TRB FROM WASHINGTON: ENJOY

There's a little bottle in my medicine cabinet, prescribed by my
doctor. The pills are perfectly spherical, opaque, and shiny, like
tiny pearls.

The medication is called Marinol. It's an anti-nausea medication I
take sometimes to deal with what most people on the AIDS cocktail
manage day after day, meal after meal. The pills are perfectly legal,
and their active component is THC, the main active ingredient in
marijuana, which human beings have known for centuries to be able to
cure an upset stomach and increase appetite.

Unfortunately, Marinol isn't that good a drug. The relief from nausea
quickly dissipates; even the docs prescribing the stuff don't believe
it's as effective as the real thing.

So why can't I legally have the real thing?

This week, as expected, the Supreme Court struck down an appeal from
some cannabis collectives in California for an exemption from a
federal law banning marijuana distribution. It turns out this Court
isn't the highest in the land after all. (Bada-bing.) But, of course,
the Court is simply interpreting a pretty transparent law that bans
pot distribution for medical use--so transparent that I'm surprised
the Supremes even took the case. The deeper issue is why our society
bans medical marijuana at all.

The answer, to anyone who has ever swallowed a Marinol pill, is
obvious. The illegal thing in pot is not THC; it's pleasure.

The only difference between the pill and a toke is
enjoyment.

Sure, there's some risk of inhaling smoke into your lungs--but
cigarettes are legal (at least until the Democrats win back Congress).
The physical dangers of pot-smoking are trivial compared with the
dangers of, say, alcohol, even if you factor in an unusually large
case of the munchies.

And, compared with nicotine or caffeine, marijuana is about as
addictive as Gatorade. Yes, you can get psychologically addicted to
it--but the same can be said about watching "Who Wants to Be a
Millionaire?" or subscribing to The New Republic.

No, what the government is worried about is that you might actually
have some fun while conquering your nausea.

It's enjoyment that the feds want to outlaw. Bush's prospective drug
czar, John Walters, seems to believe that a person who derives
pleasure from smoking a plant is immoral because he's pleasantly
altering his consciousness. But why? Is drinking alcohol immoral? Is
the physical and mental enjoyment of a fine wine more moral than the
physical and mental enjoyment of a joint?

Beats me if I can find any distinction that isn't based on irrational
panic.

Besides, we often feel pleasure because we're doing our bodies good.
And, sure enough, marijuana's medicinal qualities--for a wide variety
of physical problems--are now a matter of record, whatever Congress
says. A fascinating piece in last Monday's Los Angeles Times recounted
scientists' discoveries about weed's effects on mental and physical
functioning. It turns out that marijuana affects a whole range of what
are called cannabinoid receptors, and these receptors in turn regulate
any number of physical functions.

The Times reported that "[i]t is now known that THC mimics chemicals
made naturally by our brains--chemicals that influence a smorgasbord
of bodily functions including movement, thought and perception.
Studying these brain chemicals (known as `endogenous cannabinoids') is
increasing our understanding of an array of medical conditions--among
them pain, Parkinson's disease, Tourette's syndrome and memory loss.
Drug companies are working busily to develop new therapies based on
this knowledge." In other words, marijuana works on the human mind and
body because it mimics substances we already have, substances that God
or evolution gave us. It merely elevates feelings we are already
programmed to feel--but in a way that might both heal illness and give
pleasure.

Of course, other, more dangerous drugs do this as well. They mimic
adrenaline highs or serotonin rushes.

But, unlike these other drugs, which have little or no therapeutic
value and which require elaborate manufacture or processing, marijuana
is a medicine that grows in the earth.

It has been used medicinally for centuries.

Banning it not only robs us of potential medical breakthroughs--since
more widespread use would likely turn up new and unthought-of
effects--but it also denies people what should be a perfectly legal
pleasure.

The tired argument that pot is a "gateway drug" to more serious
narcotics is a fallacy.

Sure, if you ask hardened drug addicts whether they started with pot,
they usually say yes. But I doubt many of them are teetotalers, either.

Why wasn't their first beer a gateway drug? And if you ask a bunch of
white-collar professionals in their fifties whether they have ever
smoked marijuana, they'd probably say yes as well. My favorite example
of this is Al Gore. Here's a man who, by all accounts, smoked weed in
college.

For him, it was a gateway to one of the most responsible careers in
public life you can imagine.

Yet he was vice president in an administration that presided over
almost five million arrests for marijuana use in eight years.

The sole tangible way in which pot is a gateway to other illegal drugs
is that it is illegal.

The best way to end this easy path to worse narcotics is to legalize
it and take it out of the hands of criminals and gangs.

Besides, it is only our puritanical culture that insists that health
and pleasure are incompatible. Nature suggests the opposite.

Good health is deeply, subtly pleasurable. And pleasure--with its
reduction of stress and encouragement of positive thinking--is related
to good health.

I think of an old friend of mine with AIDS who, in a matter of months,
turned from a strapping man into a skeleton.

He had almost no immune system and no appetite. He spent most of his
days in bed, trying to keep himself from throwing up his medications,
moving from time to time to take the pressure off his bedsores, and
listening to music as he faded in and out of fevered consciousness.
Then he smoked pot. His distress eased; he loved listening to music
more and more; his appetite slowly came back. He survived long enough
to get the protease inhibitors that saved his life. He's now fit and
healthy. He has no doubt that pot saved him.

And pleasure was part of his recovery.

It helped dissipate the appalling pain and depression that beset him.
It made him human again, because a central part of being human is the
enjoyment of life's pleasurable gifts--physical, intellectual,
artistic, culinary, mental.

We need to play as much as we need to eat and sleep.

It is bizarre that, in a country founded in part on the pursuit of
happiness, we should now be expending so many resources on
incarcerating and terrorizing so many people simply because they are
doing what their Constitution promised.

Pleasure isn't the same thing as happiness, of course, but the
responsible, adult enjoyment of the pleasure of something God gave us
is surely part of it. Our continued attack on a medicine that, by some
divine fluke, is also highly enjoyable demeans everyone who
participates in it. If you'll pardon the expression, it's high time we
ended it.