Hello and welcome back. If you’re new here, welcome to Can Intel 420. I’m Jerry and before we start, I want to be clear. What you’re about to hear is for educational andformational purposes only. We’re looking at how cannabis is grown, measured, and handled inside lawful regulated systems. Nothing here promotes, instructs, or encourages use. This is about understanding the plant through science, compliance, and a transparent process. Most conversations about cannabis stop at a number. That number, THC percentage, gets printed in bold, repeated in ads, and treated like truth. But a single value taken out of context isn’t truth. It’s shorthand. The goal of this documentary is to bring the context back. We’re going to examine cannabis as a living chemical system, not a scoreboard. Cannabonoids, turppins, enzymes, pigments, and trace minerals form a network that records every choice made by the grower and every condition the plant endured. When we talk about THC without the chemistry around it, we erase the plant structure and replace it with a sales pitch. The high THC equals highquality idea didn’t come from botonists. It grew out of early regulation and testing convenience. Labs could quantify total THC quickly and reproducibly. So, the number became the easiest way to satisfy reporting rules and calm a nervous marketplace. Once buyers chased that number, breeders selected for it. Labs leaned into it and shelves filled with products optimized for a metric instead of for complete chemistry. That’s how a diverse plant got reduced to a single digit. I know some people hear this and roll their eyes. Tarpen or marketing. It’s just weed. The skepticism exists for a reason. This space has been loud with hype. But the modern data don’t care about hype. Over the last few years, peer-reviewed work has mapped how cannabonoids share a common precursor, how enzyme pathways shift under light and temperature, and how tarpine families respond to stress and environment. Two samples with the same THC number can and often do show large differences in tarpine content and minor canabonoids. Those molecules are not garnish. They influence volatility, oxidation, stability, and how the resin holds together over time. That is measurable. That is repeatable. That is the plant telling the truth in its own language. So here’s what we’re doing. We’re going to read that language. We’ll follow synthesis from the mother canabonoid through the enzyme routes that create THCA, CBDA, and beyond. We’ll watch how light spectrum, air flow, water chemistry, and temperature redirect gene expression. We’ll slow down at harvest and see why drying, curing, oxygen control, and darkness decide whether the chemistry survives. will track the chain from farm to shelf and show how packaging and storage either protect or erase months of work. No mysticism, no lifestyle script, just the plant, the conditions, and the data that connect them. If a number on a label told the whole story, there would be nothing to learn. But the chemistry shows otherwise. The plant keeps a record of its life in molecules we can measure. Our job is to stop arguing with that record and start understanding it. When you look beyond the label and into the plant itself, everything starts to make sense. Cannabis doesn’t make THC or tarpen by accident. It builds them through deliberate chemical design. Inside every gland head, the tricom that catches the light, you have a living laboratory converting sunlight and minerals into complex hydrocarbons. These are cannabonoids, the compounds people talk about most, and tarpen, the ones you can smell long before you ever see the plant. They’re not separate forces. They’re partners in the same chain of synthesis. Each one depends on the other’s timing, environment, and the way the grower manages stress. Every canabonoid begins as a single molecular ancestor called canabidurolic acid. That one compound can become THCA, CBDA, or CBCA, depending on which enzyme turns the key. Those enzymes are written into the plant’s genetic code. But genes are not switches that stay fixed. They listen to the environment. Change the temperature, the mineral balance, or the length of the day. And the plant rewrites which genes it uses. That’s why two cutings from the same mother can produce different chemistry when grown under different conditions. The DNA is identical, but the environment changes which parts of the code come to life. Turppen form through another pathway that ties directly to how the plant defends itself. When ultraviolet light increases when wind stress or drought occur, when the soil biome shifts, the plant begins producing volatile compounds that act as shields and signals. Mercine, pine, lemonine. Each of them is a message to the environment saying, “I’m alive. I’m adapting.” What we smell as aroma is chemistry responding to circumstance. And those same compounds stabilize the canabonoids that form alongside them. The richer the tarpine profile, the stronger the chemical scaffolding that protects THC and CBD from oxidizing too quickly. This is why a cultivar grown under consistent balanced stress often tastes and stores better than one grown under forced sterile conditions. Controlled challenge builds resilience. Excess control builds fragility. The science backing this is no longer theory. Universities from Mississippi to Vogeningan to British Columbia have shown that light spectrum, air movement, nutrient conductivity, and root zone temperature can shift cannabonoid ratios by measurable margins. Red heavy light favors canabonoid acid production. Blue light