More Nonsense

A friend of mine left work this week. She was off to pastures greener and in recognition of this fact we all went out for a few drinks on Thursday night. After a few drinks, and then a few more drinks, the pub we were in shut and we decided to move onto a club to have even more drinks. Got to the club (an immensely wanky joint infested with media (read cunty) types) and ventured downstairs to the main room where I could hear dirty beats emanating from the other side of the door. I opened the door and then it hit me. A wall of body odour assaulted my sinuses with such distinction that I forgot to sneer at the ultra trendily dressed clubbers, who were all too concerned with the way they looked as they danced along with the music.

On July 1st smoking was banned from all public places in England. I am a heavy smoker of many types of dried leaves and have been for many years now. I awaited the total ban on smoking with trepidation. Smoking is quite a central part of my nights entertainment and I knew that this ban would effect the way I liked to do things. Having said that I quite enjoyed the smokeless atmosphere and going outside for a cigarette wasn't so bad, quite an ice breaker in fact. No problem.

Thursday night was the first time I had actually gone to a club since the ban and I honestly could not believe the hideous stench in this place. This was a clean and tidy club as well, not some dirty little heaving sweatbox. It was an immense smell of locker rooms with a gentle hint of vomit. On top of this I was expected to buy myself a drink that would cost me around £8 a pop. May as well have been a toilet. No thanks.

Oh, it is all rather neat isn't it, no smoking no passive smoking. No passive smoking less cancers. High ranking dignitaries are sitting in padded leather chairs smiling smugly to themselves with the thought that they have indeed struck a hammer blow for the people. Oh how clever they are, wiping another stain from humanities battle scarred body. Guess what, i'd rather have cancer.

Everything in life is becoming sanitised, wiped surgically clean almost. The only problem with this is that it is often the rough edges in life that present the most entertainment. The darker corners of a room you have to explore, the mysterious half smile of a stranger that makes you want more. We are drawn to the unknown. If you throw a huge light over everything you will soon see it for what it really is. Yet another every day experience you have had a million times before.

This is a fucking virus.

Antibacterial soaps weren't around when I was a kid. I was one of the last generations that had the benefit of being able to culture antibodies within myself, and they now wonder why children are so sickly. What fucking chance have they had when their entire existence has been in a completely bacteria free bubble.

I want to make these fucking choices for myself. Fine, if non smokers want a place to hang out, ban smoking in those places. I want the fucking choice to fuck my own body up if I want. If I want to inject heroin directly into my eyeballs, what the fuck does it have to do with you? Telling someone what not to do is just as prohibitive as telling someone what to do.

I reserve the right to do as I please with myself.

If there was a God he would be inflicting particularly aggressive cancers on all those seeking to inhibit our movements and choices right now.

Fuck you. My choice.