And why telling us to say NO just made some want to say Yes LOUDER
a spleen-fest about drugs and those who love them
and those who separate people from drugs they love,
and then ask for a medal. MAY NOT MAKE PERFECT SENSE. THIS IS NOT ENTIRELY "LINEAR". Skip if you prefer your blogging to be perfectly, 100 percent cohesive and coherent.
Special guests include:
- Mr. John Walters, our Drug "Czar" who speaks no Russian
- William Bennett's Bookie
(in absentia loco moralis)
- and the ghost of Harry Anslinger
(in presentia extremis profundo)
(hovering illishly above America and its damn'd "New Century"
In which We Beg God - or Whatever! - to Help Us Rewrite the Script
Or at least stop selling people so many Tickets.
Street scene in contemporary America, circa two-thousand and four, or twenty-oh four, or just Oh Four, but everyone'll say "two thousand" until the end of the decade anyway, since they were exposed to that movie called "Two
Thousand One" all their lives. A fact of minor importance, but which has zeitgeist-centric symbolic significance as creatures who'll eat our own brains if some movie does it first.
This is that movie. It's in your head. Just like mine, because for the next arbitrary discrete chunk of time, they're becoming the same movie, which is a condition that can't survive your conscious awareness of it while it's
happening which, when it finally comes, will make it revert to just feeling like it's just YOUR MOVIE again. This is sort of like copy protection but not the same at all. All you need to think about is that you shouldn't be thinking at
all if you want to be experiencing, and verse-vicea. They have nice people who'll do that nasty thinking stuff FOR YOU now, haven't you heard?
Your eyes feel like slivers of iron being pulled by magnets and then BAM! In front of you: something that wants their looking. A red, luminescent twirlage of curled neon. If it were a snake it would have...just sat there being
decorative, since real snakes don't glow and you didn't take acid this morning, because someone took it away from you forever.
The signwork that says: OUT TO LUNCH
It's in the window of a shop which is actually a theater, which is NOT "for madmen only" even though it admits that admission costs exactly one mind, YOURS; it's for sane folk who wish to become madmen, and that's an even weirder
magic place that isn't even called a theater because you AREN'T SUPPOSED TO WANT to GO THERE AND LOOK and if anyone knew how much certain people paid to try to stop this from happening your heart would flatline.
Scuttlebutt has it that this sign is hanging on someone's forehead--someone who can do miracles like stop time at will or make boring things exciting and exciting ones boring, but no-one pays it much heed. Whosoever has the
forehead it hangs on denies up, down, sideways, and backwardsly that you EVER saw it there and could, if desired, do so until the time comes where you believe it yourself. Such is the life we live, where repetition of fiction makes
fact grow like crystals in waterglasses for anyone who cares to look, and the fact will then get laid into a future fiction, and by so doing influence yet another cycle of fact.
Fact is something that exactly the right two or three people
can make be so by merely agreeing to such a distinction for it, by saying Yes, this is true, is it not, and nodding. Once fact crystallizes from its fluidic vehicle of fictions it will be laid by skilled stonecutters into yet another fiction that
you think is a building, or a car, or a jet plane...and then it will sprout all sorts of seeds that either become new factoids or else get used by them for food.
"Your Attention, Worth Its Weight In Time, which You Know Wel Since You Yourself Paid It."
We all got to make sure the realities get as much attention-food as the fictions do or we're fucked six ways from Sunday, plus seven more from the worst Monday morning of your life.
She, the alleged owner of the brain so appropriately en-signed - in snaky red tubes of glass filled with glowing gas yet! Where is she while her brain is off lunching somewhere? Why, she's out with it, naturally! The menu
has one thing only, the Daily Special, which happened to be really special on this day. She's eating it - EATING HER BRAIN - for what else be more fit for Her Own Divine Lunch? My, what a feast of neurons and the sumptuous
savory juices thereof, see how they're all crispy-fried... JUUUUST the WAY SHE LIKES 'EM to be.
All tender and gooey in their divine juices, and just waiting for its own owner to take a bite.
