Got a Nicotine problem? Use Parenticide...

You could have done more, but you didn't. Now they're gone. In the cold, damp ground. And they're never coming back. Mummy is dead. The lack of her warm, fragrant embrace pains you daily; the pain of guilt as well as grief.

You could have done more...

No, it's not a depressing Carol Ann Duffy poem, nor a miserable monologue from a C4 miniseries about rape, incest and the industrial revolution. No, this is the gist of the NHS's new anti-smoking campaign entitled 'Scared'.

Now don't get me wrong, I am not averse to anti-smoking campaigns; I recently gave up smoking myself in a bid to get healthier, both physically and financially...

But for fuck's sake.

Just watch it again. Seriously, even if you've already seen it, watch it again. Is that not the most emotionally manipulative voice-over you've ever heard? If only she'd been born fifteen years earlier; the Care Bears would have been fucked. Forget the 'Forest of Feelings', the 'Land of Excruciating Lung Cancer and Eventual Undignified Death' would have earned CITV millions to the point where the BBC would have been forced to hurriedly create a ratings competitor about alcohol abuse, starring a deformed Iraqi orphan refugee child abuse victim. It would have fallen on its arse of course, she's just too good, but you get my point.

"But it's supposed to be emotionally manipulative", I hear you say, "that's the whole point of campaigns like this - they're designed to make you stop." And a valid point you make too, except one thing... any smoker with half a brain knows the implications of their habit; the general smoking public doesn't need to be emotionally blackmailed to make it quit. Patronising people doesn't help, in fact it does the opposite. I have a burning urge to light up every time I see it. Not because I crave one. Not because the merest mention of the word 'cigarette' sets me off again like some deranged nicotine fiend. No, I want one out of spite. I want one just to prove to them that it doesn't work, and that their heartstring-tugging antics repulse me. How dare they. How very well fucking dare they. I breathe my ash in their general direction. 'Smokers Unite'. 'Marlboro Red Solidarity', etc, etc.

If only he'd nagged a little harder...

But what really ticks me off about its melancholic, drippy approach to the ramifications of smoking, though, is its complete and utter disregard for the innocence of children of smoker parents. Far from being aimed primarily at adults, the NDS openly admit on their website to targeting children and parents alike: "The adverts will be timed to air in the early evening when both parents and their children are most likely to be watching together..." Fantastic. Although, unfortunately, that isn't all: "...to trigger discussion and motivate parents to use local NHS Stop Smoking Services". To trigger discussion? Eh? Let me tell you how that 'discussion' goes.

Little Lulu: "I think you should stop smoking, mummy."



Mother: "It's not that simple, darling."



Little Lulu: "Why not?"



Mother: "It just isn't. Oh look, 5pm. Bed time."



*Mother decides to get rat-arsed. Goes through a 20-pack in one night.*



I know, I've been there.

The only outcome is that the parent becomes irate at the child's obsession with his/her health. In turn, this makes the child feel as if it has a responsibility to said parent. The parental roles have now well and truly been reversed. It's like that film, Big, except Tom Hanks is brain-damaged and the kid is a selfish, belligerent wanker.

And so the child has many a sleepless night, and he/she nags and nags, and nags some more, and nags little harder, and then the parent 'decides to quit', only to be discovered one morning, weeks later, by the child with a fag in his/her mouth and a can of Stella wedged in between his/her crotch. And so the nagging and deception continues until: 1) the parent in question dies a horrible, agonising cancerous death, or 2) the parent remains alive at least up until the child's teens... and would you look at that! He/she smokes too now! And believe you me, it really is a 'can't beat 'em, might as well join 'em' philosophy which leads most teenagers down that ashen road. It's what being a DEA clerk must feel like. You hate cocaine, but Christ there's a lot of it; maybe if I just try a little... no-one will notice...

In summary: fuck them. Fuck them with a big cigar. Up the arse. When 'scared' comes on during an ad break on a nice, relaxing Saturday afternoon evening, just switch it off. Just forget about it. You don't need to see it and they definitely don't need to see it. They'll have enough stress to deal with in the near future. Let them enjoy this relative innocence while they still can. And you? Well if you have any sense, you'll get yourself some Zyban and take another crack at it - and yeah, I know it isn't easy. Whatever you decide to do though, don't be dictated to by evocative adverts which seek to scare rather than inform. You're not that weak.