Confessions of a nicotine addict (1)

My name is, and I'm a nicotine addict. I've smoked 4 pipes today in as many hours. I have eaten nothing. I don't like the fact that I smoke constantly and feel jittery when I do. I smoke out of boredom, I smoke to keep my mind and hands busy rather than do what I need to do. The backs of my teeth are stained from the smoke and I get extremely impatient when I haven't smoked for more than three waking hours. I am an addict, and I wish I weren't.

My name is, and I smoke. I enjoy a good pipe. I enjoy nicotine in my blood. I'll grant to you anti-smoking control junkies that it probably isn't the healthiest thing to do. But then again, neither is stressing oneself out about what other people choose to do with their lives. The globalization of trade, the economic foundations of this country, can be directly attributed to tobacco. It is our cultural heritage, and you spit on it. Tobacco has for hundreds of years brought people together. Yes, it is a drug; but so is aspirin. And like aspirin, its mild pharmacological effects has helped and continues to help millions of people get through daily hardship, pain, and hunger. You feel anxious about your own death, transfer that fear onto the rest of society, and say it is all for the children and the common man. Your attempts to create a smoke-free world for yourselves smacks of class warfare or burgeois paternalism when riteously justified by a concern for the worker, concern for the children. Face your fears. Find religion. Do something besides imposing your all-too-powerful will upon your fellow (wo)man. I am a smoker, and I deeply resent your lust for control.