It's hardly novel to be in favor of the legalization of marijuana, especially if you're a largely ignored blogger that spent Saturday afternoon stoned, watching the Tenacious D DVD and playing SOCOM online. But I won't let that stop me from taking a stand. I say legalize it. If not for me, for the cancer people and other sickies that would prefer smoking a jaybird to writhing in pain and having explosive diarrhea.

But as we of the largely laughable legalization contingent know, there are those in power, The Man, collectively, that insist on perpetuating the idea that Mr. Green ain't all that and a bag of Hostess Donettes. Like Dracula, The Man can appear in many forms. Here is one.

Though his name evokes images of a jackbooted member of the Third Reich, Arne Dietrich is the name of a so-called researcher who is suggesting that the euphoria following extended exercise, known as "runner's high," is similar to the euphoria following extended toking, known as "high." Seems logical, and it provides the first explanation of why those obsessive runners do it that I can relate to. What I find objectionable is that Arne suggests that his discovery "could provide sufferers of glaucoma and chronic diseases an alternative to using marijuana for pain control."

What's the matter, Grandma? You're weak from hunger because your chemotherapy is causing you to throw up any food you manage to fight past your swollen lymph nodes and down your gullet? I know the weed helped that, Gram, but research says there's something better. Why not take a nice, long run? Sure, it's not only winter here in Minneapolis, but it's the winter of your long life. And I know your rheumatoid arthritis, also easily relieved by a toke now and then, makes any real movement impossible, especially in the cold, but they say you only need to run hard for an hour or so. Sure, the glaucoma that causes your eyeballs to pound, also once treated by marijuana, makes your vision cloudy rendering running here in the city dangerous, but think of how great you'll feel when you're done? I love you, Grandma. On your mark, get set, go!

Analogcabin @ 7:55 AM
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