Two of the most prominent Tea Parties in Butler County, Ohio had a meeting at one of my favorite places, the Elk’s Club which overlooks Trenton to discuss the pros and cons of the upcoming marijuana legalization vote in November. I couldn’t make it as I had another engagement, but I wanted to go. Sheriff Jones was there along with others and I would have liked to been there to express my opinion. So I’ll give it now for posterity–for those who wonder where I stand on the issue. I am dead-set against the legalization of marijuana for any use—even for a rope. I hate the product in every form possible. I hate the shape of the leaves, I will not buy anything with hemp in it, and I hate the smell. More than once I have been in physical confrontations with people just for smoking it near me, which I promise will happen more often if it becomes legal. I hate the stuff in every form that it was created.
I do not support medical marijuana. If I was in pain and needed some chemical from marijuana to have relief from the pain, then it is time to die. I say that as I have had a broken wrist and ankle for the last two months, still competed in my summer bullwhip competitions, rode a bicycle for exercise 24 miles most of those days and I have not once taken an aspirin for the pain. So I sure as hell won’t be smoking or injecting anything from marijuana into my body ever for any reason. Pain I can deal with. A corrupt substance that brings out the worst of the human race I want nothing to do with. I HATE POT. And I hate people who use pot, who think about pot, or justify pot. There are better scientific methods for dealing with illness; medical marijuana is not one of them. It is a pathetic ingredient for weak people.
I have managed to get along ok with people who have used marijuana in the past. People make mistakes. I never used it. I have always had a hard-line against it all through my high school years. I had girl friends that used it, I lost friends to it, but they never, ever, ever consumed marijuana in my presence—ever. It was always a major no, no as a predicate for my friendship, and those who forced me to pick between friendship with them and marijuana learned quickly that I meant it when I said I would never speak to them again if they used it after knowing me. And I did not compromise on that prerequisite at any point in my life. There are a lot of people who are stupid when they are teenagers. They grow up a bit by their late twenties. In their thirties they start to regret being so stupid. And by the time they are in their forties, they are alright; I can begin to forgive them for their past transgressions involving pot. But I always look at them as a bit tainted. I don’t hold it against them in the fashion that they can’t erase their past mistakes, but because they chose to do it at some point in their life, it does have an impact on my assessment of their personal value.
For that reason, most of my best friends are well of 60 years of age. That is because most people my own age have at least tried pot at some point in their life. I get along plenty well with younger people, but I don’t have very many close associates because of my feelings toward pot. I can be friendly with people who are users—especially business friendly—but anyone who uses marijuana even for medical reasons I have little respect for. Some people grow up and mature away from pot and I treat them fairly. But always in the back of my mind look at them as a personality that was susceptible to its use—and that is an alarm flag to me.
I don’t care that the Indians (Native Americans) used pot. To my mind, that’s why they were so easily defeated by a bunch of people who came from Europe and stole their land from them. Smoking pot, peace pipes, and their entire drug induced shaman tricks are some of the reasons their culture has failed. Their foundations of earth worship and tribal nonsense centering on collectivism is disgusting to me. Dances with Wolves was a great movie by Kevin Costner, but the premise of it is rather ridiculous. The Sioux were slaughtered because they were a collectivist culture and pot is the chosen recreation among those types of people, because it turns off the individual mind, lowers the walls of personal sanctity, and introduces collective consciousness.
When I learned that Ayn Rand was willing to smoke pot to prove she was open-minded, it had an impact on how much I was willing to take her work seriously. I think she did great work, which eventually led to the basic foundations of the current libertarian political philosophy, but her comments about pot limit how seriously I regard her. And the same is true of libertarians. I am not one. When I hear the name I think of pot, so I could never be a libertarian. I don’t want my neighbor smoking pot in their back yard because I don’t want to smell the shit blowing around in the air anywhere near me.
Now the typical pot user would tell me, as they have for over four decades, that I need to “mellow” out, that I’m twisted up too tightly about too many topics—that I need to “loosen up.” Well, it’s not going to happen. I like who I am, and part of that is that I have never used pot, I’ve stood against it, and I am completely clean to have such an opinion. I have nieces and nephews who have used it and I don’t compromise on their behalf. It does change the way I see them. It saddens me to know that the bright little kids that they used to be were crushed into oblivion by the peer pressure use of pot. I still care for them, but I don’t respect them. That is the cost of using pot, and me finding out about it.
Many would say that I have an impossibly high standard. That may be. But I’m fine with that. When my wife and I were younger we knew a couple who were newly married who got severely stoned on their honeymoon, and I was a serious stick in the mud over the issue, which put a tremendous amount of pressure on our relationship at home, because I was virtually the only person who felt so strongly about such things that my wife knew. Everyone else, parents included were much more accepting of it. My position was that I’d rather be single and alone for the rest of my life than to ever try marijuana. In other wedding parties while everyone else was relishing in drunkenness and drug induced stupor I have always been the square one that didn’t partake in the mindless orthodox of collective numbness. And I am very proud of that.
With all that known, it should be clear what my position on legalizing pot in Ohio is. I’m not a live and let live type of person like libertarians are advocating. I’m not one who proposes more laws either. But in regard to marijuana, it is illegal now, and I’m fine with keeping it that way. It is a drug that I have observed makes people stupid. It destroys minds before they are fully grown—by the age of 25—and handicaps them for life. I don’t care what a government study group says in support of hemp, pot, marijuana, or even medial use of the THCs in the pot plant. I hate pot, I don’t find anything funny about Cheech and Chong’s movies. Pot is just bad. It’s stupid to smoke it, it’s weak to want it, and it’s a huge negative to a culture of any kind that uses it in any form. People should love to think, to be aware, and to live freely under their own ambitions. They should not want to numb themselves for any reason even under sickness. Life is meant to be lived and drugs alter that life. The Indians were wrong in their use. Every musician, actor, or pop culture idol is wrong in their avocation of it. There is nothing good that comes from pot and I’ve watched the behavior for a long time. Since I’ve been free of its use, I can speak clearly, and with certainty as to its evils. Pot has no place in a culture that anticipates that it should be ambitious, and forwarding thinking. Being comfortably numb, as the Pink Floyd song has advocated for years is not an honorable position. It’s the position of a weak and self-destructive personality that has little to offer existence except for excuses.
VOTE NO against the vile, despicable marijuana use in Ohio, in any and all forms. Vote HELL NO!