If It's All Poison, Why Can't We Choose?

Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored," day three of a snow day weekend! Oh, by all the bored gods, it's so nice to be sort of, a little bit, okay somewhat, caught up on some things!

Here's a nice photo, taken by a man named Bruce Lin, of some of the wenches in the Two Street Stompers. This is just about the best photo I have ever seen of the "rank and file" members of our club. It's hard to describe men in dresses to people who've never seen the Mummers Parade. This helps bundles, so thanks, Mr. Wonderful Photographer!

Today's sermon sort of begins with the Mummers, but it diverges quickly, so settle in.

The Mummers Parade is sponsored by one of Philadelphia's big casinos. There are now casinos in Philly, Atlantic City, Allentown, and Valley Forge. The Philly casinos are expanding. A new one will soon be built just two blocks from Independence Hall. These casinos advertize on radio and television. Needless to say, if you want them to, they will email you early and often.

I grew up in genteel poverty. My father, who was not particularly religious, thought gambling was a sin. He said it ruined lives. And you might say, "Well, yes, it ruins people financially ... puts perfectly good families out on the street, breaks up relationships, and is addictive to at least some of its users." Let me tell you, congregation: I know someone who died of gambling. Died of it. She was so addicted to casino gambling that she ignored every sign of sickness in order to keep playing poker. On her premature deathbed, she begged her family to take her to Atlantic City.

Do I need to go into the many and varied woes associated with alcohol? I think not. Some people can drink all they want and never have a bad day. Other people aren't so fortunate. Blah blah blah ... this is a tired re-hash. I'm moving on.

Both gambling and booze are bad for some people, but our society accepts them.But now the plot thickens.

The state of Colorado has legalized the recreational use of marijuana. The state expects a financial windfall from taxation of the product, and there's no way to project how this legalization will affect tourism. And from many quarters there is loud lamentation and hand-wringing about how dangerous weed is, how it will fall into the hands of teenagers and contribute to fatal automobile accidents and cause a whole generation of Colorado youngsters to become brain-damaged, listless stoners with no future.

I'm not going to hop on a jet and go out to Denver for a Rocky Mountain high anytime soon, but I honestly applaud Colorado for this move. It has never been difficult for teenagers to obtain marijuana. There is no difference between stoned driving and drunk driving. As for young, developing brains, well ... they've already been under siege from booze and pharmaceuticals, both of which can usually be found in Pop Pop's kitchen cabinets.

Smoking reefer is exactly as perilous as gambling and drinking. I do not see one iota of difference. Most people will be able to light up the occasional doobie and enjoy themselves immensely without harm to themselves or others. Some people will have problems with it. To be completely candid, however, I will say that I've seen people really, really drunk, and I've seen people really, really stoned. The stoners get my vote. They're not likely to pick a bloody fight over the relative merits of the Philadelphia Eagles and the Dallas Cowboys.

Brothers and sisters, many things that are legal and pleasurable are bad for us. No one has proven that weed is worse than the legal poisons of booze and gambling. Therefore, why are these cash-strapped states depriving themselves of a taxable product that would be regulated for its purity?

I say, give us freedom of choice with this all-natural pleasure-enhancer! And I am not saying this because I use weed. I'm saying it because it's no worse than the highly-taxed alcohol and casino industries.

When it comes to picking your poison, I say we should have extreme latitude. How would legalization of pot in my state affect me? Oh my soul. Have you ever rolled up to a turnpike toll booth without enough money to pay your way ... because they just raised the rates again?

Rocky. Mountain. High.

So, What's with Mugwort?

Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored," where we have never, ever understood why someone can buy a fifth of whiskey and get into a raging drunk -- legally -- while a peaceful little spliff gets you sent to jail. This, my friends, is injustice.

We at TGAB quickly add that we do not partake of either whiskey or spliffs, feeling one to be evil and the other to be illegal. Enough said.

However, there is a weed growing rampant in my yard that has my curiosity piqued. It's mugwort.

The Druids considered mugwort a magical herb that led to enlightenment. Now the state of Louisiana wants to make it illegal to grow mugwort. Is there something promising in this hardy perennial that has choked out everything else in my garden?

