Stop Stoptober!

There’s a lot I hate more than do-gooders believing they’re doing you a favour by asking, demanding and nagging you to stop smoking, but this takes the Boston Bun: yesterday in London a group of out-of-work actors (or rather, too proud to put their talent to good use – really: any idiot can act like a zombie, as evidenced by how many flashmobs have been staged over the years where fools with nothing better to do ape the dance moves to Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” and take up space on footpaths) paraded round in zombie masks to drive the point home to innocent smokers that, hey, you might just end up like them. Well guess what well-meaning zombies? We’re all going to die! (Sooner the better for some)

As part of a campaign by a mob called HealthExpress (no doubt a glorified WebMD with staff) who are offering free consulations to assist people who want to bow out from the baccy because, panic of panics, of some lark in Blighty called “Stoptober” – only three things should be celebrated in October: 1. Oktoberfest 2. Choctoberfest and 3. Labour Day if you’re unfortunate enough to live in Queensland.

Stoptober is a campaign by the NHS that boasts that it already has over 200,000 who have “pledged” to give up the Gold Flake. Whenever people “pledge” to do something makes me squirm – most likely those sad American teenagers who pledge to remain “pure” – i.e. no fumblings for them behind the bikesheds unless Daddy or “the Lord” (much the same really) “allow” them to. Interestingly people are signing up to raise money for charity while stopping for Stoptober. Why not just write a cheque? There’s always the money angle when people stop smoking, isn’t there? We’re constantly being told that if we were to pack in the Pall Malls, “Think of how much money you’ll save [by not smoking]!” Hello? How many people have nixed the nicotine only to spend the money on something else? I’ve been told quite a few times that I could afford a holiday to Bali. That’s right, holiday in a fundamentalist stronghold with (of course) disgusting records on human rights and safety and facing the indignity of being bombed while in the same room as a bunch of bogans on a package holiday – the type of drunks who give drunks a bad name – or stay at home in a peaceful democracy with a carton of Rothmans? Sadly, there’ll be people who have to think about that.

A quick look at HealthExpress’s website shows how boring they are, specialising in middle-class gripes such as weight loss, impotence, hair loss, etc – in other words: drugs for mugs and alleviation for the vain.

Just looking at the zombie masks chosen by HealthExpress doesn’t scare me a bit – they’re like something out of Bo’ Selecta! I’ve seen scarier people at the milk bar – or rather, I was affronted by the sight of a sixty-something tranny who was wearing a primary school girl-sized school uniform and he decided to bend over repeatedly to display his saggy old arse bulging out of a pair of My Little Pony pants. Now that’s a real horror!

Look here you holier-than-a-colander hypocrites, because that’s what you are. HYPOCRITES. How dare you have the unmitigated gall and tut-tut-tut temerity to tell me to stop smoking for my own good when you’re usually already morbidly overweight, voting Liberal and then complaining about them after and volunteering when you’ve got so much to sort out in your own lives before you start with somebody else’s. I smoke because I can. I enjoy it and am very skilled at it. I can even smoke White Ox without wanting to throw up. What are you good at besides scrapbooking, or rather, ruining perfectly good photos by afixing cardboard and stickers to them?

And Doctors accusing smokers of “murdering” themselves or committing a really slow and drawn out “suicide” – aren’t you doing the same by advocating that people unfortunate enough to be in a vegetative state and doubly unfortunate to not have an Advanced Health Directive should be kept alive anyway?

Of course I know the “risks” – but everything’s got a risk. Who’s to say that you won’t be hit by a car simply by walking on the side of the road? Or won’t be electrocuted while making toast? I made a conscious decision to smoke fully aware that I’m in line to receive cancer, strokes, heart disease, etc. Gotta die of something. In fact, in moments of all-out snark and hatred of the world, I entertain the idea of having an iota of fame and then getting cancer, just so I could mindfuck a lazy sub-editor who wants to print that I’m “fighting” a “battle”, because nothing would give me more pleasure to say to a hack, “Actually, no. I’m not fighting. I’m not in a battle. To carcinogenics I’m a conchy. Have fun printing that.” But of course they won’t. With any luck they’ll ask if I “have a death wish?”

“Yes, you!”

Finally, the NHS spent £5.7 million on last year’s Stoptober – how about letting people who choose to smoke face the consequences themselves and spend that money on actually improving, oh I dunno, hospitals and the quality of care?

Next thing you know there’ll be Aspartame-pril, Auglutenust and MaySG, created for only a few but paid for by all.

