In 2010, a dentist extracted my wisdom teeth, told me to gargle with salt water, and sent me home with a prescription for a Costco-sized bottle of hydrocodone pills. During the procedure, she knocked me out with propofol- the same drug that killed Michael Jackson-and afterward I felt no pain. After a few hours, I popped one hydrocodone, more out of politeness than need. Weeks later, I still felt fine, but I popped two more, just to see what it was like. Hydrocodone's dreamy, pain-dulling effect was impressive: I bit my cheek hard enough to draw blood, and it didn't hurt at all. But the pills made me woozy. I then put the remaining 57 or so of them into my medicine cabinet, and I have no idea what happened to them after that. Lost in a move, I guess. [continues 1221 words]
The former mayor of Baltimore on how the next president should reform the U.S.'s drug policy. A different commander-in-chief will soon assume leadership of the War on Drugs. Let's hope that a new leader will implement a new strategy, because for nearly a century now-- following the passage of the Harrison Narcotics Act of 1914--America's War on Drugs has been seen primarily as a criminal justice problem. And for nearly a century, we've seen this approach to fighting drugs fail and fail and then fail again. [continues 1349 words]
There's a little bottle in my medicine cabinet, prescribed by my doctor. The pills are perfectly spherical, opaque, and shiny, like tiny pearls. The medication is called Marinol. It's an anti-nausea medication I take sometimes to deal with what most people on the AIDS cocktail manage day after day, meal after meal. The pills are perfectly legal, and their active component is THC, the main active ingredient in marijuana, which human beings have known for centuries to be able to cure an upset stomach and increase appetite. [continues 1149 words]
The most frustrating part of the interminable debate about the "war on drugs" is the word "drugs." Strictly speaking, after all, there is no war on drugs in this country; there is a war on some drugs. America boasts a vast legitimate pharmaceutical industry, and personal expenditures on its products go up every year. Very, very few of us go even a week without taking some kind of drug, be it an over-the-counter cold medicine, a doctor-prescribed medication, or a self-medicated legal substance--a cigarette, a shot of tequila, a double espresso, a McFlurry. And the variety and sophistication of these substances are growing as fast as their use. Do you remember the day when you could simply ask for a cup of coffee and no further elaboration was required? The salient question behind the "drug" war, then, is not simply the usual libertarian-authoritarian conundrum. [continues 1085 words]
Fine Lines The most frustrating part of the interminable debate about the "war on drugs" is the word "drugs." Strictly speaking, after all, there is no war on drugs in this country; there is a war on some drugs. America boasts a vast legitimate pharmaceutical industry, and personal expenditures on its products go up every year. Very, very few of us go even a week without taking some kind of drug, be it an over-the-counter cold medicine, a doctor-prescribed medication, or a self-medicated legal substance--a cigarette, a shot of tequila, a double espresso, a McFlurry. And the variety and sophistication of these substances are growing as fast as their use. Do you remember the day when you could simply ask for a cup of coffee and no further elaboration was required? [continues 1101 words]
Is there anyone in this administration as unsettling as "drug czar" Barry McCaffrey? Salon magazine revealed last week that the federal government has been secretly doing financial favors for the TV networks in return for the insertion of anti-drug messages into their programming. According to Salon, the feds promised to let the networks sell their mandated anti-drug public-advocacy spots to commercial advertisers if they pushed government anti-drug messages in the story lines of their shows instead. I waited in vain for the usual suspects to voice outrage, for mass resignations from TV companies in Hollywood and New York, but there was barely a squeak. [continues 182 words]
Editor's note: Trying to reprint this superb ad as an email item would not do it justice, so we will not even try. It is online at: http://www.drugsense.org/barry.htm However, even on the web page it is not as nice looking as it is in print, a full page on page 13 of the magazine, which is 8 1/2 by 11 inches. Richard Lake Senior Editor; MAPnews, MAPnews-Digest and DrugNews-Digest email: rlake@DrugSense.org http://www.DrugSense.org/drugnews/ For subscription information see: http://www.MAPinc.org/lists/ Quick sign up for DrugNews-Digest, Focus Alerts or Newsletter: http://www.DrugSense.org/hurry.htm * * * * * * * * * * Information on the state and topic discussion lists supported by DrugSense is at: http://www.drugsense.org/lists/ .............................................. The FACTS are at: http://www.drugsense.org/factbook/ ............................................. "DRUG CRAZY: How We Got Into This Mess and How We can Get Out," is a gripping and dramatic review of the drug war over the last 100 years. It is being published by Random House. More at: http://www.drugsense.org/crazy.htm ........................................... We also sponsor an interactive chat room for activists. Point your web browser to: http://www.mapinc.org/chat/ And join the discussion. The chat starts at about 9:00 p.m on Saturday and Sunday night Eastern time. Folks drop in and leave as their time allows over about a three hour period. ........................................ - --- Checked-by: Richard Lake [end]
On January 28, 1991, at 4 p.m., 10-year-old Darrin Davis, of Douglasville, Georgia, returned from school to his suburban home. Both of Darrin's parents were at work, and he let himself in. He immediately went to his parents' bedroom to call his mother, who wouldn't be home for another two hours. After talking to her on the phone, Darrin began searching the bedroom for candy; his parents often hid sweets there. He found none. Instead, after climbing on top of a chair, Darrin saw a white powder on a small makeup mirror. At that point, Darrin would later say, he thought of something he had recently been taught in school. Darrin's fourthgrade class had been visited by a police officer under the auspices of the Drug Abuse Resistance Education program, or dare, as it is known. One of the things the dare officer had told Darrin and his classmates was that they should inform the police if they ever saw anyone including their parentsuse drugs. The kids were shown a video that reinforced the point. [continues 3470 words]
The extent of dare's ability to muzzle critical studies can be seen in the treatment of the most definitive test of the dare program ever conducted. In 1991, the National Institute of Justice (NIJ)the research wing of the Justice Departmenthired the prestigious Research Triangle Institute (RTI) to analyze the studies on dare and determine the bottom line. Initially, dare supported the "metaanalysis." In a 1992 letter, it urged state groups to work with RTI, saying it "will give us ammunition to respond to critics who charge that dare has not proven its effectiveness." [continues 4324 words]
Inside the club, order seems to reign, as well. The computers are up, the phones are ringing. Reporters chase down sick people in wheelchairs. The reporters are here because today is a news event: the relaunching of the mothership, as the club is known to its grateful patients, marks the coming out of California's medical marijuana movement after years in hiding. Founded in 1992, the club existed in an uneasy truce with the city of San Francisco, selling pot to some 12,000 customers designated as medical patients. It grew to become by far the largest medical marijuana club in the state, serving as many patients in a day as the other seven or so clubs together might serve in a week. Then, in August, 1996, state narcotics agents raided the club and shut it down on a host of marijuana possession and distribution charges. Three months later, California voters, by a margin of 56 to 44 percent, passed Proposition 215: The Medical Marijuana Initiative, making it legal to smoke marijuana in California with the approval or recommendation of a doctor. A local judge promptly gave the club permission to reopen and designated the club's owner, a former (and often-convicted) marijuana dealer named Dennis Peron, as a caregiver (which is to say, pot provider) for up to 12,000 patients. [continues 6136 words]
