Cannabis got cheated.
About a hundred years ago, prohibition was passed "to cure the ill society" by eliminating liquid courage and other sinful excesses, making the 1920's the decade where wetting the whistle got replaced by the Crossword Puzzle and Charlie Chaplin.
Being an alcoholic must have sucked.
Being a stoner would have been worse. Because although they couldn't make liquor go away, they sure put the kibosh to marihuana by labeling it as a poison.
What a bunch of assholes.
But you know what they also couldn't make go away was the weirdos who loved the madness of reefer. And maybe they loved ragtime and jazz music and Kerouac along the way, and trippy tapestries and Hendrix and Cheech and Chong and Half Baked and Harold and Kumar and Tame Impala. Maybe they loved a lot of things about the way it makes us feel healthy and happy. We love it. And love is a powerful phenomenon. You can't kill love. Because it will survive as the cockroach survives and evolve into something indistinguishable. After all, it is a weed. And if there is sun and water, it will grow.
The freaks flags are flapping in the wind and the inmates are the new CEOs of the asylum. This is the beginning of the globally recognized, legally empowered culture of cannabis where anything goes if you've got an open heart. Everyone's welcome. Be prepared to be blown away. It'll mend your untethered sail.
Cheaters don't win in the long run. Sometimes a hundred years.
2020 is the year of vision.
We're gonna dance the Charleston.
