Thin walls and perky people are the scourge of the modern world, not ‘terrorism’.
This planet is crowded with 6 billion some odd people, and 5 billion of them are the
underpaid such as myself that must live in sardine cans with thin walls.
Gossip might as well not be because no matter the number of cackling women and no matter what room you’re in you hear it all- a scintillating conversation covering shoes, boyfriends, pregnancy, 101 Ways To Make Baklava and cassoulet, pregnancy. Pregnancy. Pregnancy.
This is how I first heard of Schiavo. Months after the world learned how to even spell Schiavo or even knew what this smiling genius much looked like, news of it shot right through that paper thin wall in the form of self-righteous gossip…. and here I am writing about a woman that means shit to me because the Self-Righteous and Uninformed are two of my muses.
A little research tells me she was a lively girl and daughter who met her husband at community college and was his loving wife until her heart stopped and gave her a stroke in 1990. She’s been a vegetable since but her name has become a crusade that has made it all the way to the Vatican - not to mention that she’s inflamed school children with a penny-collecting hemorrhoid to pay for Schiavo’s Plight .
You punch in Shavo or Shndler by mistake, and Google corrects it for you.
All this for a woman that would otherwise have been remembered as a really good cook with, like, nice teeth.
And now, she’s got me writing about her.
I wonder if its just me that’s noticed the delicacy of Irony in this whole..thing?
She’s a bulimic.
And the debate is over starving someone.... that spent more than half her life starving herself?
Nonetheless, it was the marked opinion from a self-righteous cow in that living room- a Christian cow, mind you- that’s brought me to talk about a bed sore in purgatory named Terri Schiavo. Otherwise, I’d have left it alone.
This woman I refer to as Cow not only felt all human life was precious but the sound through the wall gave this image of a Holstein pursing its snout just like this *pucker* to quip, arms akimbo,
“Who do they think they are?! To put a price on human life like that! Human life. The government should have no say in whether I should live or die or anyone else or what we should do with it. Poor woman…..its all about money. Her parents love her, and that meany, meany husband of hers looks like a cereal killer. Oh, and abortion…”
Now, keep in mind that despite her oh so many faults, this cow is a productive, tax paying Cow and more than likely has used her city’s emergency services and health care waivers and her workplace is safe because its standardized according to regulations made possible with tax money. Even more likely than not, she has insurance policies on all her children, herself, and her husband.
Her paycheck, like yours, subsidizes the Social Security fund she will retire on years from now or use in case she too becomes the famous eggplant that Schiavo is.
Society, and by this we also mean Government, has long decided your life does have a price tag- getting well takes money and any insurance policy or waiver tells you every day that you agreed to put a bracket price on human life.
The mechanics of pure capitalism calls for a complete separation of state and economy- as we have it, even unpure, it still holds true that it is fundamentally a system of exchange.
It was never meant to be this pussywilled Daisyworld where billions are poured into the dead end of keeping a torso alive for so long because all its citizens are so scared and fragile and dumb that government-funded companies are set up to make sure the office paper doesn’t give your average yuppie a fucking paper cut.
Capitalism is at bottom a system of legitimate trade and, in theory, the closest thing to a meritocracy- socialism was supposed to be the food-source of terrified parasites, not this.
In capitalist logic, a creditor most certainly has a say on the decisions taken by its debtor as soon as those decisions influence that relation.
You and I are its debtors, and vise versa- we have as much right to vote and earn income as the government has as much right to at least have a say on whether it would agree to pay your $5000 a month hospice bill through Medicaid.
Techincally free.
So where abortion goes, a lobby group can’t touch a pregnant teeny until they find she is using disability money to pay for an abortion. Well, they can and do anyway once God gets all involved and opinionated, but the point stands that they shouldn’t.
No?
Back in my day, and I’m only 25, we children didn’t need specialized counseling, paid in tax money, to teach us not to talk to strangers.
If you looked weird, we didn’t like you so we didn’t fucking talk to you.
This is simple.
But now you’ve got a perky social worker slash therapist teaching America’s children the fucking obvious? With gratuitous visuals and step-programs?
Costing you millions?
But that’s beside the point.
We were talking about a middle-classed Chia Pet that can’t even swallow its spit long enough to tell its sadistic parents to PLEASE kill it.
Its been fifteen years of this.
To these gossipy women, Michael Schiavo is a murderous villain but sane, loving people do NOT make their loved one’s life the prolonged torture of a social issue- only perky Easter-bunny people too busy holding vigils and hugging other perky morons can’t see the grotesque in being so “loving”.
If these two were my parents I’d run them over with a bulldozer and put them on a ventilator.
Something that is precious is valuable, and for it to be so valuable to strangers it must also be rare.
And human life, as anyone as suffocated as I by its overpopulated noise can also see, is not rare and therefore is not valuable.
Especially when its programmed to die with its intestine falling out from holes chewed away by age and disease, its not.
Its only the religious, the perky, The Deeply Concerned and the liberal neo-somethingite that will be throwing itself in the ring to heroically drag whatever’s dying back to senile life again.
For a bloody, overscocialized principle that all human life is precious.
Cripples were once hidden or shunned or thrown from the Palatine hill, and now they’re golden child Chiavettes.
I can understand a family member scouting for its welfare and using their own money in private, but John Tesh comparing Schiavo to Jesus considering this is Easter week?
Inform yourself*- in 2003 the federal Agency for Healthcare Research and Quality released a report stating that places like hospices and hospital wards- where those that should have died decades ago are being kept alive in- take up 22% of all medical costs; that’s almost a third of the nation’s total health care used up on Schiavettes.
Now add 25% of Medicaid and close to 20% of the rest in federal money, like SS disability.
Add it up, 22+ 25 + 20= 67% of your money being eaten up by aging blobs that can’t even swallow.
At least I learned something- how to spell Schiavo.
(*
http://www.qualitytools.ahrq.gov/
http://www.ahrq.gov/qual/nhqr03/nhqrsum03.htm
http://www.ahrq.gov/)
This planet is crowded with 6 billion some odd people, and 5 billion of them are the
underpaid such as myself that must live in sardine cans with thin walls.
Gossip might as well not be because no matter the number of cackling women and no matter what room you’re in you hear it all- a scintillating conversation covering shoes, boyfriends, pregnancy, 101 Ways To Make Baklava and cassoulet, pregnancy. Pregnancy. Pregnancy.
This is how I first heard of Schiavo. Months after the world learned how to even spell Schiavo or even knew what this smiling genius much looked like, news of it shot right through that paper thin wall in the form of self-righteous gossip…. and here I am writing about a woman that means shit to me because the Self-Righteous and Uninformed are two of my muses.
A little research tells me she was a lively girl and daughter who met her husband at community college and was his loving wife until her heart stopped and gave her a stroke in 1990. She’s been a vegetable since but her name has become a crusade that has made it all the way to the Vatican - not to mention that she’s inflamed school children with a penny-collecting hemorrhoid to pay for Schiavo’s Plight .
You punch in Shavo or Shndler by mistake, and Google corrects it for you.
All this for a woman that would otherwise have been remembered as a really good cook with, like, nice teeth.
And now, she’s got me writing about her.
I wonder if its just me that’s noticed the delicacy of Irony in this whole..thing?
She’s a bulimic.
And the debate is over starving someone.... that spent more than half her life starving herself?
Nonetheless, it was the marked opinion from a self-righteous cow in that living room- a Christian cow, mind you- that’s brought me to talk about a bed sore in purgatory named Terri Schiavo. Otherwise, I’d have left it alone.
This woman I refer to as Cow not only felt all human life was precious but the sound through the wall gave this image of a Holstein pursing its snout just like this *pucker* to quip, arms akimbo,
“Who do they think they are?! To put a price on human life like that! Human life. The government should have no say in whether I should live or die or anyone else or what we should do with it. Poor woman…..its all about money. Her parents love her, and that meany, meany husband of hers looks like a cereal killer. Oh, and abortion…”
Now, keep in mind that despite her oh so many faults, this cow is a productive, tax paying Cow and more than likely has used her city’s emergency services and health care waivers and her workplace is safe because its standardized according to regulations made possible with tax money. Even more likely than not, she has insurance policies on all her children, herself, and her husband.
