Thank God for the Government. The solution for the scourge of opioid addiction in my particular state-of-residence should allow us all to sleep easier. There is a proposal up for consideration that will levy a one-cent-per-milligram tax on opioids produced by Big Pharma and prescribed within the state. That’s hittin’ ‘em where it hurts. That’s boxcar loads of cash. This money is ostensibly earmarked as funding for law enforcement, education, intervention and treatment. My bet is Big Pharma will at first throw a tantrum, bring it to the cusp of a court battle, then humbly capitulate. They may even offer a show of contrition… and six months later start jacking the price of every other pill in the state to the tune of about a penny an mg. This’ll surely cover the tax, and easily recoup the cost of all that discount naxalone/Narcan they will selflessly offer to cops and medics to administer to OD victims.
The promise on tighter monitoring of prescriptions has gotten louder and louder as well, so now the friendly family doc is on alert and had better tighten up. Threats of suspended privileges and censure are no longer idle.
Glad we’re finally getting a handle on this thing. Not.
***
Human history has had its share of cataclysmic disaster. To believe this crisis is an anomaly or aberration is blissful ignorance and modern-day arrogance. I’m not specifying drug abuse/addiction in particular. Since the dawn of recorded history there have been epochs and eras where sudden spikes in wholesale death came to pass. And I’m taking warfare out of this equation. Pandemics and drought, plague and pestilence! Sure, there were a few folks who picked up the flails or rough timbered crosses and slogged around the countryside, making appeals to God’s mercy and demonstrating penitence, but most people reacted to widespread catastrophe by hunkering down and waiting for things to blow over. “Cryin’ won’t help ya, prayin’ won’t do ya no good…” Losing a few family members was a grim expectation in the best of times. When it didn’t rain for five years or a plague swept over civilization, the best one could do was hope—or pray—that whatever cosmic deity they believed to be in charge was more pissed off at the neighbors.
Ah, times were simpler then. The local liege-lord didn’t step out onto the balcony and assure the serfs and peons of his understanding of how serious this situation was. He didn’t inform them he and his staff were hard at work in finding solutions. He didn’t offer pep talks centered on courage and unity. He sure as hell didn’t make promises about “programs” or “special committees” being put into place to alleviate the suffering or finding a means to combat it. In those dark days before mass media, the town crier didn’t march up and down the square barking statistics and bemoaning the fate of “the children.” Nobody expected as much, either. Everybody knew they were in the same boat and equally fucked, whether they lived in a castle or a mud-walled hovel.
Ah, how times have changed. We no longer lack for information. Panic can now be spread and fed in nanoseconds. The upside of this we have instant access to statistics and whatever agenda they’re put forth to prove, and we now enjoy regular updates on the welfare of “the children.” We’ve progressed beyond primitive belief and simple mindedness We’ve outgrown and “out-sophisticated” a thing so silly as accepting the Will of God, and supplanted it with the more enlightened and humanistic approach of assigning blame. Who needs a cleric when we’ve got lawyers and politicians? No better place to seek counsel when it comes to determining where fault should lie. We’re so advanced that we don’t even blame Mother Nature when it doesn’t rain or the tsunami hits. It’s no longer a natural occurrence, but the result of greedy and selfish fuckers who are destroying the Earth Our Mother from both within and without.
Now is when you should ask: “What the hell does this have to do with opioid addiction?”
And now is when I answer: “Everything.”
Despite our modern knowledge and sophistication, we are just as stupid and oblivious as we were in the Middle Ages. We have convinced ourselves that this knowledge and sophistication imbues us with control. We are convinced we have power over conditions that were once universally accepted as forces humankind was powerless against. We can well delude ourselves that we’ve come to the point where Mother Nature is a force we can play with—for good or ill—but won’t accept there is another nature we can’t do shit about: Human Nature.
People like to get fucked up.
Now that we’ve all outgrown the notion that God runs the Show, we’ve chosen to elect (for those who enjoy democracy) people who’ve determined themselves capable in doing His work. Those not living in a democracy are stuck with people who’ve decided to play God. Either way, the people affected by pandemic addiction and death ultimately aren’t going to fare any better. In many ways, we’ve worked very hard and very long to go nowhere.
Since my middle school days, I’ve been told by the powers that be that education was our greatest weapon in the battle against addiction. That’s been the line adopted by those in our nation we’ve put in charge of determining what’s good for us. Folks, we’re educated. If there’s one person in this country that hasn’t had the dangers of opiates and opioids pounded into their heads since elementary school, then that person lives in a cave or a culvert—well “off the grid” in any case. We have all been schooled on the dangers of tobacco, drugs and alcohol . . . and sugar, caffeine, genetically modified chickens and anything “supersized.” Put ten schoolkids in front of a steel post in sub-freezing weather. Tell them not to put their tongue on it. Tell them why it’s a bad thing to do. Stress and re-stress what consequences they could face in performing such an act. Provide evidence, show them pictures, recite testimonials, get an expert opinion. Repeat it over and over until you get every kid in the group to assert licking a frozen pole is a dreadful thing to do. Repeat, repeat, repeat… I’ve not a doubt whatsoever that, despite all this good intent and information, at least one of those little shits will find himself glued to a stop sign within the week.
More by Friday, the end of all this, in fact, guaranteeeeeeed. I’m getting back on track, but it’s taking longer than I’d thought it would. Why is this so? Here’s why: https://www.amazon.com/Lunacy-Death-perspective-developed-investigation-ebook/dp/B079DWFH9T/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1519665668&sr=8-1&keywords=lunacy+and+death+book