Saturday, September 13, 2014

Weed in the Workplace

There are so many things in the world that are fucked up.  My job, as I see it, is to help fix them by mentioning them on The Year of Magical Painting.  It is in this way that I make the world a better place.

You're welcome.

Exhibit A for today is journalism.  The New York Times, in its majesty, writes this about the newly revised drug agreement between the NFL and its players' union ...

Players will now have to be found with 35 nanograms of tetrahydrocannabinol per milliliter in their urine for a positive test, compared with the previous limit of 15 nanograms of THC per milliliter. 

Honestly, what does that even mean?  Did nobody at the editor's desk, the way they surely would have back in the day my Grandfather was a Timesman, say something like, "Honestly, what does that even mean?"?

Two question marks?
I wasn't sure what to do.

The point being, in addition to telling its readers about limits of THC in urine, a better journalist would have explained what that means in layman's terms.  Send the Times stringer in Colorado out to buy a joint of moderately powerful dope, smoke it, then have his urine tested.  Then have his urine tested three days later.  Then tell us about it.

Honestly.  Were I an NFL player I'd like to know exactly how much weed I can smoke before the game.

Exhibit B would of course be the motherfuckers who run companies like Verizon or Time Warner and expect us to make financial decisions based on how many megabytes of data we plan to use every month.  As if that's meaningful to the average person on any level.

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