I don’t speak Spanish, so my title is a guess. All I am trying to suggest is that the house I live in could be named, accurately, as the House of the Crazy Person Hours.

Or, more simply, as the House of Crazy Hours.

There are two humans, one feline, and countless flying rodents living under this roof in the country, and our schedules don’t seem to make much sense. Last night, suffering from a headache and my usual sleep disorders, sleep wouldn’t stick. So at 3 in the morning I took up work again, finishing an old project. After a few hours, I went back to bed again, successfully sleeping till the forenoon.

Down the hall from me, my housemate woke up about when I went to sleep, and, now that I am up and around, is thinking about going to sleep again.

Meanwhile, the cat just sleeps, oblivious.

Haven’t heard from the bats in a while.

Which is all just by way of explanation: because of my whacked-out sleep schedule, I let a half-finished blog post “publish” this morning. I was inattentive. It has now been removed from the blog. Those following this blog by email, however, got the half-written monstrosity in the email this morning, and for that I apologize.

So, back to my “regular day,” now, and to my reading.



I am not entirely against “thick” libertarianism, though in the past I may have expressed some skepticism about the popularity of the issue in libertarian circles. I can think of at least one attitude not strictly entailed by liberty that is almost certainly necessary for liberty to be maintained in a culture.

It is not anti-racism, or anti-sexism, or any the usual shibboleths of leftism. And it is not patriotism, a commitment to objective value, or a belief in a deity, as so often preached on the right.

It is the predominance of “mind your business.” That is, it is not being a busybody, and paying responsible care for the things one can most control, that is of paramount importance.

It Follows (2014, rated R) is not a movie about logic.

It is a teen sex-horror flick, where sexual intercourse immediately leads to spectacularly bad consequences — in this case a murderous supernatural stalker who can look like “anyone,” but only twice in the movie (that I could tell) chose to look like someone the characters know.

So, we “get” to see young people engage in normal sexual activity: that is, heterosexual coitus; nothing very kinky, somewhat discreetly shot. But the music is ominous, and there is not much erotic about the film, except perhaps for the first sex scene. The fear and horror kill the mood. It Follows might serve as a sort of anti-porn.

The premise is brilliant, in a sick and twisted way. The “It” that follows can take the shape of any human, but in its behavior it is obviously not human. It walks, and walks only, and when close lurches, thereby echoing zombie films, particularly of the classic variety. I won’t elaborate on it at length, especially since, as the movie ran, I kept thinking of ways to work around the premise’s “curse”: why not go island hopping?

What It follows is teen sexual activity, of course, so the easiest metaphor that comes to mind upon grasping the premise is that it sort of works as a metaphor for sexually transmitted disease. Or that ultimate killer of mood, a baby — sexual reproduction.

But one probably shouldn’t expend too much thought on it.

The films is better than most in this genre. Most people find it both brooding and creepy and ominous, on the one hand, and capable of delivering a few shocks of fright, on the other.

Interestingly, these “Its” are in most instances adult, and when adult are usually naked or at least in a state of advanced undress.

Yes, for much of the film, the heroine, a lovely older teen girl, is chased around by naked adults.

This helps conjure up rape fears, as well.

Interestingly, adult characters rarely intrude into the story as anything other than these maleficient “It’s,” and we witness teen life that has very little to do with adults. This is the horror of broken homes.

One of the girl characters is reading an ebook edition of Dostoevsky’s The Idiot, on a curiously designed shell-shaped e-reader. I will leave the passage she quotes from the book, narrated in the film, for other viewers to decide its importance.

Portions of the movie show some evidence of amateurism. Thankfully, not the acting. Mainly, the pulling of focus in some scenes. The score is digital synth, as if in homage to John Carpenter, though videos of classic grade Z horror flicks play in the cinematic background in many scenes.

There is not much humor in the film.

The lead actress is lovely, but not, interestingly enough, in conformity to the usual Hollywood twig-thin fashion model body type.

The film gets astoundingly high ratings on Rotten Tomatoes.

Hatred is the sin of the age, but love shines about almost nowhere.

For my part, I have great trouble hating even my enemies, though I sometimes succeed, for brief moments.

The language of today’s greatest hate haters, our ubiquitous leftist moral scolds, is almost completely Christian, and yet a more unchristian group can hardly be imagined.

