RAVE ON: HOW A BAD BILL BECOMES A LAW

THE RECENT PASSAGE of the RAVE act, which allows the government to hold
event organizers responsible for customers' drug use, should infuriate even
those who'd run screaming from one of these all-night,
electronic-music-fueled dance parties.

Why? The RAVE Act, now officially known as the illicit Drug
Anti-Proliferation Act, passed both the House and Senate in April without
ever having gone through committee and without floor debate. Sen. Joseph R.
Biden (D-Del.) tacked his legislation onto the Amber Alert bill, a measure
intended to help capture kidnappers, for no reason except political
expediency. He had learned from his experience last session, when vocal,
organized opposition from groups like the Drug Policy Alliance (DPA)
stopped the bill in its tracks.

"One senator's pet issue made a mockery of the Democratic [sic]
process--becoming law without any public hearing or opportunity for input
whatsoever," DPA Executive Director Ethan Nadelmann wrote in an e-mail
after the act had passed. "We will be working with the legislators who
opposed this provision--such as Senators Durbin, Kennedy and Leahy and
Representatives Conyers and Scott--for its repeal."

On the bright side, lines from the original bill suggesting that
prosecutors should use the sale of glowsticks, massage oil, and water as
evidence of drug use were stricken from the version that passed. So was use
of the word rave. Though the DPA celebrated the removal of "such blatant
discrimination," the move also could stoke concerns that the measure could
be used to target an ever-widening assortment of events.

The impact of the new law will largely depend on how John Ashcroft's
Justice Department decides to enforce it. If the department's aggressive
assault on medical marijuana in California is any indication, the next few
years could be a dangerous time to be in the business of helping people
dance the night away.