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IN THE BELLY OF THE BEAST
Touring the DEA's Dope Museum
by David C. Morrison
Taking
a leak at the Drug Enforcement Administration headquarters
in the high-rise Virginia suburbs of Washington, D.C., I
am struck suddenly pee-shy. Tours of the hulkingly ugly
F.B.I. headquarters downtown famously wind up with a light-heartedly
sinister offer to collect the visitor's fingerprints. What's
to keep the DEA from doing its own snooping?
As urine trickles into the bowels of the Drug War command post,
I imagine my piss being sniffed by carefully calibrated
gas chromatography devices. Should any illicit molecules
be detected, armed lobby guards will storm the washroom:
"Sir, slowly move your hands away from your penis...."
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Never
fear: Having gone for almost six years without imbibing any intoxicants,
not even the legal ones, I am no longer a chemical criminal. No,
I'm just visiting DEA headquarters, a normal civilian with two
other ex-junkie friends,(no, that's not us in this picture) checking
out the new DEA Museum and Visitors Center and its exhibit, "Illegal
Drugs in America: A Modern History."
An exhibit on the dope
culture stocked with artifacts donated by
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the Association of
Former Federal Narcotics Agents might well be expected to take
the same sort of even-handed approach to its subject as, say,
a Nazi-run Museum of Jewish Culture.
Disappointingly, the DEA Museum fails to rise fully to the laughable
extremes to which American anti-dope agitprop so often aspires.
Not too much out-and-out Reefer Madness buffoonery on display
here.
On the other hand,
this dope never doubts the proposition that certain plants and
chemicals have been banned and their users branded as criminals
simply because these are very, very Bad Drugs.
continue... One
is hard-pressed
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