intensifies monitor peen output and stable humidity reduces enzyatic degradation. None of this is random. It’s physics translated through biology. The plant reads energy, converts it to carbon chains, and the result becomes what people later call flavor, potency, or experience. What they’re really noticing is efficiency of conversion. This is why understanding synthesis matters. If you only measure THC, you miss the story of how the plant got there. You miss the conditions, the gene expression, the stress management, and the microbial partnerships in the soil that built that chemistry. Every bottle of nutrients, every change in air flow, every fluctuation in humidity is recorded at the molecular level. By the time harvest comes, the resin already carries its biography. When that biography shows balance, when cannabonoids and tarpen are proportionate, stable, and complete, you’re not looking at a strong plant. You’re looking at an honest one. Every part of the environment speaks to the plant. Light, air, water, and temperature are not background settings. They’re a conversation. And every shift in that dialogue leaves a signature in the resin. The difference between a farm that produces chemistry and a farm that produces biomass is how carefully that conversation is managed. Environmental precision is not about automation or gadgetry. It’s about control with awareness. The kind of consistency that allows chemistry to repeat itself without distortion. Light is the first language of this conversation. The plant doesn’t simply absorb it. It translates it into chemical instruction. The ratio of red to blue wavelengths, the length of each day, and the intensity of the photons all decide which genes activate in the tricoms. Blue heavy light pushes the plant to produce more defensive volatiles, thin, sharp tarpen like panine and lemonine, while red dominant light drives cannabonoid synthesis deeper into the resin glands. Even a 5% change in the spectral ratio can shift the balance of those pathways. When light cycles are steady and predictable, the plant’s chemistry stabilizes and its metabolism invests energy into cannabonoid and tarpine development instead of recovery from stress. When lighting fluctuates or canopy penetration is uneven, synthesis becomes inconsistent and the final profile reads like interrupted thought. Air and temperature shape everything that light begins. Every breath the plant takes carbon dioxide in, oxygen and water vapor out, depends on balanced air flow. Still air suffocates leaves. Turbulent air closes stamata. The difference between those extremes is the difference between a resin head filled with stable oils and one built under metabolic stress. Heat carries oxygen faster, speeds enzyme reactions, and dries surface tissue. Cool air slows metabolism but preserves volatiles. When temperature swings are narrow and consistent, enzyatic reactions complete cleanly and the plant stops wasting energy defending itself. When those swings widen, oxidation begins while the plant is still growing. You can see it in the tricoms clouded early, amber before their time, chemistry aging before it’s even harvested. Water carries the rhythm that connects all of this. It moves minerals, balances pH, and sets electrical conductivity in the root zone. If that rhythm falters, if salts accumulate or pressure drops, the entire synthesis chain collapses. Too much mineral load thickens the sap and starves the canopy. Too little leaves the plant soft and chemically diluted. Even the way water evaporates through the leaves dictates how cannabonoids form. A steady vapor pressure deficit keeps stammata open, metabolism flowing, and nutrient uptake balanced. Disruption, too dry, too humid, causes stress that rewrites gene expression and changes which enzymes remain active. It’s a subtle difference, but it decides whether a cultivar develops a full tarpine spectrum or a hollow one. Scale magnifies every detail. The larger the operation, the more delicate the balance becomes. A small grower can adjust by instinct, a shift in air flow, a light angle corrected by sight. In larger facilities, that intuition has to be replaced by data precision. Sensors measure temperature, humidity, carbon dioxide, and light at dozens of points across a room. Feeding systems that respond in seconds. Precision isn’t about removing the grower. It’s about translating instinct into numbers so that intuition can be repeated. When scale meets precision, the plant stops reacting to the environment and begins thriving within it. Each flower, no matter its location in the canopy, develops under the same conditions. That uniformity is not mechanical. It’s disciplined stewardship. A stable environment produces a stable resin. The cannabonoids remain in ratio. The turppen hold their volatility longer and oxidative markers stay low. When you test the product later, its chemistry reads like a controlled experiment instead of a lucky harvest. This is why environmental precision isn’t just an efficiency goal, it’s a moral one. It’s proof that the grower respected the plant enough to remove chaos from its surroundings. In a field that often celebrates yield and speed, precision is the quiet rebellion. It’s the refusal to treat chemistry as coincidence. Harvest is not an ending. It’s a chemical handoff. The moment the plant is cut, every system that kept it balanced begins to wind down. And what happens next decides whether the months of growth translate into stability or loss. Post-th harvest handling is the bridge between living metabolism and preserved chemistry. When