Treat Me Like A Dog

For the past two years I have been contacting my state legislators about the Medical Aid in Dying bill proposed for New York state. And for the past two years I have not been able to get an answer from either one on where they stand and why.

Being in a rural, conservative part of New York, they both appear opposed. But neither has been willing to state the precise reason for the objections.

Which makes sense. Because there are no non-religious objections. The New York bill is modeled after the Oregon bill and New Jersey bill, which just passed. The Oregon law has been in place for about 20 years and has had no complaints about abuse. These bills do not force anyone or any institution from participating in end of life assistance. They are careful to allow anyone with an objection not to be required to take part in any end of life actions. They protect everyone.

So any objections are primarily religious. And the bill takes those into consideration.

When I think about this issue 4 names come to mind. Bill, Margaret,Lucy and Zoey.

Bill was my father-in-law. He served in WW2 in the British air force before the US entered the war. Once the US entered he was transferred to the US military. After the war he came home and built a house. He started a business selling eggs door-to-door. Yes the Egg man. Goo goo ga-choob. And he was successful and raised a family. He liked the nice glass of wine and a pipe full of cheap tobacco.

It was probably the wine and pipe smoking that lead to his cancer. I think it was throat or esophagus. At any rate, he couldn’t eat . He refused to go to a hospital because he did not want to be kept alive artificially. He slowly starved to death, his wife feeding him morphine to ease the pain.

The last time I saw him he looked like an Auschwitz prisoner. All skin and bones. He was so light we were able to carry him. Like a living skeleton. A man who had fought in a war to free the world from Nazis ended up looking like a victim of the Nazis.

Margaret was my sister-in-law. She was only about 62 when she passed away. Like my father-in-law she also had some type of throat cancer. Since she lived in California I did not see her at the very end. But she also insisted on dying at home. She also starved to death.

She was an active, healthy woman of Dutch heritage. She was an airline stewardess who flew international flights. She raised two great kids . She did everything right. She took care of my brother. She starved to death.

I don’t know if Bill would have taken advantage of a Medical Aid in Dying law. He had no choice. I do know that Margaret would have done so. She expressed that she wished she was back in her native Netherlands where aid in dying was legal. She had no choice.

Which brings me to Lucy and Zoey. Our two dogs. we had them since they were puppies and as they got older and more infirm it became obvious that it was cruel to allow them to live in pain. It would be unconscionable to allow them to suffer. Inhumane.

First Zoey, then a few years later Lucy had to be “put down”. Our local kindhearted vet came to the home. I petted Zoey as Christine administered a shot to put Zoey to sleep. The, after she was unconscious, another shot to stop her heart. I felt the life drain out of her as she slowly became dead weight. A humane death.  A death with dignity. A death without pain or suffering.

All I ask of the state of New York is this:

When my time comes, please “treat me like a dog.”

Home

https://www.nysenate.gov/senators/thomas-f-omara

https://nyassembly.gov/mem/Philip-A-Palmesano/

Trump’s Alternative Reality Explained

I saw Kelly Conway, Trump’s spokesperson ,  explain that she has a right to “alternative facts” if the actual facts are not suited to her story. Hey, this is America. When the facts are liberal what other choice does she have?

But as I examine the myriad of demonstrably false claims of her boss I am left wondering if he is, in fact (or, more precisely, in “alternative fact”) correct and honest in his  statements . Can one man deliver so much misinformation? Does he really have the IQ to make up all the stuff he makes up? Or does he really believe it?

Which brings me to Star Trek.

Anyone who has ever watched Star Trek or the many spin offs of Star Trek understands that we are not alone.  Spock (Mr, not Dr), would be the first to tell us that in addition to our own universe there are millions of parallel universes which also exist.  In space. And in time.

For those of you who  are ignorant of the realities of the hard science of fictional characters and preposterous ideas on TV shows, let me try to explain. Perhaps your puny human brains will be able to comprehend.

