The Goofy Road to Possible Doom: On the Stupidity of Recreational Drugs

Now Philip Seymour Hoffman is dead. Another one on the list. Sad. Definitely sad.

But, you know, it occurs to me that no one would die of recreational drug overdoses if everyone would just stop using them.

I have always thought recreational drug use was, at best, silly. I'm not going to take some high-road moral stance about it. To me, it has always been embarrassingly inane to do something in order, simply, to make one's self feel goofy. It seems so damned puerile to me.

People will argue about the whole "opening of the mind" thing. Of course, everyone who is not someone who is trying to make a dignified excuse for making himself feel goofy is aware that this is nonsense. Drugs artificially open and expand the mind, then they leave damage and residual confusion and mental instability in their wake, if not worse. And, often, they leave people dead, in which state it becomes fairly irrelevant as to how open the mind is, what with it being non-functional. So there is that.