In a move sure to stun future generations while staying true to his Lutheran and Epsilon roots, the Minnesota house and senate led by Governor Mark Dayton, winning the big one for his home team, finally signed into law a bill sponsored by Hibbing’s very own Carly Melin, a fine example of Range woman herself, attractive and learned, also with probable Scandinavian and German heritage, with neither of them having ever had any actual experiences or contact with the Cannabis plant themselves, on their persons or with any of their families or friends therein … with only the testimony of others around them hearing secondhand tales from mothers about their children, many of whom are too young or infirm to speak, through great courage are today mounting this bill on behalf of all the epileptic children in Minnesota with hundreds of seizures a month if they can only hang on for another fourteen while supply systems are provided, the Federal Government is evaded, and Minnesota sets up the infrastructure necessary to sustain this bill long enough to become competitive with the likes of Oxycotin and Celebrex. So that someday, maybe people from all walks of pain in life will benefit from this historic Cannabis Treaty once the economy develops around it, and the marijuana and mining monies are able to trickle down ten to fifteen years from now back into that eternal tsunami of baby boomers coming down the tube, wellspring of life as we know them. They who grant us everything and taketh away.
We need to think long term here. These people know things that we don’t. You have to give them time to figure it all out and do the research. Doctors, lawyers, insurance and research all requires great expense and nice buildings, and dying children need to understand this.
So thanks not just to Governor Mark Dayton, but for all you politicians, for keeping your proper distance from the things you are today signing into law. Watch indeed before you wade into murky or sultry waters without protection, financial or not. Lack of experience or unknowing as you were, is sometimes not the best way to forge ahead in this dark cave spelunking where you have no lantern. Senate and House members, you should still be able to get your bags of weed or cocaine and your prostitutes somewhere around Lake and Franklin for the time being when you desire to become “experienced.” Me, I just get high on life. In Lester, with my Winchester, or in a driving Spring Rain with the birds singing in vain because my MP3 keeps playing Crazy Train over and over again. Thank you all for your hard work. And may God light up your evening trail and illuminate your sensory perceptions with a technicolor sunset at least once more before you go gently unto that good night.
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