Hawking Up Hairballs

Monday, January 04, 2010

Lest I Needed More Proof

For a few hours there the other day, I thought that I might have been wrong. I thought that there just might be a God. And what would make me incline toward that conclusion? It was the news that Rush Limbaugh had been taken to the hospital with chest pains, and that he was listed in serious condition. When I read that on the internet, I slid on out of my chair, and to my knees. I put my hands together, looked skyward, and I prayed. Yes, I did. I actually prayed. Please, please, God, cast him down into the perdition that he deserves, and without a supply of oxycontin to get him through.

I should have known better. No one was there at the hospital to drive a stake through his black, black heart, and the darker spirits stirred themselves to help him rally. The next thing I knew, the news was that he was resting comfortably. They didn't know what had caused his chest pains, perhaps the spasming of an artery. Or, perhaps the bitter bile that flows through his veins in place of blood.

Not long after, there was Limbaugh, standing before a microphone after being released from the hospital. He was proclaiming that he could say from personal experience that there is nothing wrong with the healthcare system. What can one say in response to that? Of course, there isn't, not if you're a man of Limbaugh's means. He undoubtedly has one of those boutique medical insurance policies that guarantees first-class service.

That's one of the truly sad things about life. There is no justice in the world, nor can one expect it in some hereafter. The bastards prevail, and the masses suffer.


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