There is no prison as isolated as the human body, rolling from the pinnacle of birth through a huge and bizarre landscape until the inevitable conclusion in a valley of silent mystery, and there is no escape from this life sentence. We are all condemned to living, with only one form of release, and no chance of appeal. As Jim Morrison said, 'no-one here gets out alive.'
Such nihilistic philosophy is not an everyday topic for conversation, and most people wander through their life anaesthetised by a strange balm of optimism, convinced that life is rich in meaning and death is something which happens to others - the ultimate form of the 'it'll never happen to me' syndrome. As Freud pointed out, human beings are incapable of truly accepting the inevitability of their own death. Only a handful of people in our society seem to pull the crisis of our existence into the foreground of their minds and conversation - some from the point of view of offering answers through religion, and others from the point of view of the questioner. However the two groups are united in their understanding that being alive can be viewed as a terminal disease. And in reality, many of the people who fall into the former category rarely think deeply about the fragility of existence, viewing such negative philosophy as wrong and harmful - a betrayal of their spiritual roots. The vast majority of humanity is living life as though it will never end, never contemplating about their origins or destiny - under the illusion of immortality. The mystery lies in how people manage to do this - how do we silence or drown out the ever-growing tolls of our own funeral bell? The answer is found in escapism.
Escapism finds many different forms, from extremes of activity to extremes of sloth, to the ultimate in healthy living to the devastation of the heroin addict, but in the end escapism seeks to combat the same problems. Our society is loathe to make such a comparison, and as a result there are laws placed on what forms of escapism are acceptable and which forms are not. Such a dichotomy is plainly seen in the area of drug legislation, where most reasoning for prohibition is easily shown to be nonsensical, reactionary and not thought through. Our society thrives on the denial of our tenuous existence, and creates laws as though there was a purpose or an ultimate destination for our living and breathing on this lonely planet - ignoring the fragility of our hold on life.
A popular, and rather interesting, topic of late night conversation revolves around the possibilities that would be open to people if they knew that the world would end tomorrow - what the wishes and actions of individuals would be. In the Neil Simon work 'Biloxi Blues' there is a competition between trainee soldiers during the Second World War where they discuss what they would do if they knew that they were never going to return from the War, and a prize is awarded to the best fantasy. Responses vary from soldier to soldier, one wants to visit his family one last time, another wants to find the perfect girl, fall in love, and lose his virginity. A third soldier lowers the tone somewhat by wanting to sleep with the Queen, and the winning fantasy sees the Platoon Sergeant forced to do 200 push-ups in front of the platoon. For the soldiers in Neil Simon's book this was merely entertainment for a cold night, an exercise which many of us will have tried at some point or another.
One important fact emerges from such conversations - the normal rules of society which keep our desires and behaviour in check are suspended in the face of death. Anything to take away the fear of the immanent is acceptable, any form of escapism is kosher, the moments remaining are all-important and normality is ignored. If one of the great cataclysms from a 50s 'B' movie were to happen for real, and all the American heroes were on holiday, it is likely that 'anything would go'. Bill Clinton would try cannabis again, and this time he would inhale. Mary Whitehouse would become Madame Whitehouse, open for all-comers. The moral majority would rapidly lose the moral highground in the face of their destruction! In fact the laws on drugs would probably become the least important laws, dissolving under such terminal conditions - and all forms of escapism available today would be revealed as equal to each other, no single activity carrying more or less moral baggage than any other. The rich businessman becomes partners with the opium addict - partners in fatality.
This is merely speculation, and cannot be used as an argument for or against the uses of drugs in society today. However, without a spiritual dimension to life we are, if we are honest, left with a nihilism which adopting elements of the nihilistic view of life - a view which adequately describes the basic human condition in the absence of a spiritual dimension - leaves us continually in such a catastrophic position. One wrong step on a road, a single badly stored pbti, or an inappropriately timed insult could terminate our existence as finally as any errant meteor from another solar system. Even if we avoid all of these fates won't save us, as the years will finally achieve what we have been afraid of all our lives. It appears that we are indeed in the last years of our own particular world - should people be denied the escapism which they desire?
Terminally ill patients are often heavily treated with powerful drugs to remove some of the pain of their condition and not only is this practice legal and encouraged, but it obtains the vote of the moral majority, and is even seen as an admirable act. If ever escapism is necessary it is in the final stages of a cancer or a major illness, but such methods of escapism are denied to others in society who are, in a sense, just as terminally ill - our mortality comprising the universal terminal illness.
Of course such an argument would never be accepted by those who advocate a ban on drugs, and good reasons can be used to back their decisions - many drugs will speed the taker towards the very end that they are trying to forget about. However, this is also true for many acceptable forms of escapism, and is therefore of insufficient force to be used as an argument. Again we return to the same theme - why are some forms of escapism acceptable to society and others are not? In the absence of any reasonable argument it seems fair to suggest that the legalisation of drugs would equalise a flaw in our twentieth century, Western thinking.
People today have much more 'leisure' time than was often possible in the fledgling society of centuries ago, and it is likely that for many the feeling of emptiness and isolation evident in human existence is more acute and more common than ever before in human history. Of all the years that humanity has existed, perhaps our western society has created for itself the greatest need for escapism, the philisophical analgesic, than ever before, and in such a climate it seems unreasonable and indeed unethical for governments to limit and regulate the types of escapism which are available. In fact politics and legislative work can been seen as a form of escapism in their own right! Revelling in one form of escapism whilst banning another seems unfair.
It seems reasonable that we should look again at our views on the ethical nature of escapism, removing the moral weighting placed on particular activities and, once accepting that any activity is neutral in itself, we should reassess our views on the nature of drug-taking as a whole. Perhaps drugs are merely one of many spoonfuls of sugar necessary to make the bitter medicine of our lonely life stay down.