In the space-time continuum there are many points of overlap. As time and space bend (according to Einstein) there are points at which space and time meet and fold . Kind of like a bean burrito on a hot day in east LA.  It can get messy.

Where these folds occur there are sometimes breaks and openings or fissures in the space-time continuum. Again, according to Einstein (not Albert, but Juan Einstein who runs the taco stand on 112th Street), this is similar to what happens when the soft taco shell leaks. While the entire taco holds together, certain breaks in the tortilla allow beans, salsa, cheese and some other goo to leak through. This is nearly identical to  a fissure in the time-space continuum.

When that happens, in the universe or at a Mexican eatery, things get sloppy. Leakage occurs. Things spill over from one reality to another. It ain’t a pretty sight.

This explains Donald Trump. Every one of Donald Trump’s statements is factually correct and accurate. It is just that he (and many of the folks who followed him through the wormhole) are living in a parallel universe. They have seeped into our reality like the sloppy drippings of a three day old soft shell burrito.

In Universe Trump  the size of a crowd on a photo is inversely proportional to the actual number of people there. For example, in Universe Trump I have over 6 billion followers of my blog, rather than being limited to my wife and the neighbor’s cat. (Well, the cat skips a lot of them).

In Universe Trump millions of people vote illegally whereas in our universe, let’s call it the Real Universe, there is no voter fraud of any consequence. None. Zippo.

In Universe Trump Mexican people are lined up at the 2,000 mile border 8 deep while Obama border agents hand them $1000 bills and pull them over to our side. In the Real Universe, of course, deportations and border security are at an all-time high.

In Universe Trump there is chaos everywhere. Carnage in the streets.  Well, any streets that have not been destroyed by liberal policies.Carnage in our schools where kids learn nothing. Absolutely nothing.  (I guess in Trump’s Universe knowing nothing is a sign of an educated person). Carnage, carnage everywhere. What a mess.In the Real  Universe there are problems, but no bodies piled up by the thousands (except at anti-Trump rallies).

In Universe Trump our military is a bunch of worthless wimps, our factories have all closed and the planet is getting colder by the minute. Of course, in the Real Universe none of this is true.

So, to understand Trump you have to realize that somewhere in the space-time continuum he fell through a hole. (Or maybe pushed by someone on the other side. Barron? Ivanka? Melania?)There is a place in space where our universes meet, the Real one and the Trump one. Somewhere there is that fissure in the burrito.

How do we find it ? It would have be a place devoid of integrity. A place where conmen and the mob feel at home. A place where all hope, dignity and honesty  goes to die. Kind of like New Jersey but not quite as despicable.

So, what do we do? The Trump Universe has taken power in the Real Universe.Can we go  back in time and seal the fissure? Can the Real Universe overcome the Trump Universe and bring back Real Universe sanity. Can we build a time machine, maybe with illegal labor? Or will the Donald return to his own universe voluntarily, perhaps seeking a younger eastern European bride?

The solution is obvious. We need a transporter. (Do I have to explain? You know , it dissolves you and then sets you down someplace else). A transporter beam that we can use to beam back Trump to the universe from which he came. Transport him right through the fissure in the burrito.

Unless it is already too late.  By now those who he left behind may be worried that he will return. I expect they are already building  a wall.

 

 

 

Trump’s Loaves and Fishes

News (?) item: Donald Trump insists that “thousands ” of Muslims in New Jersey were celebrating the fall of the World Trade Center on 9/11. He insists and although there is no visual or written evidence of this…well…he insists.

A long time ago  a Jewish guy named Jesus Son of Joseph was making a big campaign speech on a hill. He had ’em in the palm of his hands. They were enthralled. He was beatituding the hell out of them. But then he realized that he forgot to call the caterer. The crowd was hungry.

One of his producers had some fish and loaves of bread. So, Jesus Son of Joseph took a couple fish and a couple loaves and did some magic. He blessed them and passed them out and told the crowd there was plenty to eat.

And they crowd ate it up. Jesus Son of Joseph, Jewish carpenter and magician, turned the tiny loaves and fish into enough food to feed the multitude. He transformed a few bits of food  into an enormous feast. His followers were satisfied.

Last week another Jewish magician, Donald Trump, did essentially the same thing.

A couple days after 9/11 it was reported that 5 people of “middle eastern” ancestry were taking pictures of the Twin Towers and shouting in a foreign language. In New Jersey.

The police investigated. They found 5 Israeli immigrants. (Jews look a lot like Arabs!) They had been taking pictures. No one really knows what they were saying. They were not dancing in the street. They were gaping at the site of the tallest buildings in the world come tumbling down. As we all did.

Donald Trump, the magician, has transformed these 5 Jewish loaves and fish into “thousands and thousands ” of Muslims. He transformed a handful of curious onlookers into a crowd of joyous haters. A mass conversion of Jews into Muslims. He multiplied  the 5 into thousands.

Trump  gave his crowd another serving of bigotry to eat. And his multitude was satisfied. They had seen a miracle.

Racist Mike Votes

I met Racist Mike this week.

I was visiting my daughter and her husband in their new (old) home in New Jersey…check that..New Joicy.

While  I was working on the back deck the neighbor, Racist Mike leaned over his deck and started a conversation. By the way, at the time of the conversation I had no  idea his  name was Racist Mike. Never met him before.

The conversation started innocuously enough. Talking about golf. I learned he was a great golfer in his youth. I am a hacker. If I lose fewer than three balls on the local 9 hole course I consider it a great round.  Mike used to shoot in the 60s. Till he hurt his back.

After golf I learned that Racist Mike grew up in this part of Jersey and had no desire to visit the Finger Lakes, where I live. No desire to see the world. No Marco Polo is Racist Mike. This area was all he needed to  see.  OK.  We can’t all strive to push the limits of adventure posed by the Garden State Parkway. God knows where it leads !

I  also learned (as you can guess, Racist Mike did most of the talking in this “conversation”)  that his old neighborhood,  just a few miles from here , was now overrun by the “Spanish”. Visions of Generalissimo Franco and his army trudging through Belleville flitted in my brain. Death to traitors. Tapas, anyone?

Then of course, we moved on to the “blacks”. The “blacks ” might be coming to Racist Mike’s neighborhood and he wasn’t thrilled. I am not sure if he knows any “blacks” but he has strong opinions about them.  Kind of how I feel about alien beings from Alph Centuari. Never met one, but I am pretty sure we wouldn’t get along. I wanted to suggest to him  any “blacks” who could afford a $ 400,000 home probably would not want him as a neighbor. But I didn’t.

Next up: Obama and the Ferguson , Missouri shooting. I learned that the police officer in Ferguson was attacked by the black thug and was forced to defend himself by pumping the guy full  of lead. And that Obama and that “black Attorney General” supported black thugs. (To his undying credit, Racist Mike does not use the “N” word. He is a real PC racist.) And, that, my friends , is why the  Democrats will never win another presidential election! You heard it here first, from Racist Mike.

Before I could respond and perhaps start a brawl in my daughter’s new neighborhood I heard a voice from inside the house. “Dad, I need your help here”. It was a way out and I took it. Once inside, my daughter said she didn’t need help but was just giving me an out from Racist Mike’s encyclopedia of ignorance. Thank you, sweetie.

I don’t know where Racist Mike gets his belief system. Probably a combination of growing up in “simpler times” and a steady diet of Rupert Murdoch and Rush Limbaugh. There is only so much room in the brain. Maybe the tolerant, smart stuff fell out.  Or , maybe it is just old age. He is 73.  Or maybe his contact with blacks has been limited to his Rap Music video collection. Hence the thug imagery. Whatever.

One thing for sure. Racist Mike votes. Racist Mike, and people like him , make sure they get registered and vote. They help determine who will be in Congress and who may be in the White House.  People like  Racist Mike form the base of the Tea Party, and now, the Republican Party. Something to think about.

Racist Mike votes. Do you ?