Originally Published: https://web.archive.org/web/20110717093809/https://theweedblog.com/twb-commentary-who-were-you-thinking-of-on-memorial-day/
I write this piece with Memorial Day in mind, a day that we as Americans remember those who have died or suffered in past wars. Instead of thinking of past victims of foreign wars, I think of present victims of an ongoing war. Instead of thanking my uncle or grandfather, brother, or even myself, I think of and then the likes of the Marc Emerys and Eddy Lepps of our world.
I think of how this drug war has become us vs. them (my government is one of them) because of D.E.A. raids gone bad like the one in Missouri or even Arizona. And I think of normal (but what is normal?) people who wake up every morning, go to work, do their job, then go home to smoke a joint or two, and then of the guy who brought them their weed.
The weed bringer is the same, except who’s got his back? Ever wonder how many people are serving time just for selling pot or have lost scholarships or any other opportunity due to a conviction? I do. When your crime is no more severe than not being like the rest, I worry about the weed man’s way of life.
I’ve spent my Memorial Day smoking something called “Fucking Incredible” and doing horrible things; like playing catch with my boys, doing laundry, picking up dog shit, letting the wife do homework, and other awful things like watching Doctor Who and Red Dwarf with my kids; Its than I wonder why is this thing called a weed is so horrific. Trillions spent against and only hundreds of thousands for, truth is priceless.
I smoke lots of pot, so by law, I’m a terrible person. I’m not flawless, though; I’m an outspoken poetic misogynist that can’t pay his bills on time, who is a significant provider to his family and doesn’t mind being broke all the time as long as he has some weed, beer, and a highspeed connection. My kids are fed and happy; that’s all I worry about.
Recently the worse three days have gone by in my life spent in jail for some bullshit. Now the state can keep me away from my family – I’ve never been helpless before and don’t like it; the system has failed this time. Three days not as a person but your last name, like in the military. Three days subject to someone else’s will for a phone call or T.V., three shitty days.
I understand madness a little more clearly now and a little more paranoid. The rage I’m referring to is that non-sensical violence bullshit that happens every day—random acts of unkindness that lead to frustration and anger that no one can control. The paranoia of police has been instilled in me just by being a minority, my families’ interactions with them can explain that part, but my recent stay has made me all the more adamant on why drug laws need to be changed.
Recently, I was incarcerated for three days for a not crime; imagine 3 yrs or 30. There is something wrong with making a person feel defenseless. The only thing I was in control of was myself. You first wake up (with a hangover, most likely) not knowing if anyone knows where you are. Hungover (once again, have you been drinking?) and pissed you wonder what’s next (provided you’ve never done some shit that got you here before). From what I gather, nothing happens on Saturdays as everyone recovers from the night before.
That night before is something else, though, hours handcuffed in a holding cell as you have one of those itches you can’t get to? Then a police van ride on a hard plastic seat you don’t mind ’cause your drunk with a little stoned.
During processing, you’re just hoping for a place to sleep but are instead directed to a room with about nine other drunk/bloody/stoned/meth’d out motherfuckers. In this other holding cell, you see all kinds of crazy shit; two dumb Russians that got peppered sprayed for trying to outrun the cops or the Jeffrey Dahmer-looking motherfucker that was escorted to a personal cell.
Everyone’s innocent before guilty, but I don’t think so, in a world where a person can do time for smoking a joint and handing it off to an undercover who was looking for some – these weren’t my charges, but there was a feminine black guy from Atlanta whose was.
Jail is meant to punish real criminals and bad guys, not guys who get into loud arguments with their wives (like me) or people involved with marijuana.
All wars are failed wars, but the war on drugs, in particular, is homegrown terrorism. Every day a decent human being just trying to provide for a family is taken away from them. From people they love, from a world, they know. And the war on drugs spreads around the world as America sets the example.
The drug war is a failed war because its imprisons senior citizens and future college students of America. We live in a world where raids are questionable. Do I have faith in the system?, pretty much not anymore, but I always have faith in people.
The variety of people I was locked up with were interesting, but it’s nothing I want to do again, nor believes anyone else should be there for something I do on a Memorial Day weekend or any other good weekend for that matter.