Lurid anti-marijuana propaganda offers its own cheap thrills

Yet young people will do anything for this grungy skanky weed. They will lie and cheat. They will steal car stereos or trade their delicate, yearning bodies to bearded ex-cons. They will flirt with biker gangs or cruise skid row. And once they grab hold of a bag of this deadly drug, they become paranoid and greedy, often turning to violence to knock off their fellow addicts so they will have more for themselves. To do their smoking, teens and 20-somethings seek out the very places that a serial killer would likely prowl-- empty parking lots and abandoned buildings. Just imagine your kids falling asleep, knocked out on drugs, as unknown pedophiles watch from nearby bushes... Or else they lock themselves behind dead bolts in rundown railroad flats, heavy blankets covering the windows and the phone permanently off the hook to avoid calls from Mom.

Toking, sucking, chuffing.... These are all words to describe a pot lover gulping down that acrid yellow smoke deep into his lungs. The sensation that comes almost immediately is one of pain and trauma but the addict likes the punishment, he lives for the punishment! He will hallucinate shadowed monsters on the walls, the sound of rabid dogs scratching at his door. Maybe his hand will fall off or the television will speak to him like Satan in this putrid delusion. The mind is thus released from any moral boundaries and sex naturally ensues. Paganistic, hedonistic orgies of lust perversion where no hole is left unviolated. The thrill of sadomasochistic carnal insanity is the great addiction of the toker. Penetrating each other for days, slobbering like wolves gorging on a carcass, the stain of their fluids on every wall will grow tacky before the hippie party ends. They will return to this again and again until they no longer know what sex is, what decency is, what America is. Or else they release themselves through constant, violent masturbation. Yes, self-gratification is a chronic disease of the weed wanton. Trapped in a world where only the hand and the genitalia exist, neither hurricanes nor death can unlock the grasp of the marijuana masturbator before it's time.

Thank you, Christwire, for keeping it real. [Thanks, Bamyasi!]