Should marijuana be legalized? Our modern society is so complicated; we need a law for everything. We must be told what to do and what not to do. Here’s my take…
The practical man in me says that we should legalize marijuana. After all, alcohol is legal. Our jails have a lot of non-dangerous guys rotting in them at taxpayer expense, all due to their activities related to marijuana. My practical side says to let them out so we’ll have more room for those who are raping and killing and looking at kiddie porn. Let’s also incarcerate some of the young thugs who are randomly knocking people out. While we’re at it, let’s save a few jail cells for some Democrats and RINO’s. Other than that, let’s let the stoners out. Oh yeah, put Kathleen Sebelius in prison too… not for Obamacare related chicanery, but for her actions during her tenure as Kansas’s governor. (See http://www.operationrescue.org/noblog/sebelius-unfit-for-hhs-post-facts-about-her-connections-to-the-abortion-cartel/).
In fact, let’s legalize the production and sale of the weed. We can regulate it, tax it, and then drop the stupid wheel tax and the double dipping restaurant tax. I bet we’ll even have enough money left over to pay Tom Becka to retire.
(Note to young readers, taxation without representation is something we used to study in schools, even the public schools, before things started falling apart and whole language and cooperative learning and the like came in.)
The Libertarian in me just wants to be left alone. In fact, just leave everyone alone. If someone wants to roll a big, fat doobie on a Saturday night and go into his dark basement and listen to Pink Floyd, no one else should be able to tell him he can’t. After all, he breaks no laws by going into the same dark basement with a case of beer. Substantially, is there any difference between alcohol and marijuana? Let’s at least be consistent.
Don’t we have enough laws? Let’s not ignore the fact that the same Pink Floyd fan has to use fluorescent bulbs in his basement. If he ever gets up the energy to refinish his basement, he has to get permission first. In fact, he can’t even call the basement bedroom a bedroom if someone over 12 years old can’t fit through the egress window. The egress window might be necessary if he smokes tobacco in his house, which is about the only place he can smoke that anymore.
(Note to young readers. In case you are aghast that I bring up smoking tobacco, please know that people used to be able to smoke in restaurants (gasp!), in hospitals (the horror!), and even on airplanes (ye cats!). I well remember flying first class to San Diego back in the late 80’s. The gentleman behind me fired up a Marlboro Red to go along with his drink. I didn’t drink anything on that flight because I was praying so hard that we wouldn’t crash. I didn’t feel right drinking anything with alcohol in it while asking God’s favor. Anyway, about the smoking where and when people wanted… people seemed happier then.)
The Marxist/Socialist/Collectivist/Obama voter in me screams out that… wait a second, there ain’t none of that vile poison in me.
(Note to young readers. In case you think centralized power/wealth distribution is a workable model, please know two things. One, it has never worked well, anywhere. Two, those in power really don’t care about everyone getting an equal or fair share; they only care about being the ones to decide who gets what and how much. Funny how the few in power end up getting all the shiny toys. It’s true. Read Animal Farm.)
The daddy in me warns that we must never legalize any substance that harms our young people. Sure, the music sounds great, and the munchies are out of this world, but you’re killing brain cells, junior, cells that don’t grow back. I’ve seen too many dopers who can’t do basic long division for me to deny that brain cells are being killed. I also believe it to be a gateway drug to worse things, like listening to Pink Floyd.
(Note to young readers: You might think otherwise right now, but you really don’t want to flame out before you reach your mid-twenties. Turning on and tuning out is fun for about a week, dude. Unless you’re a trust fund baby, you’re going to want some things like shelter and clothing and water… you know, things that keep you alive. The best way to acquire said essentials is to offer a product or service in the free and open marketplace, a product or service that others want and are willing to pay for. Do something productive, whether you provide said service (labor) through a company, or you open up a bike shop. Just do something, and do it well so others will pay you for it. Oh yeah, young readers, specifically male… no one is going to pay you to stay up all night playing online games or looking at porn.)
(Subsequent note to young readers… in case you still think it’s okay to flame out by your mid-twenties, please know you WILL NOT feel that way when you reach 24 ½. Life after 25 is awesome, to use your word, and it can be wonderful provided you take care of yourself and you don’t vote for socialists.)
The child of the 60’s and 70’s in me, like the Libertarian in me, hollers out to just let people be. So what if Good Time Tommy wants to play with maryjane on a weekend? Pull out the bong, Tommy, and let the Woodstock of your youth rekindle. Stay up half the night, buddrow, as long as you get to work on time and you pay the light bill.
The Southerner in me gives a big ol’ rebel yell. Not because I feel one way or the other about this, just because I’m Southern, man, and I’m proud. No other part of the country has a yell all its own. That’s it. Crank up Marshall Tucker and make sure there’s bread at every meal.
Finally, the man in me gives voice to wisdom. This is the grownup that is old enough to know that I will not live forever on this mortal coil, and that I better not lead anyone astray with my words. I am accountable to God for what I say, and for what I do.
(Note to young readers: God exists, regardless of what your high school biology teacher preaches).
Someday, the wheel will stop turning, and I will have to face my Maker. My “rights” as a citizen of the richest nation on this planet will mean nothing then. My opinions, my take on the matter, my learned views… they will have long dissipated when I stand before the throne. Solomon, the wisest man who ever lived, wrote in Ecclesiastes… “Rejoice, O young man, in thy youth, and let thy heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth, and walk in the ways of thy heart, and in the sight of thine eyes; but know thou, that for all these things God will bring thee into judgment.”
Yikes, that’s serious stuff worth pondering. Let’s keep marijuana illegal.