it’s done with care, the plant’s compounds lock into equilibrium. When it’s rushed or careless, everything unravels, tarpen evaporate, canabonoids oxidize, and the plant forgets what it once was. Inside the first few hours after cutting, moisture migration begins. The plant is still respiring, still burning sugars for energy, even though it has been severed from its roots. This respiration consumes oxygen and releases carbon dioxide and water vapor, which now have nowhere to go. The cells that once managed pressure through stamata begin collapsing inward. If air around the harvest is too dry, the outer layers harden before the inner moisture can escape, creating a sealed barrier that traps humidity inside the stems. Inside that microclimate, microbial life continues feeding on residual sugars, generating heat and offging that accelerates decay. If the air is too humid, those same microbes spread across the surface instead, feeding openly on chlorophyll and amino acids. Either imbalance leads to the same result, aroma fades, cannabonoids degrade, and texture turns to waste. The key is controlled deceleration. Temperature and humidity must descend slowly together so that internal and external moisture remain in dialogue. Around 18 to 21° C with relative humidity balanced near 55% allows water molecules to move through the plant evenly. The process can take a week or more depending on density, but haste is chemical sabotage. Every 10 degrees of additional heat doubles the rate of oxidation. Every percent drop in relative humidity increases volatility. The longer those conditions remain stable, the more gracefully the plant’s metabolism quiets itself. You can think of drying not as removing water, but as teaching the chemistry how to rest. Even after the moisture levels reach equilibrium, the chemistry isn’t still. Enzymes continue breaking down chlorophyll remnants and converting unstable aldahhides into neutral compounds. This is where curing begins, a continuation of that controlled rest. When the dried flower is sealed, residual gases like carbon dioxide accumulate, slightly altering internal pH. The slow venting of this gas, often called burping, isn’t ritual, it’s physics. It prevents acid buildup that can destabilize cannabonoid acids and ensures that volatiles reabsorb into the plant tissue instead of condensing on container walls. Storage is the final test. Tarpen are volatile hydrocarbons. They don’t stay loyal under heat, light, or oxygen. They evaporate, react, and rearrange. THC itself oxidizes into CBN through exposure to air and time. A predictable chain that can be slowed but never reversed. The only real protection is reduction of energy input. Keep it cool, keep it dark, keep it sealed. Temperatures between 10 and 15° C, total darkness, and controlled humidity between 58 and 62% slow the entire degradation cycle to a crawl. Each percentage of oxygen you can remove from the container extends chemical stability by days or even weeks. Nitrogen flushing or vacuum sealing isn’t industry affectation. It’s thermodynamic defense. When storage is careless, chemistry tells on you. The bright aroma turns flat. The tricoms lose their clarity and the test results drift from their original numbers. When storage is disciplined, the opposite happens. The scent remains vivid. The resin maintains its glassy sheen and the ratios of canabonoids and tarpen remain consistent months after harvest. That consistency isn’t luck. It’s the proof of scientific handling. The difference between a cultivator and a caretaker is found here in the quiet months when nothing appears to be happening but chemistry is still whispering under the lid. Post-th harvest handling and storage are where truth meets time. The plant records every decision you made during its life. And after harvest, those records can’t be rewritten. They can only be preserved or destroyed. The grower who understands this knows that the work doesn’t stop when the scissors close. It stops when the chemistry stops changing. Until then, the plant is still alive in memory. And it’s the grower’s duty to make sure that memory stays intact. By the time cannabis reaches a dispensary shelf, it has already lived through an entire chemical biography. From its earliest enzyme reactions to the final stages of curing, every condition has left its mark. What stands before the consumer in a jar or package is not a mystery. It’s evidence. The question then becomes not only how it was grown, but how faithfully that evidence has been protected from farm to sale. This is where dispensary integrity comes in because chemistry doesn’t stop changing once it leaves the cultivator’s hands. It keeps reacting to air, temperature, light, and time. And the role of the retailer is to protect those variables as carefully as the grower once did. When product enters the value chain, it passes through checkpoints meant to stabilize quality, trimming, packaging, transport, and storage. Each of those steps can either preserve or dismantle the chemistry built over months of cultivation. The trimming room determines how much surface area remains exposed. Packaging controls the rate of oxygen and moisture exchange. Transport decides temperature stability. And the dispensary’s own climate dictates whether the tarpen that define a cultivar survive long enough to be recognized. Every unregulated hour in a warm van or bright store room translates directly to measurable degradation. Tarpen oxidize into compounds like simony and tarpineol. Cannabonoids begin breaking down into cannabonol and within weeks a jar can lose the