Masters of Brewtality gets stoned to the bone on some of Noble Herb’s Jack Herer

Welcome back to the crypt, boils and ghouls, this month, the diabolical creeps and geeks of Masters of Brewtality are bringing you something special. While our usual content is craft beer centric, over the years we’ve spewed out features on kava kava, kratum, berserker mead infused with psychedelic mushrooms and pretty much any other inebriant we can legally discuss, but we’ve glossed over this edition’s focus and, frankly, it’s a crying shame. This foul February, we getting stoned to the bone.

First, a little history… Down here in the sewers of the MOB crypt, we spent decades toking up daily, but, when they legalized, it took all the edginess out of it. We lost interest. If your mom in Sun City is talking about how her friends are taking edibles to ease their arthritis, it’s just not epic anymore, and that’s the way it is. Flashback to 2006. The fledgling staff of Masters of Brewtality took their first trip to Amsterdam in search of getting as far out as humanly possible. Medicinal marijuana in America was just starting out, and the “green card” was basically a myth for anyone interested in getting one. Recreational weed was literally a pipe dream, and those of us that enjoyed the devil’s lettuce risked expulsion, imprisonment and, worst of all, drug tests at minimum wage jobs. So, we packed our bags and hopped across the pond to the Promised Land in the Neth- erlands. Over the course of the 16-hour flight, we obsessed over a used edition of Heads magazine we’d acquired from Bookman’s and studied the most popular strains in the world and their effects. We were going to hit it hard on all fronts. At the time, the most potent strain on the planet was Super Silver Haze, coming in at a punishing 18% THC, which today, hilariously, barely passes as mids. But, being the psychonaughts we were, we were most interested in the trippy strains, and, for that, we found Jack Herer.

Named for the sometimes called “Emperor of Hemp,” Jack Herer was a marijuana activist for the majority of his life until his rock ‘n’ roll, dope-smoking lifestyle cut his life short at the youthful age of 70, and the strain that took his name was equally radical. Color contrast between the lush green trees lining the canals of Amsterdam and the vibrant blue sky were never more defined, and the Van Gogh and Rembrandt art galleries lit up like flickering campfires. We were hooked, and last month, we decided to revisit this most beloved of strains.

We hit the relatively new Noble Herb shop off Route 66 on a Monday afternoon and picked up a couple cartridges and a half ounce of flower that ran around a meager $40 “Dear Lord,” we thought, remembering when a quarter in high school would run $20 for the seediest crap ever to be smuggled in a muffler, and now we’re holding our favorite strain for roughly the same price twenty years later. What a time to be alive!

We’ll be honest here… We’re not fans of the contemporary weed purchasing environment. It has always felt like buying a cell phone, and we’d be lying if we said we didn’t miss the thrill of the hunt. Of course, legalization has kept millions out of the prison industrial complex, and that’s pretty groovy. But the cashiers at these places don’t even try to make you stick around for fifteen minutes watching weird videos on YouTube, and, boils and ghouls, that’s not necessarily a bad thing. The amount of objectively crap music that’s been forced on the MOB staff over the years buying illegal weed is criminal in a way that supersedes the laws of the land and we’re grateful to be able to just jump in and out. All in all, the experience was painless and the staff was very nice.

Onto torching the jazz cabbage! Jack Herer is still great. The staff huddled into the only corner of the crypt that wasn’t leaking fluid, and we all watched stupid movies and ate homemade pizookies Coffee ice cream over not-quite-cooked chocolate chip dough is pretty much the best thing you can do for yourself after getting ripped to the gills We’d recommend pairing this strain with a visually stimulating movie like “Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse” or “Mad Max: Fury Road” or jumping head first into a fresh artistic pursuit like calligraphy. Anxiety on this strain was pretty low, which is a huge plus for anyone trying to exist in this existential nightmare we call daily life, and while not a single member of the MOB staff could pull it together enough to venture outside, we all kind of assumed we could possibly hold a semi-sane conversation if need be. And plants still looked awesome.

Overall, the freaks and geeks of Masters of Brewtality are yet again on Team Giggle Grass We’ll never give up our beloved beer, but, hot damn, it’s nice to have options. Until next month, friends, stay crispy!

Mike Williams (your titular Master of Brewtality) is a humble tattoo artist, egotistical writer, relentless beer drinker, unrepentant Hellraiser and connoisseur of all things Doom Metal. You can find him slinging ink at Flagstaff Tattoo Company or at some bar downtown.