Why Euphoria is Illegal

I was recently prescribed Briviact for my epilepsy. It’s a newer medication which means there’s no generic form so I won’t be able to get it refilled unless the tariffs are lifted. I got some samples from the doctor’s office though which is a good thing. I research my meds when I take them and I learned that this one is a controlled substance. I wondered why. It’s a seizure medication. It’s not like it’s fentanyl or meth or something that makes you hallucinate. It’s because it causes euphoria. In other words: it can make you feel good. And somehow, that’s against the law.

That tells you everything you need to know about how this system views pleasure.

Drug laws in the U.S. weren’t built on science. They were built on moral panic and social control. Cocaine was criminalized when Black workers used it. Opium was outlawed when Chinese immigrants used it. Marijuana became illegal when Mexican immigrants used it. Every time “protect the public” was the excuse, but the real goal was control: control of behavior, control of consciousness, control of who gets to feel good and how.

The modern drug war still follows that logic. Feeling good isn’t criminal if you buy it from the right people. Alcohol, caffeine, prescription meds, streaming services, endless entertainment are all perfectly legal ways to numb yourself while staying productive and docile. Those industries make billions helping people escape, just enough to keep functioning.

But if you find a way to feel good without permission — without profit flowing upward — suddenly it’s a “public health crisis.” Suddenly you’re “abusing” pleasure.

The DEA says some drugs must be tightly regulated because they “cause euphoria.” But really, that’s code for “they might remind you that there’s more to life than work, debt, and stress.” They might make you want more from existence than the treadmill of consumption.

So the state steps in to keep your happiness manageable, your relief rationed, your joy prescribed. Euphoria is a threat, but not to your body … to your obedience.

It’s not that feeling good is against the law. It’s that feeling good outside of capitalism’s rules is.

I’m Sick of Living in a Country With a Price Tag on Survival

There’s something deeply wrong with a society that puts a dollar sign on everything: air, water, healthcare, housing, even hope.

In America, you don’t get to live, you get to rent existence. And the rent keeps going up.

Need to drink water? Better hope your tap isn’t poisoned, privatized, or shut off because you’re behind on the bill. Need to see a doctor? Hope you can navigate the insurance labyrinth, dodge bankruptcy, and survive long enough to get an appointment three months from now.

This isn’t a functioning society. It’s a hostile marketplace cosplaying as civilization.

We slap “In God We Trust” on the currency, but worship profit above all. Billionaires hoard resources like dragons while kids ration insulin. Corporations dump chemicals into rivers while charging us for clean water. Politicians talk about “personal responsibility” while handing corporate welfare to their donors.

Everything is for sale … except dignity.

This system wasn’t built to help us. It was built to extract from us. Your labor, your time, your energy, your life. All monetized. The only thing “essential” in this economy is your ability to generate profit for someone else.

And when you stop being profitable? You’re disposable. That’s the cold logic of capitalism. It doesn’t care if you suffer. It needs you to.

But here’s the thing: people are waking up. The cracks are visible. The rage is growing. The question now isn’t “Is this sustainable?”, it’s “What the hell are we going to do about it?”

We can’t shop our way out of this. We can’t vote our way out of it alone. This is going to take organizing. Disruption. Solidarity. Mutual aid. Refusing to play their game by their rules.

Because survival should not be for sale.

And I, for one, am done pretending this is normal.

Covered, But Not Really: My Latest Battle with U.S. Healthcare

I have Medicare. That should mean something, right?

I told my psychiatrist I have Medicare. I’ve seen them before. We’ve talked. I’ve paid my copay. It’s all been fine … until now. Now I’m being told they “don’t take Wellcare.”

What is Wellcare? It’s a Medicare Advantage plan. And if you haven’t had the misfortune of dealing with one of these “advantage” plans, let me explain: they’re private insurance companies that slap a Medicare label on themselves so they can skim government money and give you less coverage in return.

So even though I’m on Medicare, I now owe the full amount for my last visit. And unless I want to cancel my next appointment — which I actually need — I’ll be paying the full amount for that one too. Because apparently “covered” doesn’t mean “covered.” It means “maybe, sometimes, depending on how many loopholes we can find.”

