Every day when I read the news I feel like I am under assault. The liberal media and Obama really are out to get me. Oh, I know they will laugh and call me paranoid. Because, of course, they don't even know my name. That is the horror of it. I am nothing but dust to be ground under their feet. I don't even count as a human being in their lexicon. They have arranged my life and the lives of millions of others like me as if we were nothing but a bunch of boxes in a warehouse. To be kept and used when useful and dumped when past our expiration date. We are not humans to them. We should have no more rights to make decisions about our lives than boxes in a warehouse do.
These are people who think that the strategy and tactics of the states described by George Orwell and Aldous Huxley in those author's anti-utopian fantasies are a guide to how states should work. Lie when telling the truth won't work. Call something by its exact opposite name. So "good death" becomes the new description for euthanasia which was a word invented to hide the murder of people who are a burden. Love and loyalty mean nothing to these people except as emotions to be used to control people. So women's choice is NEVER to have the baby. It must ALWAYS be exercised to kill the baby. And, oh by the way, it isn't a baby. That is far too human a word. It is fetus. Because, somehow, a fetus sounds less like a person who can breathe and see and feel and cry and, yes, smile.
So while they pursue their strategies my taxes go up and my income goes down and my pension stays the same. I have pretty much outlived my usefulness so I should plan on another couple of years before the state administers its good death to me in a comforting cocktail which will save Obamacare a lot of money.