I have often joked that if my friends heard I’d died during a bank robbery, their first question would be “Was he robbing the bank?” This, I suppose, is fair.
When you hear that someone you know has been killed after being hit by a car you feel terrible. Strangely enough, you feel a little less terrible after you hear that he was pissed drunk. For whatever reasons, you feel even less terrible if you find out that he was running around in traffic, wearing a shirt that read, “Please Hit Me I Can Use The Money!” Lastly, we wouldn’t know how to feel if we found out our acquaintance was run down by the mother of the infant he was about to sacrifice to Satan. The point of all this?
Today I read an article by Wendy Stueck in The Globe and Mail. To quote:
Since 2003, Vancouver has been the only city in North America where drug addicts can shoot heroin into their veins at an officially sanctioned injection site.
Now some of the same voices that lobbied for the site are suggesting supervised inhalation rooms for crack addicts, saying such facilities would help connect users with treatment programs and help fight the spread of HIV/AIDS.
SUPERVISED INHALING ROOMS?
I work. I pay taxes. I can legally purchase cigarettes. Yet do you think I can find a spot in this country where I can have a smoke inside? Absolutely not. Now we’re expected to funnel health care money to supervised inhaling rooms? How about we funnel money to having crack dealers arrested and thrown in jail? How about we funnel money to getting people off of crack? How about we funnel money into education so that people don’t end up doing crack in the first place? How about we spend our health care dollars on something other than supervised inhaling rooms?
This may be a knee-jerk reaction to reading the article but I still don’t think that everyone should be allowed to be as blameless as we want to paint them. Actions must have reactions. Lives must have repercussions. To live in a society where no one was ever at fault would leave us with a bunch a rowdy yahoos running around in traffic and leaving us to clean up the mess.
Read Wendy Stueck’s original article in The Globe and Mail HERE