On the Comments on "Medical marijuana is an insult to our intelligence" by Charles Lane of the Washington Post

by Charlie Luzon

It may be helpful to read this short op-ed piece by Washington Post opinion writer Charles Lane before reading on. Or not. Whatever. -KV

When Charles Lane decided to write a short column on how the majority of medical marijuana recipients are not people with chronic pain or illness, but just ordinary folks who want to smoke weed, he should have stuck to the facts.

Because he's right - people ARE taking advantage of the system. And yes, we should have an open debate on legalizing marijuana instead of the strange "sorta-legal" system we have today in states like California.

Instead, Lane just did what one might do in an opinion piece - he gave his opinion. But because it was in the Washington Post (online), you'd have expected him to do a little research. I mean, at least a LITTLE.

Lane admits he's "unsure" about marijuana legalization, musing how it's likely a "gateway drug." Gateway drug? I haven't heard that argument since my days in DARE (and since I realized that by definition, alcohol and tobacco lead the charge). The author also refers to marijuana sold in dispensaries as "snake oil" since it is not regulated by the FDA. Chinese and Eastern medicine advocates everywhere blinked.

How did readers react to such declarations? Were they 50/50, for and against the piece? Let's just say, "no." No they were not.

Also, Lane probably did not know that the web and the bong go hand in hand. Posted on Tuesday, Lane's piece has more comments than anything he's written this year. The ratio? Out of the first twenty (did you think I was going to go through all the comments?) 1 supported his argument, 1 was neutral, and 18 were against. Ardently against.

That's what you get when you take a shot in the dark, and in the dark is giant monster that doesn't like to be shot.*

Some choice comments:


"When alcohol and tobacco have legal status, the stench of hypocrisy that emanates from the likes of you complaining about "Medical Marijuana" being an insult is unbearable."

-HumanSimpleton

"Every time I read ignorant crap like this posting, it makes my blood boil. This filth has no place in a paper as famous as the Post for its journalistic integrity."

-cv_collins


"Your self righteous, ignorant musings are causing me direct harm by denying me legal access to a harmless herb."

-gbeckmann9


"Are you a journalist or newspaper jockey? Ironically, it was Hearst's yellow journalism that got us in this mess in the first place, but I am sure an irony is lost on you."

-snowbank


"How are alcohol and tobacco not schedule I drugs when they are highly addictive and have absolutely no medical value?"

-wildmonkey12


"Thanks to the Washington Post, reading has become an insult to my intelligence."

-moharr


There are so many great responses as well as humorous cheap shots, it's hard to know where to end the piece.

I'll just say this: I agree with wildmonkey12.

Don't we always?

Seriously.

-CL


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* In this case the "monster" is online marijuana advocates.

A letter to the neighbors moving in that I didn't give to them, instead rewriting it to make it "nice."

To Our New Neighbors Below Us:

Thank you for your note last month alerting us of the ongoing construction on your unit. It was very polite and cordial. And quiet. The letter was, I mean.

For the most part, the construction noise has been reasonable, intermittently scaring the crap out of our me and our cat eight hours during the day. But those are business hours, so, whatever.

Today, however, the pounding began at 7am. Because the GRRRAZZZZHTTHHHHZZZ and HHEEPPPECKCKKKKKKKACCKKKKK is directly below our apartment, it is impossible to block out the noise. (You may have though I was joking about how the noise scares me and the cat. Now you know I was not.)

Is there any chance that future work on your place could begin later in the morning? That would be greatly appreciated and super conducive to a neighborly atmosphere.

Warmest Welcome,

-Charlie Luzon

P.S. The letter can also be summed up in the following poem:

When you move in
I can stomp
and you'll hear it
So tell your construction people
to chill.
As Klaus says,
seriously...

Ten Ways to Lose Weight

Charlie Luzon

We know what you're thinking: "It's not Thursday, yet this post is dated Thursday." Really? It's not Thursday? Prove it. -TLB

Recently I've shed a few pounds by changing my diet and some things in my lifestyle. Though I'm not exactly sure which combination of things led to the weight loss, here are ten possible reasons - in the the form of instructions - in no particular order.

1. Stop Drinking Soda
2. Take a Spinning Class at least Once a Week
3. Eat Less Meat
4. Park Far From Your Job / Errands
5. Stop Drinking Sobe Energy Drinks (See #1)
6. Eat More Fruit
7. Eat More Vegetables
8. Lift Weights Twice a Week
9. Do Something Called an "Elliptical Machine" Twice a Week
10. Swim

Hope that helps.

