IT'S A DIFFERENT WORLD

Over in an internet group where philosophical gentlemen and the rare philosophical gentle damsel meet and discuss pipes and tobacco, someone started a conversation about the worst tobacco they had ever smoked. Naturally, in such an obsessive group, there were opinions. There frequently are. Often wrong and strong. We're alternatively inclined.

Nearly two hundred opinionated comments.

Erinmore Flake was the first tobacco mentioned as throughly repulsive. Now, I like Erinmore Flake. I first tried it in my teens, threw up twice, and swore never to touch the stuff again. Despite the beautiful and appealing canary yellow tins with the red trademark, very tempting, and instantly familiar to anyone who has thrown up twice because of the contents.

A few years ago I tried it again. I'm rather fond of it, intellectually, and if you smoke slow on the cusp of going out, it is pleasant, enjoyable even. A decent mostly Virginia product. The bizarre top dressing fades within moments of lighting up, and it renders down to a fine ash.

Two ancient and doddering gentlemen in Marin used to smoke it. They are dead now, and the tobacco was probably not responsible for that, as they were both seriously getting on in years, having been born well before the Second World War. It is conceivable that their "tastes" contributed to their long lives.

St. Bruno Flake and MacBaren Vanilla were also mentioned, and cursed as vile, along with the entire Borkum Riff and Captain Black oeuvres (stellarly popular among bikers, deviants, and blue collar criminals, indicative of bestial tendencies and unmentionable ailments), as well as Half & Half (equal parts Virginia and Burley, and displeasing to both sides of that equation). Plus something notoriously trashy flavoured with cherries, and the horrid "tobacco" that Hugh Heffner and Frank Sinatra favoured: Mixture 79.

I've tried Mixture 79. It is loathsome. Whatever miniscule shred of semi-respect I ever may have felt for those two repulsive specimens of humanity (Heffner and Sinatra) promptly went so far out the door and with such violent force that I cannot bear to even hear them mentioned in the same breath as Neo-Nazis, Attila the Hun, Donald Trump, the Proud Boys, the Bharata Janata Party, or lawyer-Bob-the-raving-gun-nut of the East Bay group
I have a container of it that is over two decades old.
Under my bed, very tightly sealed.
It's extremely nasty.
Faugh.


Inevitably, blends with Latakia were mentioned.


"Alicia, first rule in this group: Thou shalt not butt in and get there first when John O. is, once-a-bloody-gain, preparing a treatise against Lakakia."
-------Martin F.


"Roses are red, violets are blue,
965 tastes ... just like poo."
-------John O.


Bombs went off for another hundred-plus comments.
A savage fray, with many casualties.
Blood and gore everywhere.
Quite lovely.

Now, to any non-smokers who may have gotten this far into this essay, I should point out that some of the most splendid and fondly remembered tobacco mixtures ever made prominently featured Latakia. I myself smoked Latakia blends for years, with great enjoyment, and never minded the helpful souls who lovingly advised me that I would have far more friends, and might even have a social life with real humans to talk to, if I stopped huffing that stuff! Despite your horrible body odour, sharp claws, and glowing red eyes. Good lord, man, your thick pelt that proves you are actually a werewolf!

It's a rather lovely tobacco. I still love the smell when someone else is smoking it. Even though nowadays I almost exclusively load Virginia & Perique mixtures into my pipes.
I find them subtle and extremely satisfying.


The discussion is barely a day old. It's probably just getting started, should go on all week.
I think we're all enjoying it. Venomously, and with vituperation.
Evil juices are flowing.


By the way, the tin of Erinmore I opened a while back is within arms reach.
It smells fecundly rich, still has a hint of pineapples.
There are several pipes nearby.

TOBACCO INDEX


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