sharp definition it once carried. The integrity of a dispensary begins with its handling standards. Proper storage is not a formality. It is compliance with chemistry itself. Cool temperatures around 60° F, stable humidity, and absolute darkness maintain product consistency better than any marketing campaign. Clear glass under fluorescent lights, the most common retail setup, is a slow motion destruction chamber. The energy from those lights, even at low intensity, excites the aromatic hydrocarbons that carry flavor and scent. What once smelled bright becomes flat, and what once tested true begins to drift. The loss doesn’t appear immediately. It hides behind packaging until the consumer opens it and finds the soul of the plant gone. That failure is not the cultivators alone. It’s a shared breach of responsibility between everyone who touched the product on its way to the shelf. This is why traceability matters. Every batch should read like a map of stewardship. Who grew it, how it was processed, how it was transported, and under what conditions it’s now displayed. Retailers who maintain climate control, limit light exposure, and rotate inventory based on harvest date rather than volume prove they understand that selling cannabis is not about moving product. It’s about preserving data integrity. Each label, each test result is a snapshot in time that must remain accurate until the point of purchase. When dispensaries ignore that, when storage temperatures fluctuate or stock lingers past its chemical half-life, those numbers become fiction. And fiction in a regulated marketplace is failure. Consumer trust is built the same way chemistry is through consistency. When a dispensary keeps its storage stable, maintains transparent sourcing, and educates its staff about the relationship between environmental control and chemical preservation. Customers notice they may not speak in the language of volatility or oxidative pathways, but they recognize aroma, texture, and freshness. They know when something feels alive and when it doesn’t. The dispensary that respects that sensory truth becomes a translator between science and public experience. It turns compliance into culture. But integrity doesn’t stop at the shelf. It continues through how staff communicate what they’re selling. Education should never drift into advice or promise. It should stay grounded in verifiable fact. The compliant conversation sounds like this. This product was grown under controlled light spectrum, harvested with care, and stored to preserve its natural tarpine profile. That’s information. It’s legal, factual, and it empowers the consumer to make choices based on chemistry rather than advertising. Anything beyond that, claims about effects or experiences, crosses from science into speculation. A dispensary that understands this distinction not only protects its license but elevates the entire market’s credibility. When all of this works, the cultivation, the posth harvest care, the transport, and the retail discipline, the final product in a consumer’s hand is still connected to its origin. The aroma remains true to its genetics. The texture mirrors the curing environment and the cannabonoid profile holds within its tested range. That is full chain integrity, a closed loop where every participant respects both the plant and the data. The value chain then becomes exactly what its name suggests, a chain of value preserved, not diminished, by each link that holds it. And this is what separates a dispensary that simply sells cannabis from one that represents it. The first moves units, the second maintains lineage. In a maturing industry where trust has to be rebuilt molecule by molecule, that difference is everything. The idea that strength can only be measured by a number has kept consumers blind for years. The industry taught people to equate percentage with power, to look at a label the way someone might read an octane rating or proof on a bottle. But cannabis doesn’t work that way because its chemistry isn’t linear. A lower THC cultivar with balanced secondary cannabonoids and a complete tarpine profile can produce a richer, steadier expression than a product bred and harvested for sheer potency. Once you understand how the chemistry interacts, that truth becomes obvious. You stop chasing a number and start recognizing composition. For the informed consumer, a label listing 14 or 16% THC is not a warning sign. It’s a question mark waiting for context. The first thing to look for is balance. The ratio of major canabonoids, the diversity of tarpen, and the freshness of those compounds. A well-grown low THC cultivar often carries a tarpin concentration two or three times higher than a high THC counterpart that was rushed through production. Those tarpen are volatile hydrocarbons that shape both aroma and biochemical tone. They determine how the cannabonoids volatilize under heat and how quickly they oxidize in air. When tarpine ratios are complete, when you see lemonine sitting beside karaopalene, merceni, and humuline in significant proportions, you’re looking at chemistry that was allowed to mature naturally. That maturity translates to consistency of profile, not intoxication intensity. The second marker of quality is environmental signature. Every cultivar grown with precision carries a fingerprint of the farm that produced it. light spectrum, air movement, humidity rhythm, and soil microbiology each leave measurable traces in the final chemistry. When you see a brand or farm known for stability, one that publishes environmental metrics or third party lab