Normally, I don’t like to bring up politics in this column. But, for this particular issue, it is only fair that I state my bias—Oregon Govern-mommy, Kate Brown, is a soulless, power-hungry, poor-people-hating, Zima-drinking, gay-bashing, closeted racist who probably still uses her ex-boyfriend’s Netflix password, so she can watch documentaries about Hitler, while she drinks the blood of kidnapped children.
Are we clear? Good, because "clear" are the only type of vape cartridges (and nicotine liquid) that Oregonians will be able to possibly access, over the course of the next six months. Why? If you haven’t heard, at least THIRTEEN people in the U.S. have died after using cheap, illegal, Chinese vape products infused with Vitamin E oil (which is bad to inhale, especially if you already suffer from a lung disease). Now, when a dozen people die because they can’t R.T.F.M. (talk about "sick clouds," *buh dum chh*), that’s enough for a national emergency. But, a baker’s dozen? We’re talking AIDS, mixed with climate change and some positive news coverage of a Republican-leaning politician—that level of national crisis.
Basically, Kate Brown took a long look at the piles of human beings, rats, needles and feces located under literally every raised, horizontal piece of cement in Portland, and then, she decided that the best way to solve this problem would be to immediately ban flavored vape cartridges for a minimum of six months, putting small businesses at risk for a fine and thus saving Portland from abject poverty, weekly civil wars, gang violence and gridlock traffic (among other things). While a temporary stay was granted to non-cannabis vape products, chances are high that retailers will be unable to remain open and solvent, until after federal rules are laid down.
Considering that I am no less than an upstanding, lowercase-L libertarian, here’s my suggestion on how to get around the vape ban—as with any black market, one must consider the legal gray area that is demonstrated by our friends in the adult store industry. Think of Whip-It products, and to some extent, "tobacco pipes." No one—I repeat, not a single living soul—makes their own whip cream after purchasing it from a porn store (nor does anyone want a bong rip of tobacco smoke). Lovers who want to involve whipped cream tend to just invest the $1.99 at Winco for the pre-made stuff. But, the front is kept up, and every porn store with ethics and morals provides its customers with the option of "making whip cream" using the cracker, containers and balloons sold at the counter.
On the same token, what if I wanted to purchase some flavor-free nicotine or THC cartridges, and during the same trip to the vape shop or weed store, I purchase some food-grade flavoring for the hypothetical weed treats I plan on making later? Even the crap with Vitamin E in it is safe to eat—just not vape. So, friendly vape store guy and/or budtender, completely UNRELATED TO MY PURCHASE OF DRUGS, I would also like a vial of Cotton Candy Strawberry Choco-Spice...ya know, for the cake frosting. After all, I could just pick up some food coloring and flavoring when I buy my whipped cream from Winco later, but I’d rather give my business to you.
It’s almost 2020 and we’re still letting politicians tell us what we can own, consume and sell. Guns? Gone. Flavored vape? Gone. What’s next? Pornography? Violent video games? Movies? Well, considering that I was the only person in the theater for my local Joker screening, hysteria is working (aside from myself, there was not a single white dude in a hoodie with a gun in attendance). Plus, even if the vape stores and weed shops were selling liquid death with toxic, peach-flavored additives, no one is forcing us to consume it.
Why aren’t we banning alcohol, cigarettes, cars, social media, unhealthy food or outdoor music festivals, in which rich, college-aged Beckys pretend to be Native American for a weekend? Oh, that’s right—because people are addicted to that shit. In the time it took me to write this column, more people have died from texting while driving, than the entire history of vaping deaths. And, will I ever call for a ban on cars, beer or phones? Fuck no. Why? Because we’re adults—that’s why. I could go on for days about how the inevitable push back against patriarchal traditionalism has allowed for a motherhood instinct on steroids to thrive, but that belongs in another column. Instead, I’ll just say to Kate Brown, "You’re not my real mom." And, if I’m really true to my vape pen, I will pack up my shit, move out of her basement and start a company that derives amazing flavors from cannabis terpenes and tobacco plants.
However, for the rest of you vape shop owners, budtenders and black market dealers of plant-based vapor, I say, just go for it. Sell what you sell. Refuse to pay the fines. Fight back. If all of you do this (not just Willy Wallace’s Wacky Weed Warehouse), it would be like that movie, 300. We could call it 710.
Civil disobedience is necessary in order to maintain a free society—but, all we seem to hear about are small protests and schoolyard clashes between the far left and far right, due to a Trump rally or a college booking a problematic guest speaker. When this happens, the so-called "political extreme" can make national news by banging a few drums in the middle of an intersection. Yet, here we are, a nation of ex-smokers who have found a way to enjoy combustion-free, much-healthier-than-a-joint-or-cigarette, cheaper-than-Marlboro, more-effective-than-flower, space-age chemical enjoyment...and, we’re not going to fight back?
Get your head out of the clouds and turn over a dumpster for fuck’s sake. Fuck Kate Brown. Fuck vape bans. And, most importantly, fuck like there’s no tomorrow, because our society is burning to the ground, while our leaders are focusing on Mango Punch Coconut Burst.
