Over at Deadspin, Will Leitch recently made a list of people who had had a particularly bad decade, or as Leitch put it, “reputations that were devastated by the last 10 years.” This list included Ricky Williams.

That list no longer has any credibility.

Sure, when Ricky Williams graduated from Texas in 1998, he was college football’s all-time leading rusher—a mark that would be passed a year later by Ron Dayne, who really deserves to be on this list but isn’t. Williams entered the NFL with high expectations, generally because Mike Ditka moronically traded the entire draft and his professional dignity to land Williams in New Orleans. Although Williams hasn’t quite lived up to those expectations, he’s still been one of the best running backs of the decade; on Thursday night, he surpassed 7,500 rushing yards since 2000, which isn’t half-bad for someone who had an “awful decade.” Ron Dayne would certainly jump at the opportunity to double his career yardage.

But there’s still the idea that Ricky Williams has been a major disappointment. Much of the resentment toward him, of course, stems less from his performance on the field than from his eccentricities off of it—namely, that Ricky Williams decided he’d rather smoke marijuana than play football for a little while. Now, I’m not going to sit here and say it was noble of Williams to retire from the game to sit at home (or in Asia) and blaze; but, is it acceptable for us to excoriate someone for leaving a professional sport that he clearly didn’t enjoy all that much—Williams’ foibles with the press are well-documented—at the same time many of us are praising Andre Agassi’s honesty in Open? What’s the difference between these two, outside of the fact that Williams was honest at the time and Agassi lied to get past the ATP’s ludicrous drug testing? Andre, you tested positive. Oh, you say you didn’t mean to? Our mistake.

They were both precocious athletes who didn’t have the same amount of passion for their sport as we want our athletes to have (within limits, of course; it retrospectively galls us when we find out how uber-competitive Michael Jordan is during his Hall of Fame speech, even though we pretty much knew it all along). Both had excellent starts to their careers; most people forget that Williams ran for a league-leading 1,853 yards in 2002, which is the 12^th-highest total of all-time.* (That same year, Williams’ Dolphins would have won the AFC East if not for what I contend is the dumbest play-calling sequence of the decade: Up three and inside his own 20 late in the fourth-quarter, Dave Wannstedt called THREE consecutive pass plays with Jay Fiedler at quarterback instead of handing off to the best running back in the league. Miami punted, the Patriots drove down and kicked a game-tying field goal and then won in overtime. The Jets ended up winning a three-way tiebreaker at 9-7 to claim the division.)

*One thing striking about that list is Tiki Barber’s late-career success. There are only six times where a running back that is at least 30 years old ran for 1,500 yards or more: Walter Payton did it twice, Corey Dillon and Curtis Martin once, and Tiki Barber did it twice. Barber ran for more yards than anyone 30 or older in history in 2005, and then the second-most yards of anyone 31 or older in history in 2006. I’m not saying Tiki Barber is a Hall of Famer; I am saying it’s a lot closer than anyone suspects.

After a down year in 2003—likely due to overuse and the “Curse of 370”—Williams retired in 2004 and then served suspensions that prevented him from being a full-time player again until 2008, when he teamed up with Ronnie Brown for one of the league’s best rushing duos. This season, the Dolphins are proving once again how an innovative rushing attack can mask weakness at the quarterback and wide receiver positions, even in an era where passing is king. Williams is an integral part of that: His 5.3 yards per carry are sixth-best in the league. It’s been an understated yet impressive comeback for Williams.

Similarly, Agassi appeared in seven Grand Slam Finals between 1990 and 1995, winning four of them. He won the Gold Medal in the 1996 Olympics, and then he kind of took 1997 off. He went 11-10, finished the year ranked 122^nd in the world, and used crystal meth. He lied about it to avoid a suspension, then came back with a vengeance in 1998-00 with the best stretch of his career, reaching the No. 1 overall ranking and winning three Grand Slams in the span of a year. Because of his comeback, we loved Andre Agassi, who was always the more charismatic foil to the bland dominance of Pete Sampras.

What’s different, then, between Williams deciding to take time off to recharge his batteries and Agassi’s essentially doing it without telling anyone (and lying about it)? Even the drug Williams used was far less harmful than Agassi’s. Why can’t we cut Ricky some slack?

