who controls the pod,
controls the law.

 It took our committee over fourteen months to 
synthesize and edit our Manifesto, the most significant work
of social philosophy since Marx and Engels.
The work that would carry UtopiAmalgamated into the 
next stage of universal citizenship, equality and satisfaction.
	It took Mr. Lithic, (non)professional passive saboteur,
thirty minutes to smoke completely the finished copy.
Roll its perfect print, every word weighed and evaluated
by a panel of dedicated experts, around a few gees 
of fragrant green, salivate lightly and christen, 
flick of the finger and smoke, exhale sharp aroma and 
evaporated manifesto. 
The Asst. Director arrived for the Panel's presentation 
and Lithic cornered him in the UtAm Hq. Lobby. 
Lithic exhaled a dry miasma of THC and began explaining 
incoherently that he was out of green but could he maybe 
score a few gees of pod? The Asst. Dir. promptly 
left after being called a pinko squared. 
	Intended utopia has its limits and the 
penultimate authority in our organization 
was less than pleased. 
	Restructuring commenced.
	Rampant demolition, reduction and transfer. 
Lithic proceeded to peddle dope to the unemployed and
desperate citizens.  To fund their increasing and
overpriced dependencies they turned to subversive
and criminal activities.  They began to steal
pharmaceuticals from the Company, all for sale
to Lithic and his associates (primarily pretty
recently post-adolescent drop outs with paint
over yellow fingernails) who ilegaly
redistributed them to the aforementioned
unemployed and desperate.
	In this manner was the Company-controlled 
utopia rapidly rendered dystopian.
	In less than a year the former Asst.Dir. of UtAm
had become a high(ly) (dis)placed (un)official 
in Lithic's (dis)organization.
	Lithic achieved a position almost mythic in scope.
	The counter culture pariah became a cultural regenerator.
	Several assassination attempts were made by disgruntled
company hardliners.  In no time the media had
transformed Lithic from insignificant and unsightly
dope fiend to messianic dope-master of the
new world order, a virtual emperor.
	The quality of commercial marijuana quickly became
miraculous; another testament to Lithic's power.
The story spread that once at a failing party in the 
hills of Hollywood Lithic turned a dozen bags of mown
grass into prime Cannabis Cup pod.
	The final frontier is the shifting smoke of mary jane, 
dry green mother of mystery with the sharp perfume and teeming eyes.