Smoking Can Save The World or Mykel's Post MRR Column no 50

Mykel's

Post MRR Column no. 50

or

Smoking Can Save The World

I write this a week before Rosh Hashana, the Jewish New Year. Ten days after the New Year is Yom Kippur, The Day of Atonement. That's the holiest day in the Jewish calendar... a 24-hour fast (no food OR liquid), Hardcore Jews spend 18 of the 24 hours confessing their sins, beating their breasts, making a clean slate.

Me? I keep the fast and spend about 4 hours in breast-beating.

During the holiday, the Rabbi reads the story of the ancient temple, where-- every year-- Aaron brought two goats... male goats. Aaron shall take the two he-goats and let them stand before the LORD at the entrance of the Tent of Meeting; and he shall place lots upon the two goats, one marked for the LORD and the other marked for Azazel. Aaron shall bring forward the goat designated by lot for the LORD, which he is to offer as a sin offering; while the goat designated by lot for Azazel shall be left standing alive before the LORD, to make expiation with it and to send it off to the wilderness for Azazel

(Note: it's not clear what Azazel is. Some say it's hell. Some say it's just a rugged mountain. In any case, it's a place of no return.)

He shall then slaughter the people’s goat of sin offering, bring its blood behind the curtain, and do with its blood as he has done with the blood of the bull: he shall sprinkle it over the cover and in front of the cover. Thus he shall purge the Shrine of the uncleanness and transgression of the Israelites, whatever their sins; and he shall do the same for the Tent of Meeting, which abides with them in the midst of their uncleanness.

Aaron shall lay both his hands upon the head of the live goat and confess over it all the iniquities and transgressions of the Israelites, whatever their sins, putting them on the head of the goat; and it shall be sent off to the wilderness through a designated man. Thus the goat shall carry on it all their iniquities to an inaccessible region; and the goat shall be set free in the wilderness.

I've left out the stuff about sacrificing a bull and doing all kinds of nasty stuff with the blood and fat... The rabbi reads all this in Hebrew. Most of the congregation is left less disgusted than they'd be in English. But you get the idea... It's a scape goat... carrying the sins of the Jews off into the wilderness.
Keep that thought in the folds of your codpiece and we'll

FLASH TO THE MODERN WORLD
China's industrial cities are so polluted that Black Lung Disease is as common as the measles. According to the American Lung Association: In the U.S., Houston comes in at 16th for year-round air pollution tournament. It also ranks 12th out 228 cities for ozone levels.

The report also says, while Oregon has a “green” image, the Medford-Grants Pass area ranked among the highest for pollution.

Vassalia California wins as the Most Polluted City in America. Their local paper says: the heavy volume of truck and car traffic on Highway 99 and Interstate 5 is spewing massive amounts of noxious fumes and dangerously small particles of smoke.

The world is sick. People die from breathing the air, drinking the water, eating fish that beathe and drink an oceanful of plastic. It's not getting any better.

Dealing with pollution caused by industrial fertilizers, plastic, energy plants and gasoline? Business suffers. If we cut down, workers can't use their filth-spewing cars to get to work in the factories whose effluvia gives cancer to their kids-- in order to make products that no one needs. We'd better take care or people will demand FEWER goods. What will happen if there's NO DEMAND... if people want LESS? The business world could collapse! It would be the end of capitalism.

FLASH TO NYC: 1972 United Nations... basement conference room. It's an “informal” meeting of the G8... before Russia got kicked out for being too punk.

Hollis Chenery

Citizens are beginning to get pissed off at how their lives are getting worse... at how they're dying younger... at how they can't get rid of their chronic coughs... how their kids have asthma before they're old enough to jerk off.

At the G8 meeting they speak English. It's the only language the Americans understand.

The speaker is Hollis Chenery, famed American economist... expert on international development... and brother of the jockey superstar who ran Secretariat into world racing renown. He's the kind of guy whose ears wiggle when he smiles. He's not smiling now.

He speaks... pacing back and forth across the plush UN carpeting.

“We're here for development,” he says. “We want to build the world's economies. We want to import... to export... to produce.”
He stops and clears his throat.

“A big part of that development is energy,” he continues. “We need energy to produce, to distribute, to consume. We need energy to MAKE energy. But we have a problem...”
The representative from the UK... a fat cigar smoking man... takes the cigar from between his lips and gestures with it... flicking some ash onto the floor.

“We're here for economics,” he says, “not to talk about your stupid fucking war.”

Chenery stops in his tracks, spins and faces the fat man.

“Let me finish you pompous ass,” he says through gritted teeth. “I'm not talking about THE WAR. I'm talking about what people are calling the environment. I'm talking about the movement to STOP DEVELOPMENT. I'm talking about the end of growth...”

