“Um, is there molly in this?”
“Oh, god honey, no! What kind of mother do you think I am?! Why, do you want a little bit? Because if you’re going roll I’d rather you do it in the house.”
I’m sure by now you’ve heard and seen more than your share of knee-jerk anti-drug propaganda as a result of the molly-related deaths at EDM shows in New York and Boston this past weekend. Over on BULLETT, Luke O’neil gives an alternative and, in my opinion, more rational perspective on the matter. He points out that, hey, maybe molly isn’t actually growing legs and jumping down people’s throats and murdering them. Maybe there is a wrong way to pop da mollies, and maybe there is a way that’s slightly less stupid.
I’m not saying that people who die of drug overdoses are idiots. On the contrary. It’s just like that abstinence-only education shit they used to teach us in high school. When kids are told by authority figures and a bunch of talking heads to JUST SAY NO to something that they obviously wanna do, their resulting rebellion is usually approached with a strong degree of reckless abandon, simply for lack of knowing any better. If all you’re taught is abstinence, how would you know how to use a condom? If all you ever hear is DON’T TAKE DRUGS, a dangerous generalization that equates a puff of marijuana with an intravenous heroin shot, you may smoke weed once, think “hey that’s not so bad,” and then every cautionary tale sounds like bullshit.
Well, obviously they’re not all bullshit. Some drugs can kill you. And you can’t really absolve anyone from neglecting to do research about the shit they’re putting in their body. But with all the anti-drug info being SO dramatically sensationalized, and most of the pro-drug info being hosted on what appear to be Geocities websites, it’s no wonder people ignore what they hear and read and just do whatever they want. I certainly learned the hard way, and pretty much every drug rule I have these days is because I’ve done the opposite at least once before (an image of teenage me–in Vegas, pale, crying and shivering at the feet of a certain rodent DJ while my friend begged people for change to buy a $8 bottle of Dasani–comes to mind. Things I learned that night: don’t buy ‘ecstasy’ from strangers in sketchy salt lake city parking lots, don’t take more doses than all your friends combined, don’t wash them down with a bottle of alcohol, you dumbass, and for the love of god SAVE MONEY FOR WATER.) I’m pretty sure, technically, I should have died like…three times now?
I’m turning 24 next week and I know, I know. I can’t stop talking about it. But I’m, like, old now. I have a lot more to worry about than testing the limits of an invincibility complex. There was a time when I couldn’t imagine life past 19, and now I’m drawing up a distinct game plan for what I want to accomplish by 30. I don’t want to go completely straight edge, because hey, that’s lame! So instead I have to, like, “use good judgment” and other embarrassing things our moms used to tell us to do.
Bottom line? Do what you want, but KEEP IT CUTE. You can’t be the life of the party if you’re, you know, dead.