I couldn't bring myself to open another textbook so I procrastinated, grabbing the Collegian from the floor and paging through it. The words leaped out at me immediately: Drugs, by Chino Wilson. Before the end of the first paragraph, I was screeching in indignation. By the end of the last paragraph, I was raging. Although I can appreciate the views of this author, I can't accept them.

"I find it ludicrous that these so-called intellectuals actually sit around discussing (legalization and decriminalization) as options," he says.

Do you really? I myself would find it ludicrous if they did not. After all, the cost is not in thirteen-digit budget allocations alone -- it is in the lost lives of children caught in the middle of drug-related gun fights; it is in the fear that leads the Washington, D.C., police force to insist on advanced, automatic weaponry; and especially, it is in shot-gun legislation, such as the Anti-Drug Abuse Act of 1986, which prompts legislators to propose legislation with a blind eye toward justice and a keen eye on public demands.

Take a step back in time to 1986; the year Len Bias was the Celtic's top recruit, the year drugs were only prevalent in ghetto districts, but a year that also bore one of the most comprehensive drug acts this country has ever seen.

Why, you ask. What could have happened?

Len Bias happened. Len Bias happened and Len Bias died. Len Bias was a hero -- the kid that made it big. He signed a Celtic's contract, he leased his dream car, and he was graduating. All reasons for celebration. And Len Bias celebrated. Then, he died. Cocaine intoxication.

The public went wild. Drugs were suddenly everywhere. They were in executive offices, they were in college dorms, and most of all, they were in elementary schoolyards. America's children were being poisoned.

So what, you say. What has this to do with anything?

It has everything to do with everything. It was, you see, an election year.

Legislation was pulled together, pushed together, and glued together. Justice was no longer of any concern. Legislators who wanted to be re-elected spouted the most extreme measures. Representative Claude Pepper said it best. "Right now you could put through an amendment to hang, draw, and quarter."

The amendment was passed with record-breaking speed, stampeding through the Senate to pull to an abrupt halt beneath President Reagan's right hand, poised and ready. The bill passed.

Military interdiction passed. Exclusionary rule relaxation passed. Harsher sentencing passed. Foreign policy riders passed.

October 28, 1986, a date that should live in infamy, marked the ratification of the Anti-Drug Act of 1986.

We're two years two months into war that began on October 28, 1986. We've spent billions of dollars. We've pulled the military "with all it's awesome might and unique mission into civilian law enforcement." (Representative Don Edwards, Rep.-Cal) We've condemned the Constitution of the United States by devaluating a rule that prevents evidence obtained illegally to be used in Court.

Most of all, we've condoned unjust and immoral behavior in our legal system. These are the times when a Supreme Court judge can say "I don't give no breaks to no drug dealers" (Justice Thurgood Marshall) and no one questions the impartiality of his verdict.

And I'm wondering why.

How can anyone support a drug war in which the casualties have increased to include the very Constitution that protects us?

Current problems need to be evaluated in the context to which they were born. The war on drugs was an election year hay-ride. Times have changed since then. The war has lengthened and strengthened to frightening proportions. Intellectuals have had perforce to become realists. And realism says something's wrong. Something must be changed.

Let's sign a peace treaty. Let's nurse the wounded and mourn the dead. Then, lets get down and dirty and iron out new legislation. Legislation that works.