I find this article very interesting… and enlighting. By the way, i’m not saying “Hey, everybody! Go do some meth!”. I’m saying… instead of rendering it “illegal”… think of alternatives…

I always hated people who went “Drugs are horrible! So much worse then alcohol or cigarette.”. Usually the following sentence was “Hey man, you got any light? No? Arggg… fuck I really want to smoke…”. Anyways, pulled off: http://www.healthrelatedinfos.com

Illegal drugs can be “harmless” and should no longer be “demonised”, a wide-ranging two-year study concluded today.

The report said Britain’s drug laws were “not fit for purpose” and should be torn up in favour of a system which recognised that drinking and smoking could cause more harm.

The RSA Commission on Illegal Drugs ,set up in January 2005, also called for the main focus of drugs education to be shifted from secondary to primary schools and recommended the introduction of so-called “shooting galleries” - rooms where users can inject drugs.

The report, compiled by a panel of academics, politicians, drugs workers, journalists and a senior police officer, also called for the Home Office to be stripped of its lead role in drugs policy.

It recommended the Misuse of Drugs Act be scrapped in favour of a wider-ranging Misuse of Substances Act, and the current ABC classification system be abandoned in favour of an “index of harms”.

Current laws, the panel claimed, were been “driven by moral panic” with large amounts of money wasted on “futile” efforts to stop supply rather than going after the criminal networks behind the drugs on British streets.

At the heart of the report was a call for an end to what the panel called the “criminal justice bias” of current policy in favour of an approach that would treat addiction as a health and social problem rather than simply a cause of crime.

The report, which aimed to influence a government review of drug strategy next year, also called for jail sentences to be given for only the most serious drugs-related crimes and for addicts to be given jobs and housing as part of treatment.

It also recommended wider access to treatment such as prescription heroin.

Former Conservative leader Iain Duncan Smith, who is chair of the Conservative Social Justice Policy Group, described the report as “worryingly complacent” and accused the members of the commission of failing to do their homework.

“I find it most disappointing that the RSA report appears to endorse the failed harm reduction strategy of recent years and to ignore extensive evidence that residential rehab can lead to full recovery from drug addiction.

He said the RSA had not surveyed the views of drug addicts or looked at treatment programmes in such countries as Sweden and Holland, “where levels of drug abuse are much lower than the UK”.

But commission chairman Prof Anthony King of Essex University and: “Current policy is broke and needs to be fixed.”

The report, which is likely to spark fierce controversy, said: “The use of illegal drugs is by no means always harmful any more than alcohol use is always harmful. It called for the concept of drugs to be extended to take in alcohol and tobacco.

“The evidence suggests that a majority of people who use drugs are able to use them without harming themselves or others. They are able, in that sense, to ‘manage’ their drug use … The harmless use of illegal drugs is thus possible, indeed common,” it said.

Describing the drugs trade as a business, the report said illegal drugs had been “demonised” by politicians and the media.

It said a lot of money was wasted trying to achieve the “impossible” goals of completely stopping the importation of illegal drugs, as well as the production, distribution and sale of illegal drugs within the UK.

Describing the Misuse of Drugs Act as unwieldy and inflexible, the report says: “It sends people to prison who should not be there.

“It forces people into treatment who do not need it (while, in effect, denying treatment to people who do need it).”

While the report does not call for decriminalisation, it questions the idea of total prohibition.

“Drugs policy should, like our policy on alcohol and tobacco, seek to regulate use and prevent harm rather than to prohibit use altogether,” the report concludes. The RSA is the Royal Society for the encouragement of Arts, Manufactures and Commerce.

Yes, I voted today in Quebec (real vote day is: .

I know, I know… it’s so not-punk. So not cool. Hip. But yeah, I did it. And I kind of got interested in it for once (I.e.: I didn’t vote for the party who had the funniest name.) But to my dismay… It got me thinking.

Why do we have the right to vote? Let’s see here what Wiki says about it:

Voting is a method of decision making where in a group such as a meeting or an electorate attempts to gauge its opinion—usually as a final step following discussions or debates.

What about democracy? :

The definition of democracy is simple, the rule of the people, but great complexity and diversity has arisen from the varied concepts used at different periods of history and in different situations.

But WHY … Oh why, do we let stupid (mostly un-informed or just too old to be informed) people VOTE! For me, it makes absolutely no sense what-so-ever. It completely makes me sigh in despair. It renders the whole process meaningless. I see what some of you might think “We all have 1 vote, 1 voice, we’re all equal”. Yeah, but what happens when that voice is retarded and has nothing good to say?

Anyways. All this to say two things: I voted for Quebec Solidaire. and I swear to myself, in the upcoming elections: I will be more informed and i’ll be “That guy…” that everybody hates that keep saying “Oh you shouldn’t vote for these guys …”

Btw, I’m sorry for the lack of new stuff and all … I had a huge rush at work (if you’re curious: Babe Tournament) and i’m looking into re-doing the site’s layout.

