“On Euthanasia,” or “Another Reason Why I Think Pro-lifers Are Whacked”

NPR junkie that I am, I was listening to All Things Considered as I was driving home from work yesterday. They were doing a report on assisted suicide in Switzerland. Apparently, although assisted suicide isn’t legal in Switzerland, it’s “widely tolerated.” The only organization (non-profit, of course) which is willing to help foreigners die is located there–damn, but I’ve forgotten its name–and many terminally ill Europeans who don’t have any alternative are going to Switzerland in order to die. There’s even a movement in Switzerland to officially legalize assisted suicide.

I find it heartening that there’s a place in the world that is sane and sensible on the matter of euthanasia. Did I mention that Jack Kevorkian is my hero?

But then there’s the aggravating counterpoint, which is the pro-life contingency that’s trying to shut them down.

Damn, I just don’t get the pro-life thing at all.

LIFE in and of itself doesn’t matter. It’s the quality of life which should be the yardstick upon which ethics are measured. And with that quality of life issue comes the fundamental right of being able to choose whether or not to keep on living, or pick up the tab, tip the waiter, and check out. Suicide being a crime (or a sin–not a word I have much truck with, being an Atheist and all) is one of the most ridiculous, ghastly, and appalling things I can conceive of.

So, I guess I’m starting off the morning feeling pissy and ranty. Well, better than sick and exhausted, I guess.

Doldrums

I’m so tired. I don’t know why. I’ve had plenty of sleep, but I’m just utterly exhausted. When I sit still, I get a sensation in my stomach like I’m falling and there’s a faint lassitude in my arms and legs.

Blah. Maybe Hobkin gave me his cold?

Skunk sniffles and weekend update

Hobkin is snoggy. He’s got a runny nose and last night had a coughing fit while curled up on my lap. He didn’t even wake up for it. He was snoozing like a fuzzy lump one second, hacking and coughing the next, and then back to fuzzy lumphood when it was over. Obviously, a cold appears to be no biggie for him.

Weekend has been productive. I re-wrote a story I’d tabled last year. I’ve improved a lot as a writer since then. The thing was really clunky. I culled over 500 words from a 5000-word piece without even flinching. Sending it out after a final spit polish, although it’s not one of my stronger works, even re-written. It’s the principle of the matter, I guess.

Also, we downloaded a free trial version of Nero Burning ROM 5.5. Much rockitude. We might have to buy this. VCDs are happy goodness. We cleared off over 5 gigs on our hard drive by burning some of the various digital movies that’ve been cluttering up our drive and we can play them on the DVD player! Boing. And we picked up 100 CD-Rs at Best Buy for ten bucks (after rebate). Zounds. They’re just giving the things away these days, aren’t they?

AGH!!

Agh! I ran out of coffee at work! Calamity! Catastrophe! Not a good thing!

I might have to buy some of the vile sludge that comes out of the coffee machines in order to make it through the day.

In better news: it’s my short week. Three-day weekend, starting tomorrow. Woohoo!

Last night, Matthew and I ordered sushi delivery from the little place around the corner. These guys make the best vegetarian sushi. Shitaki maki, mmmm. But we made the mistake of putting the sushi out a minute before feeding Hobkin. He lunged for it. Matthew grabbed him. But apparently the aroma of wasabi and sesame rice was too much for Hobkin’s self control. (He is, after all, a small animal with a brain the size of a walnut.) He bit Matthew. So I grabbed him (Hobkin, not Matthew) and then Hobkin bit me. Ouch. Eventually, we managed to lure him into his area with a bowl of veggies and skunk chow (beans & rice, yogurt, healthy powder) but then had to tend our wounds before enjoying our dinner.

Wisdom of the hour: Be wary when trying to keep a sharp-toothed animal away from your sushi.

Hobkin was contrite about it later, when his belly was full of his dinner, and came up on the couch for snuggles after dessert.

Noooo!!

Gah! I can’t believe they’re doing it. They’re conference calling me in for a full day’s training session! I thought they’d send me the handouts and maybe a quick synopsis, but no, they’re actually calling me in for the whole day!

My ear’s going to fall off. Even with my handy dandy headset. It’s going to just drop off my head.

Sigh.

Withdrawal symptoms, dammit.

I’m debating whether or not I should re-read the Anita Blake series again. To, um, study Laurell K. Hamilton’s technique with actions scenes, and her, um, character development. Yeah.

Oh, who am I kidding with that blatant rationalization? Her books are vacuous, sexy soap opera violence with plenty of goth, BDSM, and erotica to keep it spicy. But damn, I’m so addicted to them. I’m weak. Help.