It was spring, 2005 and I was sitting in a coffeeshop in Amsterdam toking up some sinsemilla, while the TV on the wall played images of people mourning the death of Pope John Paul II. Maybe it was the dope, but I was profoundly melancholy, thinking that like so many before him, the Pope was a very spiritual, caring and well-meaning human being – who would leave a legacy of poverty, ignorance, and despair for his followers.