This is what healthcare in America looks like.

You can do everything right. You can make sure you’re insured. You can communicate. You can follow every rule. And still you get blindsided. You get billed. And you’re left scrambling to afford the care you already thought you paid for.

Meanwhile, insurance companies profit off confusion. They profit off denial. They profit off people like me being left in the dark until the invoice hits.

This isn’t just frustrating, it’s designed this way. They make it complicated on purpose. If you get screwed, it’s your fault for “not understanding the network.” If you ask for help, they hand you a phone number and a maze of menus. And if you give up? Great. They win. Less to pay out.

This is not a healthcare system. It’s a profit machine dressed up like one.

And right now, I’m just another cog getting crushed in it.

Grind Till You Break: America’s Obsession with Hustle

America loves a good grind. We praise it, post about it, glorify it. If you’re not exhausted, caffeinated, and juggling three side hustles, are you even trying? But let’s be real: grind culture isn’t noble. It’s not empowering. It’s a trap. And America fell headfirst into it.

Here’s why the U.S. can’t stop romanticizing burnout:

1. We inherited a guilt-based work ethic

It starts with the Protestant work ethic, an old idea that hard work is a sign of moral virtue and maybe even diving approval. This mindset bled into American capitalism, turning labor into a moral obligation.

If you’re not working, you’re failing. If you’re resting, you’re suspect.

2. Capitalism depends on it

Grind culture keeps capitalism humming. The more you internalize the need to hustle, the less you question why wages suck, why healthcare is tied to your job, or why billionaires exist at all. Tired people don’t start revolutions, they start GoFundMes.

3. The American Dream is a rigged game

The myth goes like this: if you work hard enough, you’ll “make it.” So if you’re poor? You must not be grinding hard enough.

That’s how America blames individuals for systemic failure. It’s not the economy that’s broken, you just didn’t want it badly enough. Spoiler: the Dream mostly works for people who were already halfway there.

4. Individualism turned toxic

America doesn’t just glorify self-reliance, it weaponizes it.

We’re told to pull ourselves up by our bootstraps, even if we don’t have boots. Asking for help is weakness. Solidarity is socialism. Suffering becomes a badge of honor. So people burn out to prove they’re strong. Or worse … worthy.

5. Corporate propaganda fuels it

Workplaces love to “celebrate” hustle just enough to avoid paying for it. Overtime? That’s loyalty. Burnout? That’s dedication. Here’s a pizza party and a LinkedIn post, now get back to it. Meanwhile, the CEO makes more in a day than you will this year.

6. There’s no net below us

In most rich countries, healthcare is a right. In America, it’s a benefit–one you only get is you’re grinding hard enough at the right kind of job.

With no real safety net, people don’t grind to get ahead. They grind to avoid collapse. It’s fear dressed up as ambition.

7. Work becomes identity

Especially for men, but increasingly for everyone, work isn’t just what we do, it’s who we are. our value gets tied to productivity. Our self-worth depends on output.

Stop hustling, and suddenly you’re not broke … you’re nobody.

Bottom line:

Grind culture isn’t about freedom or fulfillment. It’s a coping mechanism for living in a system that doesn’t care if you collapse. The hustle is real, but so is the exploitation.

We don’t need more hustle. We need healthcare. We need time. We need solidarity.

TL;DR

America treats exhaustion like a status symbol, work like religion, and billionaires like gods.

Rest is rebellion.

And maybe … so is saying “no.”

“Can’t be king of the world unless you’re a slave to the grind.” -Skid Row

The Empire Needs More Bodies…

… and the bodies are broken.

I don’t normally post more than one blog a day, but I read something today that I had to bring to light. In plain sight on the White House’s official website was this:

“Seventy-seven percent of young adults to not qualify for the military based in large part on their health scores.”.