• Jets Bash of the Week: The Jets are 1-6 since I instituted the Jets Bash of the Week. I win.

• Chiefs Plug of the Week: After losing 30 of 33, the Chiefs are 2-0! Haley for Coach of the Year?

• The best thing Jim Zorn has done in Washington: Wear the maroon jerseys at home more often. The worst thing* Jim Zorn has done in Washington: Wear the maroon jerseys with the maroon pants on Sunday.

*This is not the worst thing Jim Zorn has done in Washington.

• Years from now, when they’re facing off in the Super Bowl for the sixth consecutive season, we’ll remember how the Matthew Stafford/Brady Quinn rivalry started on Sunday, November 22, 2009.

• I still think Baltimore is the best team in the AFC North; I no longer think the Ravens will make the playoffs.

• So wait, maybe Denver and the Jets aren’t that good after all! And the Chiefs can still run off six more to reach my 9-7 pick!

• At the beginning of the season, I thought the Titans would go 11-5 and the Texans 9-7. One of those nine expected Houston wins came in their home Monday Nighter with Tennessee. Last week, I picked the Titans to beat the Texans, even though Houston’s season had gone more or less as I expected, and Tennessee’s had been awful. That’s how little faith I have in the Houston Texans.

• Isn’t it weird to think that the Texans have one of the longest playoff droughts in the NFL? That pretty much every team has made the playoffs since they came into the league? That most expansion teams—even historically bad ones like the Buccaneers—made the playoffs several years quicker than the Texans? That the Cleveland Browns had a similar eight-year playoff drought in the ‘90s, only Cleveland didn’t have a team for half that time? Isn’t that weird?

• Karma will get Brett Favre, and it will be spectacular when it does.

• When Jamaal Charles (how do we feel about Jamaal with that many a’s?) ran back the opening kickoff against the Steelers, I thought it was pretty amazing Pittsburgh had allowed return TDs in back-to-back weeks. Then I heard they had allowed a return TD in eight straight weeks! How does that happen? How come we didn’t make a big deal about seven in a row? Why wasn’t this a frontpage story in The New York Times? Eight? That’s insane!

• Someone on ESPN said having Thanksgiving Day games in Detroit and Dallas every year gave those teams an unfair advantage. Whoever that was forgot to back up that statement with hard statistical data, like how the two teams combined are 7-11 on Thanksgiving Day this decade, or that they’re the only two NFC teams not to win a playoff game this decade.

• Shakeups in the SBCS! The top three stay the same, but it’s getting real tight among them: New Orleans, Indianapolis, and Minnesota. With #4 Cincinnati and #5 Pittsburgh losing last week, New England and San Diego climb into the top five.

• The real question: Would a Pittsburgh win over Cincinnati in college football—to clinch a Big East title for the aforementioned Wannstedt—make up for the Steelers’ two losses to the Bengals? And would a Cincinnati win give the Queen City its greatest sports year since at least 1990?

Prior to the Week 11 Snap:

Last Week: 7-9

This Season: 61-83

DETROIT (+11) over Green Bay

This Lions team has some spunk. I’m totally on the Jim Schwartz bandwagon.

Oakland (+14) over DALLAS

I’d take Gradkowski over Romo right now.

DENVER (+6.5) over NY Giants

They won last week, but they still don’t look good.

HOUSTON (+3.5) over Indianapolis (outright)

Newfound faith in Houston! Indy can’t keep playing with fire; Andre Johnson burns them.

Cleveland (+14) over CINCINNATI

A bit much for this Bengals’ offense.

MINNESOTA (-10.5) over Chicago

It’s about time AD ran for like 400 yards in a game, right?

PHILADELPHIA (-9) over Washington

Without Portis or Betts, can’t see the Skins scoring much.

Miami (-3) over BUFFALO

AFC Wild Card Miami Dolphins. You heard it here, probably like third.

TENNESSEE (+2) over Arizona

Cards have to lose a road game sometime, don’t they?

Seattle (-3) over ST. LOUIS

The Seahawks are better than what we’ve seen.

Tampa Bay (+12) over ATLANTA

Interesting to see if Freeman can exploit that terrible Falcon secondary.

NY JETS (-3) over Carolina

They won’t make the playoffs, but this is a big game for Mark Sanchez’s confidence long-term. Needs to see a W.

