Much ado about a couple of psychedelic vegetables.

I love Facebook. I love everything about it right from the way it frequently changes its layout like a maze that’s just out to devour you to the people you meet that spew out some of the most ridiculous typing ever to grace a French keyboard, and I especially like how much I have to think while using it. Yes, I sound like I’m talking out my ass, but I legitimately mean this in a totally dry manner.

Man, I must be high. Speaking of, actually.

The only reason I decide to praise Facebook (bro) in my state of sheer boredom isn’t becuase I’ve reached nirvana or something ludicrous. Otherwise I’d be too busy playing Silly Bastards with JFK, Santa Claus and John Leguziamo. It’s because that, for one reason of another (maybe I was a friend or a friend or something, I don’t even know) due to an inexplicible glitch in fate, I was invited to a protest concerning the legality of cannibis in New Zealand. Which is amusing because if they’re organizing things now, just think what else they could do. Like, work. Or contribute to society. 

I kid, I kid. To be honest, I’m partially on their side. Excluding the fact that I act like I’m tweaking out on some wonder drug twenty-four seven anyway, I’ve never seen the big deal over what makes marijuana bad. The entire thing seems amazingly retarded. Banning nature. Pshaw. That’s stoner talk. But of course, like all of my rants, I’ve studied up on the subject to offer both sides of the opinion so that when I do eventually slam my gargantuan Level 99 ubershlong into someone’s rigid camel sphincter, I can justify the aggravated assault charges in court. 

So, here’s the story. Marijuana is bad. At least, that’s what the mainstream, air-breathing normal people believe. But then again, society has constantly been teaching us that drugs are bad, m’kay? It’s a particularly narrow minded view of pharmaceuticals that sounds even more shallow from a stock model office worker saying he’d never touch drugs while popping Panadol for his migraine. And the line drawn between what is “drugs” and what isn’t gets kinda blurry after the TCP kicks in. This isn’t alleviated by the whole “it’s not hurting anyone” factor of the users against the almost fatherly hatred of the prosecutors, i.e. “I ain’t letting none of my kids touch no weed. Now get off my lawn before I blow yo balls off with a ceiling fan.”

The main defense for the prosecution is that marijuana is a gateway drug. As in, once you get over marijuana, you’ll want a bigger high and move on to the more addictive and never to be warranted cocaine or something ridiculous. But this is coming from people with real motivation. Pencil pushers and the like. I talk to people that take marijuana that struggle to get out of the shower in the morning. They need water wings just in case they drown in the rain. I can hardly see people that stoned having the motivation or the willpower to stop getting something that is so easy and that makes one feel like Jay Leno’s doubly-funny son in law, to go on an epic quest to White Castle to get them some white snow. Seeing the people that take marijuana and seeing the destination even makes me go “fuck that shit”.

On the other smokier side of things, I have to take my beanie off to the stoners who made an interesting argument concerning, surprisingly, the amount of effort it takes to ban marijuana. Consider this. The amount of manpower used to regulate the day-to-day maintenance of the banning of marijuana could be better suited in the traffic regulation, or the council work. You know, somewhere we need it. The police service in NZ has something to be desired, and we have a decent sector watching people get high for a living. Really? On the positive side of things, if our government is this dedicated to banning something, they must actually care.

No, wait. Sorry. That’s a lie. What you’re actually seeing here is a bit of a double standard. Alcohol and tobacco are perfectly legal drugs at the age of eighteen and over, and I’m pretty sure that this has been the course of more “I’m flying, Jack” moments off a ravine than MJ has. Hell, stoners don’t even need to leave the bloody room. They can imagine a ravine that they can jump off. And they have unicorns. I’ve never seen a unicorn at the bottom of my Bailey’s, thank you very much. And while I can see that the entire case as to the health risks associated with the drug are something of a big deal, it is people under the influence of a drug that screws things over, not the drug itself. And the media sees more problems with alcohol and smoking use than any other drug out there today.

But this is all just theory so far. We need cold hard facts. Sadly, this is where most of the dumbfuckery stems from. There have been many debates to the medicinal uses of marijuana, but let’s face it, no one wants it for that. The brunt of the pro-stoners anonymous front is the effects of said MJ. See, one of the major effects of marijuana is as a muscle relaxant, as well as hallucinogenic effects such as the unicorn action sequence from the last paragraph. This high is what most marijuana takers are really going for – euphoria, good times, the rush. It’s what leads to people to skydive, take a holiday, ride a bike, play chess, play video games, drink, read, type rants of ludicrous length. The escapism is what hooks marijuana users. The prohibitors state that this is the first road to the hippies and degenerates, the stoners say it’s not harming anyone. We have a stalemate. Yes, it’s a stalemate between politic crayon-eaters and conch shells, but then every society needs its Laurel and Hardy, right?

I say, fuck the lot of you. I propose that we get five politicians, five stoners and five random bystanders into a room, padlock soundproof earmuffs (so no one gets all existentalist on me. Saves on my ammo stockpile) to their head and leave fifteen tokes on the table. No funny business, just the opportunity. Those who want it can have it. Those who don’t are free to go. When it causes a problem, we can deal with it, like if one of the stoner children thinks he’s a narwhal and starts headbutting the two way mirror and mating with the microphone stand. Control it, enforce it, but don’t ban it. If you’re content in letting people with the capacity of an inner-ear infection patient drive a motor vehicle, you are also content to let them space out on a couch somewhere and pretend the stars are fireflies in that big blue-ish black thing in the sky.

At the end of the day, there has to be choice. And I’m not saying legalise it because I side with the stoners here, because every stoner I know doesn’t seem to have any clue what the fuck is going on. Hell, I’d be surprised if a standard stoner got to this point in the rant and proceeded to give me a whupping. But at least provide the choice. Slap the R18 thing on it, offer it, give them the choice. Besides, you could turn it into a profit thing. Everyone would be happy. The government could have the wealth, the scientists could have their plants and the stoners can have Larry the eighteen footed kangaroo who came from Venezuela to play hop scotch.

In summary. Politicians, stick that in your pipe and smoke it, stoners, stick that in your bong and smoke it, and Larry can smoke it out of his ass. Cause he’s cool like that.

Peace out, y’all.

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