Like 2001: A Space Odyssey, the history of Montana’s medical marijuana law is long and interesting only if you’re high. Suffice to say the 2004 legalization has been subject to multiple reversals and amendments from succeeding legislatures, and now the issue has risen1 to the level of ballot initiatives. Yesterday, Missoula’s City Club debated I-182, to let doctors prescribe marijuana for PTSD and chronic pain. The con position was advanced by Stephen Zabawa—sponsor of his own ballot initiative to ban medical marijuana entirely—who gave us this, via the Missoulian:
“Quite frankly, you can have one beer, and you’re OK,” Zabawa said. However, he equated one “hit” of marijuana to 10 beers and said the active ingredient will “knock your socks off.”
Just try pot, dude. Before you devote your whole year and thousands of donors’ dollars to making sure no one can get pot, take that one hit yourself and see what it does. It’s true that if you drink ten beers, your socks will come off as if by magic. I’ll bet a hundred dollars to your twenty that you don’t get the same effect from one hit, just as soon as we can get to your doctor and make sure you’re not allergic.
Seriously—I call on Stephen Zabawa to smoke some pot. It’s the only responsible thing. After you hear that one hit gets you ratfuck wasted but before you organize a statewide movement, see what it does. If you’re not willing to try it yourself, have friend A take one puff of a joint while you confiscate friend B’s keys, phone and wallet, then make him drink ten beers. I think the difference in their outcomes will surprise you. Until you conduct such an experiment, your activism is the persistence of a man who has no idea what he’s taking about.
I wouldn’t know either, because I never tried grass. It was illegal in New York, and although you could still buy it we could never remember where, because whenever we got any we blacked out and thew up on our dicks. That’s why I stay out of politics. You won’t find me organizing ballot initiatives. Hell, I don’t even vote. I may not know anything, but at least my ignorance knows its bounds.