Jacksonville (+3) over SAN FRANCISCO

I see a Nedney FG deciding this one.

SAN DIEGO (-13.5) over Kansas City

The two hottest teams in the AFC West!

BALTIMORE (-2.5) over Pittsburgh

Ravens need it more.

New England (+3) over NEW ORLEANS (outright)

Pats should’ve beaten Indy on the road, and Indy’s better than New Orleans.

Marijuana and other drug users are sentenced to treatment they don’t need on a regular basis.  The private addiction treatment industry thrives on the thousands of “addicts” coerced into treatment by courts. Drug courts frequently give defendants the option to take rehab or prison time. Nearly 300,000 people each year choose rehab over prison when charged with marijuana possession in Canada and the US. Marijuana is not considered an addictive drug (Addiction Myth) so why send people to rehab?

The DEA, PDFA and other anti-drug groups use these statistics to show that marijuana is addictive. From the DEA website:

In 2003, 20 per cent (185,239) of the 919,833 adults admitted to treatment for illegal drug abuse cited marijuana as their primary drug of abuse.

Very few of those sentenced to rehab need or want treatment. In fact the US Department of Health and Human Services admits that 37% of nearly 300,000 people who entered drug treatment for cannabis in 2007 had not reported using the drug in the 30 days previous to their admission (detailed pie chart). The corporations that run addiction treatment facilities like all corporations only care about making money. Many addiction centres have unqualified staff who are members of the program themselves.

Source: 2002 SAMHSA Treatment Episode Data Set (TEDS).

This graph shows marijuana admissions compared to other drugs. It is clear which ones are addictive (Opiates, Cocaine I’m looking at you). Check out this graph showing the sources of rehab program admission in the US: Pie Chart

Rehab centres promote the disease model of addiction. This method ignorantly assumes that drug addiction can be treated as an illness. And the illness led people, through no fault of their own, to problematic substance abuse. Through this model blame on the addict is minimized and the importance of medical treatment is emphasized. You don’t here anyone telling an AIDS patient to “Snap out of it” or “Go cold turkey”. Addiction is not caused by bacteria, virus, or genes as real diseases are. For centuries addiction was treated as a demonic possession. It was assumed that addiction was the cause of possession by evil spirits. Treatments included exorcism and trepanation (drilled holes in addicts head to release the demons). It is clear to us now why the evil spirits model was abandoned but the disease model is not much better. Major drawbacks include increased risk of relapse and dependance on medical treatments. It is easy to see why the rehab industry likes this model.

One rehab company, Narconon, is actually run by the church of Scientology.  It is basically a recruiting program for the church.  Patients spend from $10,000 to $30,000 and spend 3 to 4 months at Narconon facilities (Sources link1, link2).  Another company Straight inc. used a very aggressive approach to drug rehabilitation. They would continually humilate patients and used brainwashing techniques.  Over 40 suicides have been committed in Straight facilities.  Hundreds of cases of physical, mental and sexual abuse eventually led to Straight Inc going out of business.  From Wikipedia:

The Fairfax, Virginia location was cited and shut down for 76 violations of client’s rights, including, but not limited to educational neglect, sleep, food and water deprivation, unlawful physical restraints, inadequate medical care, lack of trained or qualified staff, and allegations of non-reported sexual and physical abuse that resulted in paid lawsuits to several former clients. Many former patients of Straight have formed ’survivor groups’ assembling themselves in small numbers seeking a means to understand the trauma suffered and supporting one another in grasping the reality of what happened in their lives.

Several clones of Straight Inc popped up after it was sued out of existence. One such facility Alberta Adolescent Recovery Center (AARC) in Calgary, Alberta is still in operation. AARC uses a controversial “tough love” approach which involves humiliation, constant confessions and confrontational therapy. Graduates and near graduates of the AARC program, called “peer councillors”, handle many of the sessions. Internet, TV, reading and calendars are banned. Patients are continually broken down until they admit that they have a disease. All this for $50,000 per year.

