Octopodial Chrome

Hugo Restall, an old China hand, has taken up smoking. I can’t say that it’s a very good idea, as cigarettes really are bad for one’s health (and the frequency with which they’re smoked is distressing). OTOH, it’s refreshing to read someone write so well about tobacco in a mainstream publication: woody and nutty, with hints of pine shavings and hickory; the bouquet of preserved plums.

He should smoke a pipe, not cigarettes…

Bill Burney has created an excellent guide to pipe shapes. This doesn’t cover all of them—there are a lot and I’ve never seen one reference with all the variations—but it covers the major ones and most of the minor ones. It’s an invaluable reference, and cool just to look at too.

Tonight is the night freedom in Colorado dies. Tomorrow is the day the Californication of our once-fair state quickens. You should be ashamed, all of you who have banned smoking from bars, pool halls and bowling alleys. The sad thing is that there’s very little chance the ban will ever be repealed. This is how freedom ends: not with a bang but with a whimper.

So I went over to my folks’ place tonight ’cause I wanted some advice on a decision I need to make at work. They were actually quite helpful with that, and I think that I now know which choice is the best. Afterwards, though, it devolved into their standard catalogue of everything they dislike about me, which is not all that bad to tell the truth. They’re even correct about some things—although despite my flippant attitude, these are actually things I’ve been thinking of already.

But then it turned from mildly annoying to full-on nasty. My father started castigating for introducing my kid brother to smoking—which might be fair were it true. The facts are somewhat different: he learnt it from his co-workers and I discouraged him from smoking cigarettes once I found out that he was addicted to them—discouraged him quite vigorously, to the point of annoying him quite a bit. I did encourage him to smoke a pipe, in part because I believe that in moderation it is a pleasant past-time with essentially no negative side effects and in part because it has been found to be an excellent way to quit cigarettes. Additionally he was the one who inspired me to buy my hookah, rather than vice-versa.

My parents are very intelligent people, but in some few ways they are complete fools. You know how often I smoke? One pipe a week; perhaps once a month I have a second one. The last cigar I had was at the beginning of April. If that is a dangerous addiction, I don’t know what isn’t. Quite simply, there’s nothing hazardous about four or five pipesful a month and two or three cigars a year. In their defence, I think they believe that it’s impossible to be a once-a-week smoker—but my own example disproves that idea (in college I smoked 4–6 pipes a day, and in my first few years after graduation I smoked most days of the week).

I fanned the flames by saying that I’ve little respect for non-smokers, which was rude and upset my father more than I would have expected. But it’s also true: a non-smoker is like a man who walks around with his eyes closed, adamant that colour doesn’t exist; if only he’d open his eyes he’d see a world of beauty and delight.

What I didn’t say (because I was hot under the collar, and in no mood to be conciliatory) is that I also have little respect for smokers (by which term I mean addicts). Addiction is an ugly thing and a sign of weakness. It’s absurd to be cranky and short-tempered simply because one hasn’t indulged in some pleasure; worse, it’s childish.

Speaking of, I guess I’m growing up: a year ago, right now I’d be smoking a pipe out of spite, but tonight the only aroma in my condo is the night air drifting in from my balcony. I’m more sad about the whole business than angry at my parents.

John Ringo meditates on the glory which is smoking. There is a romance to smoking which the snivelling masses will never understand, and which Ringo only alludes to, for it can never be explained—only lived. Thanks to Capt. Andrew Diedrich for the link; he sometimes posts to his brother’s blog.x

Yesterday I was at my local tobacconist when a young couple happened in; their errand was to buy pipes for their wedding party and for the groom himself. They ended up with some truly spectacular specimens, six in total; by their appearance I would say $100–300 pipes. It turned out that none of the groomsmen—nor the groom—had smoked a pipe, so the clerk gave him some quick lessons. I hope that they all stick to it, for it’s a healthy hobby and one to be encouraged wherever possible.

And by the looks of those pipes, I wish I were one of his men…

HarperCollins have decided that young children are too delicate to be exposed to a picture of Clement Hurd, illustrator of the beloved children’s book Goodnight Moon, and thus the picture will be censored—digitally altered to remove the cig from Mr. Hurd’s fingers. A Web site, Goodnight Reality, has been created to oppose this revisionism. As it points out, Stalin altered photographs to remove inconvenient facts. Heck, when even the New York Times mocks you, maybe you should reconsider.

From Tim Daneliuk on alt.smokers.pipes:

Blends That Never Were - Part III

My Own Jihad

A Blend of 72 Different Virginias. You'll Be in Heaven!

Baathist Blend

Syrian Latakia and Sand Combine for a Taste You Won't Live to Remember.

Chalk and Awe

An English Style Blend Made in America. Noteworthy for Its Casing of Cordite, Gunpowder, and Nitro-Toluene. (Primarily for Export)

Axioms of Evil

Dark Kentucky and Black Twist Are Combined Against the Backdrop of Machine Shop Oil and Chroming Residues. For the Philosophically Minded Dictator.

Sauerbratten Flake

A Muscular Tobacco Cased in Sauerkraut Juice. For Smokers with Dreams of Empire.

Commie Kake

Red Virginias Topped with the Bitter Residue of Failed Ambition.

Montgoobery

A Luxuriant Blend of Virginia Leaf Topped with Peanut Butter.

Lombeard

An Interesting Combination of Virginias, Orientals, and Alaskan Latakia. Gently Dusted with Our Secret Ingredient from Al the Pet Barber. An Entirely New Take on Hair Of The Dog.Our Worst Blend

Sawdust, Floor Sweepings, and Rat Droppings Adorn a Base of Cigar Ash and Used Nasal Snuff. A Gift for Treasured In-Laws.

Crown Revilement

Straight Perique Cased in a Paste of Refried Beans, Prune Juice, And Tabasco. Terrific When You Really Need To Get Going.

This perhaps makes the most sense when one understand pipe tobaccos—trust me, it’s actually quite hilarious.

I recently discovered The Online Pipe Tobacco Cellar. Very cool idea: one enters info about one’s personal collection of tobaccos, and it tracks it.

I just discovered the alt.smokers.pipes Pay It Forward programme. It’s a means for a beginning pipe smoker to get his hands on a pipe and some decent tobacco completely free (although the hope is that he’ll return the favour someday). It’s not the cheapest hobby in the world to get started at (one needs 7x as many pipes as one smokes in a day, and a rack, and tampers, stands, ashtrays, tobacco jars and the like). In my youth I was helped out by several folks (a professor at college gave me a wonderful large Talamona, and the father of a good friend gave me his old rack & jar); maybe I’ll donate some cash to the programme in the hopes of paying my debt.

Apparently back in ’91 there was a fad for eating dishes made with tobacco. Naturally, this highly annoyed certain nattering nabobs of negativism. Interestingly, a Danish restaurant just had a tobacco dinner. I’d always figured that tobacco was too poisonous to eat, but I suppose it’s true that it’s the dose which makes the poison. I’ll have to try a very small pinch of ground baccy as a seasoning in my next soup or something—or maybe add a slight bit to some steak marinade.

Smokers, take heart: Forces International is here to represent your interest against the lies of anti-smoking zealots. They also advocate against the food police and the latest silly superstition to hit the stage: being over-sensitive to smell.

Why quit smoking? The average lifespan would increase by 15–20 months if all forms of cancer, cardiovascular disease and other causes of death (including traffic accidents) (including those completely unrelated to smoking) were completely eliminated from the population. For cancer alone, that figure is 15 days. Well, I for one am willing to trade 15 days for a lifetime of happiness.