Something I came across last week:
Vivek Murthy, the surgeon general of the United States, has said many times in recent years that the most prevalent health issue in the country is not cancer or heart disease or obesity. It is isolation.
I keep reading statements along these lines. I live the life of a hermit these days, pretty much. I’m an exile in my own country. Whole days can go by without me actually saying a word to anyone at all. Although I’m of course writing and reading stuff here every day, so I never feel isolated. And in some ways isolation is a good thing: you can think about stuff without being interrupted. No wonder the hermit on the hill was often a wise man as well. So where’s the danger in isolation?
Well, in my case, there are some pretty obvious dangers. And they are that if I get sick or have an accident or a heart attack, there won’t be anyone to find me. When my father fell and broke a hip in the garden one night, my mother fairly rapidly found him. Same a few years later when he had a stroke, and fell down again, and my mother found him once again. She saved his life twice. I often think these days that the principal virtue of marriage is that, at its very simplest, it provides someone to keep an eye out for these sorts of things, and to provide a helping hand. But I never got married.
And sometimes people need a helping hand. I still remember the occasion when I came off a motorbike and cracked an elbow. It mended pretty rapidly, but for a month or two all sorts of simple tasks became next to impossible. I remember, for example, cutting slices off a loaf of bread by holding down the loaf with one foot.
I’m a hermit not by choice, but by social exclusion. Tobacco Control works through social exclusion. The smokers are exiled to the outdoors by the Deborah Arnotts in Tobacco Control. Or they are fired from their jobs, or evicted from their homes. They are ostracised. To be ostracised is to be excluded from a society or group. And we are witnessing the mass ostracism of smokers all over the world. I’m just one of countless numbers of hermits.
The whole Tobacco Control modus operandi is to exclude smokers from public life, make pariahs and outcasts of them. They can only rejoin society when they have stopped smoking. Or stopped doing whatever else the controllers disapprove of. For the same methods are being used to exclude and marginalise drinkers and fat people. Shape up, fatty, or stay outside. Even words are being excluded. There are some things that can’t be said. If you don’t use the approved correct words to express the agreed consensus opinion, you don’t have any right to be heard: you’ll have to stand outside too, along with the smokers and fatties.
I’m still astonished that there are politicians and public servants who have little or no compunction in advocating and introducing such exclusions upon large numbers of their fellow citizens. And I’m still astonished that we have a press and mass news media that hasn’t been shouting from the rooftops about it. There is instead dead silence. They are, I think, forbidden to mention it. Smokers and smoking have become unmentionable.
And the method of exclusion is essentially murderous. The excluded smokers may fall off balconies or out of windows, or die of exposure outside, and this is fully intended. It’s not an “unintended consequence.” It’s something that was quite obviously going to happen. And so it was intended.
For Tobacco Control is engaged in a global eugenic public health programme, to rid the world of smoking, and therefore of smokers. Eugenics works through mass murder: if you want to create a world of perfectly white cats, you must kill all the black ones. And Tobacco Control has set out to “improve” the world by getting rid of all the undesirables in it: the smokers and drinkers and fat people and the politically incorrect. And if some of these undesirables die in the process, well, that’s what they were supposed to do. You can’t make omelettes without breaking a few eggs.
It’s essentially no different from the Nazi eugenic public health programme to rid the world of Jews and Gypsies and homosexuals and anyone else who didn’t fit into their plans for a world of perfectly white cats. Those people were regarded as vermin just like smokers are regarded as vermin today. Did anyone in the German press and radio raise the alarm about it? Of course they didn’t. They turned a blind eye just like the press and mainstream media do today.
And why should it be any different? In what substantive way has human thought advanced since the Nazi era? There is very much the same mindset today as there was 100 years ago, in most respects. Yes, we have TVs and computers and mobile phones and all sorts of technology the Nazis never knew. But the Nazi eugenic mentality remains. The old Nazis just took off their black uniforms, and put on suits, and carried on where they left off. And there were lots of them in Britain and America and everywhere else. And, guess what, there still are.
Which reminds me of something else I read recently:
We no longer have a moral compass. Before, Christianity provided this role, keeping us united over centuries. Now we can no longer distinguish between good and evil, and ultimately this is what this struggle comes down to.
When there’s no moral compass, who’s to say what’s right and wrong? And isn’t it likely that what used to be regarded as wrong becomes right, and what used to be regarded as right becomes wrong? Do you think that the Nazi guards pushing Jews into gas chambers thought they were doing something wrong? Of course they didn’t. They thought they were doing something right. And they were surrounded by people who also thought it was the right thing to do. It must’ve been a big shock for them when the allied armies showed up and told them they’d been doing something very, very wrong, and hanged quite a lot of them.
It’s the same with Tobacco Control today. Does Deborah Arnott think she’s doing something wrong? No, of course she doesn’t. She thinks she’s doing something right. And she’s surrounded by lots of people who keep telling her that she’s doing the right thing. They all meet up for conferences which are as much about building up and re-enforcing their morale as they are for making new plans for the Final Solution to the Smoking Problem. The conferences are bonding sessions during which their vision of a smoke-free world is re-iterated and amplified and detailed, so that they can all go away afterwards with renewed confidence and determination. It’s going to be a big shock for them when they find out that they were doing something evil.
The problem isn’t Deborah Arnott. The real problem is the moral vacuum in which the likes of her and Stanton Glantz and all the rest of them can grow and flourish.