The Politically Incorrect Show - 28/07/2000
[Music - Die Fledermaus]
Good afternoon, KAYA ORAAAA & welcome to the Politically Incorrect Show on the free speech network, Radio Pacific, for Friday July 28, proudly sponsored by Neanderton Nicotine Ltd, the show that says bugger the politicians & bureaucrats & all the other bossyboot busybodies who try to run our lives with our money; that stands tall for free enterprise, achievement, profit & excellence against the state-worshippers in our midst; that stands above all for the most sacred thing in the universe, the liberty of the human individual.
[Music up, music down]
Today I bring you glad tidings. On the strength of her colourful calls to this programme, the notorious Hooch Helen is being auditioned for part-time hosting duties on this network. Matter of fact, she's in the studio with me now, not to audition but to find out how NOT to do it. In honour of the occasion, I thought I'd resurrect a tribute to her called The Crusade of Hooch Helen, written by a friend & admirer. It captures the fighting spirit of this remarkable cancer-battler & freedom-fighter whom I am privileged to have influenced to a significant degree. The language of this ballad is occasionally crude - a little like Hooch herself - so if you're likely to be offended by it, please tune out for a few minutes. Here it is:
The Crusade of Hooch Helen
Listen to this tale I tell, a story from the sticks
And one to shock the daylights out of bureaucratic pricks.
'Tis the story of one woman, a diamond in the rough;
A woman of high principle, determined, righteous, tough.
Helen is her moniker, and in the hills she's found,
Living off what she can breed, emerging from the ground.
Yes, while most succumb to city life, Miss Hooch got off her arse
And bought one hundred acres just to cultivate her grass.
Now the ignorant won't understand, but that is no excuse;
This grass is not for sale or trade, but only for her use.
Imagine if you will, my friends, the lighting of a smoke,
Home-grown for your own benefit, the sweetest pleasure toke.
Some may gasp and sigh at this, and grumble of the law,
But their arguments don't measure up, despite their ceaseless caw.
To the "common good" our heroine does not present a threat;
She smokes the stuff to ease her pain, itıs what relief she gets.
Twice sheıs fought with cancerıs grip, and twice proclaimed a win;
So a puff or two to ease the pain can hardly reek of sin.
Yet still persist the busy-beaks, unthinking sticks-in-mud,
Who've never known the joy one gets from smoking sticky buds.
Such puritans pooh-pooh and preach of such illegal deeds,
And squint their eyes when someone cries, "It's time to free the weed."
Yet all the while, without a care, as the others whine & moan,
Hooch Helen far up on the hill just calmly grows her own.
Never will she give it up or leave her crop to fail,
And woe betide the system should they pack her off to jail.
For should the lengthy arm of law reach out to touch her patch,
The law may find, with Helenıs kind, theyıve finally met their match.
A fighter for her cannabis, the queen of private green,
She'll take on any dictator, and the tyrants in between.
Our Helen understands the right to simply get along;
Regardless of legality, she sees right and wrong.
Hooch Helen dares to stand alone, to raise defiant voice,
To tell the world the whole damn thingıs a simple act of choice:
The right to choose a different road, and walk that road alone,
The right to choose a course in life and keep it as your own.
Nothing evil, nothing bad, just basic liberty --
Unrecognised by those who cling to petty tyranny.
Hooch Helen, we salute you, and may your grass grow strong;
May it be decriminalised before your life has gone.
May the day come soon when we can join with you to light
A joint of huge dimensions, a toast to Helenıs fight.
And as the sun goes down each day, may this remain your creed
If nothing else in life is freed, at least let's free the weed!
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