OBLIGATORY "WARNING NOTICE" - The above is an "extended metaphor", a literary device of comparison. Persons of low intelligence and/or high idiocy suggestibility threshholds may wish to LOOK THE OTHER
DAMN WAY, or at least deliberately fail to take any of this rant too seriously, if they don't wish to be exposed to extended metaphors about drugs which people take just because they LIKE their effects - which is the thesis-
statement this all rests on, even if it's all teetering and listing off to one side.
ANOTHER DUMBASS "WARNING NOTICE": You are STANDING IN CLOSE PROXIMITY to a merciless metaphoric who might suggest she is doing THINGS to herself that might be troubling to you, because things like this
do not happen in television, and television is all that most people's jobs leave them enough energy to comprehend most of the time. Yes, you find yourself 1000 miles from the nearest exit to TV Land. Get over it.
WARMING NOTICE - Damn it's cold tonight. Time to wrap self in blankets and unmentionables, which have a lot in common: they're purposed for feeling good and not really much else - and each do a fine job of letting me do this
unabated. I don't just like my drugs, I worship the damn things with oodles of agape looooooove. Plus, some of them I even "respect in the morning".
The way some "medical experts" talk about chemicals that make one feel good, as if that quality alone has no perceivable "medical value", is astoundingly absurd. But hey, that's the kind of world we live in since they
picked the bad Bushes instead of the good ones, or rather the kind of world where they pick themselves for us. They have a passel of "medical experts" that they pay for one giant research job: they're to spend their days, years,
lives digging shit up which is incriminating concerning marijuana.
Gathering stats about pot for the ONDCP propaganda mill is not a noble profession; it helps no one, get over yourselves, would-be medical expert, and do something that actually saves some lives if you want my accolades.
Stop being Mister Impressive Seeming Spokesparrot and get some actual cred.
Yeah, I know, I know. It's all a rigged game, in that they explicitly make it quite clear that if by some mysterious quirk of our ever-mysterious LORD JESUS CHRIST (or his daddy) happen to um, find anything else about pot in your
research - something like "It doesn't really kill brain cells" or "It's impossible to OD on" or something, well, for all anyone'll ever see of it, it won't exist, so if you're not as smart as you look and would waste your time doing unpaid
work, go ahead with it, otherwise just do what we pay you for, and bring us the dirt instead of the flowers you found growing in it, and you will get paid money, get a credit card, get "credible work experience" in a medical research
field. See, those pharmcorps pay us a LOT of money to not let people just throw some seeds of a fucking unpatentable plant into their garden, give them the flora
version of TLC and some water and then have a multipurpose tonic which either eliminates or distracts one from the symptoms of hundreds of mind and body complaints, plus will make them less willing to pay the exhorbitant prices they'd
otherwise be paying for daily doses of pills that would be 99% placebos if the didn't have the measurable effect of making people forget how to achieve orgasm, or at least severely impede it. And get this, all
they had to do with this pill was colour it blue, give it some floofy name of "Zoloft" that sounds a little like "zolpidem" and a lot like "softy-lofty" said with their face flat in a pillow, and then announce they had a new
"antidepressant" which was like Prozac, but wouldn't make you kill yourself or shoot people, even if it wrecked your sex life over and over until there wasn't one to wreck and took your money for doing it.
And then...Presto! All those millions of people have been coming to the pharmcorps, via their "embedded doctor" stooges holding prescription pads and the keys of life and death, and they paid these pharmcorp folks, who are good
friends of ours in November, alarmingly vast sums for it all, that and the privelege of having their HMO doctor - who they get to pick just as much as they get to pick who is president these days: not at all - to officially give
their Professional And Thus Believable Opinion/Verdict that "Your medication is helping you. You are responding well to it and it is helping you learn to "manage" your depression". What cleverness of lingo:
"manage" their depression! They've not received a pharmacy script, they've 'employed" a "manager" for their depression.
