Dear Meghan Markle,
For a woman who has remained strangely silent about having a cannabis strain named after her, you have been very quiet about cannabis. Where are you, madam, to give you your now royal due, on medical marijuana?
Your husband should investigate it quick, as well as all of those inbred snobs who flaunt their fashions of the day. They just want to divvy up the spoils while poor and "common" children end up in hospital after having their cannabis oil confiscated at the airport.
Where are you folks on visiting medical marijuana clinics and dispensaries now that legalization is taking hold in many areas of the world. In the Commonwealth, as you know, 'Full Monty' recreational legalization is about to become reality just in time for Halloween. A Canadian visit is overdue.
A visit to a medical marijuana clinic would equal Diana's visits to AIDS wards. That is when she first got my respect. By that point, college friends of mine had started dying. I knew how great and urgent the need was.
When Di walked out on Prince Charles, admitted to bulimia, and stood up for herself, including walking through a field full of landmines, she got my heart. Despite all the twerps who put her down—and then won over (Chris Hitchens is the most obvious but there were women too)—the one she won first was me.
As a human rights campaigner concerned about the future of the British Commonwealth, this is an open invite to you and your husband. Just leave your prejudices, your name-brand clothes, and the press at the door.
Why not put your brand on something that means something, Meghan? Here in Germany, the first beneficiaries of the now year old medical law (mandated under German public health insurance) are women. Granted, not in their thirties. But in their forties, fifties, sixties and up.
In other words, exactly the kind of woman Diana would be today. Not to mention your new granny-in-law.
So for her sake, hurry up and stop by a dispensary and help us de-stigmatize medical marijuana.