A Letter To Young People
Cape Coral, Florida
Dear Young People:
Hi, young people. Take a long look at me. To many of you I will become your best friend, your crutch, your very thought. In fact, many of you I will eventually own. Because of me you will become a street menace and eventually a national-security threat. Already, 80 percent of you and your fellow Americans are associating with me, some before their mid-20s. In fact, 30 percent of your college friends are playing a game of Russian roulette with me. Did you know that an initial association with me can trigger an unknown allergic reaction or aggravate a hidden heart defect that can lead to sudden death? Because of me, many high school students are on a binge and young people are taking the role of guinea pigs. I know that it doesn't matter if I'm threatening your health and safety. We are friends, you and me. I have many friends: Len Bias, Don Rogers, etc. Of course some of these are not with me any longer. But that's fine. My circle of friendship and devotion is growing and growing. We'll forget them and won't even miss them. We'll be busy, you and me. I'll stalk you in all levels of life, just as I've always done. After all, American young people are showing a level of involvement with me greater than can be found in any other industrialized nation in the world. We are out in the open now. Did you know that? I think it is great that you are willingly becoming my slave and that you will steal or even kill for me. If you are not doing these things, you will be if our friendship grows. You will drop out of school and even leave your family because of our close friendship.
We "I have some hard times, though. When I am not around you will miss me so badly that you will cry, scream, beg, sweat and even freeze. You will itch, burn up and curse. You'll have terrible nightmares and some of you will jump out of upper-story windows like Diane Linkletter or commit suicide like Ronald Roberts, son of evangelist Oral Roberts. Our separation will last only as long as you are out of money. When you get the "green" I'll return. I won't be gone very long because I am cheaper now and more plentiful. We will always find a way to be together. I'm often left as gratuity for domestic help and a growing number of seventh and eighth graders are pooling their allowances to form "$12.50 Clubs" to make small "scores" of me.
Of course, I'm not popular with the police and you have to learn to lie and even run from them too. A lot of people cover for me. Did you know that I was one time hidden in a Mr. Yummy truck in Columbia, S.C. and that a 74-year-old grandmother gave me refuge from the police in her home in Houston? So what if I'm not popular with the authorities. I've been very popular with "yuppie" clubs in Philadelphia. Yes, I do a lot of masquerading, even among textile workers and we are bringing in $100 million a year in sales. Yes, we'll have to do a lot of looking over our shoulders even though I'm called by the sophisticated name of "designer." Did you know that some call me "Angel Dust"? The police are constantly blaming me for all sorts of crimes and they are the ones who make me cowardly. If they would leave me alone I wouldn't have to sneak around. But you know that the experience of people like Len Bias and others doesn't apply to you, don't you? After all, you are different. You can handle me, can't you? Besides, if adults and parents can have association with me, why can't you? You have rights, you know. It is a free country.
I hope we will be happy together. I know we will for a while. But don't forget, we will have a few arguments, especially when you try to get rid of me. Oh, I know you will be back. We are friends, you know. You can't do without me.
I look forward to our association, young people. I trust you will be happy. . .
Guardian of Truth XXX: 22, p. 677