Some racket, huh? Isn't America Grand? The important thing we're trying to get across here, though, is that since you cannot patent a plant, only a pill and there's a plant called Cannabis sativa which is easy to grow,
simple to process and which delivers a registerably positive effect on one ingesting it provided they're not paranoid, which is how people respond to someone telling them that they might go to jail for taking Something Bad and then
be refused piles of priveleges after that since they are now Bad People who we aren't supposed to like but are allowed to hate. But you're a medical expert, so you must already know that by now! But here's the deal, see, the
pharmcorps lose truckloads of money, probably have been cooking their books since 1985 or so--since it was the 'in" thing to do, but that was back in the Clinton years, see where that rampant sexual-type stuff got us? Look,
nobody likes to lose millions of dollars, especially people who never had it to begin with, but we won't go there right now. Right now I want you, Mister Stuffed Whitecoat we call our latest "Medical Expert", think of their kids. They
might get deprived if you pull another of those reports out from your, what's the polite medically-asexual type word for a person's uh, "anal cavity"? Oh, that IS the polite word for it! Pull any more data - especially that stuff about the
rats whose tumors evaporating - and the children of our good friends might have to spend their Christmas without five hundred dollars worth of corporate media advertising cleverly disguised as toys, games, computer
software and stupid plastic things to put in their mouths like kids do with everything. They might only get half that. They'll be deprived...they will feel bad, like it was their fault, like they weren't being good
enough kids for Santa to give him what he gave their next door neighbours. That can, ya know, really warp a kid for LIFE, and it would ALL be YOUR fault, just because you valued some insignificant pecadillo, some tidbit
of your research, admittedly a tidbit which was true and thus ignoring it is kind of like lying, but what's more important? You'd put that above a child's Christmas? You aren't a bad sort of chap. Are you?
Speaking of "the children" - the ones everyone's bending over backwards in a mass contortion circus sideshow
called Keeping The Kids Off Drugs for - yeah, those kids. These kids are yours.
And everyone else's - save for the blessed few who had the fortitude and sense to get a tubal...or who are otherwise unhampered by a fertile, sperm-accessible baby factory in their bellies...and sincde this planet must strike you as somewhere between "dodgy
as hell" and "utter disorder" and trust either me or your own senses: it ain't gonna get better before the rich nuts make it WORSE as they play some kind of weird form of multi-billionaire Survivor game with the planet we live on, but using YOU (and all
the other schlubs without the Multibillion Club Card) for the fodder that get killed while they sit around and watch, waiting to hear trumpet noises and see beasts or whatever else they think God guaranteed them using the voices of
people about a thousand years ago who must have been eating Amanita muscaria or at least morning glory seeds to have seen some of that stuff and thought it was of such significance--beyond ironic!
And you aren't going to get off
easy. Their play needs a large cast of disposables and they've already got you almost totally trained to every cue with their movies and television shows about future apocalypse societies that are actually the next
generation's stand-in for bread and circuses. Call it "performance art" or "religion" but don't call me when your five kids are whining for food in 2015 after the oil is gone and "energy" is but a memory. You won't get off easy, and it's
a choice you made that's irrevokable, so you better get "penance" by convincing a few others not to do the same. What, sympathy? Go eat sand. Your extra three or four kids will be demanding my food, after they've eaten your
houses dry.
No one takes this seriously - and perhaps someone somewhere made it so and got us worked up for the "practice drill" apocalypse (called "Y2K") and we all know how that went. THAT was such a washout that no-one will believe
the reality of a SLOW, undramatic, terribly boring and untelegenic apocalypse that has already started to happen.The little boy who cried "Wolf" for giggles ended up having everyone ignore HIS ass when the Wolf
actually showed up, and by golly that's just what that idiot with his Y2K compu-crash story did to US.
I didn't used to believe it either, but I have started to: the oil supply is so low it has forced "democratic" America to veer irreparably far from
the democracy it so highly values in the 2000 election. The guy's still in the white house and we didn't elect him!
Even stupid people have tolerance barriers, and some of them actually end up getting smart, which is annoying to the elites who blithely assumed they were going to be
idiots forever. And had a great deal of faith that their meek obeisance to them would endure. What endures is hunger, the notion that something they cannot access would cure it. will cure it, and since people don't think much
about things like the fact that it takes trucks travelling all over every single day of each year to bring their food to the goddamn Safeway from the farm where it got grown and so when people can't afford to drive trucks anymore and
nobody bothered to deal with the "alternate fuel" thing far enough back to have something that works (Doesn't help that the corporate cruds tend to discourage this since it would deprive them of money, since their stock is deeper in
oil than the planet the people who invest in it live on!)
