The Art of the Cigarette

Alexander Wells

Smoking has always been associated with the darker, enticing streets of life. The parts of the street that want you to simultaneously and willingly put your health in danger and not give a shit about it. With red light districts that show off the fallen and reluctant heroes from the Noir and Western eras: the Eastwoods and the Waynes, the Haydens and the Holdens, the Fords and the Fondas, and the Douglas’ and the Deans. And for a cost, you can smoke with/like them.

Our grandfathers exposed us to the bad influences of these distant icons. They were men in every sense of the word. The men our young selves wanted to be and some of us would eventually become. They cursed, they fought, they fucked and they smoked; during fights, after fucks and with tobacco laced with profanity.

How could we not want to be a part of that persona?

Sure, there are plenty of people out there who smoke to reduce stress or to be a part of the crowd. Many girls won’t identify with these ideas about smoking. But us boys, underneath it all we are trying to inhale the ashes of the men we chased after in childhood.

Or some of us just like the taste of nicotine.


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Categories: Art

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3 Comments on “The Art of the Cigarette”

  1. Mara
    02.13.12 at 2:19 AM #

    please tell me you’re ironic here. i thought you were sincere when you said “there are too many dicks on this dance floor”

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