It is obvious that most people turn to politics and cultural engagement on the legal and governmental end of the spectrum to work through or compensate for childhood trauma. Hence the witless simplicity of not only the standard views of social causation, but of right and wrong, value and disvalue. 

In reviving the obsessions of Mrs. Grundy, within the framework of post-Christian ethics, today’s college- and media-centric progressives — along with their mostly puzzled opponents, the Fox/newsradio conservatives — have forgotten the greatest gift civilization gives: security and progress in the context of baseline indifference.

It is indifference, not love, that must be defended — as the bedrock, perhaps, of civilization. That is, indifference backed by a technical respect for a limited set of rights, which allow for extensive voluntary co-operation. So maybe it is not indifference-as-such, but indifference flourishing as the context for co-operation.

Yes, voluntary co-operation has a flip side as well as an edge: non-co-operation. For every act or cause with which any person chooses to expend scarce time and attention, a million others must go begging. One must regard those unchosen options as “not worth it,” recognizing that one is practically (if not fancifully) indifferent to them.

The trouble with today’s moralistic Grundyism, aside from its essential ugly, intrusive and totalitarian nature, is its assault on the necessity of non-co-operation. By constantly fretting about a few instances of non-inclusion, the scolds identify non-co-operation as their bête noir, and thereby undermine civilization with their childish dualism of love/hate and inclusion/exclusion. 

They fail to see the spiritual liberation in mass (if technical) indifference. They lose track of the strategic place that justice has in our moral economy, and revive the old Christian heresy that “justice is love.”

The Piccolino Eponymy: An instance of excessive artistic self-reference, as in “songs about songs” and “songs about dances,” or “movie scripts about writers” and “films about actors,” but going that extra mile by identifying itself as its own title.

“Turkey in the Straw” probably seemed the height of brilliance at its debut, and in the early days of its popularity, because of that key passage in its lyrics where it names itself as its own very tuneful self, that is, “Turkey in the Straw.”

But it seemed “kinda dumb” when I first heard it, and remains, to this day, just the most memorable dumb song that refers to itself as its own title. Years later people would sing “Let’s do the…” Twist, Hokey-Pokey, who-knows-what. No real difference.

Some whole genres solipsistically do this on a regular basis, not by particular title but in praise of the genre itself: “It’s only ‘rock ’n’ roll’ but I like it.” Yawn. (I say this as I quote from my favorite rock concept album.)

Named for the worst song in a great movie, Top Hat. The song, of course, is one whose lyrics celebrate a song titled “The Piccolino.”

Answered on Quora: “Would Republicans hate Hillary Clinton if not for HillaryCare?”

The human animal is a hierarchical one, but how and whether a man or a woman acquiesces (or readily assents) to any particular Alpha leader depends a great deal on … sexual style.

Bill Clinton’s sexual style seems “caring” and non-threatening to left tribalists, but comes off as predatory and insincere to right tribals. His extra-marital dalliances served as a straightforward affront to those of conservative temper, who have stronger commitments to monogamy than do those on the left. No surprise there, since those on the left have some grounds to claim the sexual revolution as legitimately and primarily theirs.

William Jefferson’s wife is a much colder creature, in no way easy to accept by anyone. Still, her leftist and feminist shibboleths please left tribals, while they offend rightists. Further, her apparently open marriage and tight political allegiance with her husband seems calculating and downright malign to those who were offended by him.

So of course the hatred for Hillary runs deep.

HillaryCare offended those of a more conservative temper not simply because it was more socialistic than later ObamaCare, but also because it was a major policy change constructed mostly — and quite deliberately — in secret. Hillary loves secrecy and working “behind the scenes” even unto this day, as the email server scandal continues to balloon out of all proportion.

This shows that Hillary has no real talent for democratic co-operation or compromise.

She can compromise, sure, but the compromises are all back-room deals, usually made with big companies and monied interests. They smack of corruption in more than one way. From cattle future trades to the illegal support she regularly receives from big corporations (one of my relatives boasted, once, being paid by a major pharmaceutical to “give” her campaign money), Hillary appears as nothing other than a “player,” a deceitful manipulator of interests; she is probably the most obviously corrupt pol of our time.

What she is, in fine, is an imperial politician, better suited to an ancient royal court or a modern totalitarian dictatorship than a constitutional republic.

