Reefer madness

It appears to be fashionable once more for senior government members to disclose whether or not they smoked cannabis in their youth. Leading the way was new Home Secretary Jacqui Smith – now in charge of reviewing the 2004 declassification of cannabis from a Class B to Class C drug – who made her admission on GMTV yesterday. It was a stock politician answer: it was 25 years ago, I did it once or twice, I didn’t really enjoy it, I haven’t done it since, etc. What a big yawn. Harriet Harman did the same thing on the same programme this morning. It was a bland, forthright statement of fact. Even the interviewer John Stapleton couldn’t be bothered to probe much below the surface, his own indifference nearly equal to my own. A student? Smoking a joint? At university? I refuse to believe it! Next you’ll be telling me that students miss lectures, drink cheap beer, listen to indie music and have sex occasionally. The debauched animals!

 

 

Of course, the whole point of Smith, Harman, Darling, Kelly, etc, coming out of the cannabis closet is to once again put the spotlight on David Cameron and reopen the whole issue of whether or not he took drugs in his youth too. Cameron still refuses to play the game and increasingly one suspects that this is because his dalliances with illegal substances were perhaps a tad more extreme than the occasional toke of a joint at a student house party. Perhaps – and I’m trembling with trepidation at the mere suggestion of this – he smoked cannabis… regularly! And enjoyed it! Can you imagine? That is, after all, my own experience and, come to think of it, that of virtually everyone in my social network. So come on Dave, don’t be shy. Tell us about that good shit you smoked.

 

The whole affair underlines the rank hypocrisy and absurdity of the law surrounding the use of cannabis. Millions use or have used it on a regular basis, causing no harm to anyone but themselves, but become criminals in the process. And yet our own Home Secretary took it herself as did, it appears, a substantial number of the Cabinet. Of course, they all bleat now about the “folly of youth” and how they “regret it enormously” and all kinds of other platitudes that they feel duty bound to say, even though nobody outside of the offices of the Daily Mail or the Telegraph is in the least bit bothered by the revelations. (Speaking of the Telegraph, check out this reactionary rant by the deranged Simon Heffer.) The only real problem here is the fact that known ex-users of the substance will now decide the severity of the “crime” of future users as they redefine whether it is a Class C or Class B substance. They are determining how future users will be treated by the law even though it is patently obvious that the only sensible action is to decriminalise or even legalise the substance. When it’s legal it’s regulated, its supply is not determined by organised crime gangs, mobsters or terrorist organisations but, instead, licensed businesses. The strength and purity of the substance can be controlled, as can its availability. And, even better, it can be taxed and become a major source of income. At the present time and under the current legislation, none of the above is true. Instead we spend billions of pounds losing a war against a plant that grows naturally. The THC content is manipulated by the growers to dangerous levels, the content is mixed with other products, anyone of any age can buy the stuff pretty much anywhere. If they are caught in possession they risk a jail sentence and a criminal record for the crime of exercising their own choice over which poison they wish to consume. And it is about choice. Want to drink yourself to death? Go ahead – the choice and availability has never been greater. Want to smoke cigarettes? Oh, it might be forbidden in all public places now, but if you’re over sixteen you can still take your pick from the various suppliers of the most addictive killer drug on the planet. Want to smoke a little weed and do no harm to anyone but yourself? Oh no, you deserve a criminal record or a custodial sentence.

Forget the ‘War on Drugs’, how about a war on nonsensical and downright hypocritical laws?

Media try to drag up ’shady’ drugs past. Entire nation yawns.

Quick poll. Does anyone, anywhere, give a honking bum trumpet whether David Cameron smoked cannabis in his schooldays or not? Certain sections of the media seem unhealthily obsessed with this ’story’, for reasons that I cannot fathom. If he didn’t smoke jazz cigarettes a quarter of a century ago, then there is no story. Whereas if he did smoke jazz cigarettes a quarter of a century ago… then there is still no story. None. Whatsoever. In the meantime I have yet to hear a single person respond with anything other than yawns – not even the Home Secretary is bothering to make political capital out of this. Even Norman Tebbit recommends that Dave simply make an official announcement to clarify the matter once and for all. That’s right: Norman Tebbit.

I wrote about this subject when it first came up during the Conservative Party’s leadership contest in October 2005. If only Dave had followed my advice, he probably wouldn’t have had to interrupt his Sunday schedule yesterday. As I said at the time:

It’s a shame that he can’t just release a statement along the lines of “In my youth, like many people in this country, I used some drugs on a recreational basis. Whilst it was fun at the time, it was a long time ago and bears no relevance to my life anymore. Now that we’ve got that cleared up, please can we move onto the real issues at stake here?” Just release that and kill the issue cold. Perhaps then we could finally engage in an intelligent conversation and free debate about drugs that doesn’t immediately degenerate into a cacophony of hypocritical bluster at the very mention of the word. 