From A to B to E (picking and mixing religion)

Not too shabby looking …

I’m not religious, so it wasn’t a big surprise that after doing an online quiz (no, not the “What type of porn star am I?” or “Which sexual position is best for me?” type) on which religion is “best” for me. I got 100% compatibility with Unitarian Universalism, which makes sense I guess – I’ve never believed in a god, much less the usual Christian one or any other type, and especially not Jesus (he’s always seemed a bit of a pansy) and the poster-child for hypocrites and the small-minded. Why have so many of my peers joined MySpace or Facebook and ticked the box that they’re a Christian when they’re anything but? My “religion” on social media has gone from Atheist to Buddhist/Judaism and is currently Humanist Judaism, which I’ve cheekily subtitled as “From Goy to Oy”, Philosemite that I am. And with all these people saying they’re a Christian despite living like a “heretic” if not the hedonist they are, it’s due to them being christened isn’t it? I was, in the Uniting Church (clearly the best form of Christianity around, with their progressiveness and acceptance of women and gay people) and it’s the only time I’ve been in a church. Same goes for them I reckon.

I used to call myself an atheist but it seemed too militant (i.e. stubborn – just look at Richard Dawkins) and so dabbled with calling myself a Humanist, but Humanism doesn’t believe in an “afterlife” – I believe in ghosts because I’ve seen one twice – if they don’t exist, then why so much of them in popular culture? Same for aliens, too – but I don’t extend the same courtesy to the current cultural undead phenomena of vampires and werewolves. That’s ridic. I dabble in astrology too, due to my mum being a teacher of it so I’ve picked up bits and pieces over the years and found most parts to be true – I’m a Leo with a Virgo moon and an Aries ascendant, and if you’re up with the zodiac then you would’ve known by now.

I’ve always felt a bit iffy towards most believers of Christianity since in my Year 5 R.E. class, when the class clown asked the voluntary scripture teacher if he was a paedophile and the guy became more flustered and “Ummed” and “Ahhed” than Hugh Grant in a rom-com, declaring “I don’t know what one of them is.” Yeah, a likely story. My other big beefs with “God-botherers”, however serious they may be, have been the remarks that when somebody dies it was “God wanted them” (hardly an invite to an A-list party) and “God sends these things to test us” – well then, get the guy a stress ball! If you’ve got stress, then take some time out, have a drink, pop a pill or change your own circumstances – don’t shift the blame to a supposedly omnipresent, phony “eye-in-the-sky” – there we go, God: the original voyeur!

And as for Catholicism, it was bad enough my ancestors were Huguenots (kicked out of France for refusing to tow the line and kow-tow to the Catholic God – what champs!) only for my great-grandparents to return to the fold and subject my family to never-ending requiem masses when they snuffed it. This point is best shown by my Mum’s favourite funereal memory, when my great-grandfather from the other side of the family had the big Catholic burial and as his coffin was lowered into the grave, one of the handlers nearly fell in with it. Imagine! Having to be bored out of your mind by Latin and other rituals, and then trying not to laugh for an hour or more. Funnily enough, my Mum – the new ager with hippie ideals that she is – rebelled as a teenager by going to a bible study group. Just goes to show the limited appeal of Christianity. And it’s always a source of mirth and dismay of the hypocrisy that her best friend from that time is still believing she’s Jesus’ own sunbeam and won’t let her kids read Harry Potter but will let them watch Star Trek.

In the census before last, I put my religion down as ‘Buddhist’, mainly to boost the numbers and I do agree with some parts of it (and as the quiz shows, I do have some “compatibility” with the Theravada and Mahayana strains of Buddhism): the eight-fold path – better than a garden path – and that the Buddha himself was pretty much a top bloke, however I don’t look good in orange and nor would I look good in Orange.

Which brings me down the list to Reform Judaism (YAY!).

Since my philosemitism blossomed at the age of 16, I’ve always been trying to learn more about Judaism as a whole, and I often think of converting, mainly for the purely selfish reason that I could then call myself Jewish, selfish because of how holistically attractive I think any Jewish person is. But if I was Jewish, would all my out and proud pro-Jew and pro-Israel sentiments then make a “God-botherer” out of me? Perhaps it’s best to leave it alone and go on being the astrology and ghost-believing atheist-lite philosemite that I am. I already bandy about words and would love to do rituals that come from Judaism and to convert to even the Reform branch of Judaism requires a few years study, and even with something I like (and parts I believe) so strongly I would inevitably indulge my indolent streak and let it slide – much like my half-arsed attempt at getting a degree, three years and counting of on-again, off-again time-wasting.

And would Jews have me anyway? For all my chest-thumping and obsessing over Judaism, I’m saddened to say that I’ve never knowingly met a Jew and worry that I appear patronising in my love, respect and defence for Jewish people. Come on, it’s all very presumptuous on my part isn’t it? There’s no Jewish congregation or even a place to go and learn about it here in Gympie where I currently live – it would be like going to learn about veganism at a butcher’s. For all the good that books do, they’re not a patch on learning in person sometimes.

As much as I believe in the separation of church and state, and that having a religion is not a be-all and end-all, the number of times I’m asked what my religion is, from Facebook to the census and general questionnaires, perhaps it’s best to just leave well alone and go on as the no-name philosophy I’ve chosen – equal parts new age larks and bits and pieces of this and that, from Buddhism to Judaism and certainly no Catholicism.