What this lengthy diversion into something having nothing to do with drugs is here for is this: we're putting stupid shit about drugs into every "public service annoyance announcement" as if that were as much of a crisis as
running out of oil is?
Show me a starving person who wants food enough to kill for it or die trying and I'll show you a nutrition junkie - plus I'll show you someone who may, at long last when it's too late, understand
actual drug addicts, defined as those whose bodies are opiate-dependent to the point of failing to function when deprived of opiates (that's why they sometimes do yukky stuff like drool, and sweat buckets, and crap themselves
and have bad breath and body odor and just about any unpleasantry the body warning system cooks up when unbuffered by the in-built failsafe of the endorphin system.) Kids, this happens ONLY to heroin addicts and people who
eat Oxycontin like M&Ms, like your friend Rush Limbaugh--whose name shoulda been " Limbic Rush".
This ugly physical stuff does NOT happen to anyone who takes any drug it all, it happens ONLY to those addicted to opiates, and thus have failing pleasure-pain related hormonal systems...people who just got too cozy with the
seemingly brilliant convenience of the ability to be pushing their brain buttons to just feel comfortable, as opposed to doing it to be astoundingly and gloriously high". People like me, who didn't take heroin seriously enough,
not after mentally fobbing it off as yet another lame drug war myth, another boogyman-drug lie - that turned out, sadly enough, to be the only measurably and experientially true thing those jerks EVER TOLD me in their half-
assed drug diversion effort, which had an effect for me of doing nothing but igniting an intense curiosity about drugs which could only be satisfied by taking them.
A REAL "public service message" would be one that cogently communicates that since food loss causes starvation, and more mouths eat more food, it should stand to reason that it would be a damned
good idea for us all to stop having more babies. Yes, this applies to anyone considering having more than one or perhaps two if they can afford it and have some way they make up for it by providing the rest of
the future famine victims of dying America, Inc. (TM) This applies to everyone, including YOU, if you're even having a stupid dream of a "Cheaper by the Dozen" brood or other vile Brady Bunch nightmare of over-
offspringing your family.
The pharm-corps are already trying to get the FDA to let them give your kids Zoloft, which should keep them nicely stuck at age 11 where they will never reach puberty, or barely reach it - thus depriving you of so many sleepless
nights, and so what if it gives your kid some lifelong sexual neurosis or developmental psychosis, and so what if we spend more to keep pot illegal and keep illegal pot separated from people who want to use it than that which is spent
to do things like study the SSRI antidepressants that half the country is on? If people were getting stoned all the time they'd be like...like people in other countries who don't have values, who don't do things in a way the
Soccer Moms and Nascar Dads do them!
Here is how those "medical studies" that prove Drugs are Bad For Us get found: researchers are hired to produce data to prove this point, and they do the research, and then when the data's collected and collated, well... anything that doesn't do what the researchers were paid to find out is chucked. Tthey're told to keep it to their damned selves and shut up, and hand over something else that sounds less favourable.
I expect these poor guys are
either bribed or threatened, or both, but I'd feel more sorry for them if they'd stop being patsies and lying for a government junta that makes lying its chosen strong suit - and also to stop doing things like suffocating monkeys just to
be able to say "It was bad for them to smoke this. It didn't happen to the Good Monkeys in the odd numbered cages." Any monkey would end up with a dead brain if it had a mask strapped to its face to force it to breathe smoke of ANY kind for five minutes. They'd have died if it was six minutes.
What's more they tell us that pot
will have medical value as soon as you take the ingredient that makes you feel good out of it, which IS the medical value itself, out of it...and this is exactly what the pharm-corps are trying to do now with it, "defang it" as if it
were a rattlesnake and make it sit inside you, doing everything so long as it's nothing, as long as it doesn't make you feel "euphoria", it counts as medicine. WHAT KIND OF LOGIC IS THIS? Mark my words: right after they figure out how to do that, make marijuana that won't get the user HIGH, and presto, whatever government we'll be stuck with will
magically allow its legalisation. Watch, and see. (And hope this screed's wingnut author is bloody wrong with her Future Predictions - for once.)
America made fun drugs other than alcohol illegal BEFORE the INK ON THE AMENDMENT REPEALING THE VOLSTEAD ACT was even HALFWAY DRY...and for what was this done?