Please, if you have any anecdotal information on the ingestion of mugwort, please share. It's April 20, and I'm going outside to make a fire of a certain pesky perennial ... just on the odd chance that ...

This is New Jersey, after all, not Louisiana.

My Awesome Solution for Better Living and Working Conditions in West Virginia and Kentucky

Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored!" Should be grading papers. Blogging instead. I'll just give all my students A's, and everyone will be happy!

See how easy it is to be a teacher?


Today's sermon: Improving the economy of West Virginia and Kentucky

Why do men (and a few women) go deep into mountains and labor under dangerous working conditions that could get them killed at any time? Emm, I dunno ... maybe for the money? If coal mining was the only decent job where you lived, and you were hired to do it, would you say, "Oh, no, I think I'll work at Wal-Mart instead," and then go toil at pennies on the dollar? Not me. I'd strap on the helmet and spend my days in the dark.

You might say, "Anne, coal miners could move somewhere else and work in another occupation." To which I would reply, "Yes, many West Virginians emigrated to Detroit and Akron and such places to be auto manufacturers. But gosh. Hard as it is to imagine, people who live in the mountains love the mountains and want to stay there."

Cutting to the quick, here's my handy solution to the unemployment problems in two of our nation's most beautiful and scenic states.

First, you pass a law legalizing marijuana growth and use in West Virginia and Kentucky. All marijuana must be grown, processed, and used within those two states. Voila! An instant and ongoing economic stimulus! You'd have farming, processing, and that perennial moneymaker, tourism. You'd need border guards and extra law enforcement. Jobs, jobs, and more jobs. And none of them underground!

I suggest this sensible solution because it has worked in The Netherlands. The tourist industry there has boomed with the legalization of weed. Turns out that very few natives smoke the stuff. It's sold primarily to tourists.

So we fire up the farms and the processing plants (jobs), we designate some fine resort areas for pot cafes (The Greenbriar springs to mind -- you reading this, Al Gore?), and we step up border vigilance (jobs). All of this would lead to an influx of tourists spending money on food (jobs), pot (jobs, as above), lodging (jobs), and souvenirs (jobs, but probably in China).

The only downside I can see to this is that some people in the western states might say it's not fair that they would have to fly to Charleston or Louisville to visit a pot cafe. Oh well. You have Yellowstone. Deal with it.

To those who would object to pot use on moral grounds, here is my response:

1. Which makes a person meaner, a doobie or a fifth of Jack?
2. Marijuana use was legal until the 1930s, was supported by the pharmaceutical industry, and was only vilified by William Randolph Hearst because hemp was used to make paper, and Hearst had bought scads of forest to cull for paperwood.

Hemp! Oh, for the love of fruit flies, I forgot all about hemp! Fabric! Paper! And the manufacture thereof. More jobs!

Yes, I know this will never happen. But a lot of sensible things never happen. Doesn't mean they aren't sensible.

This advice is offered to the citizens and lawmakers of West Virginia and Kentucky free of charge as a courtesy of "The Gods Are Bored." But, folks in those parts ... if you decide to do it, can I get some comps?

Stoner Flicks, Then and Now

Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored," where today we'll remind you right up front ... it's not illegal to go to a stoner flick.

Even if you don't count "Reefer Madness," stoner flicks have been around a long time. And for some reason, I love them.

Your classic stoner flick throws together two characters who have little in common beyond their fondness for weed. The plot need be no more complicated than having the heroes find weed, lose weed, get weed back again, or successfully partake of their munchies of choice. The conflict need be no more complicated than the friends fending off those who would take their weed, share their weed, steal their munchies, or berate them (uselessly) for being losers.

Ahhh. The good ol' days. Cheech and Chong at the midnight bijou, "Up in Smoke." Remember Cheech's pimped car? Me neither. Tee hee!

Now study this old picture closely. Cheech and Chong look pretty buzzed, don't they? Of course they freakin' do, it's a stoner movie!

Which brings me to our modern era, when one night recently I found my options limited to watching the Summer Olympics or hobbling into the nearby cineplex to see a stoner movie. I thought I had this one bagged, tagged, and ready for sale. Never saw a stoner flick I didn't love.

Until now.

