Survival of the Fittest

Before computers, before wireless communication, before multinational companies, before airplanes, before banks, before industry, before cross-Atlantic travel, and before a million other things that have been classified as 'progress', people used to understand that the sickly, the weak and the mentally disturbed were not meant to survive, and used to be not the least bit surprised when these people died young: simple survival of the fittest—even before Darwin coined the phrase, the lowliest peasant understood that most weak people were not supposed to die of old age.

Now, for some reason, in our disgustingly rich society, everyone needs to be 'saved'. If there is something seriously wrong with you, the government will take the money of those who are, in fact, of sound enough physical and mental health to make it in this world, and use it to fund a legion of health care workers trained to try (and often fail) to make you a contributing member of society (again).

LET THEM DIE. Their lives are not some holy thing—the earth is overpopulated as it is, and the weak will breed more weaklings, growing up to often lead unhappy and tormented lives.

LET THEM DIE. You're wasting time and money to provide false hope to those will not make it anyway, prolonging their torment and creating only more suffering.

LET THEM DIE. Especially the ones who beg for death. When they are looking down from a rooftop, yell out encouragements. Let your children watch and teach them that for some, life is far from paradise.

LET THEM DIE. Some people are simply not meant to survive.

Or at least, let me die. Government, if you are serious about helping the weakest among us, inject them with a fatal cocktail of beautiful, deadly juices if they so desire. Try it on me; I'll sign anything. You should consider me a godsend: I'll rid you of one of your more pesky citizens, who would never again become someone you would call a productive member of society anyway, and it would be a much cheaper alternative to any other scenario. Do you really want to end up paying me unemployment benefits for years, or sending shitloads of cash to the nuthouse or jail to keep me alive against my will? Quid pro quo: I will give you an easy way out if you will give me an easy way out.

But of course you won't, huh, government? I'm not even going to ask why. You will never run out of bullshit excuses anyway.