13 Comments
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Dale Flowers's avatar

Suicide is self-murder, not just killing yourself. Laws permitting suicide are sure to morph into encouraging suicide. Who wants some progressive social worker or government bean counter overseeing suicides?

The Scuttlebutt's avatar

well hell, it's just the latest quackery for PTSD... You know what the "cure" was for it in the 50s and 60s? Frontal Lobotomy! I would rather be dead.

Dale Flowers's avatar

The social sciences can be akin to voodoo at times.

The Scuttlebutt's avatar

"at times?"

Dale Flowers's avatar

OK. Most of the time. I also get called out when I talk in absolutes.

Jordan Peterson, Fritz Perls, Thomas Szasz?

The Scuttlebutt's avatar

if it's not testable, repeatable, and verifiable, it's opinion.

OldNFO's avatar

My problem with it is that 'opinion' is making life or death decisions if this crap goes through...

The Scuttlebutt's avatar

Dale, opinions are fine, just as long as no one passes them off as science. Bringing up faith is fine, just as long as it's understood that your faith may not be mine. Faith is the ultimate opinion, completely unprovable except via ouroboros logic, and yet something that many if not most people base their entire behavior and world view around.

Back Porch Writer's avatar

Sadly, I'm never surprised by the folks pushing this trash "compassionate" self murder. How about developing better pain meds to undercut the reason for killing yourself? How about we, as a People, stop segregating the body from the spirit? How about we make self-murder a mandatory prescription for anyone in office, and their families, who votes for these travesties? Surely, if they believe that strongly, they should be the first ones partaking of it?

The Scuttlebutt's avatar

well, I would have to say that "it depends." Honestly, if I were diagnosed with some sort of horrible never get over, once the pain started getting too bad, I would want to chose my own time to punch out.

Likewise, I watched my grandmother die slowly over a year and a half, from a series of strokes that took her mind and memory away bit by bit, with brief moments of lucidity even to the very end. She would come to herself and realize that, as she said once, lying in bed, when she suddenly realized that her daughter was NOT her mother, "Oh my God Cora, I'm loosing my mind, aren't I?" while sobbing. And then she was gone again.

This is a fate I would not wish upon my worst enemy, and if it started to happen to me, rather than go out that way in a fucking nursing home, I would, if necessary, find a bridge abutment at 120 MPH. That or I would go find the top of my "this person would be much more useful as fertilizer" list, and end them, before dieing.