for 4 February 1998. Updated every WEEKDAY.

Unfocused Hostility

"Little Debbie Nutty Bars
(US$1.25/box of 6 twin paks)"

Sigh. I never thought it
would come to this. I know
you guys WORK for Wired and
all, but do you have to use
their style sheet? "US$1.25"?
How arrogant! Have you really
embraced the libertarian
idealism of Wired? Do you
really think that when you
write an electronic column IN
ENGLISH that deals almost
exclusively with American
culture, more than, say,
.000001% of your audience is
going to be from other
countries? And realistically,
what's the difference between
$1.25 in the US and $1.25 in
Canada? About 3 green M&Ms,
for the love of Ford....

Humbly,

Mike Barthel

Tell that to a Canadian,
Mike.

Subject: Stop "Dump on
Plump"

You know, a lot of the people
who are dying of these heart
attacks are the people like
you guys. The people who are
predicting that other people
are going to keel over
because they are fat. (I
suppose since you are doing
the criticizing that you are
thin.)

In every family that I have
seen, the ones that are
always trying to cause "fat"
paranoia for their more plump
family members usually have a
very well attended funeral by
the plump members they were
"cursing" in life.

Everybody's going to die of
something, and I am still not
convinced that thinness is a
life prolonger (studies have
always proved one thing-
"You can prove and disprove
ANYTHING by a study," it
almost sounds like the bible
- another paranoia- producing
tool.)

I am convinced of one thing
- Neurotic Paranoia can be a
real killer.

Phyllis Durham <phydurham@worldnet.att.net>

Hmm. You sound vaguely like a
chainsmoker who regularly
bitterly proclaims, "You can
get cancer from everything
these days! Gotta die some
day, after all!" Convenient
belief, given the
circumstances.

Ask any doctor what
percentage of their patients
who are under 35 and have
serious health problems are
also obese. It's no one's
business but yours if you're
overweight, and no one has
the right to ridicule you
about it. Just don't ignore
the fact that being very
overweight is horrible for
your health. Any doctor will
tell you the same thing -
it's not up for
interpretation.

Vox Potuli

I was surprised you didn't
also mention the incredible
sentences (i.e., life without
parole) still being imposed
on pot "dealers" (i.e.,
anyone even tangentially
associated with a weed sale
of sufficient size) in your
hilarious piece. The fact
that all this medical
marijuana stuff is happening
while the War on Drugs is
still going strong is the
ultimate howler. The
disconnect between public
opinion of grass and the
actions of law enforcement is
flabbergasting.

(There was an interesting
documentary aired as part of
ABC's March Against Drugs in
which Peter Jennings visited
some real-live marijuana
dealers, the main revelation
of which seemed to be that
they're mostly just ordinary
schmoes trying to make easy
money. It was surprisingly
sanguine on the drug itself.)

Ken B.

Thanks, Ken. Here's a nice
quote from California
Assemblyman Larry Bowler:

"We really don't have a war
on drugs. All we have is an
occasional skirmish. When you
go to war, you voluntarily
give up some rights. . . .
This would be a step toward
going to war."

In a related story, Uncle Sam
himself was quoted as saying:
"I want you to pee in a
cup."

Subject: What do the budsmen
buy half so precious as the
stuff they sell?

It's not really all that
complicated. With minor idiot
exceptions (too many of whom
hold public office), nobody
wants people going to jail
for smoking or holding herb,
lots of people want to be
able to get their hands on
some without too much
trouble, but most of us are
scared of what would happen
if the stuff were mass
marketed. Remember, it took a
good two centuries or more
for Europe to socialize
distilled alcohol (it almost
destroyed England, and it did
a damn sight more than that
to Native Americans); letting
any form of soma loose in a
culture can be dangerous.
Letting it loose marketed by
RJR is scary.

Sure, we all have our funny
dope stories (e.g., did I ever
tell you about the time I
picked up some brownies to
munch at my sister's place in
Berkeley just before I walked
down Telegraph to a meeting
with the nuclear physics
faculty at UC?); most of us,
if we admit it, have some
highly unfunny stories as
well, and some of us have
friends who aren't coming
back.

So the polling data and the
election data are
conflicting? Damn straight.
The polity is conflicted as
well.

Alan Kornheiser
<askornheiser@prodigy.net>

You know what's really
strange? As I was starting to
concoct an answer to your
missive at 4:00 a.m., I fell
asleep in my chair, with my
quill and taper at hand, and
had the following dream:

I'm at a party. It's pretty
happening. Two of my
ex-girlfriends are there,
along with a former
co-worker. The former
co-worker is working her way
through a nice fat doob, and
she wanders out of the room
for a moment. Next thing you
know, there's a lot of
hollering in the next room,
and we all rush in to find
that her lit joint has
accidentally ignited a
kerosene space heater in the
middle of the room. Blue jets
of gas flame are coming
through the vents of the
heater. Nobody can figure out
how to put the fire out, and
we all split out of the house as
it starts to burn down.

Out in the yard, the two
ex-girlfriends are in a
world-class catfight - over
me! So I head down to the
nearest bus stop, which is
peppered with posters and
flyers. Smack in the middle
of the leaflets is a
cool-looking promo sticker
that reads "Alan Kornheiser,
Businessman!" There are
little callouts at the top
and bottom of the sticker: "I
win!" says one; "I win EASY!"
says the other. (Though it
may not be clear from my
description, the sense in the
dream was clearly: "Do
business with me and you're
flying with the winners!")

Interpretations?
1) Wish fulfillment:
I haven't been
invited to a party since
1953.
2) Allegory: The two
ex-girlfriends represent the
electorate's moral conflict
over the war on drugs. The
accidental ignition of the
space heater is the fire
brimming over in a prison
system crowded with petty
drug offenders (note that the
flames were coming through
the bars of the heater).
3) One area needs no
explanation: You are a
winner!

yr pal,
BarTel