That pure Cane Spirit since 1848.

Wednesday, June 28, 2006

Name yer poison.

I’ve always had a moral empathy with the drug cartels in Colombia. Why? I’ll tell you.

The whisky industry in Scotland is huge. We export it all over the world. Our marketing in this area is second to none. We market it as an adjunct to the sophisticated lifestyle. I’ve travelled quite a bit, and no matter what dusty airstrip you arrive at, the first sign you see is Cutty Sark or Vat 69 or Glenfiddoch, long before you see one for Coca Cola or ‘arrivals’ or customs.
For a Scotsman, it’s quite comforting.

Whisky kills more people than cocaine.
But, are we being bombed? Defoliated? Held up to the world as a pariah?
It’s grand to have a scotch or two after dinner or a round of golf with your friends. Have another afore ye go, you can always take the back roads home, so there’s no danger of you ploughing into those school kids waiting for a bus like last time.

Colombia on the other hand grows cocaine which we also want to consume in large amounts.
Oh dear. I don’t think so. Stop it at source.
So what, if our efforts and the huge amounts of money totally destabilises what is a poor developing country? WE shall decide the recreational drugs of choice for the population, not the population.

The same goes for the dirt poor farmers growing poppies or hash.

I tried cocaine a couple of times. Doan liche it. It was maybe mixed with Vim or Ajax or something.

Rant over.

Not quite.

There's also that man that's the new president of Peru or somewhere.

"We've chewed coca leaves for generations and we ain't stopping now." says he, "We prefer it to your gringo Budweisers and Jack Danielses and fine Virginia tobaccos thank you very much Uncle Sam."

He's right!

Rant over.

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