Wednesday, September 24, 2008

How to: Smoke a Pipe. Secunda Pars

Below is the second part of my primer on pipe smoking. The following is offered in response to the queries raised in response to the first part, found here.

It is possible that the foregoing sentence does not, in fact, make sense. It is not alone here.

The point anyway is that between the first bit and this bit, there was an whole other letter, to which this is the response and to which you, Dear Reader, aren't privy. I didn't write it, so I don't mean to publish it. Anyway it doesn't matter. Enjoy this one if you will, or if you can. If you prefer, don't enjoy it. It is largely the same to me.


Tipple is not a gay word. Don't be ridiculous.

Don't inhale. You'll die on the spot. It's not the point anyway. You can get plenty of nicotine and cancer in your mouth and on your tongue.

I'd like a tweed hat. But I'm afraid a lot of the hip youngsters are wearing them these days and I'd be mistaken for one. On the other hand, I am surely deluding myself when I say I could be mistaken for a hip youngster. At any rate, it would be contrived and if I'm going to be contrived I don't like to be obvious about it.

I smoke too fast, so I couldn't say how long between puffs except to say more time than I leave. Keep it lit is all. If you make of it too much science you'll lose the art. That would be a terrible shame. It is such a beautiful thing.

If you lose the art you'll lose the purpose. The art is the purpose.

Use a lighter if you will. Purists won't. I have, in the wind. I take the position that it's better to light with a lighter than not to smoke at all. But lighters are difficult, since like ballpoint pens they're meant to be used one way up and not the other. Pipe lighters are available. Matches are better. See losing the art; above. Paper matches will do in a pinch but wood matches last longer and are more likely to get the whole bowl lit on one match. Also, see losing the art; above. Use wooden matches, mate.

No, I should not have been British. If that were so, the Almighty would have seen to it that I was, you filthy blasphemer.

Anyway if I was, I'd probably not be spending the evening smoking a pipe but instead vomiting in the streets amongst young, and not-so-young women, in knicker-showing miniskirts who would probably be pleased to have me father for them another bastard child the better for them to suckle at the teat of the bloated Tony Blair State.

What a dirty shame he's become, on conversion. Thank you, no, I prefer to admire from afar what once was England. See losing the art; above. Also, it consoles me some about the state of my beloved, beleaguered Canada. Also, your position on whiskey troubles me.

2 comments:

Steve said...

Whatever they're paying you to write these words, it isn't enough.

J D Carriere said...

Thank you. I agree. If anyone wants to pay me more than zero, I'm all ears.