It’s been about a week since Washington State made weed and gay marriage legal. It’s been a pretty disappointing week. All the doomsday scenarios trotted out by (strictly platonic) Jesus-lovers sadly never came to pass.
There’s been no sudden spike in couched people. Doritos supplies are strong. People aren’t filing lawsuits to legally marry their horses or their cars or their iPads. Straight married couples aren’t calling it quits because their union suddenly feels less special. Kids’ heads aren’t exploding when their classmates introduce them to their two mommies. Pastors aren’t being arrested. Hotboxing drivers blinded by a purple kush haze aren’t running down young Christian families crossing the sidewalk to church, their anguished heterosexual cries drowned out by the driver’s Sublime playlist. God hasn’t sent hurricanes or locusts or dry, itchy skin to afflict the heathens for their heathen ways. Hostess did go bankrupt after the election (timing!), but not because of stoners, who certainly mourn the loss more than most Americans.
If anything this week felt just like the one before it.