Being Cheerful in the UK Concentration Camp

Generally speaking, when I wake up, it isn’t long before I get to thinking about what I had been reading the day before and what I had been writing myself the previous night. There tends to be a vague feeling of dullness and oppression around. It is difficult to avoid the impression that there are many people who are employed with no other purpose than to think up new ways to torture people who choose to enjoy tobacco. To make matters worse, the very people that we elect to protect us against charlatans are actively cooperating with them.

It was not the charlatans who passed the smoking ban law. It was our protectors. They were the ones who put the boot in. They were the ones who defied every instinct from their own experiences of coming to no harm by being in a place were people were smoking. Richard Doll himself said that he had no worries about being in a room where people were smoking. You look in vain for any real evidence that SHS has ever done anyone any harm. And yet the screws are being tightened and tightened. No smoking in cars with kids in them, plain packaging, the Leader if the Opposition, Miliband, talking about a levy on tobacco company profits (which is a disguise for a separate duty on tobacco products, which will find its way into price increases).

And yet, for whatever reason or other, yesterday morning, I had no such feeling. I was cheerful and quite pleased with myself, having done the digging of the plots (which was not a job I was looking forward to) and having spread fertiliser over them.

But I wonder if it has more to do with the human spirit. I wonder if Jews in Nazi concentration camps still found things to laugh about from time to time. Of course, the Nazi camps were horrible places, but, even so, not everyone sent there was immediately exterminated. They were badly treated and forced to work until they dropped, but many survived. I read somewhere that it was the fatties who survived best because they had some reserves of nutrients. Perhaps they had some fun from time to time.

As a smoker, it sometimes feels as though the whole of the UK is fast becoming a concentration camp. But not only in respect of smokers. I was reading something only today about the facile use of the word ‘our’ in connection with children. We see it in print and we hear it in the media. So parents are also surrounded by people who claim to ‘own’ those parent’s children. These people are like a barbed wire fence, which forces parents to conform. It is a barbed wire fence of the mind and body. And politicians are actively involved in erecting the barbed wire fence. The war in electro-fags is another example. People who found a way around the barbed wire fence of smoking restrictions and propaganda, are being rounded up and forced back into the concentration camps. People who, perfectly legitimately, used their right to be self-sufficient by going to the trouble of growing their own plants or importing leaf (which, believe me, demand time and effort to convert into usable stuff) are also being rounded up and forced back inside the barbed wire fence.

“There is something rotten in the State of Denmark” (to torture Shakespeare). We cast about to try to find out what that rotten thing is. Frankly, I think that it is obvious. We need only look at the EU. What is it? Is it not just an enormous and vastly expensive bureaucracy which produces nothing except ‘one size fits all’ (totalitarian) regulations? Is that also nothing but a huge barbed wire fence? Greece has rebelled, but fearfully. There are some comforts inside the barbed wire fence. The fence keeps out lions and tigers, and two square meals of bread and water are provided every day. What is there not to like? True, the provision of the fence and the provision of the bread and water have to be paid for by borrowing more and more money, a debt which can never be repaid, but at least you are safe inside the barbed wire fence. Aren’t you?

It is interesting that Greece, having tunnelled part of the way out of the concentration camp, has turned to Russia for help to escape the camp guards. Out of the frying pan into the fire? Perhaps, but there were an awful lot of Russians who had money invested in Cyprus and who were stung by the ‘bail in’ which the EU forced upon Cyprus. Strong ties exist between Cyprus and Greece.


So what was there to be cheerful about? Well, as it happened, yesterday was sunny for a while. The snow was melting and the garden looked a mess with bits of twig and branch all over the lawn. Perfect for the time of the year. Spring is around the corner. The daffs are starting to poke their noses above ground. Buds on shrubs are appearing. Even the dead hand of EU bureaucracy cannot stop Nature from performing its annual miracle, nor can the dead hands of UK politicians rip out our daffodils. Nor can they quench our spirit.

