Whose Life Is It, A**hole?
Maybe I need to stop reading the paper today. And maybe I should rejoice in the fact that, even now, I can be surprised.
Apparently our Republican run government has decided that anyone's personal life is their business, and has denied Terri Schiavo's right to a peaceful, dignifed death by requesting her to testify, thereby evoking a statute that protects those called before Congress from harm.
This, penned by Senate Majority Leader Bill Frist, in cold-hearted mockery of his own oath as a physician.
I keep thinking, how bad could things get? How bad could they get? And now I have to worry that, in case something terrible were to happen to me, hit by a bus, whatever, and my faculties were killed, my senses shut, all but my physical life over, Toni's wishes to grant me an end to my misery could be NULLIFIED BY AN ORDER OF CONGRESS.
I feel ill. Literally ill.
Bush calls this a "culture of life" or something equally twisted. "Life" has so many meanings other than the presence of a pulse.
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