Leave Mine to Me

Yeah, I’m back. Let’s not make a big deal out of it, okay?

A couple of weeks ago I got a piece of mail from Dave Van Kesteren, the Conservative MP of Chatham-Kent Essex. It was a mail-out that, for some reason, sought approval of the Conservative Government’s plan to reduce greenhouse gas emissions in an effort to curtail climate change. Luckily I know about the Harper government’s plan for Climate Change, because there was precious little to go on in that mail-out. It was light on information, asking only if I believed that curbing climate change was important and if I thought a plan that set fair targets across the board was favourable.
On the backside was a sort of ballot you could cut out and mail back, there were two little boxes you could check: Yes, I support the government’s plan for Climate Change or No, I don’t. Then there was a little space for comments, your name, address and so forth--presumably so that the Harper government could take note of the names and locations of its dissidents.
Dutifully I filled out the ballot and mailed it back. I checked the “no” box and included these comments:

Too little too late. The Conservative’s plan for action on Climate Change is an un-funny joke. Also, this mail-out campaign is a fantastic example of unsustainable, wasteful use of resources.

There are no points for being snippy with the government, but it is a lot of fun. I don’t expect them to listen, of course.

Two days ago I got a second mail-out from Mr. Van Kesteren’s office (maybe they do value my opinion after all). This time I’m being asked if I support the Conservative Government’s fight against illegal drugs in Canada. The idea here is that they’re introducing new legislation to impose mandatory minimum jail sentences on “serious drug crimes.”
Now, I suspect that the Harper government and I have differing views on what constitutes a “serious drug crime.” I certainly don’t like the idea of someone getting caught with an ounce of pot being jailed for any length of time--after all, the money spent on such an endeavour hardly makes it worthwhile.
My stance on drug use has always been pretty libertarian. If you’re using and not hurting anyone but yourself, well then, shine on you crazy star. This is natural selection hard at work.
And so, it should come as no surprise that my views on marijuana, specifically, have always been in the “legalize it” camp. I don’t smoke pot and haven’t for almost ten years. I found one day that it didn’t do anything for me but make my eyes burn and my cookies disappear. But I have countless friends who indulge from time to time, and even more who indulge far more frequently than that. I’d hate to see any of them go to jail for it--or for passing on bits of their supply to other friends for fair monetary compensation. That’s just good capitalism, and I was told in high school that anything else is utterly Evil.
So when I got on the treadmill yesterday afternoon I started to compose my response to Harper and his cronies. I was in the middle of trying to pare down an extremely lengthy argument regarding the amount of money spent on federal prisons and how in a truly sane society where smoking and alcohol consumption are legal, marijuana use ought to be legal as well. That was about kilometre number three, halfway through my planned work out when my brain went to a strange, new place.
Now, I’m not going to say that my relatively new, healthier lifestyle didn’t come into play in where my mind went next, but I will say that I doubt it was as big a part of my thought process as some of you will assume. Where my brain went was here:
“Hey, Dave, in a truly sane society, wouldn’t cigarettes and alcohol be illegal?”
To which I could only reply, “Well, brain, actually… yeah.”
I played with this argument for the remainder of my run, trying to find a hole. For three more kilometres I attacked it from all angles and got nowhere. In a sane society, no, marijuana would not be legal. And trans fats, cigarettes, alcohol, fossil fuels and American Idol would go with it.
So I put it out of my mind, resolving to work on the problem later.
After dinner I sat down in front of my computer with a beer (hey, I might have come up against a wall but I’m not ready to adopt straight edge just yet) and started to work out the argument in the written word; which is where I usually work things out.
Five pages into an argument with myself I wrote this line:

In a truly sane society we wouldn’t need to make laws to keep people from doing harmful things to themselves.

So, I won’t be taking a Sharpie to the backs of my hands just yet, and when I do my democratic duty (expecting, again, to be ignored) and fill out this mail-out for Mr. Van Kesteren, I will still check the box that indicates that I do not support his government’s plan. My hope for the future will just be a shade different.
In a truly sane society, it’s true, people would willingly abstain from the things that cause harm to themselves and each other. But we don’t live in a sane society. And sometimes one needs to numb oneself, sometimes one needs to escape.
Maybe one day--if we ever find ourselves in a world where fairytales aren’t justification to fly planes into buildings, where justice and vengeance aren’t directly equated, where George Bush isn’t elected to two terms, where people take sports and religion less seriously than international relations--people won’t need to medicate themselves with drugs or escape into the escapades of America’s Nest Top Model. But until then I beg the Canadian government to stop its bullshit, tough-on-crime, what-about-the-children posturing and let us get on with this dismal existence as best we can.
I’m holding out hope for a brighter day. Not much hope, and I’m not holding it out too strenuously. But that’s my escapism--that’s my meth-hit. And since I won’t take yours away, I’d ask you leave mine to me.