I have made a generalized discovery. The general gist is, reading about, viewing documentaries (or fiction) regarding meth is very fascinating. Doing the like with marijuana is in turn very boring to me.
I do not use recreational drugs, but I am a rabid reader and consumer of pop culture.
Breaking Bad is one of the hottest shows on TV. Methland: The Death and Life of an American Small Town is one of the most scandalous books I’ve picked up and been unable to put down in the past six months.
I’m now reading The Cornbread Mafia: A Homegrown Syndicate’s Code of Silence and the Biggest Marijuana Bust in American History. It was a less than $3.99 kindle read on amazon last month and I couldn’t wait to get into it (True Crime is my favorite genre ever, especially CHEAP true crime). I had to put it on hold when I began to read about Alice Cooper’s love affair with booze, women and snakes (very interesting!) and golf (he really loves it, so much so that he finds it a more pertinent topic for the majority of his autobiography).
The title alone is kind of scintillating, who doesn’t love a good true organized crime tome? Helicopters! Millions of dollars! Secrets! The option to also produce rope!! Yet I literally fall asleep reading this book every night. I’m about 40% into it. I have smoked a lot of pot in my past life and smoking it is about as much a sedative as reading about it. I have never once even been curious about the show “Weeds”. Reading about someone getting high on pot or watching someone smoke pretend pot on tv must be the equivalent of watching paint dry (without getting a little woozy on fumes). I’ll admit, potheads are funny, but pot in and of itself bores me so bad.
Yet I’ve never done meth. I never want to do meth. But I find it fucking fascinating the way that Tom Arnold’s sister may be singlehandedly responsible for the invasion of Meth in the US… that it was once the “working man’s drug” to keep folks revved up through double shifts… that Li’l Laurie was resourceful enough to purchase horse stables (ala Gus Fring’s chicken and laundry emporium) and a car dealership to meet her production and logistical needs (getting meth across state lines unnoticed with an ever changing inventory of cars) as she built her empire…Flynn loves cereal and his dad loves money… That one bitch killed her husband with an ATM!! None of this is boring. The drug actually poses a danger and no one argues that it should be legal like other boring yet expensive and unhealthy recreations are. Most movies I’ve seen with story lines involving meth have been worthwhile rents, while pot movies are a dime a dozen and pretty predictable.
What I think would be most interesting though COMPLETELY unrelated to read about is the life and mind of Keith Morrison. Clearly he is a fascinating subject since Google searches for his name actually bring the majority of traffic to my blog (that and disdain for Ozzy’s boneyard or other Sirius related complaints) He’s undeniably creepy with a dark leslie nielsen-type charm (Nearly 6000 fans, the most vocal being middle-aged women fawn all over his ne’er updated facebook page), yet no one knows how he got that way. Maybe he intends to be so mysterious, yet most journalists want money. I guess he gets satisfaction in a murder story well done. I once thought about approaching him to help him write a book but remembered then that I have no credentials or published works.