and the other groaning under the weight of the biggest marijuana heads I have ever seen in my life," reflects Bob Tissott, a judge from Nimbin's community FM radio station.

"They were 15ft long [4.5m] and as thick as your wrist. We walked round the table squeezing, sniffing and scratching, then the call came to start smoking and there was a melee, an absolute feeding frenzy. After that, everyone got very, very quiet." The winner was No 2, an "indoor organic" entry grown by a couple of brothers about 300km west of Nimbin. According to pundits, the strain's distinguishing characteristics are a soft and furry appearance and a flavour redolent of Juicy Fruit gum.

Marijuana enthusiasts will be gratified to know that – for the time being, at least – this award-winning product remains out of police custody.

The only Mardi Grass participant who ran foul of the law last weekend was a parade-goer who'd dressed as a policeman. Apparently his fake sniffer dog was unregistered.

Source: Australian, The (Australia)
Author: Emma Tom
Published: May 11, 2002
Copyright: 2002 News Limited
Contact: ausletr@matp.newsltd.com.au
Website: http://www.theaustralian.com.au/

Nimbin Mardi Grass 2002
http://www.nimbinmardigrass.com/

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Comment #1 posted by SWAMPIE on May 11, 2002 at 12:04:07 PT
OH NUMBIN,COME HOME!!!!!!
If only I/we could all be rich!The thought of the smell alone dazzles me!!!!Hell! Gotta go burn one now!

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