If this is the author's and director's idea of a slice of life, they are clinically manic depressives. A sad, moody film at best, with ubiquitously aimless and unhappy characters who negatively interact with disastrous results. This film is billed as a comedy. What was so funny about losing your home to an allegedly premeditated arson or the drug induced, forcible rape of one of the main characters. Is this art imitating life? Jack Black was mildly amusing as the mountain man, weed farmer. However, even this segment of the film was rife with pathos. What was the point of living in the middle of nowhere with an entourage. If Black's character was so paranoid, why was he doing acid with a group of people right out of Woodstock? Is there no end to disconnected relationships, a plot less script, and scene transitions lacking any cohesiveness or logical chronology.