results that include tarpine breakdowns, you’re looking at an operation that values integrity over spectacle. That’s the kind of producer an informed consumer seeks out because it means the numbers on the label reflect truth rather than theater. Understanding low THC cannabis also means understanding preservation. Cannabonoid degradation happens regardless of initial potency. A 30% flour stored under poor conditions can degrade to the chemical equivalent of a 12% sample within weeks. While a wellpreserved 15% cultivar can hold its profile almost unchanged over months, the experience derived from the latter is not milder. It’s cleaner because the volatile components remain intact. That clarity of chemistry often translates to clarity of outcome. Consumers who pay attention to aroma, texture, and the way tricoms refract light will notice that preserved products feel alive while poorly stored ones feel inert. The difference is in how much of the original chemistry still exists in functional form. For dispensaries and consumers operating within regulated markets, the safest and most compliant way to evaluate low THC products is through documentation and sensory data, not speculation. Read certificates of analysis. Note the presence of canabonoids beyond THC, CBG, CBC, and CBDA. Pay attention to the total tarpine percentage. observe packaging date, storage conditions, and how transparent the brand is about its process. These are indicators of chemical stewardship. None of them promise a personal result, and that’s exactly the point. They speak to integrity, not to effect. Informed consumers learn to read chemistry instead of marketing. They recognize that a balanced profile can deliver complexity where raw potency delivers monotone. They know that lower THC cultivars often reveal the plant’s actual flavor architecture because the tarpine compounds responsible for aroma aren’t drowned out by excess cannabonoid saturation. What these consumers discover is that quality in cannabis, like quality in wine or coffee, lives in composition, not concentration. Understanding low THC cannabis is about recognizing completeness. It’s about realizing that the most honest expression of the plant isn’t the loudest or the strongest. It’s the one that survived the process intact. When you look at it through that lens, you stop being a customer in search of a number and become a reader of chemistry, fluent in what the plant has been saying the whole time. The deeper you go into the science of this plant, the clearer it becomes that cannabis has never been the problem. Our understanding of it has for decades. policy, culture, and commerce built a wall between public perception and biological truth. THC became the shorthand for everything people didn’t have time to explain. Now, as research expands and the market matures, that wall is cracking. And what stands behind it isn’t mysticism or myth. It’s chemistry. What we’ve been calling effects or flavor or quality are measurable phenomena governed by enzyatic reactions, environmental precision and chemical preservation. The plant is not mysterious. It’s intricate. It obeys the same physical laws as every other living thing. The difference is that until recently, nobody wanted to read the fine print. That fine print is where the future of cannabis education begins. For the first time, cultivators, scientists, and consumers have access to a shared vocabulary, a way to discuss this plant using data instead of slogans. Understanding light spectrum, air exchange, water chemistry, and nutrient balance is not just agricultural literacy. It’s ethical literacy. It teaches respect for process, accountability for outcomes, and an appreciation that what people call experience is the final stage of a chemical dialogue that started months before harvest. Education closes the distance between grower and consumer. It removes the myths that separate the two and replaces them with comprehension. Integrity in this space means something very specific. It’s not a brand posture or a marketing claim. It’s the ability to trace cause and effect from seed to sale without distortion. When a cultivator designs an environment that reflects natural balance rather than artificial yield, when a processor treats resin as a fragile chemistry instead of a commodity. And when a dispensary protects that chemistry with proper storage and transparency, integrity becomes quantifiable. It shows up in test results, shelf life, and consistency. That kind of integrity transforms an industry that was once built on secrecy into one built on reproducibility. The future of cannabis depends on that reproducibility, on the ability to prove that quality isn’t subjective, that it’s measurable, teachable, and repeatable. This is where education replaces marketing. Instead of teaching consumers to chase potency, education shows them how to identify preservation. It explains why a cultivar grown under balanced stress develops fuller chemistry, why tarpen act as both scent and structure, and why every stage from drying to display either protects or dismantles that structure. Once people learn to see cannabis as chemistry, they stop speaking in absolutes. They begin talking in ratios, variables, and systems. That shift is how industries mature. When the public can read the science for themselves and demand authenticity instead of spectacle, the future of cannabis education will belong to those who can bridge two worlds, the empirical and the cultural. The science must be accessible without being diluted and the culture must remain grounded without falling