Americans have finally reached the tipping point—or maybe the toking point—when it comes to legalizing marijuana: A recent Gallup revealed the country is now leaning 50% pro-pot. What I found most shocking about the survey was how badly the pro-legalization movement had been doing for the past half-century. Wasn’t everyone a hippie in the 1970s? Nope. Until 2001, less than a third of Americans favored legalization. The love of weed has skyrocketed since Obama was elected. My personal theory is it’s because Obama was elected. This government is so totally incompetent, even geriatrics are inhaling deeply and being all, “You know what? Let’s get the government out of ALL of our business. Gays can get married, dogs can fart, and people can smoke pot.”

Watching Boardwalk Empire on HBO and seeing the carnage being wreaked in Mexico doesn’t hurt the cause, either. Of course pot should be legal. It’s way less damaging than alcohol and the thought of some old dude rotting in jail because he bought his son a grow lamp is enough to give you a bad trip. Pot makes infomercials hilarious. It makes horror movies petrifying, and it turns making love to your wife into an adult film.

But it’s important to remember: Pot is evil.

If there’s one thing that all men need, it’s to be hungry from 18 to 25. I’m not talking about the munchies. I’m talking about suffering. Whether you’re a billionaire’s son or a kid from the projects, you need to be deprived during your formative years. A young adult must be forced to discover his talents. He needs to try a hundred different things, and the stakes have to be high. Then, when he finally gets something going in his late 20s/early 30s, he can look back on his early years and realize how lucky he is to have found his vocation.

I planted trees in Northern Canada in my early 20s and it was so horrible, I still have nightmares about scarification. When I started my first business in 1994 I would sit there in the midst of bankruptcy and lawsuits and think, “Oh well, at least I don’t have bugs crawling up my ass.”

My best friends in college didn’t share this experience. They chose pot over hard work, and their lives are fucked. At 40 they have no idea what they’re doing with their lives and are slowly realizing that their legacy on Earth will be a clay pot they made twenty years ago and a cool drawing of a skeleton riding his skateboard into a vagina.