Gil says that 21,800,000 americans abused illegal drugs in 2009. That accounts for 8.7% of the population 12 years old and older. We at CFYSA would like to take the time to thanks all you newcomers for showing support! Old Gil is not proud of you but his pay will probably go up nine per cent as he hopelessly looks for a solution to your actions. If he ever finds a solution, his job will be terminated.
When the ranks of the unemployed were almost reaching 10%, a scant one per cent above our number, those lucky jobless bastards got all sorts of attention from Obama, Wall Street and, last but never least, the bloated american media machine. We are approaching 10% strong and Gil is disappointed. I think the best thing for Gil, but not for me, would be a good, new-fashioned anti-depressant.
The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) report that the use of anti-depressant – lets call them ‘flatline’ since it is easier to type – flatline drugs rose a whopping 48% just between 1995 and 2002, alone. Newer statistics are unavailable but I think you get the picture. As we note in a previous blog, Gil can get legal medical marijuana because he is in Washington DC with the president and all the politicians who have offices there and who can also get legal medical pot.
Ten per cent of the whole of a population is nothing to snort up, er, sneeze at, but it is still low compared to the 25% of americans who will have a major depressive episode at some time. Once they have the episode and get hooked on the flatliners, we have seen the last of their souls.
Your happily intrepid experts here at CFYSA have tried most of these terrible pills and can understand why people are so depressed. First of all, never trust a drug that you have to take for a month before you see the results. It is brainwashing. It is wiping the slate of your brain clean of emotions.
Emotions are the culprit here. We can’t deal with our emotions. Maybe that is because we fell for the american dream and it is not there anymore and we are looking at the reality of life as it will play out in our pathetic times. Emotions make us feel unpleasant things…we care for other people, get sexually aroused, interface socially in person, feel our own glad/sad/madness, think of things besides suicide, have fun, laugh, get hurt, take chances, do it all over again…all of those things which will disappoint us in the end; all those things which make us HUMAN.
It is the American Way, since British Imperialism first soiled our shores, to take away anything which allows us to feel or think for ourselves. If we do not blindly follow, we are a danger.
Did you ever see one of those tv commercials for these drugs where they tell all the side-effects at the end? They actually are selling one such flatliner that ‘can cause certain lymphomas’ in some patients. What they are saying is that the pills can give you CANCER but if we tell you first, we can get away with it…an american concept if ever there was one!
All we have to do is take the pills we are told to take every day for a month and the next you know, we are flatlining our way directly to farmville, yo-ville and all points inbetween. No need for people when we are on anti-depressants. no need for laughing or sex when The Price Is Right is on Facebook. Just the need to take our meds every day, like Nurse Ratchet tried to force on R P McMurphy in ‘One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest’ an excellent novel, written by Ken Kesey while under the influence of the fun-to-abuse drug LSD.
Kesey wrote it after ingesting very strong doses of LSD which were given to him by researchers who were trying to figure out if the CIA could use the stuff for developing ESP, extra sensory perception, and other funny brain tricks, in the agents who spy on us. It is not the story of a man. It is the lesson for american society. If you haven’t read it, please do. It is free at the library. If you have read it, then make like the Big Chief and throw that sink through the window and escape. You may not have a sink to throw but you do have a substance to abuse, if you look around.
Reality is a problem in the scenario, as well. In my office days, I worked a lot of overtime. I needed the money to buy a house, make car payments, abuse stuff and buy new clothes for work. A typical day at the office for me was 545am-6pm. That is not just a lot of work, it is a lot of reality! If I started work at 545am, then surely I was smoking a bowl at 530am, then at a 10am, then at lunch, then a 2pm break, a 5pm break when everybody was leaving, one on the way home and another after dinner.
Since I have retired from the rat race (where even if you win, you are still a rat), I no longer deal with a reality which is pressed upon me. I have my own reality. It kinda sucks, in a way, because I do not feel like getting high so much now, in my own reality. Now I do not get stoned in the morning or the afternoon, unless having a special occassion.
We all have two realities – ours and the one they start trying to pull over our eyes as soon as we get to school. We are taught to learn this and be like that so we can make it to high school. In high school, we can pick a trade or prepare for college. If you are smart you will choose a trade. People who think they are smart generally choose college prep. When they get to college, they are encouraged to do well so that they get good grades and will build a good resume and end up in a job with a Fortune 500 company that has a nice pension plan for you.
RRRRRRIIIIIINNNNNNGGGGGGGGGG – wake the feck up, people! There are no more pensions. Fortune 500 companies have become the most unstable of places to waste your lives. Even your dear author got downsized from two of them in a row, where I had worked hard, become employee of the month, put in position of authority and then ‘downsized’ because I made too much money due to all the bonuses and raises I got from working hard. There is the reality of the american dream.
The other reality, your own true reality, lives and breathes in our heart of hearts as we try to smoke, drink, exercise, pray, game, ignore and screw it out of our own conscious minds. We do this because we can’t reconcile what WE wanted to be with what they want us to become – in essence a nation of slaves that rally around the flag and stick our asses in the air to get screwed by any fatcat who has the inclination.
We do as we are told and we are told to take anti-depressants. We do that until we wake up, which is often after we are old, bitter and too tired to complain. We couldn’t complain, anyway, because that would show some emotion.
The fact still remains that we have this unbearable reality that is never going to work and it is being pushed on us. We can take the flatline pill and start to color by the numbers – OR, we can take matters into our OWN hands and abuse a nice friendly substance, like pot or maybe a nice Guinness stout or six (I’ll have the Magner’s Irish Cider, thanks). In the long run, we may feel funky for a few days, may have hangovers, may be tipsy of high – but we will be in control of our own brains. We will ‘choose our own poison’ like they said in the cowboy movies when deciding which liquor to drink.
It is all not so easy as I make it sound, and we all know that. To my east, in the great state of New Jersey, citizens passed a law about seven or eight months ago to make marijuana legal for medical use in that state. It passed through the senate and the house with no flack and the governor at the time had promised to sign it as soon as it reached his desk. He was voted out of office in the great anti-dem groundswell caused by too much liberalism and now the legal marijuana is just out of reach of patients in NJ. One such person, a young man with multiple sclerosis, was jailed for growing mj plants for his own use – after the law had passed. He was thrown in stir, where his condition rapidly deteriorated due to his illness.
The new guy in charge in NJ, Chris Christie, an over-fed parcel of pork who reminds one of ham, eggs, homefries and greasy lip-stains on a shirtsleeve, is known to voters as Governor Cartman. Literally, billions of dollars in taxes from legal pot sales are going up in potential smoke because the law was supposed to change in summer but Cartman has not seen fit to put his pen to paper as quickly as he might fork to mouth. It is not like the money matters, since last week it was reported that he lost the state $480 million because he could not be bothered with correct paperwork.
When we look around and see these things, who doesn’t feel the need to abuse something, who doesn’t want a drink? Ah-Ah-Ah! We are getting close to the forbidden zone of free thought. If you have a few drinks and mull the situation over, you may see it for what it is – better they shove a pill in your mouth so you stop thinking about this stuff. Those annoying feelings do lead to thoughts, you know, and thoughts can lead to action and that is the main reason they prefer us to flatline; they are afraid we will think and take action.
So if you feel down, try an amphetamine. We suggest the legal ones, like adderall, since you won’t get arrested for having them and in some medical communities are found to be the perfect thing for getting us up and off our asses and back into the flow of being a living, viable person again. They are a great source of energy and have gotten a bad rap. The pill is not good or bad. That is the reality trip they try to force. How we act when we take the pill is either good or bad. If you take an amphetamine and, as a consequence, drink too much because your mouth is dry, stay up all night long because you are doing something interesting or stay up all week long because you are trying to kill something inside yourself – that is the bad abuse. The good abuse is when we take our uppers and eat and sleep and exercise and feel happy because we have all the time and energy we want and are not tired.
If prone to anxiety and pot is not strong enough to overcome what the system is trying to do to us, valium or any of the benzo-diazapine family are excellent choices to cool our heels and not feel like we are being pushed to the slaughter pen. Joe Kiernan, on the stock program ‘Morning Call’ on CNBC, recently made a comment on air about how nice it is to mix oxycontin with wine. We do not suggest that but merely mention it to point out that Joe has a job that most people would kill for, has nice homes, a family, money out the wazoo and still likes to abuse the substances. Way to go, Joe. You are my favorite market analyst! You tell the truth.
Isn’t that what all this is about…truth?
Most people hate truth. If you are fighting with your lover or mate and want to get rid of them once and for all, try telling them the truth. It is usually much more vicious than anything you could make up. People hate the truth about themselves and, in so doing, build a screen of resentment against all truths.
The flatliners get packaged, prescribed, sold and swallowed. Feelings are not expressed, orgasms become extinct, eyes glaze to a nice sheen and we do what we are told when we take them. Pot makes your eyes red and takes off some of the sheen. LSD will pop them out of the sockets and wash them in a solution that allows you to see again.
Old Gil, meanwhile, is twiddling his thumbs behind a desk, down the street from a compassion center where he can buy kush or hashish and it is totally legal while our prisons are filled to capacity with people who made the mistake of having the wrong colour skin while smoking the same stuff Gil and Obama can get legally in DC. We have all seen the pics of Obama smoking pot by now, right? We have also heard of the people service LIFE sentences for simple ossession of small amounts of what the president is allowed to have legally. Is this the kind of place you want to raise shildren in?
Gil works for the government and gets paid by our taxes and can do whatever the feck he wants as long as he keeps out of the papers. He can look at his numbers and reckon percentages and spend all day worrying about ‘eroding attitudes’ being the cause for senior citizens (the quickest growing segment of potsmoking substance abusers) and twelve year olds smoking the devil’s weed.
If Gil is so disappointed, I wonder why he doesn’t take a nice anti-depressant. He is showing feelings.
Oh, yeah, he can just buy some legal pot. Way to go Gil!