Letters To  The Editor


November 23, 1986


     I grew some excellent pot in the deep brush of a city forest this year, Pecan Valley area, starting with 700 plants and ending up with almost 250 mature females, six to ten feet tall, of incredible sinsemilla bud.  I harvested during two intense hours of heavy rain, October 23rd, ahead of my timetable (I had wanted them to mature for at least a couple of more months, until the first hard freezes).  The Harvest occurred because when I went to pull a few buds for myself and some close friends, way back in the brush, there was a yellow, plastic police ribbon stretched across the final crawlspace going in, saying (emphatically), Crime Scene: Do Not Cross.  Apparently, they had knocked it off from the air, using infrared.

     Cosmically, these guys only took two of my plants (did it taste good?), -larger ones, unfortunately, and left the rest for me to take home to my Tribe.  My thanks, -our thanks- to our narcotics brothers who do not come out in the rain, and for leaving those plants I worked on for so long (this was my fourth year out there in the brush).  Oh, and for that pretty yellow plastic strip (Crime Scene...) that I took back, for a good laugh among My People.

     We want to tell our narcotics brothers that their loss of this excellent weed will in no way increase the already rapid breakdown of this national and international planetary "civilization", preceding Lord Jesus' physical return as Messiah.  We are old, hard-working (even spiritual) hippies who don't do any of the heavy "drugs" (I have never smoked tobacco, but would not pull a gun on those that do), although we occasionally use psilocybin and peyote for spiritual Ceremonies, -again, "illegally", these having angelic, supernatural Teachers within them.

     Enclosed is a picture, print-free, and sample of the Harvest.  No offense, our brothers who do not come out in the rain.  This bud's for you.                                                                                                               




                               MESSIN' WITH THE LAW:



                                                                                   Edward Eiland

                                                                                   General Delivery

                                                                                   Kerrville, Texas 78028

                                                                                   October 14, 2005


Drug Enforcement Administration

Re: The marijuana "laws".


Dear friends,

     This is a letter I have been meaning to write for several years now.  May you and your staff enjoy it, as have a great deal of good friends, even though you may not agree with our views.


Concerning the idiocy of the satanic marijuana "laws".


     I got busted for a few marijuana plants on my farm/paradise on the San Antonio River 25 miles south of town on July 15, 1977.  I was renting a two-bedroom, spacious older house on a hill overlooking a big field bordering my huge river trees, -100 acres- for $75 a month from a real nice, older Mexican lady.  There were no neighbors, arrowheads everywhere, musket balls, old coins (I was right on top of an ancient village), hawks in the sky, coyote serenades at night with the sky on fire with stars.  I was way up an old dirt road past my gate, so I put a few sprouts (about 45) out in my garden.  They were just babies, about seven feet tall and just going to bud, when a CPS meter reader with a gate key snitched me off, and I and my gentle lady, Mary, woke up that morning with six guns in our faces (I was unarmed, except for those very dangerous, man-eating plants).  So it's true: marijuana does cause violence.

     Ironically, the Bust capped three years of intense post-graduate spiritual/mystical training in that idyllic wilderness: seven dreams a night, including clairvoyance, prophecy (I saw the Bust, symbolically, several months before it happened), angelic and djinn visitations (sometimes with close friends as witnesses), astral work, etc.  But allow me to digress.

     I attended Castle Hills Elementary, In S.A., at Honeysuckle and Loop 410 (some of it before 410 was even built) my first six years, with brilliant, dedicated teachers.  I was editor of the school paper in the fifth and sixth grades, pitcher of the S.A. championship Little League baseball team, and made one B (the rest straight A's) in those six years, so they put me in all advanced courses as I opened Nimitz and Eisenhower middle schools their first years, then all through my graduation at Robert E. Lee: top 2% academically, 95 GPA, Northeast ISD math champion (mental computation), all kinds of sports, two years in Explorer Scouts.

     I attended the University of Texas at Austin, -hook 'em- from 1967 to 1971 (Vietnam era, Nixon and Agnew, hippies and anti-war protests, Kent State, $100 pounds of high-quality weed, etc.), for a B.A. in psychology (unknowingly preceding my total immersion in world religions and the occult, and God's DIRECT, holographic relationship with humanity), with a double minor in English and math.  I returned to S.A. for my Master's Degree in Social Work at Our Lady Of The Lake University in 1973 (where I first learned of Carlos Castaneda and his studies with Don Juan, and had my first, very dangerous encounters with supernatural beings).

     I first got stoned in 1970, as a junior in college, with some beautiful, close friends.  I figured since Nixon, who was an evil man, said it was bad I definitely ought to try it.  After an extremely humorous and eventful visit to a convenience store, while talking politics, life, etc., with these good folks, I closed my eyes.  Jimi Hendrix (my favorite artist forever) was on the stereo, and I found myself watching him play, holographically (multi-dimensional), totally dressed in white.  Where his fingers came to the strings, they tapered into pure energy and blended into Oneness with the strings (and thus with the guitar).  As I watched this, fully aware and objectively, a little voice in the back of my head said, incredulously, "This is illegal?!", and I copped an attitude, right then and there.

     One plant was a "felony", according to these insane, manmade "laws", and so the Bust, the third of nine growing seasons to date (the rest in deep brush, back with the rattlesnakes), destroyed my fledgling professional career and has, as per God's will, put me among many good people in the disfranchised, minimum-wage, lower echelons of American society for the majority of the past 28 years.  The loss to myself and the S.A. community over this idiotic, AND THUS SATANIC, manmade "law" is inestimable (I already had several years of professional and volunteer work with abused, retarded, emotionally disturbed, and multiple-handicapped children and youths, all of who no doubt went on to become drug addicts, for their association with me), but I have learned a lot.  Academic education only goes so far, -pitifully so when compared with street/world/wilderness learning, which goes on forever.

     How many tens of thousands of good people have been harmed, perhaps irrevocably, by this "law", created by a pre-Hoover FBI Director, Anslinger, against a conveniently helpless target group of blacks, musicians, and country folks wise enough to enjoy the physical and mental benefits of this gentle, mildly psychotropic herb?

     "The execution of an unjust law is the highest form of tyranny." -Supreme Court Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes.  "Woe unto those who enact evil statutes." -The Bible.


     Thank you for taking the time to read this.  I hope ya'll enjoy it as much as we have.  Have a toke, kick back, order a pizza.


God bless,



Cc: President George Bush

      Vice President Cheney

      Drug Enforcement Administration, Texas and Washington, D.C.

      F.B.I. (four major offices in Texas, headquarters in Washington D.C.)

     About ten Texas State Representatives, plus U.S. Senators

     Several major newspapers


     High Times