Jesus stole my ashtray

Andreas and I have an agreement: if he decides to find Jesus, I will start smoking. I’ve been looking for Virginia Slims all over Europe. They’re the best ironic choice for the pseudo-hipster, American expat feminist, no? I may have to choose something more proletariat, like Parliaments or Marlboro. I also like the brand names about ruling, Kings and Prince. The Danish Queen Margrethe smokes Prince, but I think they should make a lady monarch brand. I can’t settle for patriarchal cigs.

It isn’t like anyone is finding religion or seeking a way to reject the advancements in their personal health over the last few years, but you have to be prepared should one of these things change. I have a fake loosey I practice with. I’ll probably only light the real things to let them burn. But at least then other outcasts will know I’m one with their cause, and I’ll have a new excuse to leave an extra long dinner party (and if you’ve ever been to a Danish holiday - or hell, any Danish meal, ever - you’ll appreciate just what I mean).

Smoking isn’t allowed in public buildings in Denmark, so at the Copenhagen airport, they built a tiny glass compartment for the smokers coming off the international flights. Since it may be a bit before you can collect your luggage and pass customs, they’ve built a functional shaming device for the addicts. Go in there and smoke as needed, but we’re all watching you like animals at the zoo. (The only difference is that the animals didn’t do anything wrong.) This of course makes it easier to be a elitist smoker, as I’d plan to be. No littering, smoking around children, and generally acting as though you’re participating in a high-minded practice despite the obvious evidence to the contrary. “I don’t just throw my butts on the ground.” “I only smoke in this weird transparent room thing.” And I’d support the proposed EU ban on non-fire-safe smokes.

In Scandinavia, not only do most people not smoke, thanks to the pervasive bans on the habit; according to a new book, many folks are agnostic to boot. Americans have, in the past year mostly, latched onto the idea that Scandinavians, particularly Danes, are the happiest people in the world. But I’ve seen a few of the so-called investigative news programs about this supposed phenomenon, and I wonder why the lack of religious Danes has never come up in the in-depth reports (aside from the massive uproar it might cause in an obscenely religious nation like the U.S.). They mostly talk to folks who don’t freak out about money and healthcare, due in large part to the fact that here, you can make a living as an artist (if one which is government-subsidized and art institute-funded - you know, assuming you can get over that) and have the freedom to quit a job you hate (unemployment kicks in for everyone, not just fired folks). They don’t actually explain the social welfare state, nor do they mention how the government and religious organizations don’t have to bicker over who should provide social services. They just remark that there’s no incentive to be unhappy in Denmark, save you’re just predispositioned that way.

Of the folks I’ve asked, by no means a representative sample, they say that most Danes simply don’t consider spiritual matters on that kind of grand scale. And most of my American friends and peers spent their youth being terrorized by fears of their parents burning in hell or worrying that their natural sexual tendencies, for example, were evil and worthy of being disowned. So leaving out a bunch of information and making generalizations, who is really better off - happier - in this scenario?

“These days, when someone smokes in the movies, they’re either a psychopath or a European,” so says a character in the film Thank You For Smoking. Right, but what if you happen to be a little of both?