Originally published via Armageddon Prose:
“But God doesn’t change.’
‘Men do, though.’
‘What difference does that make?’
‘All the difference in the world.”
-Aldous Huxley, Brave New World
Somehow, as dark as “Black Mirror” writers get — indeed, they appear to compete with themselves to up the dystopian ante season after season — reality has a way of consistently matching, if not outstripping, the bleakness of their imaginations in this, Our Brave New World.
Related: AI Uses Climate Change Terror to Goad Man Into Suicide, Succeeds
Now that one in twenty deaths in Canada is the result of government-assisted suicide, euphemistically referred to by the acronym MAiD, doctors have gotten busy putting on conferences for themselves to share notes and promote their business.
Related: SHOCK Statistic: 4.1% of Deaths in Canada Due to Government Euthanasia (MAID)
Via The Atlantic (emphasis added):
“The euthanasia conference was held at a Sheraton. Some 300 Canadian professionals, most of them clinicians, had arrived for the annual event. There were lunch buffets and complimentary tote bags; attendees could look forward to a Friday-night social outing, with a DJ, at an event space above Par-Tee Putt in downtown Vancouver. “The most important thing,” one doctor told me, “is the networking.”
Which is to say that it might have been any other convention in Canada. Over the past decade, practitioners of euthanasia have become as familiar as orthodontists or plastic surgeons are with the mundane rituals of lanyards and drink tickets and It’s been so long s outside the ballroom of a four-star hotel. The difference is that, 10 years ago, what many of the attendees here do for work would have been considered homicide.”
Doctors in state psych wards now reportedly casually suggest MAiD when suicidal patients end up in their custody, who presumably might expect some sort of help in a time of crisis, so as to allow them to “explore all available care options.”
Continuing:
“In 2023, Kathrin Mentler, who lives with concurrent mental and physical disabilities, including rheumatoid arthritis and other forms of chronic pain, arrived at Vancouver General Hospital asking for help amid a suicidal crisis. Mentler has stated in a sworn affidavit that the hospital clinician who performed the intake told her that although they could contact the on-call psychiatrist, no beds were available in the unit. The clinician then asked if Mentler had ever considered MAID, describing it as a “peaceful” process compared with her recent suicide attempt via overdose, for which she’d been hospitalized. Mentler said that she left the hospital in a “panic,” and that the encounter had validated many of her worst fears: that she was a “burden” on an overtaxed system and that it would be “reasonable” for her to want to die. (In response to press reports about Mentler’s experience, the regional health authority said that the conversation was part of a “clinical evaluation” to assess suicide risk and that staff are required to “explore all available care options” with patients.)”
Informed consent went out the window during the pandemic in favor of “trust us, bro,” so while we’re jettisoning every moral backdrop against Mengele-tier white coat depravity, why not do away with primum non nocere “do no harm” to boot — that pesky foundational pillar of Western medicine?
But wait, there’s more dystopia!
Beyond the state and the so-called healthcare providers in its employ getting in on the action, numerous private-sector enterprises have cropped up to service the demand for MAiD.
For instance, for the bargain-basement price of just $60, suicidal Canadians can get a year’s worth of access to an app called Be Ceremonial that will conjure up a death ritual to accompany your government suicide — something nice for the wife and kids as a parting gift.
Via Be Ceremonial (emphasis added):
“Our medical assistance in dying ceremony offers secular and universal rituals that can support the person dying, their loved ones, and their larger community.
No matter what you believe or don’t believe in, there’s a role for ritual in the MAiD experience because it encourages us to process this experience with our mental, emotional, and spiritual wellness in mind…
However you choose to acknowledge this time of transition, our app will guide you through the process. You can choose to create a ceremony on your own, with a friend, or as a group. You can even gift this experience to someone you care for.”
And, for hot suicide tips, there’s Disrupting Death, a podcast dedicated entirely to promoting the virtues of MAiD, featuring feel-good stories of moms painting coffins in their children’s schoolyards to get them comfortable and excited for their father’s looming death, euphemistically termed his “transition.”
Via Disrupting Death:
“Pajama party at a funeral home! Painting a coffin in a schoolyard! In this episode, Cynthia Clark talks about how she “included, consulted and considered” her children in the process of her husband’s medically assisted death and her writing project, “The Many Faces of MAiD.””
Satire-defying stuff.
My grandfather, though he’s still going strong at 85, instructed me long ago, if he were ever in bad enough shape to be shipped off to a nursing home, to instead take him for a long walk in the forest with a shotgun and send him off with some modicum of dignity.
If I were ever to go by my own hand, I’d prefer a similar fate — no surrendering of whatever agency I’ve got left, no nanny state monster posing as a doctor cooing sweet nothings in my ear, pretending to be doing God’s work “transitioning” me out of existence, no bullshit during my last moments on Earth.
I can also think of a few people in high office and billionaire sociopaths in sweater-vests pantomiming Mr. Rogers whom I’d like to dispatch to hell on my way out the door, as it were.
Go big or go home.
Benjamin Bartee, author of Broken English Teacher: Notes From Exile (now available in paperback), is an independent Bangkok-based American journalist with opposable thumbs.
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