The simple fact that her supporters don’t see this as a problem strikes her opponents as not merely bizarre, but as an indicator of how lost the progressive cause has become.

It is best to see the distrust of HillaryCare as merely emblematic, not constitutive, of her opposition’s deep distrust and loathing for The woman herself.

When approaching the abyss, laugh, but don’t dance. When aiming at Zeno’s target, don’t expect always to hit it, though don’t attribute your failure to Zeno’s loopy logic. (That goes for you, too, Eros.) Do not fear the gods; do not fear death; good things are easy to get; suffering is easy to endure.

Modern paraphrase of the last line, the Epicurean Tetrapharmikon:

Do not fear the gods, or lack thereof; do not fear death, one’s ultimate dissolution, or de-systemization; do not fear boredom; when in pain, distract yourself, attend to the not-painful, maybe even try to get some work done.

Humility is the best policy. It’s either all-too-apt, or an instance of being on the high end of the Dunning-Kruger skills continuum.

It’s better to be thought of at that high end, and overzealously self-deprecating, than actually at the low end of the continuum and comporting oneself as an ass.

I’m thinking of a new judgmental trap, however: The Dunning Macleod Effect. I name it after economist H. Dunning Macleod, of course.

10672307_833793376655015_7764855380977681825_nMacleod was one of his time’s most lucid writers on economics. He was also fantastically knowledgeable about the history of the science and the practice of finance — far in excess of most of his better-thought-of contemporaries. He knew what he knew, too. No false humility. But this self-knowledge not only encouraged him to make some important and quite sensible claims that ran completely contrary to the accepted paradigm of his day, it also emboldened him to think that every one of his paradigm-shifting notions was just as valuable as the rest. And he was occasionally wrong — sometimes spectacularly so; more often he got close to the truth, and then veered off at the last moment, making his error more noticeable if not more intolerable.

Unfortunately, his self-confident iconoclasm signaled to his peers that they could safely ignore nearly everything he said, dismissing his good ideas along with the bad.

All most readers took from Macleod was his suggested name change for the discipline, from “political economy” to “economics.” That proved his only substantial legacy. Everything else that he was right about had to enter the tradition from other sources. (Though it is worth noting that Herbert Spencer’s best essay on economics, “State Tampering With Money and Banks,” was a review of one of Dunning Macleod’s many treatises, a notable expansion on his ideas.)

Thus the Dunning Macleod Effect: discouraging a necessary degree of self-criticism while encouraging hyper-criticism and even dismissal by others. It’s as if breaking a paradigm taboo uncorks the inner crank while corking up the staid status quo.



Robert Reich is the American left’s most enthusiastic demagogue. His propaganda pleases swaths of barely educated Americans into thinking that there is careful analysis and “science” deeply embedded into their predictable policy preferences. Every now and then I seek his Internet presence out, hoping to find titterworthy nuggets of nincompoopery. I am rarely disappointed.

On January 23, 2015, at his Facebook site, I grabbed the above post, and its first three responses. It is actually above the usual quality. Reich presents three theses, each sporting a sort of superficial plausibility. But each is, nevertheless, wrongheaded. It’s long past midnight as I write this, so I’m not going to essay anything other than a hit-and-run point-by-point commentary:

Herewith the three biggest mythologies that prevent us from seeing what’s really happening to our political economy:

It is “myths,” not “mythologies.” Reich tarted up his post with the wrong big word.

1. The “job creators” are CEOs, corporations, and the rich, whose taxes must be low in order to induce them to create more jobs. Rubbish. The real job creators are the vast middle class and the poor, whose spending induces businesses to create jobs. Which is why raising the minimum wage, extending overtime protection, enlarging the Earned Income Tax Credit, and reducing middle-class taxes are all necessary.

Literally, CEOs, corporations, and entrepreneurs are the job creators. They are the ones who take capitalists’ (investors’) wealth and invest it into productive processes that include labor, which is hired and paid from the funds managed by CEOs and other managers, corporations, proprietorships, partnerships, and entrepreneurs. The funds come from savers — mostly but by no means exclusively “the rich” — or any who have a stock of capital that can be devoted to production.

So what is Reich trying to say here?

Well, he is echoing a point made most strenuously by several strains of economists since  J.-B. Say, at least: that it is consumers who ultimately pay the wages, and indeed the profits, of  business. But Reich simplifies the story too much.

