There's a great post over at Head Rambles right now relating to anti-smoking folk. Head Rambles, as you know, is the 'home' of Grandad but, I'm sorry, it just doesn't seem right for me to say, "Over at Grandad's place…" as he isn't mine. If he was, my first, indeed only question, would be to ask for the secret of his amazing longevity.
{Note to self; longevity sounds like a cleaver word but check the definition before pressing 'publish'. Also check 'definition'.}
It's picked up by Frank Davis here. No, not actually here. Here is hidden under 'Frank Davis here'. No, not that one, the one above in blue. How cleaver is that then?
What I don't understand is how these simpering, bed-wetting Timidadians get all the MSM headlines, all the TV and radio time with little sign of an equally authoritative voice of dissent. If a contrary voice is ever allowed, it's time is limited and is rarely heard over the constantly interrupting, bullying voice of the supposed impartial interviewer.
{Note to self; dissenting, contrary and authoritative – as above. Looks to me like too many T's in that last word.}
There are many Blogs shouting out about such as ASH, WHO, global warming and similar doom groups. Sadly, however large a readership they all have, they will never, ever be able to shout above the howling and screeching voice of the MSM parroting the views of, and giving air time to such as ASH, the WHO and two degrees up and we're going to fry. Why?
Really, how many folk will give the news a questioning look then spend the evening reading Blogs to better understand what the hay's going on and do a little research themselves compared to the numbers who will check the headlines, believe them then quickly move on to East-X-Factor-Enders and Strictly Come Cooking Antiques and similar?
And now 'they' want to ban smoking in Psychiatric hospitals. Without appearing to be blasé and with no offense intended, if you're in a Psychiatric hospital a doctor has declared you to be somewhat nuts. If you're unfortunate enough to be a smoker who's been declared nuts and locked in a hospital, what do these far nuttier, but somehow still evading apprehension, ban everything folk think the effect of telling a smoking nutter that they can't now have a smoke will be? I would suggest it'll send 'em yet nuttier to the power of whoa!!
{Note to self; double check 'blasé'. Is it a step too smart? And try to remember how I got that ' thingy above the e in the unlikely event I ever need to do it again.}
That has to be the much lauded Duty of Care irreparably blown below the waterline, right?
This also begs the question as to how do these obviously unbalanced professional ban everything people manage to get into the positions they have? Is everyone who already holds a position of power, however trivial that position or the power may be, nuts? Thus assuring the continuation of the line?
As a further pointer as to how many nutters are outside in positions of real power, who're incapable of seeing what could possibly go wrong, check this scary article out when you have a minute or two.
Anyhoo, from the two perfect posts the bit wot I read {read 'red'} twice was the bit wot starts;
"I think we’re in a cultural war on all traditional values. Everything is under attack."
How true is that then? And the big question remains; why?
I seem to remember reading a long time ago that someone had come to the conclusion that Earth was the remote lunatic asylum for a planet in a galaxy far, far away.
If they have a specialist on that planet monitoring the asylum one can only imagine him reporting to his superiors.
"It's not looking good Sir. Our idea that advances in intelligence would slowly breed nuttiness out of the inmates has proven unfounded. In fact there's now a huge number of them who actually believe they can change the climate of a rock hurtling through space."
"You're joking! Are they nuts? Oh, wait a minute. That's why they're there, right?"
"Err, that it is my astute Sir."
"Okay, let's keep an even closer eye on 'em."
"By the way Sir, they've started firing stuff into space as well. They actually got to their moon a while ago."
"Oh, oh. We sure don't want to run the risk any of 'em escaping and possibly polluting the Universe. Tell you what, if they get to Mars and the first thing they plant on the red planet is a 'Smoking Prohibited' sign, we'll trigger that big bang we've rigged and send that stone spiralling into the sun and draw a line under our attempt at cure."
Quote; Rita Mae Brown.
“The statistics on sanity are that one out of every four people is suffering from a mental illness. Look at your three best friends. If they're OK, then it's you.”
6 comments:
Thanks for the undue praise [great post?]. Feel free to call my gaff whatever you feel like - I will have heard a lot worse. There's always a welcome on the mat.
The secret of my longevity? I'm not that old, but Doc asked me recently how I looked much younger than my age. I told him without a glimmer of a smile that it was smoking the old pipe. He had no answer to that.
Sir.. Damn! That doesn’t sound right.
Dear Head Rambler... No, still not right.
Okay - Got it!!
Grandad,
My favourite age quote was Woody Allen when asked what he’d like people to be saying about him a hundred years from now and he replied, “I’d like them to be saying ‘gee you look good for your age’.”
And here, ladies and gentlemen, we have two of the best bloggers on the internet (IMHO of course).
Ripper,
Enter my head for a moment and imagine, as I occasionally do, awakening one morning to the news that the blanket smoking ban has been lifted and the grownup idea of letting establishment owners decide yes or no has been adopted.
Early that same cold, damp winter evening you enter a pub and marvel at the polished wood, shining brass and sparkling glass all gently reflecting the soft glow of the log fire.
You sip contentedly at your drink breathing the subtle, message-filled mixture of wood and tobacco smoke and notice that the group of people seated round the fire are in constant convivial conversation regularly punctuated by hearty laughter.
You spot an empty chair amongst the group and ask if you may join them. Upon receiving a warm welcome you sit and within moments realise you’re in the company of all the writers of the Blogs you most enjoy.
Thus starts one of those rare evenings that, impossible as you know it to be, you hope will never end...
Keep a chair for me! Mine's a Guinness.....
Grandad,
There's pint an' a nip behind the bar for you when you get here.
Spooky how I knew it'd be a Guinness eh?
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