Friday night in ‘Burque found five young friends kickin’ it to a slower groove, after security has busted up our party on account of someone else’s music. The host reclined, saddened by our communal loss, and consoled himself with a well-taken hit from a festively colored bowl. Sinking into a chemical calm, he found the serenity to accept that the evening could only improve from this dark chapter.
My friend stuffed his bowl in his pocket and answered the door. Two thugs, clad in black and sporting loaded weapons, further decimated the evening’s feel-good vibe by barging, sans invite, into the sanctity of a couple’s home.
“Where’s the weed, and whose smokin’ it?” one of the villains demanded, at which point the host surrendered his stash with a look of true defeat.
“Pretty low-grade,” the hooligan chirped mockingly, with a smugness so tacit as to bolster itself in its own presence.
“Yeah, we’re kinda broke, man.” the host lamented as they divested him of even this meager offering.
“If you’re so broke,” one countered, “why are you spending your money on weed?”
There was no pretense of respect: he had the gun, he had superiority; and he had the gall to enforce further mockery upon my beaten friend. Truly, this man was an ass of epic proportion.
“Either I’m addicted, or I just like it too much,” he replied, dejected and beyond defense. They left us then, to the pangs of poverty and buzzkill as the night wore on.
Now, the question we all have to ask ourselves is: is this the sort of behavior that we as a populace are willing to accept from officers of the law?
That’s right: la policia, Big Brother, the fuzz had entered an innocent man’s home and taken by force that which is, by the rights of morality, patriotism, and civil disobedience, his private property. If someone had done the same without a badge, I would have been well within my rights to take the fucker’s kneecap and watch him crawl on home; but because this act of theft was perpetrated behind the paternalist bully-system of America’s executive branch, such action would’ve seen me in fetters. What I wouldn’t have given for diplomatic immunity and a baseball bat.
I am not drawing this analogy to encourage violence against police. I do believe that, amongst the moralistic oafs and badged thieves that incite situations like this one, there are a good number of good cops. In point of fact, I may personally owe quite a bit to one in particular, who took the time and interest in the legal plight of a college kid to talk me out of throwing my future away on anger and vengeance. Be that as it may, I stand that, had I or any of my colleagues managed to break these individuals before they could fire, the action would have been both justified and courageous (if perhaps imprudent, from a survivalist perspective.) Before we blame the police, however, perhaps we must also blame ourselves.
We live in a democracy, a democracy in which many of us are attempting to regain faith. It is, in theory, the actions and ideas of a free people which will constitute our principles in the years to come, principles amongst which personally liberty is often cited, if only long enough to be discarded at the hands of an overtly Puritan and thankfully dying ethic.
If we speak of marijuana (and I stress, other drugs as well) as secretive or criminal, then an uneducated populace will necessarily come to view them as such. Give the people a bit of D.A.R.E. and fear-mongering, and the myths will all but propagate themselves. But if we our honest, with ourselves and our fellow citizens, then the volume of our outrage can only be amplified by the abuses which so tirelessly assail our common liberty.
I smoke marijuana. This does not make me, or you, or anybody else a bad person, and it does not give capitalist bullies on machismo trips just cause to violate the sanctity of our homes, the security of our interests, or the Fourth Amendment of our Constitution.
I wish here to speak in the promotion of freedom, and not of violence. But whatever anger failed to find my actions on that night must find our pens, our voices, and our spirits; lest the menace of paternalism run unchecked. If the government can waste our time, our money, and our lives on smoking guns, the average citizen should never be without recourse when the barrel’s pointed squarely at his own doorstep.
Redpillneo is a contributing writer for projectgroupthink.wordpress.com. Get instant updates for this blog via Twitter: PGTblog.