🚨 Riddle us this! 🚨
Which room has no walls, no doors, and yet is always overcrowded?
Which clock ticks without moving, losing hours in the blink of an eye?
Which ledger swears it’s full, while half the names fall straight through its ghostly pages?
Tell us -
How do you solve a crisis when the engagement won’t occur,
the stats are bugged,
and the discussion is coded in denial?
This paper is a note the province didn’t want.
A riddle with a cruel punchline:
you can’t fix what you refuse to see,
and you can’t count lives
that don’t exist.
Find out more - link in bio.
🚨 SCIENCE ALERT 🚨 SCIENCE ALERT 🚨 SCIENCE ALERT 🚨
Our fourth paper has been released on participant perceptions of the impacts of a de-medicalized safer supply program.
BIG NEWS: People like not dying. 🤯
The results? Survey respondents reported:
🚨 Less drug use (64%)
🚨 Less reliance on street supply (87%)
🚨 Fewer overdoses (90%)
🚨 More sterile gear use (85%)
🚨 Better mental health (74%)
🚨 Improved overall well-being (70%)
BUT WAIT, says a certain "public safety expert," what if we ignore this evidence and criminalize everything harder? What if we made "tough love" even tougher? What if we just banned sadness?
🚨 SCIENCE ALERT 🚨 That does not work. 🚨 SCIENCE ALERT 🚨
Of course, logic never stands a chance against the mighty forces of demagogue-based policy, and our fates are sealed in the next report by whatever grim reaper policy consultant the government is listening to.
"Everyone is dead. I am dead. You are dead. 'Vancouver' is a graveyard where the carceral state and think tank ghouls debate whether tombstones should cost more to 'disincentivize' dying...
YEAH, I once was crazy.
They locked me in a room.
A round room.
A round, rubber room.
A round, rubber room with rats.
Round rats.
Round, rubber rats.
Round, rubber rats with wheels.
Round wheels.
Round, rubber wheels.
Round, rubber wheels that went rrrr, rrrr, rrrr
And drove me crazy." - E. Nyx
🚨 SCIENCE ALERT 🚨 REGULATING THE SUPPLY WORKS 🚨 YOU KNOW IT WORKS 🚨 STOP PRETENDING IT DOESN’T 🚨
👁 READ MORE VIA LINK IN BIO 👁
#SafeSupplyNow #HarmReductionOrBust #GhostsOfPolicyFailures #WhoIsWritingTheseUpdates
We present our third peer-reviewed academic paper, a qualitative reflection on the now-defunct Compassion Club and Fulfillment Centre.
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The implications of our research extend beyond the destruction of the Compassion Club. They are a summons: a challenge to scientifically unsound policies that have brought us over the precipice of death, and an urging for the reconsideration of prohibition and how we enact harm reduction. Our work dares to imagine a society where the complexity of human experience is not crushed by simplistic morality. Sympathy, we suggest, is not a fleeting sentiment, but a transformative tool capable of reshaping individual lives and society itself. Indeed, the true measure of care lies not in the act of offering it, but in the recognition that every individual, regardless of their past or present struggles, is worthy of mercy.
Ultimately, we call you to confront the systems that have failed so many, to examine how we show up for one another in times of need, and to imagine a different path forward. The Compassion Club, though now closed, was never meant to be an end, but a beginning, a brief glimpse of what could have been, and still, perhaps, what may yet be.
Today, we share our second peer reviewed academic paper, an intrinsic case study that offers a unique perspective on the operation of the Drug User Liberation Frontʼs Compassion Club and Fulfillment Centre, delving into its inception, development, implementation, and the challenges it faced in its operation.
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Even with this paper's publication, we awoke this morning with rocky eyes, as if the weight of the world had pressed down upon us in our sleep. Outside, the sirens wail relentlessly, a dissonant chorus that only underscores the unease within us. Our voices, raw and shredded, cry out into the void. Perhaps someone hears us, but the feelings from our hearts are twisted and mocked by those who would rather silence us.
For those of us who stand against the status quo, the odds are impossibly steep. We cling to one another because, in a world so hostile, we have little else. Critics label us as dreamers of society's downfall, hoping to discredit our cause. Yet history is full of figures who were once condemned and later celebrated as heroes.
Why is it that the kind and gentle are subjected to violence and ridicule? How have the small and mealy-minded gained so much power? What perversion has taken place that we are governed by fools?
Urgency must overrule personal fear. Faced with the total destruction of all we hold dear, we demand a sanity that might yet save our community. This very demand sets us apart from the mainstream. As drug users, we’re tired of political experts, tired of empty promises and 'if only.'
In our refusal to confront the hideous danger posed by prohibition, we are guilty of being gutless, passive observers. Have we become so disconnected from one another that we will let this regime stand? Are we content to remain helpless bystanders, waving placards and chanting the same tired slogans, walking in endless circles year after year in a futile protest?
Ending the war on drugs demands far more than mere desire; it requires constant demonstrations of personal strength, relentless effort, and unwavering commitment. We must recognize our own potential, even when the odds seem hopelessly stacked against us.
In the midst of the mass slaughter of our friends and loved ones, we emerge with our first peer reviewed academic paper, in which GEE analysis demonstrates a statistically significant protective effect against overdose, including a 49% reduction in all non-fatal overdose and a 63% reduction in all non-fatal overdose with naloxone administered amongst all compassion club members.
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Caught in the grip of gray automatons who dictate our very existence, our offerings seem feeble against their plans of annihilation, as they cloak destruction in the guise of respectability. Our creativity, once our badge of honor, now brands us as outcasts!
We never envisioned ourselves cast in this role. Our focus was on saving lives, not navigating the labyrinth of academia. Yet here we stand, thrust into this arena, a part of us now entangled in its web, even as its inner workings remain a mystery.
In their attempts to tame us, they question why we don't churn out love songs. But what do we sing then? Our hymns are to life itself, a fervent devotion coursing through our veins. Every word we pen, every action we take, is a love song in its own right!
We seek alternatives, but the juggernaut of the media makes it an uphill battle. Their lies and distortions permeate every facet of society, poisoning even the purest intentions. We could become media darlings, but always on their terms. We're weary of meeting others' expectations when our own standards soar higher.
Intelligence, it seems, is only valued when it aligns with the mainstream narrative. Lennon spoke true when he said, "They hate you if you're clever and they despise a fool." Social intelligence demands conformity and compromise.
We've faced opposition from self-appointed deities, from academics to politicians. They've sought to silence us, labeling us a menace to this murderous society. Well, fuck them! I hope we are! What sort of twisted mind believes they can stifle dissent by snuffing out our voices of hope?