And it is hypocritical, of course. Journalists whipping up a story about someone’s predilection for illegal substances is like a troupe of clowns starting a campaign to punish the wearing of big shoes and white face make up. Media folk everywhere: give it up, nobody cares. This must be the first recorded instance of lots of fire, but no smoke. In the meantime, Cameron should clarify one way or the other. “Yes, I did smoke cannabis. What of it?” or “No, I didn’t smoke cannabis. What of it?” Either way, outside of tabloid press editorial meetings, nobody is remotely interested.

Work is the curse of the drinking classes

At last, it seems we are on the cusp of having sensible drinking hours in this country. We don’t need pubs to stay open 24 hours a day, and in 95% of cases I bet they won’t anyway. But how nice that we will be able to go for a meal, or watch a film, then go for a drink afterwards without it being snatched out of our hands by 11.20pm. We might even – shock! horror! – be able to meet up with friends later in the evening and not have proceedings cut short by drinking laws that treat us all like children.

And maybe, just maybe, over time this nation will be weened off the idea that you have to down drinks as quickly as possible before being thrown out onto the streets at exactly the same time as hundreds of other people, all competing for the same train seats, buses and taxis. It’s almost. . . civilised.

Just say no

Or, if you’re David Cameron, when asked “have you ever taken hard drugs?”, refuse to answer one way or the other.

This is a particularly petty witch-hunt isn’t it? Who cares if he has or not? What difference does it make right now whether he smoked cannabis or snorted cocaine once, twice or even a dozen times in his younger years? I hope he did. I wish we lived in a political culture sophisticated enough to accommodate the fact that, like many millions of other citizens of the UK, he may have used recreational drugs, quite possibly enjoyed them, and is still a normal person as a consequence. It doesn’t make him any less fit to stand for office, and it’s of no consequence to me one way or the other.

It’s a shame that he can’t just release a statement along the lines of “In my youth, like many people in this country, I used some drugs on a recreational basis. Whilst it was fun at the time, it was a long time ago and bears no relevance to my life anymore. Now that we’ve got that cleared up, please can we move onto the real issues at stake here?” Just release that and kill the issue cold. Perhaps then we could finally engage in an intelligent conversation and free debate about drugs that doesn’t immediately degenerate into a cacophony of hypocritical bluster at the very mention of the word.

But, of course, he can’t do this. It would be suicide for his political ambitions, and the other three candidates are revelling in the fact that they can state unequivocally that they have never touched an illegal substance in their life (although Ken Clarke is an ambassador for BAT – what’s worse?).

And who’s behind this dirt digging anyway? Why, none other than our friends at Associated Newspapers. Of course, tabloid journalists! Those clean living, teetotal paragons of virtue! The sheer hypocrisy of it all makes me retch.

Four years ago, the Conservatives were unable to support a candidate who admitted to a homosexual encounter in his university days, so ended up with the unelectable Iain Duncan Smith instead. Now it looks like they may ditch one because of alleged drug use in his youth. And so beats the dark heart of the Tories. Congratulations – you’re setting yourself up for the unelectable David Davis or, even worse, Liam Fox. What’s that popping sound? That would be Gordon Brown opening the champagne.

White Lines (Don’t Don’t Do It)

As “exclusives” go, “Supermodel uses cocaine” is probably up there with “Pope prays on a regular basis”, or “Teenage boy has a wank”. Not really much of a surprise. We’d probably be equally unsurprised to find out that she makes herself sick every now and then, or that she smokes cigarettes to “stay thin”. Here’s hoping this boring woman disappears to South America with that talentless fuckwit Pete Doherty in tow, where they can both snort the whole of Columbia up their noses for all I care. Twats.

Loved the official response from H&M (for whom Kate Moss offers her services as a professional clothes horse) though:

“We are very anti-drugs and insist all our models are healthy, wholesome and sound.”

Healthy, wholesome and sound? Models? Survivors of Japanese prisoner of war camps came out with more meat on them than some of these freaks.

24 Hour Party People?

We have a funny attitude to alcohol in the UK. On the one hand, we have the most draconian licensing laws in Europe. On the other, we abuse the substance more than any country in the Western world. With the possible exception of Australia, who would enter a drinking team to the Olympics if they could.

So it’s been interesting to read the backlash against the proposed licensing reform laws today. Apparently, warn senior judges and the police, extending pub opening hours will lead to an increase in violence, sexual assault and public disorder. In addition, wild tigers will roam school playgrounds, Gibraltar will fall to the Spanish and plagues of locusts will descend upon the Home Counties. Or something.

Personally, I’m not convinced we need 24 hour pubs either. That seems a bit excessive. But it is without question that we need to liberalise the current laws. How patronising to be ordered to stop drinking at 11pm. “The government has decided that you’ve had enough. Now go home. You have to be at the munitions factory at 7am.” A ridiculous hangover (excuse the pun) from World War One that is totally at odds with lifestyles in the 21st century.

Truth be told, if pubs were open all day in this country, it would be carnage. It’s bad enough in late bars now thanks to a sizeable chunk of arseholes, but why should the majority have to suffer because of them? Is it really so ridiculous to propose that, on a Friday or Saturday night we should, if we so choose, be allowed to stay in the pub until one or two in the morning? Oh, the horror of it all!

I seem to remember a similar resistance in the late 1980s when the law changed and allowed bars to stay open from 11am to 11pm without having to shut between three and seven. All hell would break loose, some claimed. People wouldn’t go back to work. Children wouldn’t be picked up from school. The very fabric of society would be torn apart. Didn’t happen, did it? And it won’t this time, either.

It’s all a fuss about nothing anyway. Hardly any pubs will apply to open 24 hours a day: it wouldn’t be economically feasible for them to do so. But if landlords want to stay open for a few hours more (even if it’s only at the weekend) they should be allowed to do so and I, for one, will be cheering when this finally happens.

Mine’s a pint. Oops, no, I can’t. It’s 11:01pm. It’s against the law.

A week is a long time in blogging. . .

And two weeks is an eternity. So I thought it long overdue to churn out some thoughts on events of the last couple of weeks. In no particular order:

• George Galloway. Yes, he was entertaining at the Senate hearing, and I’m sure they’ve never come across anything like him before in their prosaic environment. But the man is still an odious little turd. Let’s not forget, either, that he might have come away looking like the victor, but he ducked some big questions that day. Not to be trusted. (The entire transcript of that hearing can be read here. Quite interesting.)

• Liverpool winning the European Cup. A great match, and anyone who comes back from 3-0 down to beat AC Milan in the final should be allowed to defend their cup next season. But they’re definitely not the best team in Europe, whatever it says on paper. Over the course of 38 games last season, they weren’t even the best team in Liverpool. Still, give them Man United’s place and we’ll say no more about it.

• Speaking of which, Malcolm Glazer’s protracted take over of Manche$ter United has been highly entertaining theatre and no mistake. Amusing to see these infuriated Man U fans spitting blood about somebody buying “their” club, seemingly oblivious to the fact that it has been a public company since 1991 so has not been “their” club for some time now. The flotation served them well in the 1990s as they became the richest club on the planet – weren’t complaining then, were they? So you can’t really be surprised when fat corporate scum like Glazer come over from the US with plans to make the company even bigger and richer. OK, he might fail and bankrupt the club if it doesn’t work out. But it’s not all good news. He might make them even more wealthy and successful than they’ve been already – look at his track record, not notable for his failures, is he? Now shut up with your whinging. Man Utd aren’t a football team, they’re a brand name with a football team tacked on the side. Zero sympathy.

• Looks like the French are going to return a resounding “Non” over the European Constitution, which might just derail the whole “European Dream”. Good. I’ve got issues enough with British democracy as it is without passing powers over to an even more undemocratic and distant bureaucracy. Call me old fashioned, but I like my governments small, efficient and transparent. Enormous, anonymous and based in Brussels? Non, non, non. Let’s keep the EU for what it was intended: an environment for economic cooperation and a free market. Ironic, seeing as France was a chief architect of the old Common Market, and their biggest objection to the European Constitution is that it will hurt their long-established protectionist economy. Fuck France and fuck a United Europe too. There, that’s me out of the Eurosceptic closet.

• Another bullshit ruling today on use of cannabis for pain relief. Bottom line: if smoking a naturally occurring substance acts as an efficient method of relieving excruciating pain without any toxic side effects, then it should be allowed. Moreover, if anybody wants to consume a naturally occurring substance for whatever reason, be it recreational or medicinal, it’s nobody else’s business. The arguments for its continued illegality are flimsy and the money and time spent enforcing the law could be better applied elsewhere. Full stop.

• The proliferation of teenage mums. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, we won’t get anywhere until we sterilise the working class.

• That last one was a joke, by the way.

• Bank Holiday Weekends. How I wish we had more of them. Hurray for the three day break, and just look at this weather. See you next Tuesday.