The fat man turns slightly red under the glare from the others in the room.

“The problem is that people are getting sick... and they're blaming DEVELOPMENT,” Chenery continues. “If we don't watch out they're going to call for an end to growth.”

A sexy middle aged woman, the representative from France, raises her hand like a school child.

Chenery gestures to her. “Ms Gueulevelue, do you have something to say?”

“Oui.” she says. “I mean yes. What if we make people believe they're responsible for their own disease? Or the disease of their neighbors? Why not choose one industry... make it a scapegoat... and connect it to an INDIVIDUAL'S behavior? That will let the developed world be free... to... to develop.”

Chenery rolls his eyes heavenward... as men often do when an attractive woman makes a suggestion.

 “And you think people will just turn from business, and start blaming themselves?” He asks. “What could we possibly use to make people think they are making THEMSELVES sick instead of our global network making them sick?”

You can guess the rest. Of course, the solution was TOBACCO! An herb used medicinally by the American Indians. A cultivated weed with a longer history than the wheel... a scapegoat.

H. L. Menken said, “No one ever went broke underestimating the intelligence of the American public.”

But he was too narrow. It's not just the American public... It's the WORLD public.
We tell people that if they get sick... it's THEIR OWN FAULT. We focus on stopping people from smoking. Make it more difficult to smoke. Claim smoking causes all the problems. Send the tobacco companies to Azazel.

What happens if you get sick and you don't smoke? EASY ANSWER. Your neighbor smokes... someone in your building smokes. Your parents smoked before you were born and the smoking curse entered your blood in the womb.

FLASH TO THE FUTURE:

Washington Square Park: May 1, 2020. It's the SMEC (Smoking Makes Everything Clear) smoke-in. Marijuana has been legal for the past two years, but tobacco is prohibited everywhere except one doorway... on 167 Street and Amsterdam Avenue.

SMEC has organized this protest... the first of what they hope will be a yearly event. They wear t-shirts with a cartoon of a goat smoking a cigarette. The caption: Don't Let Corporatism Scapegoat Tobacco. 

The police wait warily on the sidelines. What's left of the press... CNN and Fox News... sit on the grass... cross legged... The other participants sit around them. They all look at the stage... faces aglow... like churchmen watching an evangelist.

This priest is Rökning Ändtarmen. She looks and dresses like the smoking goddesses of the 1930s and 40. She's got a husky smoker's voice with an unidentifiable touch of a foreign accent.

“Thank you all for coming,” she says, taking a puff on her American Spirit. “We are here today to tell that world that we won't take blame... this stick of fire won't take the blame...” She gestures with the cigarette, “for the air, the lungs, the health of our citizens.”

The audience applauds.

“We are here to smoke together... illegally... in solidarity... to show the world... and the corporatocracy... that we know what they are doing.”

More applause.

“We are here to tell them that everyone who takes a puff of tobacco in 2020 knows what the global capitalists are up to.... We are here to tell them that every cigarette smoked is a voice against big oil... big energy... big agriculture... We are here to tell them that every smoker is a fighter... a fighter against fracking... against Exxon... against Dow... against Boeing... against Ford.”

“Can't you just quit smoking and be against that stuff too?” shouts Cub Blitzer. the son of a retired CNN reporter, now a correspondent on his own.

Rökning laughs... a deep throaty laugh. “Sure Mr TV news. That's worked so well during the past half century.”

Blitzer's face contorts into a question mark.

“No one notices... no one cares,” explains Rökning. “They believe the problem is TOO BIG for them to manage. AND they have another focus... something they... as individuals can police... smoking! The war against cigarettes is a smokescreen. It hides a much bigger war that needs to be fought. We're here to tell them WE CAN SEE THROUGH THAT SMOKESCREEN!”

More wild applause... this time with cheers.

“We smoke because we know... We smoke because our protest gets noticed... gets reported... gets support... We smoke because we're saying it's not OUR individual behavior that is society's cancer. It is THEIR behavior. THEIR thirst for profit over all else. THEIR support from Wall Street, the banks, industry... that is the cancer!” she takes a deep puff from her cigarette and sexily lets the smoke out through her nose.

“We smoke to say, WE WILL NOT BE FOOLED.”

FLASH TO May 1 2021... the size of the smoke-in doubles.

FLASH TO May 1, 2025, Five states have legalized recreational use of tobacco... anywhere. NOT coincidentally, that is the first year that electric cars out-number gasoline cars... and the war continues.

