Or What, You'll Kill Me?

In 1994 I swallowed a piece of glass from a soda bottle. I was only 36. And having been screwed by two of the finest companies in the world, EDS and Northern Telecom, I had no insurance. The only thing I remember after agreeing to go the hospital was the doctor saying "If we don't get you on the operating table you'll be dead in an hour." I don't think I made it. Dead and in Hell. That has to be where I am. That must be the answer. Nothing, and I mean nothing, even comes close to being the way it was before I died. I've always suspected I didn't make it, but now I'm sure. I could take pretty much everything that has happened since 1994 with a grain of salt no matter how surreal or bizarre. That is until the events of the last week and a half. Now the rich are demanding a hand out from the poor. After having obtained obscene amounts of wealth by stealing from the poor, the rich, with a straight face mind you, are not asking but demanding an impossible hand out from the poor. They promise terrible things if we don't give them more money, as if terrible things are not already happening on a daily, now hourly basis. Take a moment to watch the beginning scene from HBO's "Deadwood". Fast forward to the 4:10 mark and watch from there. It's so apropos. NSFW