I went to the pub last night and there was a group of youngish people in (in their thirties, approx) who were strangers. There were about 20 of them, and they were having a really great time. I got chatting with them and it turned out they were from a town a couple of miles down the road. They were just having a change of scenario. It was great fun because the humour was typical Lancashire humour. No cissy Southerner could live with it, since it is so peculiar. For example, if a person was very successful in an exam, it could only be because that person cheated. Accusations of cheating would be elaborated until the person who succeeded was thoroughly humiliated. That is, unless he fought back. He could, for example, accuse his tormentors of being too thick to understand.

The important thing is to understand that all the accusations were in jest and the responses were in jest. The fun is in the elaboration.

And so it was last night. I thoroughly enjoyed it.


All is not lost. The barbed wire fence will eventually be pulled down. Thus, for example, the regulation of electrofags will cease to be a form of suppression, which is the intention of the Zealots and Charlatans at the moment, but will become as sensible as the regulations concerning the wiring of electrical plugs – brown wire is ‘live’, blue wire is ‘neutral’, green/yellow is ‘earth’. The problem at the moment is that everything is unbalanced.

Every individual has right to enjoy tobacco if they wish to. Such people are outside the barbed wire fence. The General Smoking Ban, which prohibited people from working in places where smoking existed and prohibited publicans etc from providing such places, erected a barbed wire fence which was only partially physical. It was never intellectual, but was only emotional and physical. Publicans became afraid (the barbed wire), their employees became afraid, and their patrons went away.


It should be clear to any intelligent person that INTELLIGENCE plays no part in Smoking Bans. They are the product of emotion and result in barbed wire fences. Barbed wire fences are always the product of emotion.


It is really weird that our collective political system cannot cope with emotions. For example, when a person purports to speak for ‘OUR’ children, it is rare that anyone says that ‘OUR’ children are not ‘YOUR’ children. Tobacco control Zealots do not have any right to claim that my children are ‘OURS’. They are not. They are MINE. If that were not so, then the Zealots would have to change babies’ nappies, provide their breasts for feeding (even the males, somehow) and dress and bathe them. Claiming that the children of citizens of the UK are ‘THEIR’ children is another barbed wire fence. It is one which imposes demands upon you without duties upon them. Note the difference between ‘demands’ and ‘duties’. Those who demand that you obey have no duties to provide any quid pro quo. Thus is the barbed wire fence erected.


Cameron should have been aware of the creeping barbed wire fence. He and his ilk should be aware of the general principles of freedom which our fathers fought for, which are that we need not be afraid. Clearly, our Nation will sometimes go through hard times, but only relatively so – unless the whole economy collapses. What would the anti-smoker zealots in parliament do and say if the economy collapsed?

The FCTC Zealots are determined to encase ALL the people within barbed wire. That is more important than it seems at first sight. The FCTC is, and always was, an abomination. It is not an intellectual, scientific entity; it is an emotional, computer calculated, barbed wire fence. Thus, that treaty is TOTALLY NEGATIVE. Not only that, but it created a WORLD ORDER. Given a benign EMPEROR OF THE WORLD, it is possible that such an idea might work. On the other hand, it might produce conflagration.


I think that THE PEOPLE have a right to hate those who persecute them, and have a right to hang, draw and quarter them INTELLECTUALLY. Thus, the students of Chapman in Australia will learn by asking him to prove his concepts.

It will not happen yet because of the ‘holiness’ of tobacco control. TC will not be holy forever.


It is all about FREEDOM.



2 Responses to “Being Cheerful in the UK Concentration Camp”

  1. michaeljmcfadden Says:

    “It is all about FREEDOM.”

    Lots of excellent thoughts for reading and chewing on a Saturday evening Junican! Thanks as always.

    A note about the “our” children thing: I like turning it around on them by always noting that when they use their propaganda about ETS harming kids etc, that they “are abusing our love of our children.” They, after all, have been trying to beat the child-abuse drum at parents who smoke in a home with children, so it turns the abuse arrow back around at them.


  2. beobrigitte Says:

    But I wonder if it has more to do with the human spirit. I wonder if Jews in Nazi concentration camps still found things to laugh about from time to time.

    I am sure they did as we, the smokers, do nowadays.
    Sadly, many years ago I severely attacked my mother and her generation for the legacy I feel I have inherited. I wasn’t exactly gentle.

    To see the world falling for this repeated kind of propaganda is a lot to take in. And, yes, the dark humour is here – yet again.

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