The US medical system kills 2.25 million Americans per decade. (Dr. Barbara Starfield, “Is US health really the best in the world?”, Journal of the American Medical Association, July 26, 2000.)
Hear ye, hear ye and y’all and you and thou and everybody, we’re the medical cartel and we rule your lives, but we really care about you, we really do, we like you.
So here’s the deal, especially now that we have the glorious Affordable Care Act. During the course of your lives, we’ll diagnose you with 50 or 60 or 70 (we’re shooting for 100) disorders and diseases, most of which will be fake.
But you’ll get drugs! Everybody wants drugs, right? Who cares what they are, leave that to us. These drugs will create new symptoms, and when you come back to us, we’ll call those symptoms new diseases and disorders, give them hifalutin labels, and pass along more drugs as treatments.
And so forth and so on. Forget nutritional deficiencies, no such thing. Forget toxic environmental chemicals, never happened, they don’t exist.
From cradle to grave, you’ll march in a long gray line to our door, declining in health from year to year, and with the 60 or 70 or 100 vaccine shots thrown in there as well, your immune systems will deteriorate.
You’ll eventually end up in warehouses, uh nursing homes, and more or less hibernate your way into the grave. But you’ll live longer! That’s a real plus.
This whole program is meant to keep you from being able to think or protest or opt out of or rebel against the status quo. Which is beautiful, when you think about it, because the status quo is what maintains the peace. Soft lights, soft music, silence. Wonderful. Easy does it.
You see, in significant ways, the womb and the grave are similar. It’s that middle part, everything in between that can create bother, quirk, and weirdness. We smooth out those years.
We answer all your questions, particularly, “What is wrong with me?” People always ask that one, and we provide the answers. Diseases and disorders. We give them names. We fill in the blanks. No more need to wonder.
Just let us do our jobs. Those of you who won’t, we exile to the outer darkness—but let’s not focus on that. Let’s focus on Normal. Normal is you coming to us for updates on your condition.
We’re the pros. We’re highly trained. We feel your pain. We love you, as long as you’re sick. We collaborate with your meddling family members to make sure you know you’re sick.
Then everything is okay. You can wear each disease and disorder label proudly as a badge of honor. You can talk to friends and neighbors and compare badges. Face it…what else is there to talk about? The weather?We facilitate conversation throughout society. How’s your Bipolar? Not bad, how’s your son’s Social Anxiety Disorder, what drugs is he taking? And so on. Rich subjects to chat about.
You can pretend you’re educated in medical science. Be the first on your block to understand how viruses attach themselves to host cells in the body. Or hold forth on gene expression. You’ll be a winner in the one-upmanship sweepstakes.
During a fake pandemic, you can help spread worry, concern, and fear. We need “citizen experts.”
Have you noticed how many people are talking about artificial limbs and even organs these days? It’s the coming thing. You won’t need to qualify for replacements. Just volunteer.
And what about the brain? It’s filled with processing errors and prejudiced data. We can do better. And we will.
In 30 years or so, we’ll hook you up to a super-computer and wash away all your anxiety in a flood of Superior Understanding.
Disclaimer: All replicant organs and synthetic thoughts are subject to rejection and unforeseen internal complication.
Ask your doctor if everything we do and say is right for you. If he expresses doubts, immediately report him to the Department of Homeland Security.
There’s nothing worse than a dissident doctor. We train them to within an inch of their lives, but sometimes they sprout mental disorders.
By John Rapaport