Friday 8 April 2011

Crystal Glass Night.

Note: The author is not in full control of his fingers while typing this post and has yet to decide how many of these fingers are actually his. Probably not the ones with octopus suckers on them, I don't remember seeing those before.


I am now 51. Nearly dead, Righteous, but not quite. Still here to make your lives difficult for a while yet.

Last night was also official launch night for my first (but hopefully not last) novel. There are others in the pipeline, and since I'm outed anyway I'll save myself the bother of repetition and let my psychopathic writer persona tell you about them. Yes, I go by many names, a phrase that will chill the Christian readers even though most of my writing could be said to have a basic Christian message in there somewhere. I might not be one any more but I was heavily brought up that way and the sensible parts stuck. The parts that say 'Be excellent to each other' still resonate but I also like 'Party on, dudes', which is pretty much the opposite to any religion's teachings.

The Righteous out there will be delighted to hear that my self-destructive tendencies have been in overdrive tonight, with whisky and non-electric cigars following a chicken Dopiaza with salt-laden chips instead of rice and a naan bread soaked in melted real butter. I'm still not dead though. Not even insensible. Not even a tad ill. I could sue the buggers for false advertising at this rate. I mean, salt, smoke, booze, butter, each guarantees a heart attack individually and yet a combination of all does nothing, yet again. Fifty-one years of trying and no result. Any other company would be pulverised for making such blatantly false claims.

I have one of the the good crystal glasses out tonight for the Penderyn which is on ration because I can't get it here and now Monkey Shoulder which is a pleasant blend of three malts but after the Penderyn it tastes like pop. It's still very nice and highly recommended. Just don't expect it to beat unfair competition.

So expect no sense tonight. I have none left to give. Instead I merely point out a dichotomy, wherein the antismokers believe that a mere trace of nicotine on a smoker's jacket will kill them, but simultaneously believe that the cure for smoking is a patch containing more nicotine than a whole case of Player's Navy Cut.

Nicotine, antismokers, is not a poison unless concentrated. It is, and does, much the same as caffeine. It fires up your brain. Take out the combustion products that are dangerous in tobacco - and they are exactly the same as those in any burning stuff - and the nicotine is nothing. It's inhaleable espresso. You know, antismokers, as a dedicated espresso drinker and smoker, I have to down an entire bottle of whisky to come down to your speed of thought. How do you manage to cope at that speed? You notice nothing, your peripheral vision is derisory, your decision-making capability makes me wonder how you get out of bed. And you always ask me to slow down when I talk. What do you think I'm using as a language, binary?

Antismoker drones like to pretend that smokers are stupid. If we are, why worry about us? Why are our current government so keen to wipe us out? Why was Hitler so keen to wipe us out? If we are stupid then we must, surely, soon wipe ourselves out. If we were as stupid as the drones claim then we're all dead already and there are no smokers. So why ban us? Pick the sense out of that.

Ah, but nicotine boosts the brain. Electrofag does it with no carcinogenic combustion by-products. So do the smokeless tobacco products such as snus. None of these cause any nasty side effects, they just deliver nicotine. So why are we to deny this thing? Why is third hand smoke more evil than suffocating a child with a plastic bag?

Captain Ranty has a clue
.

12 comments:

JuliaM said...

Many happy returns, and congrats on the book, now residing happily in my Kindle app for the iPad ;)

vervet said...

BBC R4 Today (Ministry of Propaganda) spending almost entire programme on link between alcohol and cancer.
Presumably covered in depth so as to avoid having to spend too long on the Portugese economy and gradual implosion of the Eurozone.

George Speller said...

yeah . . one in thirty three. maybe we should be looking at the other thirty two.

subrosa said...

Congratulations and commiserations for book and birthday.

I'm listening to the phone in on Radio Scotland. The chap on Ranty's video is right. The level of intelligent debate is mediocre.

Chief_Sceptic said...

Only 51 ? - you're still just a lad ! ...

p.s. - just been in the Amazon Kindle store and bought your tawdry offering !!! ...

Captain Ranty said...

Many Happy Returns Leggy!

Thank you for the link.

And thank you for continuing to write. This is my happy place. I come here to read and to reassure myself that I am not going insane. I may not comment much but please know that I sit here nodding away. Truckloads of sense in a largely senseless world.

Enjoy your day.

CR.

PS-I tried Monkey Shoulder and thought it was poison. I am a cognac man so perhaps I should just stick to what I like.

Richard said...

Congrats from me too. And there's plenty of Penderyn round here if you want me to send you a bottle ...

Anonymous said...

Happy Birthday, LI

Rose

Anonymous said...

Happy birthday, but I seriously think you should see your doctor and ask him / her how come you are still alive...

NewsboyCap said...

LI

A long, long time ago when at school we were told that a cigarette knocks 5 mins of your life, in those days men only lived till they were 72.So by their reckoning I've been 'dead' for the past 12 years not that many people have noticed, even the tax man keeps demanding money when I buy booze or smokes. Seems unfair to be 'worrying' the 'dead' like that.

Many happy returns BTW.

sixtypoundsaweekcleaner said...

I prefer grape to grain myself, but drinking from a crystal glass...? Now that takes style!

Hippy Barpday, btw and congrats on the book.

Leg-iron said...

Happy birthday, but I seriously think you should see your doctor and ask him / her how come you are still alive...


But... what if he says I'm not?

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