-CL

PS. This may seem easy, but many of these things take time and effort and a new appreciation of things like vegetables, fruits, and non-refined sugars. Seriously.

When I was young I knew everything

The thoughts come flooding back...with the music, with the rain, with...nothing at all, for no reason. Perfectly content in the present, nostalgia hits like a summer breeze. No, it feels more like a poorly written metaphor of a summer breeze: the description of the wind hits your eyes and you laugh - ha! Did he really write "nostalgia hits like a summer breeze?" No, he wrote about the metaphor.

Sure, sometimes I close my eyes and enjoy it (nostalgia). And sometimes I squint, trying to see where it came from, where it went.

And here it comes like a wave, like a summer breeze...woosh! Freshman year in college. -CL

That "intro" really belongs in the piece. -KV

Then put it there. -CL

I'm not the editor. -KV

What do you do? -CL

What does any of us do? -KV (Any italicized notes after this metaphysical statement will be deleted: the piece below is long enough, no need to test the patience of the reader with lengthy intros.)

When I was young I knew everything
Charlie Luzon

Within minutes I was swimming in freedom. The freedom to do anything at any time. The freedom to take classes, read, stare at girls, learn, and talk, oh! talk. We stayed up all night just talking, didn't we? Later - talking and drinking. But first, just talking.

What the hell did we talk about? It was like junior high without the curfew. (What the hell did we talk about in junior high?)

Coincidentally, The Verve Pipe's song "The Freshman" came out the same year. Even TVP knew something was happening, even if we didn't know what it was.

In the tradition of the site that is more used to lists and pictures of boobies than anything else, here are five nostalgic moments from my freshman year in college that may or may not make any more sense to you than it does for me to be remembering these things over ten years later. For boobies, click the link above. (I'm sure you have already.)

1. Dorms - Co-ed dorms, Rieber Hall, Burning CDs, No Doubt, Netscape, WebCrawler, designated laundry times, a room across from the women's bathroom/showers. Did I mention co-ed dorms a.k.a. the best invention ever?

2. Band - Camp before it was a joke in American Pie, heat, sun, shirts off, at school a week early, empty dorms, every day, good musicians, cooler kids, dorkier kids, hot girls, christian girls, non-christian girls, would date a few of each. Or try to.

3. Philosophy - George Clooney-looking professor in front of a classroom of 400, a god-like figure save for the Clooney resemblence, stretching the mind, thinking about things I didn't know I could think about, no limits on mind, Christianity puts limits on mind, doesn't seem fair, just, faith begins to slip. Could I have stumbled upon the one truth in my small town? Or should I think about this more?

4. Santa Barbara - Drunk, for the first time, back and forth to drink and chase wildly after a girl or my idea of a girl. Teddy comes along at least once, not sure why. I see Kyle way more than I thought I ever would. Hiking and driving, and drunk in a beach town that parties endlessly; we're just passing through the party still goes on, and on, it still goes on, man, damn.

5. San Diego - Drunk, not the first time, in San Diego, Dan, his gf, SDSU. Another time, Tijuana, Persian girl from my dorm can't get back, we bribe American border patrol. $80 lighter we make it back, Teddy hooks up with Persian girl after (or before?). Longest. Night. Ever.

To be a freshman: the freedom, the friends, the dreams.

To not be a freshman: responsibilities, work, busy friends.

But also: real love, real life, and I wake up in my dreams.

Current nostalgia: We were only freshmen.

Nostalgia coming soon: We were only thirty-somethings.

Look for it.

-CL

Elliott Smith Dedication - Without Smith

This was written shortly after Elliott Smith's tragic death on October 22, 2003. It relies a lot on quotes, but we like it anyhow. -KV

WITHOUT SMITH
Charlie Luzon

“You only live a day, but it’s brilliant anyway.”

Elliott Smith is dead. Killed himself. Los Angeles. Musician. Found by girlfriend. Los Angeles. Suicide. Girlfriend. Elliott Smith is dead.

That’s as much as I understand, or care to understand. None of it matters anyway, except the first and last parts.

“Everything means nothing to me.”

My roommate told me the news after we came home last night. I don’t know if he knew the hole night and just remembered when he saw the Elliott Smith CD on my floor, or whether he found the information on the Internet moments before. I went online and read the reports.

“…where stupid shit collides with dying shooting stars.”