One young woman was admitted to AARC and labelled a “stage 4 addict” when she wasn’t addicted to any drugs. She was abused daily and raped once. Rachel escaped after 5 months and later came forward to the media and police. Several former AARC patients have reported physical and sexual abuse. (Article, “Powerless” Documentary)

Drug problems for most of human history have been treated as bad habits similar to chewing your fingernails.  That is really what an addiction is.  Early in the twentieth century beginning in the United States the medical industry stepped in and declared addiction a medical condition.  This gave power and money to medical communities.  Other human troubles have been dragged into the medical realm as well.  Overmedicalization seems to have taken Western society hostage. There are real drug addicts out there who need help; chose your help carefully. Sending people to rehab just to create statistics does not help anyone.

• http://oas.samhsa.gov/TEDS2k7highlights/TEDSHighl2k7Tbl4.htm
• http://oas.samhsa.gov/2k5/MJreferrals/MJreferrals.htm
• http://www.justice.gov/dea/marijuana_position.html#dependency_treatmen
• http://www.cbc.ca/canada/story/2009/02/13/abuse.html
• http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Narconon
• http://norml.org/index.cfm?Group_ID=7997
• The Myth of Mental Illness: Foundations of a Theory of Personal Conduct, Szasz, 1961
• Madness and Civilization, Faucault 1973

Hey Gang,

For Turkey Day 2009 I figured what better way to celebrate here at The Trash Cinema Collective than with the 1972 Anti-Drug, Pro-Christian, Mutant Killer Turkey film…Blood Freak!

That’s right, hold onto Plymouth Rock and prepare yourself for horrendous audio, unintelligible mumbling, bio-hazardous turkey meat, real life turkey decapitation, bible thumpers in red hot pants, sibling rivalry, turkey poking, mutant sex, cock blockage, a God live ever present narrator, the complimentary use of the term “husky”, real life amputees, lots of screaming, copious blood squirting, and poultry rage!

This episode wouldn’t have been possible without the indispensable help of Team Trash Cinema: Erica Andrus, Justin Falco and Terrius Greene whose performances bring this Thanksgiving Holiday Special to life. Thanks again, gang!

Have a Happy Thanksgiving and Stay Trashy!

-The Primal Root

«Non siamo mica spacciatori». Due notti di follia italiana, inutile detenzione, ordinario intasamento di celle. Una coppia di coniugi. Colpevoli di rilassarsi davanti alla tv

