Drugs – bad, good and beautiful

Drugs – they’re bad, arent they? Bad, bad, bad! Unless you like taking them, that is. Then, they’re good. Unless you’re an addict. Then it’s bad.

(Or you’re a regular user in a relationship with a non-user. Can be bad. Talk to them. Consider your priorities. Consider your partner.)

Take cannabis, though. Little weed. Flower pot, man. I mean, actually take it. Occasionally. Wow. It’s good. It’s a beautiful plant – with great healing potential. But it’s illegal. That’s bad.

It can heal. Halelujah! Jah provide the herb. The herb can cure, for instance, chemotherapy-related nausea. Many governments have legalised medicinal use.

So medicinal use is good. Unlike that bad old recreational use. True, some governments have legalised recreational use, but it’s still medicinal use’s bad brother.

Heres the thing, though: recreational use is medicinal. It can cure, for instance, existential nausea.

Have you read Sartre’s Nausea? Me neither. But I know what I think he means: Stuff. The world. It makes you sick. Have a toke. It helps you tick.

It can break you out of your autistic bubble and show you the world as a better place. It can even give you a gnostic pantheistic experience.

(Adults only. Allistic kids: just say No! You know Nancy Reagan was right! You don’t need it, and It’ll f**k up your school studies. Perhaps we don’t need no education, but until that happy day comes – you do.)

(And, yes, I know: some people with a predisposition to serious mental illness can be tipped over the edge by cannabis. The strong ‘skunk‘ variety which is virtually all you can get these days can dislocate you from ‘reality’ – and for those people, that’s dangerous, especially in the context of UK prohibition.)

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