Very Bad Things

This is a few days old, but the blog's moving like molasses lately, so I'm within my rights reaching back for it.

Bryan Caplan recently posed: "What currently illegal thing do you personally really want to be free to do?" with the caveat that the answer "not pay taxes" is too easy.

What surprised me is how long it took me to come up with an answer. I wouldn't call my life particularly cheery, but my problems, legion though they may be, are seldomly federally-created. In its most visible incarnations, all the state does is bug me. So the things I'd do if they weren't illegal aren't all that shocking:

1. God, I love driving fast. I suspect most speed limits make little sense; I'd love to really open up sometime.

2. [This class of longed-for illegal activities omitted due to reputational concerns. Puff.]

3. Group marriages sound kind of fun.

4. Self-medicating. I'm intelligent and responsible enough to experiment and treat my own maladies without M.D. permission. There may be some call for regulation if there's danger of overuse of antibiotics and the creation of superpathogens, but much medication has no such problems inherent.

What a meager list! It confirms my suspicion, that--as a rationally self-interested actor--I should divert more of my energies to other troubles in my life and less to political theorizing. What about the rest of you?

Also, some of us should spend more times on political theorizing and less on personal problems. For instance:

Spending all my nights,
All my money going out on the town
Doing anything just to get you off of my mind
But when the morning comes,
I'm right back where I started again
Trying to forget you is just a waste of time

Micha come back, any kind of fool could see
There was something in everything about you
Micha come back, you can blame it all on G
I was wrong, and I just can't live without you

All day long, wearing a mask of false bravado
Trying to keep up the smile that hides a tear
But as the sun goes down, I get that empty feeling again
How I wish to God that you were here

Micha come back, any kind of fool, even Beck, could see
There was something in everything about you
Micha come back, you can blame it all on G
We were wrong, and we don't care about all that silly radical feminism and borderline lefty stuff and no one cares what Barnett says (just look at the Supreme Court) so screw him and I'm sorry I sided with that Crooked Timber guy that one time and even sorrier I spit on you that time I tried to pronounce your name, and we just can't live without you

Micha come back