Dances With Pearls (2014)
As an example to others, and not that I care for moderation myself, it has always been my rule never to smoke when asleep, and never to refrain from smoking when awake.—Mark Twain
[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]I hate the sight of no smoking signs. Not that I’m this huge smoker by any stretch of the imagination. Cigarettes are, in my opinion, a waste of money; three or four puffs and they’re gone. Why bother? I’ll occasionally smoke a pipe if I’m stressed and trying to chill, or perhaps have a cigar while out in the middle of nowhere, sitting around a campfire. I don’t have this huge oral fixation that requires I put something up to my mouth all the time. Still, the very sight of a no smoking sign angers me because it restricts my right to choose. Am I not intelligent enough to make the right choice? Are you calling me stupid with your fucking sign? Can you not see how horribly insulting that damn sign is?
I understand: clean air. The statistics regarding second-hand smoke are damning. I’ll admit, I don’t mind walking into an office, especially the doctor’s office, and the whole place not smelling like smoke. I don’t mind walking into a restaurant and not having to choose between smoking or non-smoking (we typically chose smoking simply because it was less crowded). I don’t mind coming home and my clothes not smelling like a cheap brand of cigarettes. I get it. I understand what anti-smoking advocates are trying to do. I still don’t like the damn signs.
Statistics are clear: cigarette smoking remains the largest single preventable cause of death in the United States. In addition to killing somewhere in the neighborhood of 480,000 people in the US each year, the direct cost of that addiction in terms of healthcare and lost productivity is around $300 billion annually. Smoking doesn’t play fair, either. One is more likely to smoke if they are male, has their GED, is a former service member, and is racially mixed, according to statistical evidence. Children born to mothers who smoke during pregnancy are likely to have a significantly lower birth rate. Smoking is the second leading cause of death in the entire world. The numbers against smoking are absolutely overwhelming.
There’s just one problem: Uncle Fred.[/one_half]
[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]If you’ve known me more than five minutes I’ve probably told you about my Uncle Fred. I know I’ve written about him before. Uncle Fred was one of those migrants in John Updike’s The Grapes of Wrath that left dust bowl Oklahoma along with his wife, Aunt Irene, who was my grandmother’s sister. They settled in Turlock, California, up in the Northern end of that state, worked hard from sunup to sundown, raised three boys, were heavily engaged in civic activities, traveled when they could, argued with each other like cats and dogs and lived what was, for their time, a pretty normal life.
Uncle Fred was a two-pack-a-day smoker. He was respectful, he’d go outside, step away from the doorway, smoke two or three, then come back inside. If it were raining and the porch was too short, he’d either find a tree or stand under the eve of the house. All that smoking eventually killed him … at age 96. Aunt Irene, who didn’t smoke and wouldn’t allow Fred to do it in their house, died four years later at age 92. If we look solely at Fred and Irene’s statistics, smoking’s apparently good for you. That’s why I have a problem with those damn signs. Statistics are numbers and numbers aren’t people. We don’t know how many Uncle Freds there are because, since they aren’t dying off too quickly, we’re not studying them.
There are roughly 320 million people in the United States. If we lose 480,000 to smoking each year, that’s a whopping 0.15% of the total. Pay attention. That’s not fifteen percent. That’s less than two-tenths of ONE percent. We’re making all this fuss over a group of people so statistically small that, in almost any other study, they would be insignificant. With over seven billion people on the planet, we’re over-populated beyond the point of sustainability. We need more than 0.15% to die off if we’re going to continue living here. Sustainability is more critical than smoking at this point. Think of smokers as volunteers for population control.
Smoke ’em if you’ve got ’em and lose the damn signs.[/one_half_last]
Purpose
On A Pedestal (2014)
I do not have much patience with a thing of beauty that must be explained to be understood. If it does need additional interpretation by someone other than the creator, then I question whether it has fulfilled its purpose.—Charlie Chaplin
[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]The universe may be making a comment on one’s day when one gets up in the morning and the first thing in the newsfeed is an article on death; specifically, how the primary causes of death have changed since 1990, a mere 25 years ago. High blood pressure still tops the list, which reminds me I need to take my pill. But then, articles like this don’t help any, either. They just make my blood pressure a little higher. You know, worry and all.
What seems obvious, looking at the primary causes of death, is that we are all committing suicide in one way or the other. Take a look at these figures:
Source: The Lancet
How many of those are the direct result of our mode of living; lifestyle choices we make, excesses in which we indulge, knowing full well the consequences but still choosing to go right ahead and tempt fate. What’s the purpose? Do we only live so that we can orchestrate our own deaths in less-than-spectacular fashion? If we are creating lives so unbearable that we must worry, smoke, drink, and overeat in order to cope, what’s the fucking point?[/one_half]
[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]Christian author and megachurch pastor Rick Warren has written and talks extensively about “the Purpose Driven Life,” and popular culture has latched onto his concepts of a religious-based purpose to living. Many other self-help gurus have done the same thing, trying to use religion, or some universal sense of spirituality as a basis for there being some reason to exist. The recently deceased Dr. Wayne Dyer once said:
Religion serves as the defining purpose of life for many millions of people around the world. The concept that some force greater than the individual has predetermined a course or fate for their lives is attractive because it relieves them of the responsibility of having to determine that course or establishing some purpose for themselves. If one dies inappropriately young, or endures a lifetime of poverty, then religion offers the excuse that there was some greater purpose at work.
But what if there is no universal purpose? Humans are but a blip on the timeline of history. The cosmos got along just fine developing itself and evolving and doing things before we came along. What if our presence here is of no consequential purpose at all, but rather a momentary sideline amusement while everything else takes a breather? We are, after all, apparently hell-bent upon our own destruction. How can that be of any benefit to the greater good of creation? What benefit does the universe derive from our presence?
At the moment, I’m not seeing any great over-arching purpose to humanity existing beyond this current stage of universal evolution. I suppose that, in some form or fashion, we might provide a link to whatever it is that comes next, but by the time that stage of existence comes into being we, as a species, will have long been forgotten. Perhaps, we might want to consider changing our approach.[/one_half_last]
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