Thursday, September 22, 2011

NYC Puffers Petition UN For Right Of Return

New York City Smokers have presented a petition to the United Nations General Assembly through the French Embassy asking for the right of return as the oppressive Bloomberg regime continues to restrict and harass them. The petition was considered a non-starter before smoking was banned in all city parks, beaches and public spaces in May. Now delegates of former colonial powers are seeing first hand the tyranny imposed on smokers under God’s roof.

Second hand smoke is not the issue as there are no studies to support the danger of being in sight of someone smoking outdoors. City council members claimed that littering was a concern but since there are already laws against this it is irrelevant.

The issue is class warfare and racism. In a city built on the trade of tobacco, where the average day’s air quality is more dangerous than smoking two packs of cigarettes a day anti-smoking hysterics now do not want to see anyone smoking. The question is who smokes?

Statistics show that the less money you make and the darker your skin the more likely it is you are a smoker. Smoking is the poor man’s comfort. Though the mayor’s office has claimed that smoking has decreased in the city they are going by local tobacco sales that are the highest taxed in the country. Even uneducated immigrants have figured out that those taxes can be avoided for a five dollar round trip ride on the Path train to New Jersey. (The New York City and State taxes on one pack amount to more than that,)

As the aging Yuppies who moved to New York from the suburbs found that their money and connections could override the rights of the poorer and more ethnically diverse native New Yorkers smoking laws became a weapon to shape the city to their liking.

Over a decade ago the Yuppies moved en masse to low rent party districts in Manhattan and Brooklyn then pressed to have the bars and restaurants cleared of cigarette smoke while allowing the far more toxic smoke of paraffin table candles to continue. Pushing up the rents on the artists and locals they then besieged their police precincts with complaints of noise. The noise was smokers forced outside to smoke conversing.

Why anyone would move to the East Village, Meat Packing District or Dumbo and expect suburban peace and quiet can only be explained by this group’s unreasonable sense of entitlement or just plain stupidity.

The Yuppies transportation of choice even in the most urban area of the country with the best public transportation system in the world is the SUV or Suburbanite Uber Volt (Suburbanites over the people), which is exempt from EPA standards and is estimated to produce an exhaust 10,000 times more toxic than tobacco smoke. Car exhaust, unlike tobacco smoke, does not dissipate but remains part of the air we all breath until it rains heavily.

So as children are less and less exposed to tobacco smoke they suffer more and more from asthma, bronchitis and deadly allergies. Even the most creative and manipulated scientific studies have been unable to explain this to the satisfaction of the oppressors.

Could it be that the affluent SUV and other big car drivers who live and work in climate controlled enviroments are murdering the poor minority smokers and are trying to deflect the blame by demonizing them?

The United Nations will decide.

NYC smokers are rebelling against segregation, employment and health care discrimination and demanding the right of return to bars, parks and beaches. They are taxed higher than any other American. While the health hysterics have returned to the tactics of their vegetarian and tobacco-despising hero Adolph Hitler the international community has reacted.

Pinwar Swinbowsie, delegate of Bong Congo explained:
“Americans are haters. The only reason they have not become more globally oppressive is because there are always voters whose ancestors came from wherever. In order to protect themselves from endless civil war they have created laws to protect the different groups defined by race, religion, gender and such. But they have to have a demon so they turn their insatiable prejudice on behavior groups. There are too many fat people so obesity is protected. So they pick on the smokers. Smokers are the new niggers.”

Don Arrup
Satire1

Friday, September 9, 2011

The News Don't Matter

Everywhere I go it’s the newspaper. I’ve had it. I walk out of my building into six degrees above global warming with a skin cancer index of dead in two weeks. I’m sweating. I can see my breath as a clear stream in the car exhaust. I walk closely behind a cheap cigar smoker for the fresh air. A woman with a matching hat and handbag steps on my foot with her stiletto and then threatens to sue me for checking out her behind. So I limp to the corner newsstand picking up the pace as one of the pitbullasorouses that Michael Vick didn’t murder is slobbering at my inseam. All to see Jimmy the Other Greek for some toilet literature.

Jimmy the Other Greek tries to sell me the New York Times, Post, Sun, Newsday and the Daily News, Dispatch, Tattler, Record. I tell him its summer. I hate the beach. I want a bikini magazine.

Jimmy says nobody wants to buy the papers these days and he doesn’t understand why. I tell him to just read one and the mystery will dissolve. He tries to sell me Sports Illustrated. I tell him the bikinis are too small. I want a big bikini magazine. Bikinis that actually have a whole woman inside them. I’ve looked at these models. They even live around here. They live on bottled water and makeup. They couldn’t eat if they wanted to. They have no internal organs.

Jimmy the Other Greek says there must be something he has that I want. He owes me money. I never lent him any money. I would just hand him a twenty for the two dollar Times and he wouldn’t give me any change. He put it on his tab. This has been going on for years and he owes me enough to put me through NYU Law School for a semester. I hear you can get laid there.

He tries to talk me into smoking. He says he’ll give me the cigarettes for free and all I have to pay is the tax. The entire price of cigarettes is tax. The pack costs a buck fifty and the rest of the fifteen bucks is federal, state and local tax. And they won’t let you smoke them anywhere. Not even in some co ops now.

Jimmy apologizes and said that he had some big bikini magazines last week but the Taliban came by and threatened to rip his moustache off. So he gave them away to the illegal immigrants who hang on the corner waiting for day work managing hedge funds.
Okay, forget it. I’m going to whistle while I toil this week. I need a sandwich. The counter I have the least fear of because not even a germ could survive the filth is two blocks south on Broadway. Order kosher ham on whole grain styrafoam with pomegranate mustard goddess low cal dressing and a fat Coke.

President Obama is seated three stools down sandwiched between the earplugs and dark sunglasses. I yell Hey Prez, what are you doing about getting my brother a job. Obama says he’s worried about his job. I say what about the deficit? He says look where I’m eating. I ask about the stimulus and he says he’s leaving a tip. I think Social Security will be there long enough for me to finish my sandwich so I leave the man alone.

House Speaker Boehner is at the corner getting a hot dog and negotiating the relish. Says he’s on the way to a tea party on Park Avenue. Old money and cucumber sandwiches. He needs a dog. A red hot. In Texas it would be a barbeque, big hair and boobs. Here, it’s a wrinkle post with a tiara. His socks are too thin, like hose. Black guys can pull that off but white guys just look like their wannabe sidekick.

I like Obama and Boehner. I know they really try doing what are today impossible jobs. Maybe I should say super impossible. They are not the problem. Politicians are not the problem. We are the problem. We’re just the bigger and harder working version of Greece right now and we still think we’re America.

Maybe last millennium. Before Wall Street started playing Monopoly with real real estate. We were all house happy. So the colleges and doctors figure if everyone’s a millionaire lets triple prices. I own two hundred credit cards.

My TV is not big enough. You need a screen wide enough to make you turn your head. Keep you active. My car is too small. I could never fit a NFL cheerleading squad in there. Not a polite fit. I don’t spend enough time beating my kids. They’re wild animals.

Don Arrup
Satire1