- published: 04 Sep 2015
- views: 262518
Cocaine paste, also known as coca paste, paco, pasta base or basuco in South America, short for pasta de cocaína (cocaine paste) or pasta base de cocaína (PBC, cocaine base paste), is a collective name given to several different cocaine products. Cocaine paste includes crude intermediate stages of the cocaine preparation process and their freebase forms as well as "crack cocaine" prepared from pure cocaine hydrochloride. Crude Cocaine was first precipitated by Peruvian pharmacist Alfredo Bignon in 1885. He presented his findings at the Academia Libre de Medicina de Lima, where a distinguished panel of Peruvian doctors and chemists judged his innovation in a ten-page official report. Using simple precipitation methods and local ingredients — fresh-grown Andean coca leaf, kerosene, soda ash — he was able to produce a chemically active "crude" cocaine in "an easy and economic preparation in the same place as coca cultivation" at home in Peru.
Crude cocaine preparation intermediates are marketed as cheaper alternatives to pure cocaine to local markets while the more expensive end product is exported to US and European markets. Freebase cocaine paste preparations can be smoked. The psychological and physiological effects of the paco are quite severe. Media usually report that it is extremely toxic and addictive. According to a study by Intercambios, media appear to exaggerate the effects of paco. These stereotypes create a sense that nothing can be done to help a paco addict and thus stands in the way of rehabilitation programs.
Well I met the man who killed my mother
He put holes inside her arms
No they were not marks of stigmata lord
Just a drug pumping empty heart
Well I met the man who took my father
Put him in jail and locked him away
Well they say he forgot his children lord
He might remember us again someday
I blame the devil
Well I met the man who killed my grandmother
He took her mind as the shotgun blew
A year later my grandfather followed her
He’d had enough and shot himself too
Well I met the man who took my good friend
Oh, but he was only seventeen
I saw him laying in a cushioned coffin lord
It wasn’t him staring back at me
I blame the devil, what else could it be
I blame Jesus he ain't answering me
Don’t call me depressed, don’t call me sad
I’m giving up on this life I had
Well I met the man who raped my childhood
Oh well we were never young it’s true
But when everyone around you keeps dying lord
What the hell are we supposed to do
Well I met the man who took my sister
In a new family she will stay
And it’s true that my mother’s a sinner lord
She let another family fade away
I blame the devil, what else could it be
I blame Jesus he ain't answering me
Don’t call me depressed, don’t call me sad