Is God Unemployed Now?

I ask because of a headline from the Independent this morning that I find stunning.

‘Brain damaged patient allowed to die with dignity’, Judge rules.

It is the way the article is worded that interests me – not that Doctors are to be prevented from officiously striving to keep someone alive – but that it takes a Judge to permit someone to die.

Regular readers are well aware of my interest in the Court of Protection, the Mental Capacity Act 2005 and related matters. I am not about to rehash them. I am asking whether in the intervening 7 years since that malicious piece of legislation came into being, we, and the media on our behalf, have become so inured of the idea that the judiciary have every right to decide whether we are born, and if we can die, that a headline stating that someone has been given ‘permission’ to die doesn’t raise any eyebrows.

We have heard over the past few years of sperm being taken from unconscious men, without their permission. Then when they are dead, the grieving widow being ‘given permission’ by the judiciary to instruct Doctors to impregnate them mechanically and produce a child into this world.  God’s traditional role – or ‘Fate’s’ if you prefer to reamin aloof from religion - in the matter of sexual congress and pregnancy being entirely superseded by a combination of the medical and the judicial. Families queue up to pray, not to an unknown entity, Fate if you like, that their loved ones might live or die, or that they might be blessed by child – but to an all too human entity called the Judiciary, from whom permission for all these matters now apparently emanates.

At the same time, no self respecting conspiracy theory is without its ‘unnamed’ member of the Royal family, a sprinkling of those same top judiciary and a couple of Chief Constables thrown in for good measure.  All suppressed from the innocent British public by the non-existant ‘D’ notices issued by those in power which are apparently able to transcend the global Internet borders and ensure that even bloggers in lawless Afghanistan tremble with fear at the thought of publicising the news that Muffin the Mule was only ever on television in order to lure innocent toddlers into a deadly paedophile ring. Paedophile rings which can only be comprised of Rothschilds, Jews, top Tories, senior judges, and those above the rank of Superintendant. This is apparently because we are in the European Union or something.

Since the ‘truth’ is self evident on the Internet, and known only to those who frequent forums in the early hours of the morning, I bow to their greater knowledge, and take it for granted that there are no paedophile rings comprised of lowly gas fitters, out of work electricians, and assorted junkies – they would be screaming for them to be unmasked as well if there were.

It logically follows therefore, that paedophilia is not evenly distributed throughout the British demographic, but is something which afflicts perfectly harmless policemen for instance, once they have been promoted to high office. Ditto the judiciary. Goes with the gold braid.

We have the perfect cure for our current troubles. Roll out the tumbrils – it’s called a revolution! Behead your boss, yeah, and his boss also, right to the very top. No more bosses. No more promotion. No one ever in charge, ever again. For the sake of the children. Take out the Bankers, and the politicians, and the senior judges, and Chief Constables; no more ‘judge led’ inquiries, all 13 million quids worth of them; no one to blame, no one to hide the truth from us; no more media moguls, or celebrity figures; nothing to frighten us ever again.

The children will be safe, Muffin the Mule’s reputation untarnished, and God can get back to his old job of deciding when we arrive or leave this world unhindered. He has been recused, this week’s buzz word, from these decisions long enough. Besides, he’s never been known to demand a bonus for merely doing his job.

It was a great system – when did we decide to abandon it?

©Ms Raccoon down-the-rabbit-hole.

Ms Raccoon lives in the Monbazillac area of South West France, renowned for its fine wines and gourmet food, so she frequently finds better things to do than sit in front of a computer all morning. She is liable to take off traveling at a moment's notice. Consequently this blog only gets updated these days when it is raining - and it doesn't rain very often round here...