So cheerios!

If you have to watch only a video today, this is it:

The guy simply took a picture of himself. Everyday. For 6 years.

The first time I saw it … my jaw simply dropped. I just love it. It’s so simple, without pretention. That’s what art is to me. Just a simple, great idea. Fuck the 90 pages thesis. Just by looking at it … it’s incredibly overwhelming.

For me, I feel like I live those with him. I get older as he gets older. I feel. I love how his emotion never really changes. Also, how the background is never quit ethe same… sometime simillar but with little changes. Or, the moments that are clearly from an other area. All these little parts… I feel that they are stories of their own.

Anyways. I love it and I wish one day, i’ll do something as simple and as beautiful.

Enjoy.

I wrote this so long ago… it was an english assignment and … I completely went overboard. The teacher gave me 90 % and a really weird look. I notice now that the writting isn’t as consistent as it should … oh well.

Depressed, he turned to his favorite sin; Lust.

He slowly walked the wet alleys of September. Every corner, watched by some drug addicted lightposts, shading barely enough light so that he could direct himself throught the dark maze. Everything he laid eyes on was blurred and confused. Some of the burning and smoking barrels begged him for some coins to eat. Others simply begged for alcohol. Unfortunately for them, all the alcohol he had, he had abused already. His incredibly disgracious way of walking and the heavy odour that laid in his clothes were the best proof he could provide. He wasn’t able to notice the difference between the cry and the scream of the night from the wet reunion of his black leather shoes and the cold cement.

After walking for two kilometers, opening three doors, stumbling 1 set of creaky wooden stair and passing 37 lucious lips, all offering a poor quality service, he arrived in the forbidden and disguting path to sick pleasure. His sick pleasure. A rather unique chemical smell greeted him. It wasn’t bad… it was horrible. The walls creeped slowly next to him. To his demise, he would be forced to embrace them sometime to prevent a reunion between his lips and the nasty carpet. Some dim lighted, and almost ripped from their owner, lamps were showing him the path to his relief. Doors sometimes greeted with a whimper or a not-so-distant cry of pleasure. Most of them were dead silent. Dead silent. Surprised and shocked by a muffled scream, he laid eyes on the floor in somekind of shame. He kept them there, just to be sure not to be involved. The rug snailed slowly under his feet. He stomped his way throught the corridor, creating a small city of dry mud footsteps behind him. Here and there were stains. “Are those Coffee or blood ?” his mind scratched. “Ugh!” was the usual answer. Due to age and use, the rug couldn’t contain the yells of every wooden floorboard. They took every chance they could to cry their age and boredom.

And at last, he was there. 7.4 feet away from his relief.

A mountain of flesh and muscles and a heavy metal door (both deprived of human intellect) were the ONLY THINGS, that stood in his way. The price was slim. Only costed him 133 hours of slavery work to pay this little gift to himself. The moutain moved aside opening the door to paradise.

They were there. As he had been told, the four goddess laid in front of him, waiting. He didn’t even hear the sound of the closing door. He barely heard the muffled growl of the fleshy moutain; “You have 4 hours.” the voice echoed throught the metal. He didn’t dare to move, afraid of vomiting or simply waking up from this heaven-sent present. As a blistering idiot, he stood there silently in awe in front of four beautiful half naked women. He was wasting more than precious (and costly) seconds. He knew it. He didn’t care. The cold statues suddently came alive all at once. The room was still, silently waiting around them. Was he deaf ? The room was the opposite of the hallway; Clean, cries-less and decorated with very good taste (if you were a rich and in heat). Within a few floating seconds and a blink of a almost closed eye, he was laying on the soft bed. All he could do was stare while his skin went burning and his hands drooled sweat. He was no longuer master of his own body. He still felt the presence of numbing alcohol, but the sickness slowly dissapeared. They moved around him like snakes, swiftly wrapping their victim with their cold soft skin. He felt their hot breath on his arms. Then his torso. And finally, his neck. Their fingers roamed freely. He noticed that the blond seemed to be the leader of this… “Goddess Gang”. Like a lieutenant, she directed every girls of their positions with only a quick glance. She would occassionally touch them, but the movement was abrupt, almost violent. His vision was so blurry, he could barely look at her. His attention was immediately stolen back to the amazingly beautiful brown-haired woman. She stranded him like a blanket wrapped too tight. She lowered herself, inches away from his face. Hypnotizing him with her wet anxious lips and her deep green eyes. Bottomless pits, they seemed. He was totally lost in pleasure and passion. He closed his eyes smilling.

The alarm ringed. Fingers crushed against his eyes. A few hurtful blink. Time to go to work.

I’m really not a patient man … but these dudes sure are.

Thanks to Celine for that link. It’s really awesome.