Before posting on a subject which is worthy of at least some discussion, before being cast into the cess-pool from which it has arisen, I thought I would lighten the atmosphere by posting a photo of what must be the most enchanting small child’s smile published this year.
A long-awaited bill being published by the former Lord Chancellor Lord Falconer has parallels with the 1967 Abortion Act by placing responsibility for authorising the action in the hands of two doctors.
legalise assisted dying
upholding the sanctity of human life without regard to suffering caused in the process
“ethical turning point”
be promoting anguish and pain, the very opposite of a Christian message of hope.”
the commandment “Thou shalt not kill” should not mean prolonging suffering.
in the face of the reality of needless suffering.”
In writing about this pernicious, dangerous and illiberal Assisted Dying Bill, I would attempt to explain my thoughts. The quotations, taken from people who support this Bill, do not state the truth about what is proposed. The Bill is written and introduced to change the Law. Ignore all the emotional rubbish held within those quotations, the supporters of this Bill want, wish and work towards one thing, and one thing only :-
I knew the girl I met was for me some ten seconds after we first saw each other, but, upon my return after my last trip to sea, I laid siege until she agreed to marry me. We were gloriously, blissfully happy, our family grew and blossomed; until I was finally made aware that my beloved wife was seriously ill, and I had to have her committed. My wife of now some forty-seven years has been suffering from the effects of schizophrenia for some forty-three of those years. For many years, after she was released to me from the mental hospital where she was treated, she was back to some 95-97.5% of the woman whom I fell in love with, all those years ago in one chance evening at the Empire Ballroom in Leicester Square; but things went downhill some ten or twelve-odd years ago.
She now sits upstairs on her bedside, anxiously awaiting my help for even the slightest move to swivel across to her commode. She depends upon me for everything, and I would be a strange caricature of a man if I ever deserted her. My philosophy of life is now, and has been for many years; ‘you play the hand you are dealt’, and this is what I do for the woman I love. But what might happen to my love if I should die before her? Being totally dependent upon others for everything, and I do mean everything; more than likely she would be headed straight for a care facility, would she not be a prime target for these do-gooders who believe firmly that they know what is best for one who cannot articulate her needs and wishes?
I once visited an old-aged people’s home/complex in Islington to help a mate of mine who was compiling an electrical tender document, and I will be honest when I state that I have never witnessed anything more dispiriting in my entire life. I entered the main room/hall of the home, and there must have been at least seventy or eighty elderly people seated there, but the strange thing was the fact that they were all seated at seventy or eighty different angles to one another; there were two televisions blaring away at opposite corners of the room, no-one was watching either, and this was the first time that I had ever witnessed what is called the ‘Thousand-mile-stare’, where the person’s eyes are focussed over a huge distance away. The staff could safely be described as uniformly useless, as I gathered when talking to the one helpful staff member, a maintenance bloke, who simply sniffed when asked his opinion of his fellow workers, then replied, ‘when they aren’t in ever-extended meetings discussing how much they would not be doing, they are forever looking after themselves; with not much time left for the poor sods in the armchairs and beds’! I spotted one lady, seated in a wheelchair, trapped in the space between a wall and a folding door. She had been left by the ‘caring’ staff member, and forgotten as breakfast had been served, and no-one missed her, until an outsider arrived and gently wheeled her out of her confinement. She was so pathetically grateful to me, a stranger for helping her. Needless to state, I made my own feelings pretty plain to the management, but I don’t believe that my anger even registered!
Reference is made in one of the earlier quotations to the Abortion Act of 1967. I would simply remind ATW readers that one of the ruling guidelines in 1967 was that two doctors should examine and confer with the pregnant woman before agreeing and signing to that abortion procedure. Those guidelines are now so loose that a NURSE can authorise an abortion. I would remind ATW readers that, in just four years, there have been 731801 babies, foetuses; call them what you will, killed quite legally in this so-called civilised country of ours! Just consider what a bunch of politicians and their fellow bottom-feeding compatriots could do once the Euthanasia Bill becomes Law?
The Assisted Dying Bill, which in reality should be renamed the ‘Euthanasia Bill’ or the even more explanatory The Inconvenience Bill’ or the ‘Let us get rid of the Old, the Ill, the Insane, the Sufferers from incurable and painful Diseases, those who alarm us by their very longevity, and the Memories of what faces us all Bill’ is a shameful and destructive piece of legislation, and we, along with the dangerous do-gooder Clowns who propose and back this tawdry attempt to change, by euphemism alone, the settled Law, should be ashamed that Legislation as bad, corrupt and disgraceful as this Bill undoubtedly is, even passes across the threshold of the House of Lords in these troubled times.