-end- 

ENDNOTES: [You can contact me on facebook or by email at god@mykelboard.com. Through the post office: send those... er... private DVDs..or music or zines... or anything else (legal only!) to: Mykel Board, POB 137, New York, NY 10012-0003. If you like my writing, you can be notified when anything new is available. Subscribe to the MYKEL'S READERS Yahoo group readmboard-subscribe@yahoogroups.com]

-->Note: The poster at the start of this blog/column hangs in my apartment I bought it at a brewery. THEY know what the story is.

--> Full disclosure dept: Hollis Chenery is a real person... and he was very involved in the Development section of the World Bank. The meeting described here is, however, a complete fabrication... I think.
Also, the Mencken underestimating quote is often quoted, but there is considerable debate as to its veracity.

-->My kind of elderly dept: A 73-year-old Daytona Beach man was banned from local beaches after he was caught handing out business cards that said Sugardaddy seeking his sugarbaby.

          Richard G. Basaraba was approached by cops after a mother of a 16-year-old girl complained to officers that her daughter had received one of the cards. The card shows a young woman wearing shorts and high heels sitting on the lap of a man dressed in a business suit. The man’s right hand is on the woman’s thigh.

            The mother also complained that Basaraba showed her daughter bra padding from a bathing suit and told her that he was looking for someone to fill it. Basaraba told the girl she would be “perfect” and to contact him when she turned 18.

--> Keeping the Pressure on Dept: I want to thank reader George Metesky for suggesting a continuing Bring Back Mykel effort directed at Maximum Rock'n'Roll for censoring me.

             As their revolving editrixes move on to commercial ventures, each blames her predecessors for my demise... as if they had no control over the business... and couldn't simply invite me back.

            Send your comments to mrr@maximumrocknroll.com (or post on their facebook page) with the subject line: BRING BACK MYKEL! Let me know how they answer.

See you in hell.

-end-

NOTE: If you're interested in my travel blog, you can read it at mykelsdiary.blogspot.com. I have another blog of short interesting things at: http://mykelsclippings.blogspot.com. And finally, my oldies from last century are slowly being scanned and uploaded to: http://mykelsoldies.blogspot.com/

Then They Came For Me aka Mykel's Post-MRR Column Number 15

YOU'RE STILL WRONG

POST MRR COLUMNS

Post-MRR Column Number 15

by Mykel Board

"Why level downward to our dullest perception always, and praise that as common sense? The commonest sense is the sense of a man asleep.” Henry David Thoreau

First they came for the smokers, and I did not speak out— because I was not a smoker. Then they came for the senile, and I did not speak out— because I was not senile. Then they came for the football players and I did not speak out— because I was not a football player. Then they came for me. --Mykel Board

I don't make it. Both hands cupped over my mouth, I run to the bathroom. I don't make it. Stomach contents... volcanic... force themselves upward... an enema in reverse... chunks of chicken... pieces of potato... whole croutons-- just the way they looked in the bar avocado dip-- spew themselves upward... through my esophagus... filling my cupped hands... spilling over... catching in my beard... dripping on a trail through my fingers.. SPLOTCH... SPLOTCH... SPLOTCH... from the bedroom. The food forces itself upward like liquid, not percolating, but exploding... upward with such force it fills my nose... overflows... my nostrils drip beer and buffalo wings. Sinuses cramp with calamari.

Finally... the toilet. I open my lips and let the primal ooze splash in. My packed sinuses ache... a huge pressure... I grab my nose from the top, spray out... nothing... harder... a green drop... the size of a pea... dribbles from a nostril. It IS a pea, mixed from the same gravy used to make chicken pot pies for decades... centuries... millennia.

No time to consider it. Here comes another heave... a giant fire hose... a brown gray mix up-chucking into the toilet with such force that the splash covers my face... my neck... my naked chest. Dripping with my own vomit, I sink to my knees. Barely able to keep my dripping face above the water in the bowl, I heave again... nearly drowning in the backsplash. I won't get drunk again. I won't get drunk again. It's just common sense.

Ok buckaroos, I've been writing for about 50 years now. MUCH of that writing has been rants against common sense, self-evidence, logic.

“Everybody knows that women make 80¢ for every dollar men make.”

“It's just logic that second-hand smoke is bad for your health.”

“If you only earn $1800 a month you can't afford a trip to Japan... It's common sense.”

All those and more are just wrong! If EVERYBODY knows it, it's probably wrong. Remember how everyone knew that margarine was better than butter. You know how many people DIED from that? Remember how everyone knew that you had to arm the Taliban in Afghanistan? It protected us from COMMUNISM. See what happened?

IN PRAISE OF SMOKING

Bottom of the eighth, two outs, Jeter on third. The Yankees are down 4 to 3. Teixeira’s up. Damn! He's barely hitting at the Mendoza Line. Yeah, he's got a bunch of homers... but. STRIKE ONE. Just as I feared. Swinging at something way out of the strike zone... Ever since his wrist injury... STRIKE TWO. Fuck! I don't need crystal balls to tell him to TAKE that next pitch. He's trying too hard. He's trying to make everything a home run. He'll... STRIKE THREE.

And now comes a public service commercial. A man's talking... not talking exactly... he's got one of those external voice boxes against his neck. A hole in his neck vibrates as he speaks. I used to be a smoker, until... Pissed off, I shut off the TV missing the ninth inning.

FLASH TO LATER THAT NIGHT: I'm looking for those lost videos on YouTube. There were only eight or so shows. Roald Dahl's WAY OUT... better than the Twilight Zone. On the screen, in that stupid side column are public service videos... one aimed at teens:

We can be the generation that ends smoking.

Jeezus fuckin' Christ. In the 60s, people wanted to be part of the generation that ends WAR. These days, they go for a bit more totalitarian goal. I wonder, if, in the 1920s there were posters saying WE CAN BE THE GENERATION THAT ENDS DRINKING.

I see anti-smoking propaganda plastered on internet sites, on subway posters, on billboards. Even the government gets in the act. I see it reflected in New York laws against smoking in parks... even if the park is just a slab of concrete at an intersection. Buildings are banning smoking by tenants... in their own apartments. The wildest logic... ignores everything EXCEPT smoking.

“Statistics show that children from buildings with more smoking have higher incidence of cancer and emphysema than children from smoke-free buildings.” What the fuck?

How 'bout that rich white folks tend to smoke less than poor folks. How 'bout that buildings with smokers tend to be closer to factories or frackers than buildings with non-smokers? Naw, that's not important. Yeah, right.

While smoking is (barely) legal... this is the time to act. This is the time to START SMOKING! If any one thing symbolizes the loss of freedom, it's the loss of the right to smoke. If any one thing symbolizes rebellion in America in 2014, it's smoking. Smoking is the great Satan of activities. It is the only legal (for now) way to flout convention... to say

I REFUSE TO BUY INTO THE MYTH THAT I CONTROL MY DESTINY. I REFUSE TO BUY INTO THE LIE THAT IF I GET SICK IT'S MY OWN FAULT... OR THE FAULT OF MY NEIGHBOR WHO SMOKES. I REFUSE TO BUY INTO THE LIE THAT MY BAD LUNGS ARE NOT THE FAULT OF CORPORATE AMERICA AND THE SHIT THEY POUR INTO THE AIR AND WATER, BUT RATHER SOMETHING I DO MYSELF.

More than this. Smoking in 2014 attacks the entire idea of Your comfort is more important than my freedom... The easily offended society... The whiners who call for the boycott of everyone they disagree with. The censors who, instead of answering free speech with speech, answer it with calls to end that speech. The bullies, who in the name of stopping bullying, bully people into keeping their mouths shut and their opinions to themselves. The totalitarians who say that my emotions are more important than your art... who can't walk away or put something down because it triggered emotional distress. The single act of lighting up a cigarette is a proclamation as loud as any protest poster that says. I AM AN INDIVIDUAL... AND I WILL NOT COWER.

IN PRAISE OF ALZHEIMERS

"Nothing is more responsible for the good old days than a bad memory.” --Franklin Pierce Adams

With age comes senility--- that disease of forgetting. Maybe it's not so bad.

I've written before about how the 70 years since World War II is enough time to FORGET ABOUT IT! So much evil has been done in the name of that war... from genocide to opera censorship. So much continues to be done. I've written plenty on that memory... and there are other things to forget

In Texas, they still Remember the Alamo and use that mudhut... a holdout in a war FOR slavery and AGAINST an innocent nation... a war that was nothing more than a land grab. Texans don't want you to REALLY remember the Alamo. You should remember it THEIR way. I say FORGET IT.

In the South, the Civil War still plays hard and anyone from George Bush Senior to Bill Clinton is a carpet-bagger. Remember the some-fucking-thing is the rallying cry of so much death and destruction, that just hearing those words should be an instant code to tell you blood's a-comin'.

Remember the Armenian holocaust. Remember the Lusitania. I cannot forgive... forget... absolve...release... relent... accept... bury the hatchet... let bygones be... let it go... let it pass... wipe the slate clean...

Remember means I can do what the fuck I want to you because someone, someplace did something to my ancestors. Remember means revenge. Revenge triggers counter-memories. I remember what you did to them because you remembered what we did to you.

Jews and Germans. Hatfields and McCoys. Clan Chattan and Clan Kay, Hamilton and Burr, Stalin and Trotsky, Jack Benny and Fred Allen, Snoop Dogg and Iggy Azalea. I donno. To all of 'em I say forget about it. It's OVER.

What you do starts NOW! If I fill a bag of dogshit, light it and put it on your front porch, that's NOW! You called my mother a slut 4 years ago? It's over!

IN DEFENSE OF FOOTBALL

“Female violence toward men is pervasive, although largely denied. Or if it isn't denied, it's excused. When a man insults or hits a woman, it's 'abuse,' but when a woman insults or hits a man, it's 'assertiveness.” --Jim Goad

“Feminism is very much like egalitarianism and if you believe that we are all equal then you are a feminist. " --Internet Website

Two months ago, I wrote about Robert Anton Wilson's book, Cosmic Trigger III. In that book, Wilson mentions violence in the movies. We always hear Christians and feminists complain about how movies cause Sandy Hooks or random street violence. What goes unmentioned-- except by Wilson-- is how that in (almost?) every major U.S. movie since the 70s, a man is hit by a woman... from the slap across the face to real ball busters.

My sister's house-- Rosh Hashanah eve.:The meal is finished. The Tsimmis is just settling in my stomach. 5775... a nice palindromic year.

“Hey Mike,” says my sister (the only person in the world who calls me Mike). “You want to watch some TV before you go to bed?”

Since I don't own a cable-connected TV, I figure why not? It'll teach me some references from Modern Culture^®. I can drop them in a column and people will think I'm up-to-date.

“Sure.” I tell her, settling myself in front of a TV that's bigger than my apartment. “What's on?”

“You'll love this show,” she says, flipping the channel to something called (I think) The Modern Family. It has all the current memes: the gay couple, the divorcees, the dysfunctional siblings. Shows like this are one of the reason I DON'T have cable TV. There's a scene... outside a restaurant... a guy and a girl-- she much younger, but still legal... his wife in the series, I think. He says something. She slaps him across the face, then grabs his chin and kisses him smack dab on the mouth. My sister laughs.

Could you imagine if the roles were reversed? Could you imagine an older man, slapping a younger woman across the face, then grabbing her chin and kissing her full on the mouth? The tyrants from Social Justice Warriors would be all over them. Boycott the sponsors! Shut 'em down. How could they allow... Violence against women!! Jeezus fuck! But this violence passes with a laugh.

What's the reality? Why is there a Violence Against Women bill, but not a Violence Against People bill? Why is the harassment of women in the military a more important issue than the military itself-- murdering hundreds of innocent people thousands of miles away?

Another YouTube video... this one of a hotel lobby. A young black woman hits a big black guy and they get in an elevator together. Flash to inside. Again the woman hits the guy... this time, he hits back. She's down. But what gets reported? RAY PRICE attacks his fiancée. Her initial violence isn't mentioned once (at least not that I've found).

Ray Price is found guilty of domestic violence. Not guilty in a legal court, but in the newsprint court... in the broadcast court... he's guilty. He's big and black so he MUST be guilty. Right?

“Hitting a woman is not something a real man does, and that’s true whether or not an act of violence happens in the public eye or, far too often, behind closed doors,” says President Obama.

Football to Get Tough on Domestic Abuse, headlines every paper in America. That is not EQUALITY. That is gender supremacy. This is Guilty until Proven... forget the proof! GUILTY GUILTY GUILTY.

Okay, let's get this straight. I HATE football. It is war in miniature... a glorification of organized violence. It's played by idiots and controlled by jocks. Yet people are surprised that football players are violent???? They're SUPPOSED to be violent. That's their job!

All that doesn't change EQUAL PROTECTION. Idiots have rights too! That includes the right to a trial and a presumption of innocence. It includes the right for both parties to say: FORGET ABOUT IT. IT'S OVER. LET'S MOVE ON!

But we won't move on. We'll run around in circles. Cheering violence, then condemning those who are violent (especially to women). It makes me sick. Excuse me while I run to the bathroom. Maybe I'll make it this time.

ENDNOTES: [You can contact me by email at god@mykelboard.com. Through the post office: send those... er... private DVDs..or music or zines... or anything else (legal only!) to: Mykel Board, POB 137, New York, NY 10012-0003. If you like my writing, you can be notified when anything new is available by subscribing to the MYKEL'S READERS Yahoo group readmboard-subscribe@yahoogroups.com]

(Sorry buckaroos, no endnotes this time. The column, itself, takes up too many words this month. You can check out several endnote-type postings on my clippings blog.)

-end-