The health care debate is making me sick.
America’s brightest and best, America’s biggest and loudest, America’s most powerful and Americans with nothing but a Magic Marker and some poster board are all forecasting like Clytemnestra the perils of doing either this or that or nothing at all to fix or not to fix America’s health care system which either is or isn’t broken depending who you choose to listen to.
Choice is important, right?
“You want to be able to choose your own doctor.”
“You can now. You won’t ever in the future.”
“Not true,” shouts someone from the front row.
“Is so,” hollers someone from the 3rd row.
“Shut up, pig!” from the 8th.
“Close it you communist!” from way in the back.
Applause and boos.
“Nurse, nurse my head is throbbing! Please, can you help me?”
Yes, the health care debate is making me sick. Very sick…in the head.
Clytemnestra, you know, had a throbbing head too but, she had some pretty good reasons.
Murder, rape, incest, infidelity…being hatched from the same egg as Helen of Troy.
Reasons that possibly explain why she hatched a batch of her own prophesies (which nobody believed either) and also reasons that help us understand a bit why she murdered the man who killed her daughter Iphigenia.
If only today it were so easy and we could just pick up a dagger and cut everything out of our life that is hurting us.
Yes, Clytemnestra was totally insane and ready to kill.
I’d start with the Speaker of the House.
“Nurse, please. I’ve been waiting. Give me something, anything for my aching head!”
She won’t like it one bit but indeed her own insane accusations “You’re un-American” didn’t help the health care debate at all and, add to that, she’s only got a 13.65% approval rating.
What gives? With an 86.35% disapproval rating somehow she manages to maintain her chokehold on Congress and the country?
“Nurse, please my head, my head!”
8.635 out of 10 people in the country simply must include a lot of very reasonable people in both political parties. And, since her 13.65% of very loud and weird supporters make Presidents who are afraid of not getting re-elected make some not-so-very-good decisions, why don’t we all just hold hands, pick up our daggers and get rid of her?
“She’s like okra on a dinner plate, let’s get rid of her” I repeat a bit too loudly to my nurse who exchanges a knowing glance with my intern.
Saddam Hussein still has a higher approval rating, I am now careful not to say aloud.
Who else do I want to get rid of her, I, instead, whisper to myself.
Sorry, Karl. I actually really like you especially for pointing out today that of those 46 million uninsured:
“9.7 million are not U.S. citizens; 17.6 million have annual incomes of more than $50,000; and 14 million already qualify for Medicaid or other programs. That leaves less than five million people truly uncovered out of a population of 307 million.”
But, somehow I don’t think you’re helping me join hands with my liberal friends to help me get rid of Nancy even though I know that you want it to happen, so you’ve got to go.
My intern has left the room and my nurse is now unwrapping something.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“Something to make you feel better.” she answers with compassion in her voice making me believe health care in America isn’t really all that bad.
Sorry, Mike and I never really liked you, that much, is true. However obesity is a disease which you ought to take care of on your own, so you should just shut up.
Rush, hold on here. I really do like you and you’ve got a lot of good points to make but nobody here is as bad as you are bad at the dinner table and, like Mike, you’ve got your own health bug-a-boos plus every time you just seem to make my friends foam at the mouth and I’ve noticed that my foaming friends won’t ever cooperate with me on anything so…
“Yes, nurse. I am feeling better.”
“Yes, nurse. I am feeling much better now. It’s all madness, don’t you think?”
“Everything will be fine now,” she reassures me.
Yes, yes things are looking opiate.
I mean, up.
That’s from the Greek opion, diminutive of opos, vegetable juice, okra isn’t it?
I meant opine.
Yes, your opinion pleases me.
Not so fast, please…please I’ll opiate that tomorrow or…