Her paycheck, like yours, subsidizes the Social Security fund she will retire on years from now or use in case she too becomes the famous eggplant that Schiavo is.
Society, and by this we also mean Government, has long decided your life does have a price tag- getting well takes money and any insurance policy or waiver tells you every day that you agreed to put a bracket price on human life.
The mechanics of pure capitalism calls for a complete separation of state and economy- as we have it, even unpure, it still holds true that it is fundamentally a system of exchange.
It was never meant to be this pussywilled Daisyworld where billions are poured into the dead end of keeping a torso alive for so long because all its citizens are so scared and fragile and dumb that government-funded companies are set up to make sure the office paper doesn’t give your average yuppie a fucking paper cut.
Capitalism is at bottom a system of legitimate trade and, in theory, the closest thing to a meritocracy- socialism was supposed to be the food-source of terrified parasites, not this.
In capitalist logic, a creditor most certainly has a say on the decisions taken by its debtor as soon as those decisions influence that relation.
You and I are its debtors, and vise versa- we have as much right to vote and earn income as the government has as much right to at least have a say on whether it would agree to pay your $5000 a month hospice bill through Medicaid.
Techincally free.
So where abortion goes, a lobby group can’t touch a pregnant teeny until they find she is using disability money to pay for an abortion. Well, they can and do anyway once God gets all involved and opinionated, but the point stands that they shouldn’t.
No?
Back in my day, and I’m only 25, we children didn’t need specialized counseling, paid in tax money, to teach us not to talk to strangers.
If you looked weird, we didn’t like you so we didn’t fucking talk to you.
This is simple.
But now you’ve got a perky social worker slash therapist teaching America’s children the fucking obvious? With gratuitous visuals and step-programs?
Costing you millions?
But that’s beside the point.
We were talking about a middle-classed Chia Pet that can’t even swallow its spit long enough to tell its sadistic parents to PLEASE kill it.
Its been fifteen years of this.
To these gossipy women, Michael Schiavo is a murderous villain but sane, loving people do NOT make their loved one’s life the prolonged torture of a social issue- only perky Easter-bunny people too busy holding vigils and hugging other perky morons can’t see the grotesque in being so “loving”.
If these two were my parents I’d run them over with a bulldozer and put them on a ventilator.
Something that is precious is valuable, and for it to be so valuable to strangers it must also be rare.
And human life, as anyone as suffocated as I by its overpopulated noise can also see, is not rare and therefore is not valuable.
Especially when its programmed to die with its intestine falling out from holes chewed away by age and disease, its not.
Its only the religious, the perky, The Deeply Concerned and the liberal neo-somethingite that will be throwing itself in the ring to heroically drag whatever’s dying back to senile life again.
For a bloody, overscocialized principle that all human life is precious.
Cripples were once hidden or shunned or thrown from the Palatine hill, and now they’re golden child Chiavettes.
I can understand a family member scouting for its welfare and using their own money in private, but John Tesh comparing Schiavo to Jesus considering this is Easter week?
Inform yourself*- in 2003 the federal Agency for Healthcare Research and Quality released a report stating that places like hospices and hospital wards- where those that should have died decades ago are being kept alive in- take up 22% of all medical costs; that’s almost a third of the nation’s total health care used up on Schiavettes.
Now add 25% of Medicaid and close to 20% of the rest in federal money, like SS disability.
Add it up, 22+ 25 + 20= 67% of your money being eaten up by aging blobs that can’t even swallow.
At least I learned something- how to spell Schiavo.
(*
http://www.qualitytools.ahrq.gov/
http://www.ahrq.gov/qual/nhqr03/nhqrsum03.htm
http://www.ahrq.gov/)
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