into myth. When these meet, cannabis stops being treated like a novelty and starts being treated like the agricultural and biochemical field it is. Every cultivator becomes part scientist, every retailer part archivist, every consumer part student. That collective understanding forms the backbone of legitimacy, the kind that outlives marketing trends and survives regulation changes. What we’re really talking about here isn’t just cannabis. It’s a model for how truth moves through a system. When chemistry leads the conversation, misinformation dies quietly. When data guides process, trust rebuilds itself. The plant doesn’t need defenders. It needs translators. People willing to speak in the language of evidence rather than enthusiasm. Education is how that translation happens. It’s the bridge between the farm, the lab, and the consumer. It’s how integrity becomes infrastructure. The future of cannabis isn’t written in strain names or THC percentages. It’s written in the way we teach it. The plant has already done its part. It recorded everything in molecules. Now it’s on us to read them clearly, share them honestly, and make sure that the next generation inherits a field built on science, not superstition. That’s the closing equation. Chemistry plus integrity equals permanence. Everything else fades. Hello again, and thank you for staying with me through this entire journey. Before we close, I want to return to where we started, to the reason this series exists, and to the purpose behind every word. What you’ve heard here is not advice, not encouragement, and not instruction for use. It’s education. Everything shared in this documentary is intended strictly forformational and scientific understanding within lawful regulated frameworks. Nothing in this presentation should be interpreted as medical guidance or as endorsement of cultivation or consumption. This is about literacy, about giving you the ability to understand the chemistry, the systems, and the ethics that define legitimate cannabis production in compliance with local, state, and federal law. From the start, this project has never been about glamour or potency. It’s about truth. It’s about translating years of overlooked data into language that anyone can understand. It’s about honoring the plant without romanticizing it, respecting the science without sterilizing it, and showing that nature and knowledge were never supposed to be on opposite sides of the conversation. When you learn how cannabonoids form, when you understand what tarpen actually do, when you see how storage and handling shape everything from aroma to longevity, you begin to see the plant differently. It stops being a symbol and starts being a system, alive, complex, and precise. The message I hope lingers isn’t that cannabis is miraculous or misunderstood, but that it’s measurable. Every aroma you’ve ever noticed, every texture, every difference between one cultivar and another can be traced to environmental management, genetic expression, and molecular preservation. What we call quality is the intersection of those three things: biology, environment, and integrity. If any one of them is missing, the whole structure falls apart. But when they align, when each step from seed to sale reflects care and accountability, the result is chemistry in its purest form, balanced, consistent, and honest. This documentary is a thank you to the growers who still treat cultivation as a craft, to the scientists who continue proving that the plant is more intricate than politics ever allowed it to be, and to the consumers who care enough to ask questions instead of chasing trends. You are the ones keeping this field real. Every time you choose knowledge over noise, you preserve what matters most, the integrity of the story. The truth is the plant never needed defending. It needed translation. And that’s what Canondel 420 was built for. To speak plainly, to show the data, to break down the language of the plant so it can stand on evidence, not belief. Because belief changes with culture, but data endures. So, as we end this series, remember the principle that has guided every page. Chemistry doesn’t lie. It records everything. How the light fell, how the air moved, how patient the grower was. The science tells the truth, even when the market doesn’t. And that’s where integrity lives in the space between what’s easy to sell and what’s true to measure. If there’s one takeaway from all of this, it’s that the plant doesn’t need to be exaggerated to be extraordinary. It only needs to be understood. When we choose evidence over assumption when we teach instead of repeat and when we protect the integrity of what’s real, the culture changes from the inside out. That’s how the future of cannabis will be written. Not in trends, not in numbers, but in comprehension. Thank you for being part of that change. My name is Jerry. This is Canada Intel 420 and this has been the science of low THC cannabis breaking the potency myth. Stay informed, stay compliant, and above all, stay grounded in truth. This program was created for educational andformational purposes only. It does not instruct or promote the cultivation, sale, possession, or use of cannabis in any form. All references to cultivation or chemistry are presented within the context of lawful regulated research in agricultural science. Viewers are advised to follow all applicable local, state, tribal, and federal laws regarding cannabis.
Video Tags: #CannabisEducation,#LowTHC,#CannabisScience,#CannabisResearch,#EducationalDocumentary,#BreakingTheMyth
Video Duration: 00:37:34
