Calling people pathetic, weak and callow because they deal with life in a different way to you is pretty bad in my opinion.
That's not dealing with life, it's running and hiding from it.
Because it was like that since the beginning?
Wine existed sice 2000 BC.
and you think that's good news? That means we have well over 4000 years worth of alcoholism running through our gene pool. Might explain a few things, though. I can think of a certain big book about a magic guy in the sky that would make a lot more sense were history to admit it was written by a bunch of perpetual drunkards.
Brain cells die when you sleep too. Its not a big deal, some have to die so others can take their place.
You don't grow new ones. Some brain cells occasionally get overwritten. Not dead ones, though.
And drinking is NOT anywhere close to sniffing, smoking, needleing, ect NO MATTER HOW you twist it.
Talk to my father sometime, or my cousins. My father doesn't even know his first-born son's middle name...and it's the same as his. He can't tie his own shoes, he gets so frustrated about everything. If the phone rings more than twice, he flies into a huge rage because he can't hear the tv, and he doesn't even realize he's already watched the show 2 or 3 times that day or week. I'd also like you to tell my oldest cousin Raph about how drinking's not so bad. The guy that mowed him down didn't even lose his license, it was so harmless...even after he paralyzed my cousin from the jaw down for the next 30 ****ing years, till he died in the same bed he stayed in since he was a kid. That same ****ing drunk hit my great uncle not two streets away a couple years after Raph finally got put out of his misery...he couldn't even ****ing talk, for christ's sake. He died at 36, and for 30 years of that he couldn't talk. My great uncle survived with a collapsed lung and severe broken bones, but he managed to recover. The SAME ****ING GUY, and he didn't even get so much as a god damn parking ticket. Would you want that kind of guy running free in your town? I'll ask you again in 10 or 20 years when the kid out in the street is your daughter instead of my cousin. Or what about my other cousin Christine, who got pregnant and ruined her whole life in one night. What about my friend Samantha, who killed herself and left her baby to be raised by her mother and father, because she couldn't handle the pressure and drank herself to death?
I won't even talk about the time I WENT through some bastards' windshield and tore my ligaments in my arm. Or how my brother is getting sued cause some ****ing drunk ****er stumbled his ass out onto the highway and walked in front of the car. I won't mention any of the kids from my high school that are dead now. One guy in my old town murdered his wife and step son because he was wasted one night and just decided to do it. He couldn't live with himself after and killed himself. These are the undersides of the small New England town I came from; I don't live there anymore, but the crimes still haunt me. Every town has its little nightmares in the corner shadows, things young people don't see.
I worked for a local newspaper for 8 months doing obituaries, you know. We did papers in six local cities and towns. We had a code for drunk driving deaths--we'd say "he/she died suddenly" as opposed to "unexpectedly." "Unexpectedly" was overdoses. And occasionally, we used "without warning"...for suicides, of course.
Maybe I'll post the obituary I had to write for a kid I knew from High School by the name of Nick Cucchiello. One night he was a little drunk and he ended up flipping his father's SUV over and tearing himself apart. Maybe I should tell you the piece we wrote for the Chelsea paper about the car full of drunk girls who were going around a rotary on ramp for route one and veered off into the trees, where one of them was mercilessly impaled by a tree top branch that tore through the car on it's own weight. The branch stabbed through and punctured her uterus, and came out her abdomen, going on to pop through the roof of the car. My friend Mark's father Ernie Chiaradonna was the chief of the Fire Department there at the time; it was him and his crew who had to save that girl's life. They cut the branch and pulled her out of the wreck 30 feet off the ground, with the branch still in her, and airlifted her to Mass General where they saved her life...but not her uterus. That girl is scarred for life, and will never be able to have kids, and I imagine she'll be suffering all kinds of sexual side effects--assuming she can even HAVE sex after they put her back together.
Working at the paper gave me plenty more horror stories. A lot of them don't go to print. That's why I call it the underside of things. It's "What no one wants to see" as Metallica once put it. Bottom line.
Bah. But what do I know, right? You're absolutely right. Drinking's just fine. No problems there.