It is one thing to say “consumers ultimately pay” as a theorem of advanced economic reasoning. It is another to deny the reality of who pays what, or of the inconvenient fact that Reich does not ever mention: the possibility of loss.

For while it is true that all capitalist production is directed for ultimate consumption — Carl Menger made this point most clearly — it is also true that many business enterprises fail to satisfy consumer demand. Fickle horde  that they are, consumers are free to balk at paying the amount for the goods produced at prices that would cover costs. The spurned business then fails to make a profit — indeed, suffers loss — and the prospect of satisfying consumer demand (not “spending” as such, but expected spending) that “induced” the enterprise in the first place failed. Didn’t pan out.

So, who lost here?

Not the consumers: they didn’t buy what they didn’t want.

Not the workers in the business that ultimately failed: they got paid, even if their work turned out to be, in the ultimate sense, “unproductive.”

That is, they produced goods that no one wanted, so it would have been better had they done something else. The trades with consumers did not amount to enough to make the effort worthwhile, but, meanwhile, the workers got paid. Their wages, which served (from the business’s and investors’ point of view) as an advance on the expected profits, were paid not ultimately by the consumers (who did not go along with the hope) but by the capitalists (investors via entrepreneurs or managers). The sense in which workers jobs are paid by consumers does not  hold true when the business fails to supply enough goods at the right prices for profit. In cases of failure, value has been lost, and the hit gets taken by the investors.

This is important because it shows that merely inducing investor and entrepreneurial production is not enough. It has to be successful production. Unsuccessful businesses are also induced by consumer demand. But they are of little or no use.

So when you take wealth (money) away from those with savings (“the rich”) to give to those with less in savings, so that the latter (“the poor”) can spend money for goods the better to “induce” investment . . . that money taken away was money that would have been used to invest. Or spend.

Here is the tricky part. In the model provided by Reich, the rich have money and the poor do not; the “vast middle class” has some. So, apparently, he believes that when the rich spend or invest their money, it does not matter for “the economy.” Only spending by the non-rich matters. Why on earth would that be? To the extent that “the rich” spend money on consumer goods, their money “induces” productive processes, too. Which would employ non-rich in the process.

Further, the money the rich save for later tends not to be hoarded in vaults or under four-post beds, but invested directly or lent out at interest, where it either spurs investment or consumer spending (depending on whether the loans are commercial loans or consumer loans). Thus the third commenter to Reich’s post gets the award for most witless point possible.

The truth is, taking from some to give to others hurts those some to help those others. And in context of the fact that it is in mutually beneficial trades that advances in wealth get made (as goods make their way to those who value them most) the unseemly fixation on robbing from the rich to pull a Robin Hood act flouts that principle of increasing value, advancing wealth creation. Indeed, taking from the rich not only hurts the rich, but it also has the unfortunate effect of decreasing (by some margin) jobs.

It is Reich’s point that is “rubbish.” Robbing from the rich may seem wonderful if you are poor, but if your best hope of a job evaporates because you have taken the wealth that would have gone to creating the job, then no advance has been made at all.

There is an embedded assumption in Reich’s scenario that not only seems true, but is. For this appears to be the universal rule: people, rich or poor, try to meet their most urgent needs first, consuming to stave off hunger first, then to stave off malnutrition, the to satisfy more aesthetic cravings;  folks marshal their resources to fend off homelessness, then lack of good clothing, etc. etc. Saving for tomorrow (or tomorrow’s morrow) is what you do after you have covered the basics. This is why Reich thinks that new money in the hands of the poor or the middle-class swath will lead to immediate spending. Because their needs are more immediate. The more wealth you have, the more likely you are to save. And invest.

But Reich’s little scenario has a flaw in it. What is it?  Because the poor are more likely to spend (we both agree, Reich and me) than the rich are, by taking wealth from the rich you are decreasing the stock of wealth that would likely be devoted to risky endeavors. Like being induced by possible profit to ramp up a business enterprise, hiring on more people.

By fixating on the wealthy as targets, he has also targeted job creation itself.

His assertion to the contrary is merely that: assertion.

“Inducing” production by having wealth to trade (money to spend) is not production itself. Consumption is not production. It is not creation. Consumption is the final stage of commerce, wherein all that added value in the production process (including trade by middle-men) is, as J.-B. Say put it, “the destruction of value.” Production, when done right, produces value. And that value is finally consumed.

