Jack Bunburry elaborates on the virtues of vice


I love smoking. It is, in one over-taxed stick of death, a perfect metaphor for exactly how shit everything worth enjoying is. I do mean everything, because I have yet to find something worth spending time on that is better than smoking.

Let me add this caveat: I am perfectly well aware of the dangers of tobacco use. I have seen as many pictures of diseased lungs as I need to, although feel free to send me letters explaining just how sad your grandfather’s death was. I’m running low on toilet roll and scratch paper, so I could use them.

In fact, my own grandmother was killed by smoking. Granted, she tripped over an empty pack and hit her head, but it still killed her. In the end, so does pretty much everything else worth doing.

Smoking is, essentially, hedonism at its finest and most honest. A really good cigarette is like taking a shit. It stinks, you feel a bit lighter afterwards, and it’s a reminder of how disgusting it is to be human. The fact that other things people consider enjoyable aren’t as blatantly vile and sexy doesn’t make them any better.

I could sling shit about the Nazis banning smoking like a chimpanzee in heat but it wouldn’t make smoking seem any better to you. That’s not the point. The point isn’t that smoking’s not horrible for you or only slightly less disgusting than (insert profane imagery here).The point is that whatever you enjoy sucks just as bad as an activity based entirely around inhaling through a thin opening.

You see, smoking isn’t worth enjoying despite being self destructive, it’s worth enjoying because it’s self destructive. Every single activity worth doing brings you that much closer to death. The better ones usually just bring you there a bit more quickly. To sum up: Life is terrible, death is its climax, and smoking is just the hot chick who gets you there faster than you had previously thought possible.

Of course no one is going to agree that the things they devote their time to suck more than Paris Hilton at a “free publicity for being a whore” convention. (Hey, the imagery can’t all be gold. I’m on a deadline and there’s a very attractive girl I should be cooly ignoring in the room.) (No, that joke wasn’t subtle, but is subtlety really what you’re reading this article for?)

Obviously, no one wants to think that everything they enjoy is slowly destroying them. White suprematists also don’t want to believe the holocaust happened. Unfortunately, wanting to believe something doesn’t make it any more true. If it did, none of my ex-girlfriends would be manipulative bitches with diagnosed personality disorders.

But it doesn’t and now I understand first hand why an anorexic girl with borderline personality disorder who happens to weigh less than you is never going to be as sweet as you think she is while she’s trying to use you to get back at her ex-boyfriend. Not that I’m bitter or anything.

On the topic of bitter men: Thomas Hobbes was right. It isn’t just my editor who is, “nasty, cruel, brutish, and short.” Life is too. Fortunately for us, we have luxuries afforded to us that Hobbes did not.

The poor man lived in a world where it was impossible to spend an evening chain smoking, binge drinking, and eating chips while pretending to give a damn about men he’d never meet kicking a checkered ball around a field. But we few, we happy few, we band of imbeciles can feel free to indulge as much as we like in the gleefully wanton pleasure that surround us. At, of course, the small price that these activities will slowly kill us.

The fact is, the most natural state for the human body is one of decay. Sitting in a room breathing will slowly kill you. Sitting in a room breathing delicious carcinogenic smoke kills you faster and better.

Take moderation and make like a modern deity: Say to hell with it. Your death isn’t escapable. Your ability to enjoy the next few hours of your life damn well is.

Your life is a cigarette. You can leave it on a shelf and let it slowly rot, or light that shit up and inhale.

Jack Bunburry


  1. A part of me feels I should not even respond to your inane statement, and instead work on my international relations paper. But here is to procrastination: First, let me add this caveat: I do not care if people smoke. It is their life, not mine. I do care, however, when people make idiotic statements in the school newspaper. I understand wanting to give into your appetites and desires, I really do. Every weekend I have the urge to get completely wasted and going around hitting arrogant, narcissistic idiots like you so hard in the testicles that they cannot reproduce. I refrain, however, because Plato thought only animalistic people give into their desires and appetites. This brings me to my second point. You need to read up on your philosophy my friend. Hobbes said life is “nasty, cruel, brutish, and short” in THE STATE OF NATURE. Last time I checked, we are currently abiding by the social contract and living under a governmental institution. Therefore, our personal security is secured and life is not “nasty, cruel, brutish, and short.” I would also like to remind you that the same governmental institution that theoretically protects us from the state of nature (aka the state of war) has enabled you to freely express your views. However, right now wish this was not the case. Moreover, while are going to publicly diagnosising people with personality disorders let analyze you. How about you grab the DSM and look up narcissistic personality disorder. Lastly, here is my sob story for you to wipe your ass with. When I was sixteen I had cancer. I did not smoke and I lived a pretty healthy lifestyle, just a case of bad luck. I do not resent the fact that people like you decide to take actions that will lead them to this end, where I did not. I resent the fact that I have had to watch four year old children fight for their lives, while idiots like you walk around bringing cancer on themselves. The worst part of all is that some of the kids have died and will die of cancer, and you probably will not. I am not writing to you to tell you to stop smoking, in fact the complete opposite. I want you to continue to smoke and paralyze your cilia. In fact, I will even throw you a few pounds for cigarettes. I hope you enjoy “the next few hours of your life.” I just hope when you croak people realize it is just natural selection taking place.


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