Where ‘Transparency’ Means ‘We Livestreamed the Grift’
FRANKFORT, KY — If you recently lost out on a Kentucky medical cannabis license, don’t worry—you weren’t rejected because your application was bad. You were rejected because your name wasn’t already printed on the damn envelope.
In a historic moment for bad governance, the Kentucky Office of Medical Cannabis (OMC) launched a licensing process so sloppily rigged it could’ve been produced by Fyre Festival. They called it a “randomized, transparent lottery”, but what it really boiled down to was a bureaucratic ass-covering speedrun through a predetermined outcome. If the goal was to alienate every legacy grower, small business, and would-be equity applicant in the state, then congratulations—bullseye.
Let’s Call It What It Was: A Public Execution in Business Casual
The lottery was live-streamed like a dystopian gameshow, complete with frozen Zoom faces, legally mandated awkward pauses, and the slow-motion collapse of local economic hope. Out-of-state corporations—who apparently found the application process less intimidating than a Starbucks order—swept the winnings. Meanwhile, Kentuckians who spent months (and tens of thousands of dollars) playing compliance whack-a-mole got sent packing with a polite “better luck next multi-million-dollar investment.”
And the cherry on top? The state charged these folks up to $30,000 just to enter this clown raffle. For that price, you didn’t get a license—you got to watch your dreams die in 1080p.
Enter the Auditor: Allison Ball, Torchbearer of Common Sense
Kentucky State Auditor Allison Ball has officially opened an investigation into what the OMC is still calling “a fair and impartial process,” which is adorable. Ball said what everyone’s been screaming into their steering wheels since March: This was a fucking slap in the face. And not the kind you learn from—it’s the kind that leaves a bruise shaped like the Chamber of Commerce.
The OMC has been suspiciously tight-lipped since the audit dropped, possibly because they're busy trying to figure out how to say “we fucked up” in a way that doesn’t expose how deeply the fuckery runs.
Governor Beshear’s Office: Nothing to See Here, Move Along
Team Beshear responded like a group of substitute teachers caught stealing from the vending machine: defensive, flustered, and deeply confused by the outrage.
Press Secretary Crystal Staley issued a lukewarm statement touting “transparency” and “equity,” while carefully sidestepping the reality that 90% of these licenses landed with people whose closest connection to Kentucky is flying over it en route to Aspen. The governor’s team seems to think as long as the backroom deal is filmed, it becomes democracy. Spoiler: it doesn’t.
This is what happens when policy is designed with buzzwords, not backbones.
And Where’s the Equity? Oh Right—Under That Pile of NDA Paperwork
The state threw the term “social equity” around like rice at a shotgun wedding, but not one person can point to where it actually landed. No set-asides, no protected categories, no acknowledgement of the fact that legacy operators in Kentucky risked their freedom for decades to build this industry—only to now be told they’re not “sophisticated” enough to play.
Translation: if you built your grow with a socket wrench and street grit, you’re out. If you’ve got a buddy on a state advisory board and a full-time grant writer, step right up.
What Now? Kentucky's Cannabis Future Is a Strip-Mall Joke
This should’ve been the dawn of a legitimate cannabis economy for Kentucky—a chance to repair the damage of prohibition, reinvest in the people who kept the culture alive, and build a model that worked for Main Street instead of Wall Street. Instead, we got a grift wrapped in paperwork, dipped in shame, and delivered by UPS with “No Return Address.”
Let’s be clear: this wasn’t just an oversight. This was policy designed to fail the right people—the ones who didn’t already have a lawyer on retainer and a shell company ready to roll. It’s exclusion by bureaucracy. And if you're still sitting on the sidelines thinking “maybe next time,” just know: next time already has a contract.
Boof du Jour Rating: Zero Buds for Bullshit This wasn’t a licensing round—it was a glorified land grab dressed up in state seals and legalese. And it needs to be burned to the fucking ground before another dime is handed out to the same five companies who "just so happened" to win a game they wrote the rules for.
Stay tuned—we’re not done with Kentucky. Not by a long shot.
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