Consumers qua consumers do not create. Producers qua producers create. Reich inverts this and calls it profundity.

Reich, by aiming to rob from the rich takes from them their most vital function: providing the capital for creating goods that, in a free society, are mass produced for the masses.

What Reich misses in all this is the problem of relative prices. Businesses try to set prices that people will pay. That includes labor, too. That is, wages must be high enough to induce a consumer off his ass and go to work.

We live in troubled times, now, economically. There is, like in the 1930s, mass unemployment, endemic unemployment. Permanent unemployment. Much of this is the result of the boom-and-bust cycle in business activity, caused mostly, I believe, by bad monetary and banking policy, and cheap credit. This easy money induced (heh, there’s that word again!) businesses to invest in processes that couldn’t be sustained. So they went bust. And the financial system took a huge hit. And government got involved at every level, in even more intrusive and destructive ways than usual.

One way government messed things up is by trying to prop up labor prices (wages) and other prices. So Reich’s panacea, increased minimum wages, is the last thing we want.

Now, I know: It sounds good, “the minimum wage,” because it sounds like you have given everybody a wage increase. And if that were true, fine.

But what has happened is a labor price floor has been mandated, prohibiting lower rates. So, those who keep their jobs have more money. But those who lose their jobs, or who don’t find jobs because they are increasingly scarce at the new, higher rate, are penalized.

The poverty of Reich’s myth-busting argument can perhaps best be seen in his proposals.

2. The critical choice is between the “free market” or “government.” Baloney. The free market doesn’t exist in nature. It’s created and enforced by government. And all the ongoing decisions about how it’s organized — what gets patent protection and for how long (the human genome?), who can declare bankruptcy (corporations? homeowners? student debtors?), what contracts are fraudulent (insider trading?) or coercive (predatory loans? mandatory arbitration?), and how much market power is excessive (Comcast and Time Warner?) — depend on government.

This is a point that has a modicum of merit. Free markets are unregulated markets in the sense that they have no prohibitions on trade, or mandated (coerced) trades, or price floors and ceilings set. That is what is meant by a “free market.” But markets do require a legal (and political) substructure. That substructure defines rights to property, and defends those rights. Even some anarchists call this level of institution “government” — they just think the government should not have taxing power or an ability to force someone to sign up for the service in providing rights protection. So if an anarchist can agree with Reich on this, what is his point? Reich is no anarchist.

Reich is actually playing fast and loose with dichotomies. Like with his conflation of production and consumption, above, here he is trying to say “free markets require government — so shut up about the dangers of government, you laissez faire dopes!”

Well, there is a difference between laissez faire (French for “let them be”) and dirigisme (French for “control”), and that difference pertains to the scope of government. Laissez faire requires government to be limited by a rule of law. Dirigisme, as F. A. Hayek ably argued in The Road to Serfdom, necessarily erodes that law, because government bureaucracies insert themselves into all processes, always meddling. A rule of law concentrates on bringing order to the means, on establishing limits to action; central planning, whether by bureaucracies or directly by legislatures or dictators, is concerned with the ordering of ends. Under laissez faire, you take care of the means by government; under dirigisme, you take care of the ends by government. Or try to.

The modicum of a point that Reich has, here, is used to deceive. He is trying to fool people into thinking that very different things are not different because they share an element in common. But the differences remain. And since I have taken to using the old French terms, let me just say, Vive la différence!

3. We should worry most about the size of government. Wrong. We should worry about who government is for. When big money from giant corporations and Wall Street inundate our politics, all decisions relating to #1 and #2 above become biased toward those at the top.

Once again, I begin by agreeing with Reich. The problem of government isn’t size as such. It is proportion. Scale.

And let us go further with Reich: we should worry about who government is for. Yes. Undoubtedly.

It should be for everybody — everybody willing to forgo gains from plunder for gains  through co-operation. The basic “moral deal”  is a reciprocal agreement not to exploit, but to deal straight. Government should apply the same set of rules to all.

And that is what laissez faire does. It defends the rights of all. And by limiting coercion to the defense of just those rights, everything else is let be, decided by the people who are valuing, acting in society.

By forbidding governmental institutions as well as businesses and individuals from stealing, the laissez faire rule of law prevents a parasite class from developing. A parasite/predatory class.

