Drug hysteria has never tasted so good

Before climate change dropped it like it was a 40 ton grease-slicked hot potato, the crystal meth epidemic was by far my favorite over-hyped scare phenomenon.

It all seems so quaint now, gangs of bug-eyed Midwesterners wandering the nation like excitable zombies, toothlessly knocking over convenience stores and local social services. Especially when compared to the horrors of scorching heat, giant tidal waves and raining frogs.

But the meth-madness crowd won't give up without a fight. In fact, they pulled exactly the same move breakfast cereal manufactures do when a brand goes stale: They added more sugar.

The new fear is devious meth dealers, in an attempt to hook 'em young and sweet-toothed, are adding candy flavoring to their product. What impresses me most about this theory -- which I hesitate to call baseless, but would be willing to wager on being highly anecdotal -- is that it adds to the meth epidemic the fable of the super-aggressive drug "pusher," and even throws in a touch of that old poisoned-trick-or-treat-candy campfire story.

Will it be enough to push the meth epidemic back into prominence? I doubt it. But I'm giving points for the effort. Strawberry flavored points.

Bingo is the new meth

From well-lit church basements to bright retirement home recreation halls, a burgeoning social problem lurks beneath the fluorescent hum.

Bingo isn't just the name of the hand-clappingest dog on the farm. It's also a game of chance that turns its participants into mindless zombies.

Often played for "charity," there is nothing charitable about bingo's devastating effects.

Our nation's police blotters and court records tell the story:

Leticia Garcia, 61, was a loving grandmother with no prior criminal history until she started playing bingo. Now she is facing 6 to 12 years in prison for possession of 214 pounds of marijuana.

Prosecutor Doyle Johnstun said it best when he told jurors: "The underlying issue is that she's got a bingo problem, which explains why an otherwise nice person might get sucked into something like this."

Bingo doesn't only destroy the lives of individuals -- it rips apart whole families.

Floyd Kinney Jr, 49, had a long record of only engaging in sexual relations with partners above the legal age of consent. That was before his wife discovered bingo.

"My wife is never at home," Kinney told the judge as he pleaded guilty to two counts of aggravated indecent assault against a minor.

"She would be going to bingo three, four times a week," he added. "I told her to stop going to bingo, and she said, 'If they had bingo every day, I'd go every day.'"

Defense Attorney Richard Yetter said his client is "not articulate and may not have been doing a good job of conveying his rationale to the judge."

But Floyd Kinney Jr has convinced us: There is no limit to bingo's pernicious reach.

Methamphetamine madness

A survey by The National Association of Counties, released yesterday, claims methamphetamines are the nation's primary drug problem. Usually when the press reports a new piece of information on the so-called "meth epidemic" skeptical Jack Shafer over at Slate demystifies the information and then debunks the reporting. I am going to do him one better:

There is no such thing as crystal meth.

I'm sure it exists as a chemical compound, and they probably have a type of methamphetamine locked behind those closet-sized hospital medicine cabinets. But crystal meth is not a drug one can purchase illegally from a drug dealer.

It is a myth. Just like the Bogeyman, Bigfoot and Tom Cruise's new baby

While it's true I haven't spent much time at the gay club or in Iowa City, I still know all sorts of people and have seen all sorts of things. Yet, I've never seen any crystal meth, nor have I ever known anyone who has been involved with this most dangerous of drug.

I think I might know someone who knows someone who claims to have done meth once. But if you allow the people who know the people you know dictate reality you will lose touch with it quickly.

So what is the point of this supposed meth epidemic? Your typical conspiracy theorist would conjure up a plot to divert funds to local law enforcement and sustain large federal programs. I'm going to do them one better:

It is actually a plot by so-called "meth users" to justify and elicit sympathy for their dangerous orgies and robbery sprees.

And their bad teeth.