Stiamo tornando a casa.Abbiamo passato una bellissima giornata, tutto procede con fatica ma per il meglio. Vale e Gianluca sono andati a vedere una casetta e il prezzo accessibile. Gaietta ha esibito le nuove parole appena imparate, Jaco ha a trovato un appartamentino da condividere per frequentare l’università a Roma. Un cliente ci ha appena commissionato alcune vetrate, lo stipendio di novembre. Appena svoltato per una strada di collegamento per la Cassia, veniamo fermati da una pattuglia dei carabinieri.
Cintura allacciata, velocità 50 km/h. Lucidi: quando lavoriamo o viaggiamo ci teniamo. «Buonasera, è un trasloco?» «Buonasera, le scatole che vede sono i depliant per promuovere il nostro lavoro». «Patente e libretto». È sempre difficile dare una buona impressione se si ha una treccia, un orecchino. L’agente prende i documenti, sale sulla vettura dell’arma. Il precedente per coltivazione di marijuana ad uso personale, che ci ha visto assolti in fase processuale, è una miccia lenta. «Signora, favorisca i documenti anche lei». «Trasportate qualcosa di illecito?» «No, non siamo mica spacciatori, come avrà avuto modo di sapere, siamo solo consumatori di marjuane». «Procediamo con il test». Spiego all’agente che noi amiamo fumare uno spinello la sera, ci rilassiamo davanti alla tv. Il test risulterebbe comunque positivo, avendo fumato la sera prima. «Se rifiuta di fare il test ci deve seguire in caserma». «Io non vorrei rifiutare, ma se mi dite che il rischio è il ritiro della patente ed il sequestro della macchina, non vedo altra scelta». E così, io nell’auto dei carabinieri e Marisa nella nostra condotta dall’altro agente, arriviamo nella caserma di Barbarano Romano. Domande di rito, finta amichevolezza. «Si spogli… anche gli slip…si giri e si fletta». Mi sento umiliato. Chiaramente non ho niente, niente in macchina, ma… dalla borsa di Marisa esce fuori 1 (una) cannetta. Da lì a decidere di fare 100 chilometri per venire a perquisire la nostra abitazione è un attimo. «A casa cosa avete?» Non mi sento un criminale. «Poche piante in coltivazione artificiale». Risultato della perquisizione: 2 piante in fioritura alte 1 metro, altre 4 di 30 centimetri e 12 piantine di 3 centimetri.
Dopo 7 ore di via crucis, ci arrestano. Mari ed io ci abbracciamo. Verbali, foto segnaletiche, impronte «Ma come potete trattarci come se fossimo criminali? Non beviamo superalcolici, piantiamo un po’ di marijuana per non dover mischiare la nostra correttezza con i mercati illeciti»
Mari viene trasferita a Civitavecchia, io a Grosseto. E il lavoro? La casa, i figli, i cani? «Potevate pensarci prima». Ma prima di cosa? Non eravamo alterati alla guida e avevamo solo una cannetta dispersa, non siamo né assassini, né ladri, né trafficanti.
A Grosseto le guardie carcerarie mi accolgono con gentilezza. Arrivo in isolamento, cella n.7. Non riesco neanche ad essere preoccupato, tanto è assurda tutta la storia, soffro solo per Marisa. La cella: una branda attaccata al muro con le lenzuola bicolori e non a causa del naturale ingiallimento del cotone. Un bugliolo screziato di marrone, un lavabo spartano, un comodino, un tavolo e una sedia. Sono stremato, ho un freddo cane. Mi butto sulla branda, penso a Mari, sperando che non subisca inutili umiliazioni. Non si dorme, sembra di subire in continuazione piccole scosse elettriche. Ce la farà l’avvocato a tirarci fuori domani? Ma domani è già oggi. Il cielo dalla finestra a più di due metri di altezza è un triangolino di 10 per 5.
Provo a rimanere sdraiato ancora un po’ per rubare un po’ di tempo. Sento dei passi, una guardia penitenziaria si affaccia dalle sbarre, mi guarda e poi mi chiede se ho bisogno del Sert. Mi sento sporco, cerco di rassettarmi come posso, una pettinata, una lavata sotto le ascelle, non ho dentifricio e di sapone neanche a parlarne.
Sento rumore di stoviglie e un un ragazzo detenuto si affaccia e mi chiede se voglio un po’ di caffè. È da ieri che non metto in bocca niente. Dopo un po’ arriva un’altra guardia e mi chiede se tutto va bene. È possibile avere un libro? «Penso di sì». Incredibile, mi porta è Arcipelago Gulag” di Solzenicyn: primo capitolo: l’arresto.
Passa lo spesino, ma io non ho ancora disponibilità di spesa, gli chiedo una sigaretta e mi regala un paio di Marlboro, un secondino me ne regala un altro paio e i detenuti che non ho ancora conosciuto, quando la guardia chiede se hanno qualche sigaretta per me, me ne fanno arrivare cinque rollate a mano.
Non so che ore sono, forse le 16, dal triangolino vedo che si fa buio.Devo prepararmi al momento peggiore, quando l’unica luce sarà quella lassù in alto, al neon. Mi hanno appena detto che l’interrogatorio del Gip ci sarà domani mattina. «Mari, amore mio, come stai?» Guardo la cella un’altra volta, le misure sono 4×2, una parete è piena di scritte. Una elenca 54 modi di chiamare la vagina. Un’altra dice di evitare il Frignone perché è un infame. Sopra il letto c’è una scritta molto grossa, è marrone, fatta con un dito sporco di sangue o …merda e dice: «mi ano arestato – marco 15 eroina. E io che c’entro con questa gente? Provo a leggere un altro po’, forse un’ora la freghiamo. Sento da una cella la sigla del Tg1, la giornata è passata.
È strano parlare da cella a cella: «Ehi tu laggiù, ciao, io sono Giordano, te le ho mandate io le sigarette. Stai tranquillo per tua moglie, Civitavecchia è un buon carcere. Stasera ti porto io la cena». Gli dico che non ce la faccio a mangiare, almeno non dovrò usare il bugliolo. Mi bastano due clementine. Neanche 5 minuti e sul tavolo ne ho un piatto pieno.
La luce è troppo forte e non ho sonno. Mi sdraio comunque. Forse mi assopisco. Con il chiaro, i rumori dei chiavistelli, e i passi pesanti nel corridoio. Arriva una guardia: «Cecconi alle 9 in tribunale». Passi nel corridoio, rumori di chiavi, aprono la cella, andiamo verso il destino. Dopo un breve parcheggio in una cella all’aperto tipo zoo, vengo perquisito, ammanettato e condotto sul furgone che mi porterà in tribunale.
Nessuno dei tre agenti penitenziari mi rivolge la parola. Arriviamo, il tribunale è deserto, è sabato. Ci sono le mie splendide sorelle, i miei straordinari cognati, i nostri insuperabili figli e il mio simpaticissimo genero, hanno tutti l’aria preoccupata, d’altronde con la barba incolta e trasportato come un barboncino al guinzaglio non faccio una buona impressione.
Sorrido a tutti, e strizzo l’occhio «mi dispiace avervi creato questa preoccupazione per una cosa così idiota, ma credetemi non è colpa mia». Mando il messaggio telepatico, spero che qualcuno lo riceva, ma già lo sanno, nessuno di loro fuma, ma sanno chi siamo.
Intravvedo Mari già nell’aula in attesa di essere interrogata, gli sguardi si incorciano un sorriso mesto. Mi ritrovo di nuovo parcheggiato in una stanzetta, sento che Marisa viene interrogata. Tocca a me. Portano via Marisa. Io e Marisa non abbiamo nulla da nascondere e le risposte concordano. Fanno rientrare Mari. Il nostro avvocato motiva il nostro modo di vivere e la nostra lealtà. Tutti in piedi, la sentenza: «Il processo si farà, ma gli imputati sono liberi fin da ora». Gli agenti ci permettono di abbracciarci e per due secondi sembra più una festa di matrimonio che un processo.

