Alcohol, Cannabis, Money and Mortality

I have not for a very long time felt so contested against an issue than I do against the idiotic proposal of a minimum alcohol price per unit.

Having been assaulted by a drunken moron within a few hundred yards of my home, I'm more than qualified to comment on the effects of alcohol abuse. Raising the price of such a despicable substance is in no way a solution to the problem. Raising the price of such a despicable substance simply earns the government more money. I'm all for that. If they can fuel their strange nonsensical crusades by penalising those who drink cheap alcoholic drinks, then sure, go ahead, but I'd like them to admit that this is their aim. Under no circumstances will this save lives. If someone is hellbent on drinking themselves first into oblivion and then later to death, they will manage it eventually. Money is immaterial to the dead man. Besides which, saving lives is not the duty of the government. If it is, then why would the government move to cannibalise the NHS?

I have a much more elegant solution to the falling levels of sobriety across Britain: the legalisation of cannabis. As an alternative depressant to alcohol, it is much less damaging to the user, much less likely to invoke violence and has never been known to cause any death, ever. Furthermore, legalising the substance allows the implementation of taxes upon it. This could easily earn HM Treasury more than raising the price of alcohol ever would. It would also limit funding to organised crime somewhat, as would the legalisation of prostitution, which could also be taxed. As I understand it, Köln makes quite some revenue from taxing prostitution, legalisation of which would also render safer the lives of prostitutes. Nonetheless, I was discussing the advantages of legalising cannabis, which are manifold.

Though more intoxicating in a mental sense, cannabis causes less damage to the body than tobacco and is less addictive than nicotine. Of course, smoking cannabis on a 15-minute break might have a greater effect on productivity than smoking tobacco, but workplaces generally forbid the consumption of alcohol whilst working on the job, so there should be no problem with forbidding the consumption of cannabis for employers. The same is true of transport, and public places may well still carry a smoking ban that extends to cannabis, though I cannot see any problem with consumption of special brew or spacecakes in a pub or licensed café, for instance. Since all of these products can be taxed and charges implemented for the relevant licenses, the government stands to rake in funds for its activities — the National Health Service, for example — through legalising cannabis.

Whilst I'm on the subject of legalising things, I also believe strongly that laws allowing or implementing the following would greatly improve society.

• Gambling age of 12
• Drinking age of 12
• Legalise prostitution, as vaguely outlined above
• The Alternative Vote system for General and Local elections
• 650 apartments in one building in Westminster, for MPs' second homes

I have arguments ranging from reasonable to firm and structured for the above, but this post is getting lengthy anyway, so I'll stop here.

Disagree with any of the above? Well, there is a space to leave comments below. It's possible to make them anonymously, but, really, an anonymous opinion is a worthless one. If you believe something, put your name to it.

Optimism

I know. I didn't think I was capable of it.

More than anything else, I'm looking forward to not living in this glorified Travelodge. I may have lost count, but I believe it's around 160 days until we can move into our house in Leamington. Here comes an exploration of all the things which will be much better in my new home.

First up, as it's on my mind, laundry. Currently, I have to walk about 50m to the building opposite if I want to wash my clothes. As such, I don't do that nearly often enough. Next year, the washing machine is 5m from my bedroom. Furthermore, my bedroom itself is a lot bigger, will have a sofa in it, a router, a server, some spare monitors, one hell of a printer, possibly a piano and much more wardrobe space and thus much more clothes. The only thing this bedroom has over my future one is its ensuite bathroom.

By some sort of anomalous geographical tragedy, The West Midlands are in the middle of nowhere, despite being in the middle of England. Meriden, Britain's furthest village from the sea, is closer to this University than anything which counts as civilisation. I feel sympathy for Coventry; whereas London is more than experienced in rising from the ashes, Coventry was completely forsaken after the Luftwaffe decided to tear it apart. Perhaps it was thriving and trendy in the '30s. So we have future house's next advantage: location.

Leamington Spa is a lovely little town. Rather deserted, unlike any similar settlement in Tyneside which all clump together to form a kind of sprawling metropolis, Warwickshire's towns are some distance from each other. Further, Leamington Spa has a McDonald's; Whitley Bay does not. Stupid protesting residents.

As a town, it really is quite something, and given that within a five-minute radius there is more than I can properly discuss, I'm going to forsake prose and venture into the hideous world of bullet points:

• Domino's Pizza
• McDonald's
• Every clothes shop imaginable.
• Pizza Hut
• Pizza Express
• Apollo Cinema — which is the nicest cinema I've ever known
• Yet more places that do pizza
• CEX
• Tesco Express
• Swimming Pool
• More quaint parks than anyone would ever need — picnics!
• A copious amount of pubs
• A more copious amount of clubs
• A TRAIN STATION! — I've never lived so close to a train station.
• Curry houses by the dozen

Really, as of August, the only time I have to leave Leamington is when I have lectures. Darned lectures: they take all the fun out of University.

And before I forget, the top five "best things" about my house next year are my housemates.

Home Alone

No man is an island, but I might just be a peninsula.

Having one's house to oneself is a thrill beyond even using the correct pronouns, ignoring the stylistic convention of a general "you" in order to avoid sounding like a character in a period drama. Note, I avoid such disasters by saying things of consequence from time to time, and not repeatedly commenting on how ridiculously proud Mr Darcy is. I've digressed.

Being home alone is brilliant as a child, especially with a house that is ordinarily filled with brothers and sisters. The novelty is not the only attraction. There's a post lingering around here from two years ago which tells of the numerous times I had bacon in one week that my family went on holiday without me. Needless to say, I wouldn't use 56 Otterburn as a den for gorging on pigs like a (cannibalistic) pig any more. 40 days meat-free, ladies and gentlemen.

This weekend, all but two of my fellow Flat 29ers are away. In a family home, I could roam around every room, pry toy-boxes, borrow any CD or DVD without permission and take as long as I want in the shower whilst the family is away. Here, this weekend, five rooms are locked, I'm stuck with my own meagre collection of media, and I can shower as long as I want whenever I want. En-suite bathroom, peeps; it even has a bath.

Furthermore, I'd ordinarily invite copious amounts of friends around to 56 whenever I had the place to myself, but I only have 29 to myself because my friends aren't here. It is a strange, paradoxical situation and I think the only way to combat it is to visit the Union's pub, The Dirty Duck, with the few remaining members of the clan who are currently dotted around campus.

Would you look at that? I actually blogged about something that happened.