By forbidding coercion and duress in the making of contracts, proscribing price floors or ceilings, and making no room  for the allotment of privileges, government grants no advantages to some at the expense of others.

Reich, of course, immediately wanders off, talking about lobbying and donations in politics. In this, he evades the real issue: the reason those groups do all that lobbying, all that influencing. The reason is clear. When government is allowed to decide anything, any trade, any rate, any level of plunder (taxation), any granting of favor, everybody has cause to defend himself, and then, further, opportunity to obtain specific advantages that others don’t.

When everything is permitted in theory, everybody scrambles to get special permissions in practice.

For some reason, modern progressives play the part of witless Caliban, unable to look in the mirror and see the monster for what it is. It is they who have eroded any constitutional limits on government taking and giving, and have thus unleashed the whirlwind. It is they who allow some rich folk, and some businesses, to gain the upper hand in the marketplace. Why? They have replaced free markets with managed markets. This political swap has real-world consequences. Managed markets entail a political bidding war for who gets to control management, and thus determine winners and losers.

Robert Reich thus proves himself a useful idiot of the class of people he says he fights against, “the rich.” (Or perhaps not so “idiot”: he is well-paid for his assistance.)

Please, please, do not buy the brummagem he is selling. Do not allow yourself to become the useful idiot of a useful idiot.

If you want to restrain the forces of class warfare and plutocracy and what Thomas Jefferson called “the parasite economy,” opt for a rule of law.

That is, opt for laissez faire.

Philosophy and Christianity have been mostly at loggerheads from the beginning . . . of Christianity.

My side is with philosophy. No doubt about that. But having watched God’s Not Dead for the first time tonight, I have to say that I am not exactly on that proselytizing film’s critics’ side. The movie is not as bad as most critics make out. It is well acted, tightly plotted and edited, artfully framed with incidental music, and contains several juicy, fun scenes.

At base, God’s Not Dead is about a philosophical argument. Kevin Sorbo plays an atheist philosophy professor who professes atheism but engages in almost no philosophical argumentation.

I would like to say this makes the film horribly unrealistic, but I have heard stories about such abominations in colleges. Sorbo’s Prof. Radisson is a terrible teacher, and there is little evidence demonstrating his expertise in his subject. Surely most philosophers would leap at a student’s interest in a subject dealt with in many different ways during the course of philosophy. Instead, Radisson tries to skip the theology section of his philosophy course by demanding that each student sign a piece of paper saying “God is dead.”

An absurd approach to teaching, and no way to cover philosophy, which began, after all, as the critique of both religion and common sense.

But it does not really seem too far out of the stream of bad teaching in America.

His foil is our hero, a young Christian student who stands up for God in class.

Philosophers who like movies might want to contrast it with Agora, a film set in late antiquity Egypt starring Rachel Weisz as the neo-Platonist philosopher Hypatia.

Whereas God’s Not Dead is fiction, with a shaggy god ending, Agora retells a historical tale. Fictionalized, of course.

In Agora, as in history, a  mob of Christians kills the philosopher.

In God’s Not Dead, the filmmaker kills off the atheist professor . . . fictionally, giving him a deathbed conversion to boot.

This is how Christianity has progressed: from lying about and killing a philosopher to discrediting a philosophical position by “killing off” the vexatious representative character.

In a film that also depicts (fairly realistically) a Muslim father who disowns and throws out of his house a daughter who converts to Christianity, I would say that this is a kind of progress.

Still, the attack upon reason goes on. In real life, a number of years ago, Christians got their hands on senescent atheist philosopher Antony Flew, cajoling him into a half-assed repudiation of some of his previous positions. The devil takes the hindmost; Christians pick off the weakest.

Most critics of GND hated it, saying it was too simplistic and tendentious. Objectively, that is true. But we are talking movies here. Simple-minded and tendentious is the new style, no? That’s what all political movies are, basically. Michael Moore, anyone?

It is not as if today’s highly politicized ideological culture is better when it comes to politics. It is not.

For my part, the biggest disappointment in the film is not the convenient death of the professor. It is the ending at a Christian Rock concert. If I wanted to disprove the existence of God, I might point to Christian Rock as all the proof I need. God cannot even make a miracle of converting young people to like great music. Instead, they adopt CR as a smoker switches to vaping. The drug is there. It is just a new delivery system.


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