Published in the 4/22 edition of La Vie (Lebanon Valley College's weekly rag). I wrote the case for cannabis, the perspectives editor wrote the case against. Yes, I schooled her. I schooled her good.
***
There is no other way to say it: marijuana prohibition is the dumbest, most harmful thing America has ever done to its citizens. It is the culmination of American legislative stupidity - placing the welfare and pocketbooks of every taxpaying citizen in jeopardy.
To legalize or not to legalize is not even a question. The defense for prohibition formulated in the 30s has been debunked by the magic of science and mathematics. Crazed reefer addicts aren’t cruising our streets looking for helpless virgins to rape. Drugs sold by Pfizer wreak more havoc on the brain than the finest Moroccan hashish.
It is time for America to face the music: the slew of prohibition laws are stupid. There is no shame in admitting to the mistake; oversight happens all the time and people make stupid mistakes everyday. Now it is high time for the mistake of marijuana prohibition to be corrected. Are these swine going to acknowledge the harsh truth that they were, and still are wrong?
Ah, the truth. A rare and dangerous commodity in this day and age. The truth of the $150 billion we spend per year on enforcement and court costs, with 50% of arrests being marijuana related. Or the truth of the $68 billion per year we spend on prisons, with 33% of those in jail there on marijuana charges.
No, President Obama, perhaps legalizing marijuana won’t help us “grow our economy”. Maybe it would save us, the taxpayers, the billions we lose annually on this waste of a war. Maybe it would help trim the profit margins of the Mexican drug cartels that make $25 billion every year off of American drug habits. On that note, if drugs were legalized, would there be violent drug dealers at all?
This isn’t just about the Mike Phelps and Andy Goetz’s of the world anymore. Marijuana legalization is no longer a case of “fight the power, man.” Our economy is hurting, and while legalization marijuana wouldn’t be a cure-all it would certainly be a boon. Mexico is burning, and the reason why there are violent drug dealers is because America created drug laws. Prohibition has created more problems for the US and the world, in terms of money as well as quality of life, than will ever be worth it.
***
I think I could have done better, but I'm happy with what I had. With a 400 word count limit, I couldn't lay down as much as I would have liked, but I think I got the point across.
- Rev.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
More Empty Promises
Updates coming soon! I promise. Its sort of a "yes, but not now" type of thing.
The harsh rigors and realities of Academia leave me disheartened and drained, so writing has been a challenge. LVC... W.T.F.?
I'm on Twitter now, bt-dubs. RevGonzo19. Check it out. There was a time when I would have considered this selling out, but I'm realizing I was born on the cusp of a generational gap that I have to bridge if I want success.
Too young to be a proper journalist, too old to have been raised on this Web 2.0 carp. I remember a time when there was no Internet in my home. We had to beat each other with sticks for fun.
Anyway, here's an excerpt from a blog I did for PennLive.com that didn't get published. (The Friday Post was published.)
***
To make matters more interesting, there was a nice drunk lady named Barb sitting next to me during the set and we struck up some conversation.
“This is the happiest Ring of Fire I’ve ever heard,” said Barb. “Do you come here often?”
“Zounds,” I thought to myself. “It’s only eight o’clock and she’s already a sheet or two to the wind.”
“Oh sh*t!,” she exclaimed, nearly falling out her seat. “Could you just forget I said that?”
This was getting weird. But she seemed to be having a good time, and I didn’t want to ruin it for her. It was a good thing I’d only had one drink, otherwise the urge to burst out laughing would have won out over my better judgement.
“Oh no,” I said, smiling back at her. “I’m flattered, really. So what do you think of his cover of Bob Dylan...”
She mumbled something unintelligible and made for the bathroom. I signaled the bartender, held up three fingers, and said “whiskey, rocks.” Thank god for Kentucky’s finest.
It was my original intention to interview Stu Huggens after his set, but things were about to kick off at the Chameleon, and the scene was getting too weird for my young blood. I had stepped outside for a cigarette and when I returned my seat next to Barb was taken. It looked like some yuppie scum looking for a quick lay, and who was I to stop him? Huggens was also playing his rendition of Snow Patrol’s Chasing Cars. It was all a blaring message that it was time to go...
***
And that's all folks.
- Rev.
The harsh rigors and realities of Academia leave me disheartened and drained, so writing has been a challenge. LVC... W.T.F.?
I'm on Twitter now, bt-dubs. RevGonzo19. Check it out. There was a time when I would have considered this selling out, but I'm realizing I was born on the cusp of a generational gap that I have to bridge if I want success.
Too young to be a proper journalist, too old to have been raised on this Web 2.0 carp. I remember a time when there was no Internet in my home. We had to beat each other with sticks for fun.
Anyway, here's an excerpt from a blog I did for PennLive.com that didn't get published. (The Friday Post was published.)
***
To make matters more interesting, there was a nice drunk lady named Barb sitting next to me during the set and we struck up some conversation.
“This is the happiest Ring of Fire I’ve ever heard,” said Barb. “Do you come here often?”
“Zounds,” I thought to myself. “It’s only eight o’clock and she’s already a sheet or two to the wind.”
“Oh sh*t!,” she exclaimed, nearly falling out her seat. “Could you just forget I said that?”
This was getting weird. But she seemed to be having a good time, and I didn’t want to ruin it for her. It was a good thing I’d only had one drink, otherwise the urge to burst out laughing would have won out over my better judgement.
“Oh no,” I said, smiling back at her. “I’m flattered, really. So what do you think of his cover of Bob Dylan...”
She mumbled something unintelligible and made for the bathroom. I signaled the bartender, held up three fingers, and said “whiskey, rocks.” Thank god for Kentucky’s finest.
It was my original intention to interview Stu Huggens after his set, but things were about to kick off at the Chameleon, and the scene was getting too weird for my young blood. I had stepped outside for a cigarette and when I returned my seat next to Barb was taken. It looked like some yuppie scum looking for a quick lay, and who was I to stop him? Huggens was also playing his rendition of Snow Patrol’s Chasing Cars. It was all a blaring message that it was time to go...
***
And that's all folks.
- Rev.
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