Giancarlo Cecconi

Il Manifesto

If it don’t look like this, you’re doing it wrong.

According to Democracy Now, Portland, Oregon has a new pot cafe called appropriately  enough, The Cannabis Cafe.

The shop opened up earlier this month (November, 2009), and although they do not sell Pot, they allow medically licensed marijuana smokers to enjoy a pull at the joint or pipe in a nice, relaxing environment.

Well, let’s see how long this place lasts!

Check out the original post HERE

While writing, I was listening to:

Reverend Horton Heat – Holy Roller – It’s Martini Time

Found this link while reading Reddit this afternoon and thought I should post it here.

It’s a poster with some sage advice on how to smoke Pot and avoid giving your secret away.

There is actually some really good advice here that if paid attention to will actually go a long way to keeping you out of the local slammer!

Hope you enjoy it:

http://i.imgur.com/2PcUX.gif

I was listening to:

Roky Erickson – The Evil One – I Think Of Demons

November 24, 2009 – I’ve written about medical marijuana so often in the last couple years my mother must think I’m sitting around stoned out of my gourd half the time. The fact is, I don’t even like the stuff. Then again, I don’t much like the smell of Tiger Balm on my own skin but the benefits are well worth the odor when arthritis hits.

I’m a firm believer in old wives’ tales and various schools of holistic medicine. I believe that too many of our children are over medicated with synthetic drugs in order to keep them tractable or comforted. I’m also not one bit shocked that a family in Southern California is having great success with their troubled and autistic child due to the use of medical marijuana.

Recently, their autistic child was on 13 types of medication. He was acting out violently and literally starving himself to death due to a complete lack of appetite. Today, the child is on 3 types of medication, one to be used only as needed, and another that he’s being weaned off of. He’s beginning to show signs of actual verbal communication. The little boy is calm and sociable. He’s also put on a few pounds and is eating like a healthy child again. How is this possible? Through the consumption of a single pot brownie approximately the size of a quarter, administered once every three or four days. The child’s parents are surprised and thrilled.

A large portion of the medical community is not exactly standing behind the family or the family’s doctor who prescribed the medical marijuana. The arguments against it are primarily that there are concerns about giving marijuana to a child and that it hasn’t been tested for results regarding autism. Rather than ask why this mother is feeding her kid a fraction of a pot brownie instead of 13 ineffective pills a day, they ought to look at the results in the case and ask themselves why the heck they aren’t out there testing this today.

