Welcome Back, Death Panels

I

t looks as though the Mad Tea Partiers are one step closer to getting their wish of bringing back the death panels that used to decide who got to live and who got thrown onto the trash heap in our economically backward but heavily-armed empire. I suppose the idea is that old bromide about how “God doesn’t make mistakes”; if you’re genetically predisposed to a death-dealing disorder you should simply accept your fate and die in agony, being glad that your death contributes a little more cash to fuel the gold-plated lifestyle of those born to wealth like the man-child-in-chief who has been put in charge of this particular loony-bin.

Take note—this particular party is being paid for in the blood of the innocent, and every representative who voted for this vile joke is complicit. Nor does the blood-guilt stop there. Every person who voted for one of these bloody-handed villains is likewise directly guilty; every death that results from this act (assuming that the Senate signs on and The Groper approves it) will be on their heads. It would serve them right if the terminally ill people whom they abandoned to death decide to take matters into their own hands and start dealing a little death themselves.