I am a smoker. I have been so for over 6 years now. I'm not proud of this fact, and I've tried and failed to quit many times. In my defense, life has not been good to me. But I won't bore the reader with these details.
The important thing is that I just read an article about the side effects of Chantix, a product of Pfizer meant to help people quit smoking (http://nymag.com/news/features/43892/). I've unsuccessfully used Chantix before, but I stopped taking it after a few days because, frankly, life's a bitch, and I need my cigs to help get me through the day. Anyways, in this article, the author describes an horrific experience in which Chantix caused her to hallucinate, caused short term memory loss, and even caused her to chat up the shadow of a potted plant.
The disturbing thing is not the article itself. Yes, I know, Pfizer and every other pharmaceutical company rushes their products onto the market without regard for human life. How surprising! No company, no individual has ever done this before. All products are safe because corporations have our best interest at heart- not profit. Never profit.
The disturbing thing is that I found myself laughing out loud at such statements as, "One afternoon, I was typing away at advertising copy, and as I did so, I began to wonder how I had succeeded in fooling myself that my life had any sort of value at all."
God, how I laughed at that. I mean, does it really take half a milligram of random chemicals to make most people question the value, the meaning of their lives? Then there was, "On the way to a wedding in the country, “I decided I would plow into a herd of sheep if the street I was looking for didn't come up soon.”"
Pure comic gold. To me at least.
I'm writing now because I wondered at my laughing at these poor people's plights. They were victims of unstable drugs, and their lives were falling apart. They ignored calls from their friends, they stayed home from work to clean up the messes they'd made of their homes... but dammit, in spite of how much I know they must have suffered, I still couldn't stifle a good belly laugh.
For whatever reason, I was laughing, really having a good chuckle at the misery this drug had caused. Especially at the author's existential crisis. Fuck, how does anyone convince themselves their lives have meaning? That's a good question, Chantix-induced or not.
Am I a bad person for laughing at her? I've certainly never wished those feelings on anyone, but in truth, I derive a great deal of pleasure from seeing someone contemplate their existence. Even if it leads to something gruesome. Of course, I hope it doesn't. But personally, I think deep contemplation is worth any cost. Even "suicidal" thoughts.
Why shouldn't we all just off ourselves? I may not be able to state the reason with perfect alacrity, but oh, there's a reason alright. Otherwise, we'd do it.
As for myself, despite how pessimistic I may seem at times, I have a great deal of hope. I have a great deal of hope things will get better, and failing that, I have a lot of hope that the earth is indeed conscious, and that it will cast us off like the self-important fools we are the moment we become too burdensome. Which will be soon, in my estimation.
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