They burned the truth and buried the evidence. All to protect the plastic, the pills, and the paper.
In the 1930s, hemp was a threat not to public health, but to profit margins. DuPont had nylon. Hearst had timber. Together, they built a campaign so racist, so dishonest, it rewrote federal law. They renamed cannabis “marijuana,” pinned it to brown skin, and screamed bloody madness until the government blinked. The Marijuana Tax Act passed. Science died. And we’ve been digging out ever since.
It’s 2025, and cannabis is still Schedule I still legally more dangerous than meth. Still “no accepted medical use.” Still federally criminal, while half the country sells it like kombucha and the other half dies in silence.
This isn’t policy. This is war.
A war on medicine. On patients. On truth.
Every year, people crawl through pain just to avoid jail. Cancer patients vomiting from chemo are still told “no.” Veterans with PTSD still risk arrest for treating themselves. Children with seizures. Seniors with arthritis. The sick, the dying, the forgotten. They’re all punished for seeking relief from a plant that’s been used for 5,000 years and demonized for less than a hundred.
Why? Because the lie is profitable.
Big Pharma sells opiates. Cannabis kills pain naturally.
Big Tobacco sells stress relief. Cannabis calms without cancer.
Big Alcohol sells escape. Cannabis sells clarity.
The prison system sells quotas. Cannabis sells peace.
Peace doesn’t sell.
So they buried it under Schedule I. Wrapped it in fear. Dressed it up as danger. And left generations of Americans to rot in cells or suffer in silence, while white markets thrive and Wall Street cashes in.
The hypocrisy isn’t subtle.
It’s the business model.
This is not about getting high. It never was.
It’s about power.
Over your body. Over your health. Over your mind.
Control the medicine, control the people.
The DEA knows it’s wrong. The NIH knows it’s wrong. Even the FDA recommended rescheduling last year. But nothing moves. Why? Because the law isn’t broken, it’s working exactly as intended. It protects the powerful, silences the rest, and grinds reform into dust.
The emperor wears no clothes, and he’s high on his own supply.
So no more petitions. No more waiting. No more asking nicely.
Deschedule the plant.
Expunge the records.
Fund the research.
Free the people.
You don’t fix poison policy with polite conversation. You burn it down and plant something better.
And you start with the truth:
Cannabis never should’ve been illegal.
They lied. They knew. And they’re still lying.
We’re not here to beg.
We’re here to end it.
Read this on Substack where it first appeared — if you’re into that sort of thing.