Let that sink in. Nearly 4 out of 5 young Americans are unfit to serve in the very institution that props up the U.S. empire. The military-industrial complex, for all its propaganda and promises of patriotism, is running up against a brutal biological reality: the bodies it depends on are crumbling under the weight of the society it helped create.

Decades of underfunded healthcare, over-processed food, environmental neglect, poverty wages, and mental health crises have produced a generation the empire can’t use. And instead of asking why so many are unwell, the system sees it as a recruitment problem. They’re scrambling–relaxing enlistment standards, pouring money into ad campaigns, and pushing JROTC deeper into high schools–not to uplift youth, but to harvest what’s left of them for war.

Because let’s be clear: the military doesn’t need healthy citizens–it needs usable soldiers. And when the well runs dry, the machinery starts to panic. That 77% figure isn’t just a number. It’s a red flag. A system built on endless war is discovering its fuel supply is contaminated. The bodies it needs are either too broken to fight or too wise to enlist.

So the question isn’t “How do we get more kids into uniform?” It’s “Why is this system so desperate for cannon fodder in the first place?” And what kind of future are we building if the only path to healthcare, education, or stability still runs through a recruiter’s office?

The empire’s war machine is hungry, but its appetite exceeds its supply. That should terrify everyone.

Congrats on the Tumor–You’re Fired!

Imagine waking up with chest pain, or getting hit by a drunk driver, or being diagnosed with cancer–and also still having to worry about whether your boss will still employ you next week so you can afford to stay alive.

Welcome to the great U S of A! Where your right to life is tied to your productivity.

We’ve normalized a system where healthcare is a perk, not a right. Like a company-branded tote bag or pizza in the breakroom. Need insulin to live? Better hope your employer hasn’t “restructured.” Broke your leg? You better not be unemployed–or you’ll be crawling to the E.R. and then into debt.

It’s cartoonishly dystopian when you think about it. We don’t tie firefighters to employment status. If your house is on fire, they don’t ask if you have a job before putting it out. But if your body is actually on fucking fire? Well, if you don’t have employer-sponsored insurance then best of fucking luck to you!

It’s also a massive scam. Tying healthcare to employment keeps people terrified of quitting, terrified of organizing, and terrified of speaking out. It’s wage-slavery dressed in HR-approved language. “We’re like a family” they’ll say. I’ve heard that one a few times in my life at work. Sure, a family that charges you $600 a month to maybe see a doctor if you’re lucky.

And don’t get me started on COBRA, the cruel joke of a system where you can keep your insurance after being laid off–by paying both your premium and the employer’s. As if anyone newly unemployed has a few extra grand lying around for monthly premiums. That’s not a bridge, it’s a toll road to bankruptcy.

Other countries keep healthcare as a basic human right. The USA treats it like a prize you can earn for being useful to capitalism.

Sick? Get a job. Too sick to work? Die quietly.

Let’s stop pretending this is normal. Let’s stop congratulating companies for offering healthcare, as if that makes them moral. The bare minimum shouldn’t feel like a gift.

Healthcare shouldn’t be a reward for surviving capitalism.

It should be a fucking right.

What “The Wire” Got Right About Drug Policy

If you’ve watched The Wire, you probably remember the “Hamsterdam” storyline in season three. It’s one of the most controversial, radical experiments in the show, and maybe in TV history. For those who haven’t seen it: a police major named Bunny Colvin, frustrated by the utter futility of the drug war, creates unofficial “free zones” where drug dealers can operate without interference. In return, they have to move their business out of residential neighborhoods. He doesn’t legalize drugs, he just stops enforcing the laws in those pockets.

It’s a mess. It’s hopeful. It’s heartbreaking. And it’s probably the most honest take on U.S. drug policy ever aired. The whole thing gets shut down, of course. Because it worked. Hamsterdam reduced violent crime. It made it easier to get help to addicts. It gave communities some relief. But it also violated every sacred cow in American law enforcement. You can’t admit the war on drugs is unwinnable. You can’t show mercy. And you sure as hell can’t make policy based on reality instead of moral panic. That’s the part that stuck with me—because Hamsterdam worked. Not perfectly. But it worked better than what we’ve been doing for fifty years.