Mostly it wasn't that drugs were causing such catastrophic problems as making people slightly more interested in hedonistic pursuits than just to keep the bootlegger-busters employed doing something with themselves (like scaring
the public with hate-lit about reefer, and your daughter, and that Mexican saxophone player who'll surely rape her after he tokes up even one eency-weency hit) make some people feel so great they more or less marry the
things (or at least convince their spouses by example to join them) or else they probably already were Born Again and Discovered Jesus long ago, thanks to the Seekrit Metacorporate Government Control Axis (whose leader
proves over and over that HE is the so-fucking-called "AXIS of 'EEEEEEVIL" by making such incontrovertibly WHEEL-LOVING STATEMENTS as only an Axis, i.e "a thing that sticks through the hole in a WHEEL" would make.
"Let's roll!" he says, saying to us all "Hey look! I'm president, and did it without all of YOU voting for me, just because my dad could see how much the LORD wanted ME to be YOUR JUGGERNAUT for you, and will
now repeat this manufactured 9/11 Reader's Digest heroic glurge story too good to actually be true and too bad to sound like something someone'd take the trouble and risk to MAKE UP, I'll continue to say this again and again tying
the nation to the cross of the former World Trade Center, and do it 500,000 times more or until my coke stash is gone, whichever happens first.")
He and his pals are the ones throwing people into an ever-largening number of hellish techno-secured and surveilled panopticons (which are not properly describable by the term 'prisons') for whom the sole and only offence was determined
to be that of having or using the pleasantly smokeable flowers of a hemp plant, selling same, or - heaven forbid, passing out "club drugs" to rave-rats who ask to be given it in the first place. While the ONDCP morons just spend lots
and lots of the tax money to put out dumb ads which tell kids to not smoke flowers that make them feel good and instead think up something nice and wholesome and declare it "their anti-drug", thereby just making me wonder what's
wrong with their brains for thinking that telling kids that they can either have "things they like, category drug" or "things they like, category non_drug" IN THEIR WHOLE LIVES or even in the same coexisting nanosecond is A
GOOD IDEA or that it will actually convince anyone interested in experimenting with drugs NOT TO except for three to five people in every million who are too stupid to be taking them in the first place.
As one might guess, the DEA and the ONDCP feed each other's need for each other over and over in a stupid LOOP. What ONDCP ads sometimes come off as are thickly-to-thinly-veiled drug commercials.
The ONDCP is - along with the only thing more messed up than themselves, the DEA - nothing but a waste of your money and mine to do a nasty number on "the youth of America" -figuring that kids are malleable...and the adults
are already a lost cause. (Could be it's becausee they already know they LIE.)
Some people know that some drug experiences can be so excruciatingly good that they can become more special and significant than days of ritual institutional significance
involving the same social scripts that everyone else running biocomputer programs called 'Disney Grad Night' or 'Big Game' or 'My Fancy Wedding' are fooled somehow into thinking are personal and significant to them - even
though 5000 other people are doing and saying those exact same things they're doing and saying, just because it's supposed to be so special...not because it actually IS. Drug experiences, the good ones, DO exist, despite all efforts to
cover that up--the efforts THEMSELVES are testament to this. Now what happens when someone tries their first bong hit one day and realises s/he doesn't end up in an ambulance crying over a dead boyfriend or parent or some other pathetically Emotional Mediagenic Fucking MOMENT? That person might have a hard time believing anything else that the government tells them about drugs, including the things it managed to NOT lie about (CLUE: Heroin REALLY IS THAT BAD FOR YOU.)
It's like this...Either they clue that some of the use of those "recreational" drugs - "recreational" ones, they're called, denoting something that's just mindless pleasure like their drug of choice "Television" (generic pharmacy brand for "TeeVee") as opposed to calling them something that could possibly have enduring positives connected to it. Recreational drugs, they get called, instead of "edifying visionary" drugs, or "psychospiritual" ones, or "cognition-enhancement agents".
The "proscribed not prescribed" substance has been, is, and/or will be (and ALWAYS will be, to some of us) NOT a thing that is ALWAYS, BY DEFAULT a BAD EXPERIENCE with the conclusion pre-foregone of an UNHAPPY ENDING filled with remorse, regret, and the sound of your abject, miserable sobbing and pseudo-repentent BULLSHIT with your FRIENDS GATHERED in a CIRCLE JERK called an "intervention"
that will whisk you to a rehab where they'll take your money (or your daddy's) and give you a mishmash of some North Korean-style brainrinse plus some entirely fake "character building" exercises, which involve processes like fellow inmates sitting on you and and calling you 'druggie' 1000 times an hour for a whole summer.
For more info on the corporate scam of coercive drug-rehabs see http://fornits.com/anonanon.
Some of these infernal places are still open and laying Dumb Head Trips on the parents of teenagers assumed to be drugginess-prone in order to rob them blind and throw their kids into a "therapeutic community" that is neither therapeutic nor a community. They've done this for the past 25 years to to a few thousand kids, some of whom merely got labelled by some fucking hyperactive guidance counselor
(or other person who "knows what's best" for them better than they themselves do) as being "at risk" for smoking marijuana, even if they never even tried it!
What's that? They listen to your crapaganda. They don't smoke the stuff even though maybe they have some cultural desire to.
And you STILL send them to Rehab, otherwise known as the "Academy of Losers Who
Lecture You About Important-Sounding Principles, Then Prove They Have Exactly None Themselves."
The worst part of this scam is that the whole schmeer rests on the idea that instead of spending good money to hire counselors and admins who might have even a trace of fucking THERAPY-GIVING CREDENTIALS, you use
what's already on the premises and paying for that very privelege! The OTHER victims patients suckers' kids who are JUST AS "unstable" or "prone to reject authority" as YOURS supposedly is!
Hoo-boy! That quite possibly is
more outrageous than ponzi schemes AND pump-and-dump stock-crookedry together. Maybe we ARE actually, as some have suggested, getting progressively stupider with each generation - how else would you explain people
who would not only believe the best thing to give your druggie kid is being sat on by someone else's druggie kid - and one who only does the "sitting on your kid" shit because s/he's punished himself or herself if s/he
refuses, plus is steadily, after enough drumming, starting to dance to the beat on autopilot and just get it over with so they'll get the fuck let out of whatever Drug War Guantanamo camp they got sent to, find some stoner kids
somewhere and spark one up.
This should really be effective... As in "cost-effective" for the fuckwits running the place.
There was some anal-retentively-numerical sort of master plan which was to have us all "drug free by the year 2000".
Like the Y2K Bug "Apocalypse Not", this was a lie which a few hundred thousand heads, including this one, have New Years' party memories that put a HUGE GASH into.
For SOME FOLKS at SOME MOMENTS certain drug experiences are, let's face it, something that 's sort of like Christmas, your first orgasm and the "Our Team Won The Pennant" beer-bash all rolled into one. These people, however misguided they MIGHT BE but sometimes just plain AREN'T, are HAVING A BLAST while you're sitting there stewing in your juices, worried that everyone's "hepped up on goofballs" or "out doing those club drugs dancing and hugging and petting and you're working 60 hours a week for people who don't like you doing things that are boring. It's kind of understandable you'd hate us. Besides, the TV, which has NO GOOD ROLE MODELS AMONGST ITS DRUGGIE CHARACTERS but instead only TEACHES DRUG USERS TO ACT LIKE IDIOTS, has been leading us collectively astray, from the relative beauty and innocence of the "flower children" to the idiocy of "candy ravers" and "gangstas". I beg the straights to remember: we're not all like that.
But your sense of responsibility is something a lot of us need to learn. We
should be LEFT ALONE to enjoy our drugs - if they're sending us to an early grave, what the fuck do you care? What I'm trying to figure out is this - a lot of us are people you'd glady have as friends provided that we turned around and left behind our
FAVOURITE INDULGENCE and PASTIME iin life. Would you want someone holding that condition on YOU? Give up your favourite thing, you can be our friend, you can work with us, have a good job, just so long as you piss in this bottle here and show you've left behind that THING you LOVE.
It's sad. Druggies need love, too, and they need it from people other than themselves once in a blue moon. Likewise some of you anal retentive clean-and-sober, straight-edge people could learn a few things from the druggies. You don't HAVE to take drugs to be thought of as cool by us; that DARE "peer pressure" nonsense is exactly that. Nonsense.