H/T Magnetic for Tough Love For Smokers: A vicious assault on the nastiest habit in the world that will make your eyeballs bleed and help you quit smoking, by Ken Austin.
The introduction starts:
No, actually, I’ve been smoking for 45 years. And nothing is telling me that I want to quit. Nothing ever has. So I’m not looking for a nudge in any direction. And, no, that’s not why I started reading this book either.
I started reading it, in fact, because I hoped it might give me a little insight into the twisted minds of professional antismokers.
Well, it certainly looks like it’s heading that way. And I’m sure Ken Austin would like to see public beatings of smokers, and quite likely gas chambers too.
But I don’t think the regulations and laws are going to continue to pile up – if only because when you exclude and demonise a quarter, or a third, – or even a half -, as in the Middle Eastern countries I was looking at yesterday – of your population, you create a deeply divided and malfunctioning society. It doesn’t matter whether it’s smokers this is done to, or any other social group: a house divided against itself cannot stand.
What are these lies the tobacco companies tell? Is it that they’ve cast doubt on the idea that smoking causes lung cancer? If so, they were right to do so.
And no, the rest of society doesn’t feel extreme, nearly pathological hatred for smokers. If they did, I’d never have had any non-smoking friends. But I had lots of them. It’s really only psychotic antismokers like Ken Austin who feel that way, and imagine that everybody else does, when actually they don’t.
And lying in the rank, soiled sheets of a hospital bed? That was how my non-smoking grandmother died. That’s the way more and more people – smokers and antismokers – end up these days, unfortunately.
Ah, so he’s an anti-smoking professional! It seems to attract psychopaths.
Chapter 1 is “The Stench”, of course. But I’ve always liked the smell of tobacco smoke. I liked it long before I took up smoking. Back in my childhood, none of us kids hated the smell of it. It takes years of poisonous indoctrination to get people to hate and fear it.
And back when I worked in offices, none of my colleagues loathed me. If they had, I’m sure that I would have known. And I wouldn’t have become good friends with some of them, as I quite often did. Nor did my employers ever target me: I never got fired from any job I had.
What spews out of this book is really nothing but the author’s own pathological hatred for smokers. He doesn’t ‘love’ them at all, not even in any ‘tough love’ sense. He hates them, and he wants to kill them. And that’s something he’s been taught to do. That’s something he’s been conditioned and programmed to do.
The person he’s really describing is himself. He’s the “moron”. He’s the “weakling, white trash, herd-mentality slob”. He’s someone who has swallowed every single lie he’s been told about tobacco, and all he’s doing is vomiting it back up.
Yet this might be a good book to buy, and to show to a few non-smoking friends, just to let them see the depths of antismoking hatred that’s around these days.
Anyway, as for “ruined appearances”, here’s Kate Moss again to take the nasty taste away: