Going Backwoods

Recent actions by the US House of Representatives indicate that most Republican RepsĀ don’t think sick people should have the right to health insurance for all practical purposes. It seems as if they want us to go back to the old days, when if you were ill, you relied on a faith healer, traveling medicine man or backyard herbs for help. That may work well for rural people and churchgoers, but it’s not going to work for us city-dwelling heathens, is it?

When I was in my early twenties I had my first full time job, and at times I hated it so much I thought one day I was just going to lose my mind and quit. My active imagination then extrapolated what would happen next: I’d have no money for rent, and end up homeless, living in the woods. I bought a book called “Eat the Weeds” (or something like that) so I could prepare. (In fact, I managed to find a better job and never did end up homeless.)

I’m a big fan of being prepared. Maybe four years of Girl Scouts does that to you. Or maybe it’s being more “J” than “P” on the Myers-Briggs scale, Idunno. So I’m here to suggest to my fellow city-dwelling heathens that you get ready for a world with no health insurance, just in case. I mean, some alternative medicine folks claim that Essiac Tea, for example, is a better cure for cancer than chemo and radiation anyhow. What the hay, why not try it? The only thing you have to lose is your life, and just look at theĀ grand scheme of things: we are all on a giant, sloshy, melting rock hurtling through space along with a giant fireball that’s set to expand and fry the earth in 5 billion years. So hug your nearest sentient being and carry on like there’s no tomorrow.

Cattails! Supposedly edible. The same way corndogs are supposedly edible, I guess.