Tuesday, June 07, 2005
One Toke Over The Thin Blue Line
C'mon your honors, put down your cocktails and do the right thing for a change.
So, let's just say you're sicker than the proverbial dog with cancer or HIV. It seems sometimes like the potential cure is worse then the disease itself. Your physician tells you your best bet to ease your discomfort is marijuana, which might even be legal for medical use in your state. Not wanting to run afoul of any laws, however, you decide to grow your own ganja on your own property, use it in the privacy of your own home, and never allow one solitary bud to leave your property for any reason. You ain't Pablo Escobar or George Jung. Hell, you're not even Jerry Garcia or Ricky Williams. You're just one greviously ill mo-fo looking for some herbal relief. You're in no danger from The Man, right?
Think again.
The Supreme Court has now ruled that, regardless of what your doctor or even your state government says, backed-up old fart Ashcroftian federal prosecutors can stll come after your ass.
Well, no one can blame the Republicans for this one. The leading dissenter was Clarence "who put a pubic hair in my Coke?" Thomas, who wrote the minority opinion. He is joined in dissent by Sandra Day O'Connor - who has been voted "Hottest Supreme Court Justice", finishing just ahead of Ruth Bader Ginsberg. Both O'Connor and Thomas are noted conservatives who were appointed by Republican Presidents.
The good news for proponents of medical marijuana, of which I happen to be one, is that John Paul Stevens indicated in his majority opinion that Congress could change the law to accomodate medical marijuana. Don't hold your breath (so to speak) on that one, because the bad news is that there's still a few too many Frists, Santorums, Hagels, and Allens running the show right now. Those dudes will support medical marijuana right after they vote for gun control and a woman's right to choose.
This Crime Dog doesn't use the stuff. No need for it. I get high just walking on the beach with The Fetching Mrs. Crime Dog. But if I or some member of my family, God forbid, ever has a medical need for a doobie, then Ashcroft or Gonzales, or whoever else is in charge better just expect an ass-whuppin' if they show up at my door to take it away.
Well, at least as much of an ass-whuppin as a sick ol' stoner can dish out.