The news stories are the same. Who are they talking about? It can’t be the same Elliott Smith that I know – it reads like anybody died. I don’t care if anybody dies, I care that Elliott Smith is dead. Elliott Smith is dead, you wrote. Another depressed musician kills himself, what did you expect? you wrote. He sings about alcohol and drugs and depression. No. You can’t do this to him. The painful blandness of "objective" journalism. Another name expunged with the page.

“I’m never gonna know you now, but I’m gonna love you anyhow.”

I have the tendency to form a bond with people I admire, whether I know them or not. He is a celebrity. I didn’t know him. Maybe I’m delusional. A lot of people do that - imagine a connection with someone famous. Maybe we’re all delusional.

But Smith's music does something to me. It doesn’t something to a lot of us. It makes us feel. Draws sadness and love out of their two am depths no matter what time of day it is.

“Got a foot in the door. God knows what for.”

Money, fame, critical success – none of it matters. You still might plunge a knife into your chest. You still might leave people wondering why. You’ll still leave people feeling as if they stepped into a work of science fiction. They’ll still be saddened when they realize they didn’t. When it’s real. When there’s no time machine, only a light bulb breaking in our hearts.

Goodbye Elliott. We’ll miss you anyhow.

-CL

(All quotes from Elliott Smith: Figure 8, Kill Rock Stars, and XO)

The Original Brothel Members

If you knew The Brothel from 2001 - 2005, then you know that it was a collaborative effort. Klaus led the charge, but there were others - many others. Some of the biggies were Mary Allen, Teddy Nutmeg, Parker Briggsmore, Aine Brigit, Kat Bannister and Boris Salvador. And me, Charlie Luzon.

But you wouldn't know it by the "new" Literary Brothel.

Klaus put up one of my pieces (please link that, Klaus -ed. note: Done. If only there were an easy "link" button next to the paragraph formatting line on the toolbar, contributors could do it themselves...) but it wasn't my introduction, nor my best work.

After much pleading, Klaus caved and started handing out access to the site. I got an invite. Parker did too. Klaus even sent a nice note along with the access codes. It read, "Now you can put up your own crap," or something to that effect.

And it was effective. Here I am, putting up my own "crap." With more to come.

Much more.

You have been warned.

And have just read my (new) introduction.

-CL

Sexy Single Sizzling - An Interview with DLC

Back in 2001, my old college neighbor was voted on of People Magazine's top eligible bachelors. So we interviewd him. Sure, he had a girlfriend at the time so he wasn't technically single, but hell, how many people do YOU know who have been profiled in people magazine? That's what I thought. -KV

SEXY, SINGLE, SIZZLING
by Charlie Luzon

Blatantly capitalizing on the fame of our friends (Kal, you're next), here's a brief interview with one of People Magazine's Top 50 "Sexy, Single, Sizzling" Bachelors, Mike de la Cruz.

Mike (DLC) has a degree in Anthropology from UCLA. He thought about joining the French Legion, nearly joined the Army Reserves, and eventually settled on teaching high school at Compton High.

----

TLB: How did you get picked as one of America's top 50 eligible bachelors?

DLC: My rare ability to maintain the attributes of both sexy and sizzling simultaneously. At any given time there are about 125 of us in the world, with about 60 being already married - so to fit into People's criteria of Sexy, Sizzling, and Single the competition really wasn't all that fierce.

TLB: What do your students and co-workers say about your spot in "People"?

DLC: They think I had that issue made at Kinkos for $20.

TLB: What did your friends and family say?

DLC: They laugh. There is a general consensus of disbelief.

TLB: What's the best thing for you that has come out of the "People" spot?

DLC: The unbelievable amount of riches.

TLB: What is anthropology?

DLC: The study of man.

TLB: Do you plan to teach your entire life?

DLC: No.

TLB: What do you plan to do if not teach?

DLC: Continue pulling off amazing heists.

TLB: Can you beat up Ben Affleck?

DLC: Probably not.

TLB: Matt Damon?

DLC: Once again...

TLB: Ok, ok, what about Tiger Woods, could you take him (sans golf clubs)?

DLC: I think you have the wrong idea here... These guys are all protected by very powerful friends. They're bigger than you and me.

TLB: What's your favorite movie?

DLC: At all times my favorite movie happens the last movie that I saw. My attention span doesn't allow for much leeway.

TLB: Favorite Book?

DLC: The yellow pages.

TLB: Color? Why?

DLC: Mauve. You know why.

TLB:. Where do you see yourself in 20 years?

DLC: Hopefully kicking it with Frooz (a mutual friend of ours)..

TLB: Thanks Mike.

DLC: Word, homie.

-TLB