A 47 year-old British drug cop nicknamed "Robocop" died of a heroin overdose. He had ecstasy and cocaine in his system as well. He had no previous offenses on his record and was an otherwise clean police officer. [The Sun]

New York police have seized some "Obama"-branded heroin. Now that it's off the streets, they expect power moves from the "Palin" meth, "Biden" weed, and "McCain" Advil dealers. [The Smoking Gun]

The outbreak of heroin-related deaths in Fairfax, Virginia is killing the area's best and brightest young people. So says the front page of the Washington Post this morning, which highlights exactly how upscale and surprising teen deaths from heroin in the area were. Nineteen year old Alicia Lannes, at left, overdosed on the drug the first time she used it, and died the fourth time she did. Her death gives rise to a larger drug trend story: one minute these kids were hitting a bong, and the next they were snorting pure heroin and heading to the hospital. Is it really that simple?The story describes the 18 heroin-related deaths in the county over the last year, and how they have largely affected a class of young person who wouldn't be expected to sample the drug:

Angelina Jolie has come a long way from her blood vial-carrying, lesbian sex-dabbling days as Hollywood's resident bad girl, but the potential release of a tape showing Jolie snorting and smoking heroin may do some serious damage to the soon-to-be mother of six's new reputation as a much hotter version of Mother Teresa. While Jolie has openly admitted to using all kinds of drugs in her past, her alleged comments and behavior shown on the tape in question may overshadow all those Yes I've Done Drugs But Drugs Are Bad comments she's made since:

In response to the crashing price of heroin versus the increasing luxurification of grass, we asked the few of you bothering to read (or sober enough to understand) what you're paying these days for your junk. A few scattered answers after the jump, ranging from depressing social commentary to unfair aspersions on British character actors.

Relatively speaking, that is. Buried in this Los Angeles Times article about the prevalence of Afghan heroin is an interesting nugget, as unpacked here — a gram of pure horse sells for $90 in LA. In other words, "That's about a dime per pure milligram, compared with $2.50 a pure milligram in New York during the 'French Connection' days." Given the alarming cost of pot these days, heroin looks attractive not so much as a gateway drug but more as an economical alternative. The War on Terror's losses may also be hurting the War on Drugs by way of winning the War on Drug Prices. So how about it, junkies — how much are you paying for your smack these days? And just because, let us know the same data for cocaine too. Just for completeness's sake. And send us your guy's number too, on background of course.

Yesterday's Times article about the 'competition' between so over it's cool again Williamsburg and forever on the cusp of cool Long Island City was predictably point-missy, given over as it was to seeing how the neighborhoods' respective gentrified amenities ("eclectic Thai restauarant" "pet boutique") stacked up against each other. However, since the germ of the article was a debate on messageboard queenswest.com, where "more than a dozen" users from LIC weighed in on their neighborhood's merits, we thought we'd compare queenswest.com with Williamsboard to see if we could settle the coolness issue once and for all. Here's an excerpt from the queenswest convo:

The image at right is not the cast of Misshapes: The Musical! These are actually fresh faces behind the East Village's beloved crusties, a group of street kids who regularly sleep on beds of needles in Tomkins Square park. An ambiguous family of homeless punk anarchists (or young bums, as one might say), the crusties have recently come under scrutiny in light of the EDGY spate of heroin overdoses to plague the East Village and Lower East Side as of late, most recently the death of a young man in the bathroom at the Odessa diner. The Villager hits the street for some reportage: