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The author of your article “Stoned Alone: Life as a potted plant” (11/14) claims to have been a television pundit with his “mug smirking” across the screen. I for one believe him, because time spent watching this country’s talking heads has convinced me that the overwhelming majority of them are shallow idiots.

You have to wonder why it is that, with all of the interesting and important topics that need to be written about, the best Mr. Name Withheld can do is this whining, self-pitying monologue—Oh, poor me, smoking marijuana isn’t as much fun anymore, and I’m too dumb to figure out how to pass a piss test so I can get a job on a redneck paper in Jerkwater, Fla. Perhaps lack of imagination and intellect has more to do with his career problems than cannabis hemp.

And maybe our anonymous writer would like to change his lifestyle by trading places with one of this nation’s 750,000 prisoners serving time for marijuana-related offenses. Also, would that scoring was so easy for, and the law so lenient toward, the area’s cancer patients undergoing chemotherapy and AIDS patients with wasting syndrome as it seems to be for this mystery scribe.

The truth is that this self-indulgent piece of tripe is just another example of late-20th-century America’s passion for avoiding responsibility for one’s own actions. We must blame anyone or anything but ourselves.

The bottom line is that this type of bogus anecdotal evidence is just what the self-serving drug warriors in our government and the greedy parasites in the forced-drug treatment industry need, to keep persecuting the literally millions of productive, creative, hard-working citizens who feel that marijuana enhances their lives.

If you are reading this, Mr. Name Withheld, I have a question for you. Were the 30 pieces of silver that the Washington City Paper paid you worth it?

Board Member