So I don't know where to start because I don't know where I left off, because I haven't read it. All I know is that tonight, Sunday night is a week from when Larry and I left the city.

We met at the west side of Central Park and 78th st. at a flea market there. I had just been to the Not In Our Name peace rally and it was awesome. I met the two wonderful guyas, Rebecca and Abby gale doing radical cheers. Saul Williams, Susan Sarandon, and Tim Robbins, were but a few of the speakers addressing the crowd, who's number was well into the thousands. It was powerful to see all the different people from different groups, from different places, different backgrounds, different classes, different ages, different viewpoints, all coming together, amassing, unifying in dissent. We took the pledge of resistance, standing in solidarity with people all around the world in an effort to denounce the ongoing onslaught of war upon helpless human beings. Profit is the true motive, disguised as self defence. Spun, it's the War on Terror.

The war is a sham, and many know this while millions wander. Watching and reading the news in disbelief, Here is a point to ponder... If the media is owned, and run by elites With thousands of heads beneath their feats, Why would they print, publish, portray, or even say anything which could help to crumble their corrupt sand castle? Or loosen the firm and unyielding handhold That the patriarchs have had on our Mother?

I'd found out about the Not In Our Name (www.DemocracyRising.org) gathering on Friday when G.L. and I went to see Ralph Nader speak in front of the stock exchange. There was Patti Smith and tons of cops, rather docile, though, and the people were cordoned off into these crowd control pens with metal barricades defining the space that we could occupy. If on you're the outside, ya gotta keep moving.. Nader is a good public speaker, he holds your attention and has done his research. He hits the nail on the head time and time again. He inspired me to keep up the struggle, even if that just means watching where and how I spend my money.

One other thing that Nader has helped start is the network of PIRG's (Public Interest Research Groups) that are on campuses all across North America. OPIRG at Brock helped The Hemp Caravan out a lot, both with resources of information, as well as photocopying. And since it's for the public, anyone can get involved, it's not just for students.

G.L. and I went to Ground Zero and walked around. At this point , it's a big hole in the ground. It just looks like a big construction site. It's hard to imagine the buildings towering as they had not too long ago. All in all, it was pretty trippy. Across the street from Ground Zero is a bit of a memorial, where people bring things to offer the dead, or to commemorate the moment. There's also a mini street market where folks can purchase their souvenirs and all sort s of other memorabilia. You can find photos, photo books, paintings, tee-shirts, World Trade Centre paperweights, and roasted nuts, all things pertinent to the tragic events on 9-11. Hey it's the American way. I decided that there'd be no better place to swing papers than right here, right now.

Pure Hemp Rolling Papers! Trrrrrrreeeee Frrrrrreeeeee. There's no Trees in these. All Natural Glue. Need a pack of papers? Papers for donation. I'll trade you anything for a pack of rolling papers. Free hemp information? How 'bout a sticker? When along comes a pair who were obviously at Nader's speech. They weren't into the papers because they don't smoke, but they liked the shtick. A couple of Radical Cheerleaders they were, from Florida. These Guyas came all the way up for the Not in Our Name Rally on Sunday. We decided that since we were heading in the same direction, we ought to walk together. I was on my way to the headquarters at number 9 Bleeker St. in Greenwich village and was able to make it sound interesting enough to convince these two guyas to come along. The truth be told, I didn't know really what the headquarters were for, I just felt that since I was invited by the woman who was handing out Marijuana March posters for May 3, 2003, I oughtta go! The two guyas and I walked in the rain as it was steadily drizzling. Just as it was really coming down, we walked under a construction scaffold where there was a stoop that invited us to picnic there. I had a nice green Avocado, some hummus and some rye bread in my backpack that I'd been saving for just such an occasion. There on Broadway, the guyas and I had a great little meal.

You may notice that I keep referring to my company as guyas. That's because that day I kept calling them guys, even though there was no mistaking that these were two wonderful ladies. I acknowledged this the second time I called them guys, so with their help, we decided that the best way to weed out that linguistic form of patriarchic oppression would be to call them Gaia. This would help to reintroduce in me the respect that these women deserve. The problem was that after that determination, I kept slipping and calling them guys. It was crazy how many times I'd call them guys, then notice and try to say guya to make up for it. It was a totally eye opening experience.

The rain had subsided and we found the headquarters in no time. It was just a grey door on a side-street, and it felt neat to be there. The door opened with a who are you and what do you want kind of vibe. After explaining our invitation situation, we were let in, then invited upstairs. It turned out that we were in Dana's home, A.K.A. the Cures-not-Wars headquarters! For thirty years, grassroots activism had been emanating from this space. It had a calm feeling of years of toil and struggle. We shot the Breeze, shared ideas and some experiences, they are active in the ibogaine scandal. It all ended rather abruptly, when I learned the time, and was supposed to be at my G.L's for dinner. The Guyas and I rushed out and said see ya later soon after. As I walked away, I realized I never met their names. Oh well, next time...

Saturday was a day to relax in George Washington Square, before heading up to the Beacon Theatre to see Ratdog. Hemphry was babysat by New Yorkers all day, and kept free from the charges of the meter man. The Ratdog show was impeccable. I was miracled out front by a nice Lady. I didn't even have my finger up, but I guess she knew. I thought I was on the guestlist at the time, but I took the ticket just in case. I wasn't on the guestlist. Bobby was on fire and so was New York. Everybody was happy and it felt just like the good old days. Corinna was smoking, he opened the second set with Cold Rain & Snow, closed with Saturday Night: Nobody does it like Bobby....and encored with Bokedown Palace. Warren stood in on the second set. WOW!

So here's the second half of New York. More to come, if you see anything else to link to, by all means, link. thanks it's late, goodnight.

Johannes Chapman, Pure Hemp Caravaner