(no subject)
In December of 2012 lobbyists from all the major drug companies convinced a newly elected left-wing government that it was in their best interest to legalize drugs. The government, left with an astounding deficit due to the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, bail-outs, and stimulus funding, believed it was an idea worth considering when they realized the profit margin of street drugs, and just how many tax dollars it would bring in. The guarantee of being out of debt in a matter of years rather than decades was cause for them to consider anything, and likely solidify their positions with the electorate. Convinced by the smooth talking lobbyists that crime rates would in fact decrease after they eliminated the drug running, wars, and the underground market because it put control where it should be: in the government. With a barrage of television advertising, promising parents that just as alcohol and cigarettes were regulated, so would any other recreational drug, and their children would not be tempted by street vendors and could not partake until they'd passed the age of restriction. As marijuana had already been legalized in '11 with no ill-effects on society, it was a done deal before the bells chimed midnight of '13.
37 years have gone by since the bill was passed into law, and stores were set up to sell As, Es, Blues, Coke, Crack, Smack, Ludes, Pot, Junk, and the new drugs that they invented to make you happier, sharper, more energetic, and completely at their mercy. Drugs created by the big corporations were safe, they told us, they wouldn't kill us - in fact they'd help us to not only live happier, but longer. They promised bliss, and they delivered, and for the last 20 of those 37 years we've achieved world peace, as the god of narcotics held out his monkey's paw and granted the wish of the old time beauty pageant queens.
My mother and father were straight-edges, and thus myself, and the other members of my cult - the ones who won't drink the purple kool-aid. We said no to drugs, even when they started putting them in our food, we took up on our farms and grew our own. When they saturated the water with dexchlorizol we dug our own wells, refusing the anti-depressant stimulants that the rest of the world was mixing into their infant formula. Off the grid, on the fringes of society, we've endeavoured to stay clean. We live as menonites, people that time left behind, though we do it with solar panels and wind farms to power what we need to grow safe food for our children, and drive our electric cars only to buy things we cannot make and to sell the things we can. Our little ones are kept close to our chests for fear that they'll be poisoned too, and lost to us. Like Merricka.
My daughter, my only daughter, on the eve of her 16th birthday took the car by herself for the first time and went into the city with quilts to trade for some new clothing. She was always a good child, she loved to work the land and to sew. Merricka was a happy child, a happy girl, and no one could ever say any different. It was a full week before she returned, pupils dilated, pale, and quite frankly stoned. Once they're on the dexchlorizol, there's no turning back. When Merricka started to shake and convulse, Ainsley took her back to the city rather than watch her die the painfully slow death that was inevitable. Usually their brains hemmorage from the withdrawal. She'd live fine in the city, being fed her lifeline, and set to her slave tasks by her corporate pimps.
That was a week ago, and Ainsley has not returned. First my daughter, and now my wife have been lost. I may be a lot of things, but I'm not a stupid man. If humankind survives, it'll be the last vestiges of the survival instinct that mother nature wrote into our DNA - if it too is not eventually obliterated by the drugs - that will pull us out of this mess. The whole world is happy as a clam, you can see it all over their vacant faces. How long before the entire world is drinking the purple kool-aid? How long before all the straight-edges get thirsty enough in the city to buy a can of soda, and join the ranks of the mindless?
I leave this here for any that manage to climb out of the ditches. Now I go to take my life, because I have nothing left to live for.
Hans McMurty
37 years have gone by since the bill was passed into law, and stores were set up to sell As, Es, Blues, Coke, Crack, Smack, Ludes, Pot, Junk, and the new drugs that they invented to make you happier, sharper, more energetic, and completely at their mercy. Drugs created by the big corporations were safe, they told us, they wouldn't kill us - in fact they'd help us to not only live happier, but longer. They promised bliss, and they delivered, and for the last 20 of those 37 years we've achieved world peace, as the god of narcotics held out his monkey's paw and granted the wish of the old time beauty pageant queens.
My mother and father were straight-edges, and thus myself, and the other members of my cult - the ones who won't drink the purple kool-aid. We said no to drugs, even when they started putting them in our food, we took up on our farms and grew our own. When they saturated the water with dexchlorizol we dug our own wells, refusing the anti-depressant stimulants that the rest of the world was mixing into their infant formula. Off the grid, on the fringes of society, we've endeavoured to stay clean. We live as menonites, people that time left behind, though we do it with solar panels and wind farms to power what we need to grow safe food for our children, and drive our electric cars only to buy things we cannot make and to sell the things we can. Our little ones are kept close to our chests for fear that they'll be poisoned too, and lost to us. Like Merricka.
My daughter, my only daughter, on the eve of her 16th birthday took the car by herself for the first time and went into the city with quilts to trade for some new clothing. She was always a good child, she loved to work the land and to sew. Merricka was a happy child, a happy girl, and no one could ever say any different. It was a full week before she returned, pupils dilated, pale, and quite frankly stoned. Once they're on the dexchlorizol, there's no turning back. When Merricka started to shake and convulse, Ainsley took her back to the city rather than watch her die the painfully slow death that was inevitable. Usually their brains hemmorage from the withdrawal. She'd live fine in the city, being fed her lifeline, and set to her slave tasks by her corporate pimps.
That was a week ago, and Ainsley has not returned. First my daughter, and now my wife have been lost. I may be a lot of things, but I'm not a stupid man. If humankind survives, it'll be the last vestiges of the survival instinct that mother nature wrote into our DNA - if it too is not eventually obliterated by the drugs - that will pull us out of this mess. The whole world is happy as a clam, you can see it all over their vacant faces. How long before the entire world is drinking the purple kool-aid? How long before all the straight-edges get thirsty enough in the city to buy a can of soda, and join the ranks of the mindless?
I leave this here for any that manage to climb out of the ditches. Now I go to take my life, because I have nothing left to live for.
Hans McMurty