Cigarettes, Crazy Birds And The Evolution
With a risk to sound silly or blunt, I am really, honestly, amazed by human capability of doing something like smoking tobacco. And I’m saying that as a smoker. It’s not that, by smoking, I do something completely unnecessary, I do something utterly ridiculous. But, it seems that is a step in evolution of a living form.
I won’t start a list of bad things that a cigarette does and/or can do to me and the environment. Those have been said enough times already. But I love that kick in the brain that the first couple of inhales make. And I love the taste of it. That is, in the case of a good Dutch blend that you have to roll by yourself, and not some industrial, over-advertised, additionally poisoned shit. But still, I love smoking.
But, the question remains, why do I do it? It does taste good, but the taste wears off after a while. And I know of much better ways to kick my brain. Though not so available and not so repeatable ways. I am not going to answer the question why do I do it. If I knew that answer, I wouldn’t be in the nasty situation most of the smokers are.
No matter how intelligent and special specie we like to think we are, we, humans, are just another form of life. Sure, our intelligence helped us finding out that inhaling the tobacco smoke does something to us. Our developed fingers help us roll the cigarette. But that’s it. The rest is just the kick in the brain. The same kind as the kick that lab rat feels while pushing the button to receive the tasty ball of food or some other pleasant stimulus. And you know, give a good enough stimulus and the rat will jerk that button until self destruction.
Have in mind that rats are an intelligent specie too. That’s why they make a connection between the button and pleasure. Fish won’t fall into that trap. Before you draw any conclusion, let’s say that, most probably, fish would get into any pleasant self-destructing habit, if only was smart enough to find it. Fish is protected by its own stupidity.
There is a story about where the idea for Alfred Hitchcock’s Birds came from. Somewhere in the USA there is a river with algae that blooms every several years. Trick is that, while in bloom, this algae produces some psychedelic chemical. The birds in the area eat the plant all the time, but when the algae goes blooming birds go wild. Not as aggressive as in the movie (it’s a triller, not the educational program, after all) but disoriented, reckless and… well, you know… like birds on drugs. Flying around like mad, occasionally smashing themselves against the walls, trees and windshields.
We’ll never know if they like the drug. Do they feel a nice surprise when mother nature put something funny in their food? Or they bug out, not knowing what’s happening and don’t like it? Hardly so. Over the centuries, they have learned what else not to eat to avoid poisoning. And, those that survive the crazy ride come again the next season. No matter how small the brain is, it’s fun to screw it.
So, here I am, lighting another cigarette. Smart enough to do it. Not smart enough not to do it. An another example of the specie that enjoys its own self-destruction.