What’s the basis for your opposition to marijuana; and have you ever smoked it?

Someone recently asked why I steadfastly refuse to participate in planned debates, such as the type held at Universities, as a means of advancing my message. The answer was twofold: One, my “message” is advanced through columns, one every four days, and in upcoming books; certainly wouldn’t mind giving a speech here and there, but I’m not so in love with my own thoughts I must hop a plane six times a year and fly to a campus for the sole purpose of being argued with. I’d rather read a good book and save someone the airfare. Two, debates are dubious; your audience has made its mind up, no matter the issue, long before they walk into the building, nothing I can say to a liberal opposite me (or in the audience) is going to dissuade them from their own views … the whole exercise boils down to little more than a slightly more professional sounding cheerleading session in the name of your opinions.

Opposition didn’t always exist. Since my writing career began in August 1993, I have accepted five invitations to debate, four between April 1994 and January 1996, the last coming in January 1999 when a certain unnamed forty-second President was being tried in the Senate. (Of the five, I performed well in two of the affairs, one of those being the impeachment debate.) At the end of each debate, the floor was opened up for questions; in these I have been asked everything from favorite sexual position to in depth questions about the Federalist papers (a question I was unable to answer). Unfortunately, none of the following questions have ever been asked, even though they were always greatly anticipated. Here I ask them to myself, cf. William F. Buckley’s self-interview-as-prologue from his book The Unmaking of a Mayor.

Question One: What have you specifically got against marriage? Answer: A lot of things, but I’m only going to mention a few in the interests of time and space. For starters, the very institution as we interpret it today suggests someone cannot be whole unless they’re connected to another person in this indentured servitude, which is backwards. I defy my readers to think of another institution where the stated benefits are declarations of autonomy and adulthood, accomplished only through attaching yourself to someone else and their circumstances until the day you die; it’s flawed at the very concept. Marriage is great for children, horrible for anyone who prefers to think for himself or act on his own behalf.

What’s more, marriage is still too focused on one’s emotions as opposed to his intellect. Those who go the furthest out of their way the fastest to get married are generally the least emotionally and / or intellectually prepared to undertake any serious task, much less make a lifetime commitment to anyone or anything. If you don’t believe me, consider the last dozen couples you’ve known who have gotten divorced, as well as those couples you know who are together but very unhappy. Now take a moment to trace the root causes of their displeasure … you’ve suddenly found my contention bares intellectual fruit. Fifty percent of marriages fail because the act of becoming married becomes such a priority, hardly anyone stops to consider what exactly makes someone the “perfect” man or woman. They end up settling for someone clearly not right for them, but who is at least around when they most want someone around, and who wants to wait, anyway?

Nothing can be perfect so long as humans are involved. My argument isn’t for human perfection; my argument is for a careful consideration of the motives that drive one to marriage when losses of freedom and autonomy are certain. There are things more important than saying “I do” ladies and gentlemen. Find them.

Question Two: Is there such a thing as an intellectual defense of the one night stand? Answer: Alas, no, and Lord knows I’ve tried over the years to find one because I absolutely adore strange women. When considering whether or not anything has a basis in intellectualism, however, you must define the word. Taken very literally the question being asked is, Is there high intelligence in the one night stand, an act where one befriends a total stranger and submits himself to possible diseases (or worse yet, pregnancy)? Absolutely not, especially when you consider there is no such thing as a fool proof prevention of either; as long as there aren’t fool proof protections of your health and financial welfare, one should err on the side of caution.

Question Three: You have said you believe a higher power created the universe and humanity, yet you lend absolutely no credence to organized religion. What gives? Answer: The two things – a higher power being responsible for creation and organized religion – aren’t reasonably connected in ways other than in the imagination. Let’s take the creation of the universe first: When one sits and ponders the universe, he’s considering something so vast it boggles the imagination to either consider or explain. If he believes what he’s been told, he recalls the Big Bang, and how from this seminal movement came innumerable galaxies, including the Milky Way, from which – against worse than impossible odds – Earth comes to possess those qualities perfect for sustaining human life.

The problem is, the Big Bang had to originate from somewhere, some collection of molecules no matter how large or small, which if true leads one to wonder, Then who or what put those original molecules there for the Big Bang to happen? And if nothing was around before the Big Bang, what contributed to this spontaneous explosion? Here you’ve run into a troubling paradox: nothing can come from nothing, and everything must begin with something. To believe in the Big Bang theory, one is suggesting ours was an imprecise creation, an accident, which defies logic. Perhaps the greatest irony I can find in those who support the Big Bang with all their hearts is, they decry with all their might the idea of the virgin birth but lend credence to an equal impossibility when it comes to the creation of the universes. (From this, humanity is a mere step; even if we crawled from the sea, we crawled from a direct construction by a higher power.)

Organized religion, on the other hand, was built and became an institution despite a savage lack of necessity, especially in these times, where even a generally anti-intellectual populace is gradually becoming smart enough to realize one can find religion on his own without having to supplant his beliefs with those of a group, without subjecting himself to someone else’s interpretations of certain texts, without feeling compelled to offer hard earned money just to give thanks. Organized religion provides scores more questions than it answers, and that’s why it’s a failure.

Consider Luke Holder, the mailbox bomber. There’s a name for what he believes in, but I failed to take notes when I heard the report: He believes one can meditate to the point where his soul will leave the body and travel on its own, and this in combination with his crimes makes him crazier than the average serial bomber. Really? How is his belief any more or less feasible than the soul leaving the body after death and going to places called either Heaven or Hell (which we cannot prove exist)? What I’d like to do away with is the idea that, if there’s indeed an afterlife, one can attain eternal happiness there by subscribing and dedicating himself to rules and restrictions demanded by mere men who scarcely follow them themselves (or who stand aside while their own break them with criminal consequences). Someone can support creationism, and whatever else he may believe, without lending himself to organized religion of any sort, and should.

Question Four: Are you obsessed with being right about things? Answer: No, not particularly, though this is a common complaint when anyone goes out of their way to make their more well reasoned points known. I’m wrong all the time, about a wide variety of things; what I have found, however, is that if you’re going to be a columnist, you’d better be prepared to face criticism when it comes, and the only way to do that is to educate yourself on whatever it is you’re writing about. If you’ve ever wondered why many of my columns tackle issues it seems everyone else tackled last week, you’re right in the observation: this is because extra time was taken, from a research standpoint, to make sure my ducks were all in a row, so to speak.

There’s no dignity in being wrong when it counts, ladies and gentlemen, and every one of these columns are instances where it counts.

Question Five: What’s the basis for your opposition to marijuana; and have you ever smoked it? Answer: As recently explained in this space, I have no basis upon which to form an opinion on the topic of medicinal marijuana, so I don’t discuss the matter.

In regards to recreational use, my objection is purely intellectual. Presumably what draws in the casual user is the escapism marijuana provides, and whenever someone takes it upon themselves or goes out of their way to relieve themselves of the ability to reason cognitively, my antenna are raised. There’s really no more specific way to explain it than this: human beings are provided with the capacity to reason, and we are unique as mammals because we have that ability; the circumstance where one should see fit to relieve himself of that gift, if for no other reason than letting his hair down for the night, simply cannot be presented in a way I’ll be able to understand or ultimately condone.

As to the second part of the question: No, I have never partaken (other than the occasional light duty contact buzz one can get at any rock concert), and won’t. This is the only part of the presidential litmus test I could pass with flying colors.