The last time I bought my cigars at Rite-Aid, the clerk had to give me some kind of disclaimer. “Other than a waste of paper,” I asked, “what’s this?” “We have to give one to every customer who buys a tobacco product,” the clerk explained. “See? There’s a camera up there, so they can check.” And sure enough, there was the surveillance camera.
Today when I went in, I had to give my date of birth. Apparently my grey hairs are not enough to prove I’m of age to have a cigar. I complained about that. “As of next week,” said the clerk, “you’ll have to show us your ID, too.” But of course it would be wrong, wrong, wrong to ask me to show ID before I can vote on who ought to be president.
I’m losing patience with this. Are they keeping a database on everyone who smokes? How many different databases do they have, for how many different categories of people? Does there have to be a camera peering at us wherever we go?
“Oh, but it serves you right! Because you’re a smoker, and smoking is a dirty habit, and unhealthy, and now that the government is taking over health care, we don’t want to be wasting public money on you dirty no-good smokers!”
Hey, you poor dopes out there who think you’re going to be given a free pass for your vices, whatever they might be–don’t get too comfy, because your turn will come. Today they’re monitoring the smokers, so they’ll know who to throw into the camps when the time comes. But they’ll get around to you over-eaters, under-eaters, sugar freaks, couch potatoes.
The only freedom our ruling experts intend to leave us is the license to fornicate without restriction.
Not because they want us to have fun, but because they want us to be as immoral as they are.