Have you noticed that so many movies today are written by their star or their director? (Come to think of it, Cheech Marin and Tommy Chong were pioneers in this respect.) Well, Cheech got it mostly right. Seth Rogen, the star/co-writer of Pineapple Express, literally a stoner flick in name only, laid an egg.

Pineapple Express has that stoner flick staple, two dudes with nothing in common who get paired up over their love of pot. But these two dudes really don't have anything in common. And then the plot is just ... oh well, let's let a picture paint a thousand words.

Do these guys look stoned? No, and that's because in this movie, even when they take a moment to light up, they're still being chased after and shot at. This isn't a stoner flick, it's Grand Theft Ganja. It's not Dazed and Confused, it's Dead and Abused. Bill and Ted? No, Killed and Dead.

If ever two genres should not be mixed in any meaningful way, it's the stoner flick and the action flick. Lack of action is the whole point of being stoned. Those of you who get your vicarious pot thrills from watching stoner movies (like me) should best steer clear of Pineapple Express. It's all killer, no chiller.

Do you think an Obama/Biden administration will legalize marijuana? Me neither.

Happy 101st Birthday, Alice B. Toklas!

Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored," where you should not feel so all alone! Everybody must get .... emmmm ..... never mind.

Today is the 101st birthday of Alice B. Toklas, famous companion and beloved of writer Gertrude Stein. In honor of the event, my daughter The Heir and I will toddle into Camden, New Jersey tonight for our monthly meeting of Pizza and Poetry. It's Alice B. Toklas Night.

I baked some brownies for the occasion. I haven't tasted them yet. They don't have ganj in them. It's illegal. And we at "The Gods Are Bored" aren't big on breaking the law. We can't gas up the car, so where would we get money for reefer ... and the fines you have to pay if you're caught with it? Forget it.

At the same time, we at "The Gods Are Bored" are strongly in favor of the re-legalization of marijuana. I say re-legalization because pot wasn't made illegal until the 1930s, largely due to a PR campaign against it by newspaper magnate William Randolph Hearst. (Hearst wanted to sell his pulpwood for newspaper production and therefore wanted the cheaper, more environmentally sound hemp taken off the market.)

Recent studies have shown that today's super-strength weed, consumed in quantity, causes brain damage. Ya think? Well, if something's illegal, it's unregulated. You don't know what's in that baggie, son. Steer clear.

However, if pot was legal, it would be inspected by those masters of efficiency, the Food and Drug Administration. The skunk hybrid stuff would be out, and the more benign cannabis in. Bought in packs. With filters. Must show valid ID, etc. etc.

Benign? Yes indeedy, the old-time stuff was benign. Just ask George Washington how he cured his toothache. Midwives used it to ease labor pains. And given the choice between a confrontation with someone who's toked and someone who's been downing martinis all evening, I choose the toker. Every time.

Pot causes brain damage? Probably. But so does booze. I would tell you how booze causes brain damage, but I can't remember. Ah, but this reminds me to go to the totally legal liquor store and buy a bottle of wine for Pizza and Poetry! If I don't forget. I think you see my point, but if you don't, I'll have forgotten making it by tomorrow.

I'm not going to hold my breath until reefer gets legalized in this country. So on to the other Alice B. Toklas crusade.

Alice really, really, really loved Gertrude. And vice versa. They had fabulous parties and fabulous friends. Like Picasso. It seems Picasso enjoyed their company so much that he gave them a couple of paintings. Which Gertrude's family legally confiscated from Toklas at Gertrude's death. Alice died a pauper.

For the love of fruit flies, can't we recognize gay couples with the same legal protections we fling at straight couples? Is that asking too much, Kansas? A little old-age security for someone whose dying words were, "Will I see Gertrude in heaven?"

Oh yeah. Gay people don't go to heaven. No, wait. False. False. False. Gay people are warmly welcome in Sidhe and also by the Greek pantheon. So if you're gay, just pick a queer-friendly heaven. It's not hard to do.

And while you're alive, as far as we at "The Gods Are Bored" are concerned, you should be rewarded for fidelity to a partner the same way myself or Mr. Johnson will be rewarded when one of us passes on, leaving the other to make his own coffee (or mow her own grass).

Hoping Alice B. Toklas would approve of this post I remain,

Your faithful servant,

ANNE J. JOHNSON