Marc Emery: marijuana activist, pot-seed magnate, lady's man, publisher, and self-proclaimed Man Of Destiny. He was on tour at McGill last week, rallying support against his impending extradition to the U.S. When I requested an interview and he suggested breakfast, I knew that I was fated to break bread with every stoner's hero as part of the ultimate prearranged harmony of the cosmos. I suggested Place Milton.

I arrived, heart racing and palms soaking wet, and Marc Emery was already there. I nervously reached for his hand, but the Prince surprised me and went in for a kiss instead, assuring me that I had truly beautiful eyes. Our connection was immediate and deeply profound.

I listened raptly as he ran off about 300 words a minute for a solid two hours. In that time, he said a lot about politics and the United States of America, but he also said a lot about Marc Emery, and, over eggs and toast, I learned that Marc Emery isn't just a Man Of Destiny - he's also a man.

Marc Emery handed me an arm-full of magazines featuring his life's struggle, which took him from London, Ontario all the way to Vancouver, B.C. Two of his employees also face extradition, and it was obvious he was more worried about them than about himself. Actually, he cares deeply about all his employees, and spoke passionately about the ins and outs of maintaining a healthy and productive workplace.

"The ratio of women to men is usually 50-50. "I have lots of women working for me, but I found that when I was in jail, it was disaster: They all fought with each other. Women don't want to work for other women, typically, and secondly, they are gossipy," he explained.

Actually, I was a little surprised that Marc Emery employs women: The Prince has seen more than one friend land in jail because he displeased his girlfriend at that time of the month; according to Marc, 90 per cent of growers are in jail because their girlfriends hysterically called 911 on them.

"Guys get paid all at once, and they tend to binge - they binge drink, binge splurge, or binge hire a prostitute. And, three or four days of every month, women are incredibly emotional, and prone to hysterical behaviour," he explained.

"When women are vindictive - and they will be - then they do something that will really fuck you up," he exclaimed. "I always say 80 per cent of all detective work is waiting for the girlfriend to call."

He would know. Marc Emery has been living with some wife or girlfriend or another for the past 30 years, and, though he admits he has never managed to stay faithful, he laughingly joked that they always think that they can reform him. He suggested that it was due to the threatening appeal of his title, similar to "the Prince of Darkness."

Marc described the typical domestic dispute, and said that most growers wouldn't go to jail if they could control their booze or just stay away from women.

"These guys didn't have that edit button that says, 'Fuck it man, I'm just out of here,' then they did that final smack! Hack! Punch! - and then they land in jail," he said, shaking his head.

Pointing to phenomena like snitching as a basic police tactic, he drew terrifying parallels between the oppression of potheads in Canada and the treatment of Jews in Nazi Germany, eloquently referring to tokers as the "the most picked-on, brutalized, and persecuted group of people on the planet."

I missed class listening attentively to the Prince, who spoke with such passion that he never ate his breakfast. Instead, he playfully stole my orange and touched my leg to emphasize his insightful points, like the fact that, since pot spreads less disease and kills fewer people than homosexuality, it should also be legal.

By the time we walked back to campus, I was putty in his hands. "If you're not going to class, I'd really love to hang out with you," he told me.

It's usually pretty clear that, whoever is running the show, they're making a mess of everything: They arrest your friends, evict your Sexual Assault Center, and kick cuddly animals at every opportunity. But just when it's certain the world is going to shit, Marc Emery restores your faith and reminds you that ultimately everything is under control. "I don't worry about me because I feel I'm a person of destiny," he had told me earlier And now he wants to "hang out."

Faith in fate restored, I told him we could head back to my office, if he wanted