Many years ago Malcolm Muggeridge published a collection of essays called “Tread Softly for You Tread on My Jokes”. I still have a yellowing copy on my bookshelf. The title is inspired by a poem by W. B. Yeats and, as I recall, expressed Muggeridge’s frustration when he was editor of Punch at trying to out-parody a civilisation that had already become a parody of itself.
He could not have known that worse was to come.
Here is one of today’s headlines from the CBC who, it seems, are blissfully oblivious to its idiocy:
The pandemic is making it harder to deliver medically assisted death, doctors say
Some doctors say the pandemic is making it harder to provide medically assisted deaths to patients who request them, due to shortages of protective masks and gowns and last-minute scrambles to find places to perform the procedure.The pandemic also is being cited as the cause of a reported surge in public interest in assisted death.
Saw the headline at CBC and it made me sick. Bad enough to think this but to publicize it? When 99.9999 % of people are stressed about getting sick or dying themselves through no fault of their own, losing their job, home, savings, worried about aging relatives they can’t spend time with, or go to their funerals if they die? We should care if you can’t kill yourself right now? Seriously. You can still throw yourself out a window if you want. Be my guest.
The Palliative Remnant in the UK are transferring their patients to a safe space because “my times are in Thy Hand.” + Psalm 31:15a.
Why bother with masks and gowns if you are in the Physician assisted suicide business?
I don’t think anybody needs to worry. The abortion mills are at least as busy as they ever were – even expanding to online and telephone service – so likely any other bringers of death won’t be slowed from the swift completion of their appointed rounds.