The parents have had to listen to comments such as, “Oh, you’re just getting your kid stoned so you don’t have to put up with him.” Right. A quarter-sized brownie wouldn’t keep a chipmunk stoned for three days. This is the reaction of a childless nitwit. When your own child goes through an ordeal and faces a very real possibility of death, you’ll do anything to help your child. Petty criticism doesn’t make a dent in a mom’s determination to save her baby, no matter how old that baby may be. A dad will knock down a gauntlet of pooh-poohers if they stand in the way of his child’s salvation. If my kid was dying and the only option I hadn’t yet pursued was a big old opium pipe, I’d light one up for him. When parents are afraid for their children, they will grasp at any straw. What a blessing when one of the straws actually works.

The Mayo Clinic has done research on the beneficial effects of medical marijuana on chemo patients. The results were overwhelmingly positive. Prior to the research, it was “privately tested.” The results were so good that it caught the attention of credible research groups. Here we have a case that merits exploration, and the torch bearers and pitchfork wavers are ready to camp on some poor mother’s doorstep rather than say, “Wow, this could help a lot of kids!” By Lily Robertson. Source.

I think I need bigger pockets so I can carry a notepad and a pen. Actually no. I think I want to be one of those people who needs bigger pockets so they can carry a notepad and a pen. I wish I were one of those people. Pretentious faux-artiste hipster sheik? Bleh. I have ideas and sometimes I wish I could write them down. But I’m pretty sure if I ever actually had the opportunity to do so I probably couldn’t be bothered. And I’d end up going home, looking through the notes thinking this is all terrible and cry myself to sleep. Or maybe I just want a notebook because I still have that misguided disbelief that material possessions will assist my process. I remember when I was 11 I thought that once I got a computer in my room I would be some creative demi-god and burn out tomes of elegant prose every day.

Ah how time makes fools of us all… Moving on.

I think I should just go ahead and scan the Stuff Book. Stick it on the internet or print copies for the masses. It’s the most popular thing I have ever created. Specifically, the big binder book I carry to every class to scribble in instead of doing work. And I had people gathering around in Drama today to flip through the damn thing. It’s got a better viewership than anything I’ve ever tried to produce. Hence my thesis – I should never try at anything. I’ll screw it up. Best just to get a job doing the cartoons for any newspaper willing to put giant melting lizards to print.

I think I should be doing science revision right now. I have exams the day after tomorrow. Will probably do reasonably on science. Hums I will crash and burn. Math… Urgggh… And I tactfully managed to skip English via Bali. So far teacher hasn’t noticed.

I never mentioned Bali to you kids did I? I go away for a week and garner a truckload of amusing anecdotes about Mr. Swastika and the wild marijuana plants. And you’re never going to hear a word of it. Just cuz I’m spiteful like that. I have now very thoroughly disappointed three people. Suck it those guys.

I think this post has taken on a really poppy 14-year-old-girl tone. It’s anecdotal again, which feels unclean. Also I can’t seem to go a paragraph without hating on myself. It’s Isaac-is-a-Whiny-Bitch week everyone. Didn’t mind the first paragraph, thought that might be going somewhere. Nope. Ah well.

Ooooh meta!

Aah I’m probably just tired. Which is stupid because I’ve been sleeping tons recently. However many months of getting 4-6 hours a night tops, and suddenly I’m going to bed at 10. I yawn all day, and yet I don’t feel like I’m going to die. Still get about as much work done as normal. Think my sleep-debt is finally calling in the taxes? That’s my theory. I don’t know enough about sleep to figure it out. Someone’s slipping melatonin into my toast?

Ach. Seriously though. Unclean. I swear I won’t post again until I’ve got something to say. Maybe I’ll do one of those Drabble things. They kinda fell out didn’t they? I’ve gotten about as much writing practice this year as a mourning porpoise. Ah well. I’ll do something.

Just read an article about Narconon, a two-phase, Drug Rehab Program, with a distinct series of steps to help drug recovery.  Drug addiction not only destroys the lives of the person using the drugs, but also has a huge impact on the family and friends of that person.  Many people do not know where to turn to get help for those they love when it comes to drug addiction.  Drug addicts generally withdraw from the people who know and love them.  This alone is one of the biggest problems that the drug abuser suffers and further increases the users need for drugs creating a catch 22.