Our drug laws have always been more about control than safety. More about punishment than healing. We criminalize addiction, lock up the poor, and turn neighborhoods into war zones—all while pretending we’re “getting tough” on crime.

Meanwhile, drug use continues, overdose deaths skyrocket, and entire communities are hollowed out by mass incarceration. Hamsterdam wasn’t a utopia. It had problems. But it was rooted in a radical idea: What if we treated drug users as people instead of criminals?

Imagine if we took all the money we pour into SWAT raids, private prisons, and DEA sting operations—and used it for housing, harm reduction, mental health care, and treatment on demand. Imagine if we decriminalized drugs entirely, stopped arresting people for possession, and focused on actually helping people instead of ruining their lives.

Portugal did it. Overdose deaths dropped. HIV rates dropped. People got healthier—and the sky didn’t fall. The U.S.? We double down on failure because we’re addicted to punishment. Because it feels good to punish.

That’s why Hamsterdam couldn’t survive. It was too honest. We need more honesty. We need more Bunny Colvins willing to break the rules because the rules are broken. And we need drug policy based on compassion, not cruelty. Because right now, the real crime isn’t using drugs, it’s pretending our system works when we know damn well it doesn’t.

Anti-Natalism Chronicles XIV: A Return

It’s going to be hard to type this since I’m on a different computer since my Mac is being serviced at the moment so sorry for any mistakes. It’s a bitch getting used to a different keyboard when you’ve used the same one for three years now. I wanted to talk once again about anti-natalism since that’s mostly what my blog is about and one of my main beliefs as a person.

I was sitting outside just now, having my morning coffee when I started thinking about my last relationship and how it ended because she brought up the fact that she wanted children one day. We had known each other for seven years. We dated for two of those seven years. She knew how I felt about having children and at one point said she didn’t want any, either. Out of the blue one night as we were lying in bed together she said she thinks she may want them one day. “Well, you know how I feel about that. Besides, you know I’ve gotten a vasectomy so it’s kind of a done deal for me.”

No harsh words were spoken or exchanged. We didn’t argue. We just kind of decided that this was one area where we weren’t going to be able to reach a compromise. There is no compromising when it comes to children. You either want them or you don’t and I don’t.

I had always joked that every girl from my hometown was born pregnant because they either had a baby by high school (middle school in some cases) or it was the first thing that happened after high school. Practically everyone I know now has at least one child so that sucks for me as far as dating is concerned. It’s just one of those things that’s a definitive “no” for me. Kind of like anal is a definitive “no” for a lot of women. Hey, you don’t do butt stuff. I don’t like kids. I respect your decision to not do butt stuff. Respect my decision to not have children.

I don’t think I’d make a good dad anyway. It’s not like I had a positive influence in the dad department growing up so who’s to say I wouldn’t be an asshole just like my father was? I’ve also got the mental and physical health issues going on so why would I risk bringing a child into the world with said issues? That’s something I’ve never understood about people who have mental issues, emotional issues, health issues, etc. that are genetic. If they’re genetic and you know you risk passing them onto your offspring then why do you go ahead with having your own offspring? Kind of a dick move on your part.

Maybe I have more compassion than others or I give myself credit for. I don’t want to bring any children into a world such as this one; a world plagued by violence, climate change, disease, and a number of other things that could go wrong and do go wrong on a daily basis. I see commercials for hospitals for children with cancer and just think to myself if only their parents didn’t have them at all then those children wouldn’t be going through what they’re going through right now.

We all want suffering to end so shouldn’t we be stopping it before it begins? There’s no suffering in non-existence. I’ve never once met a person who didn’t exist that had cancer. I’ve never once met a person who didn’t exist that got murdered for no reason at all. Call it a coincidence if you want, but I think there’s something more to my theory here.

If you already have children then by all means, love them with every fiber of your being and take care of them to the best of your ability.

If you don’t have children then do what’s best for the children you don’t have and leave them be in whatever dimension there is before birth. All that comes with existence is suffering and eventual death and heartbreak.