Bad Medicine

We have not, as yet, gotten our three precious sons (Jaden-Braden, Scramjett and LaJeff) vaccinated against the dreaded Mexican Swine InstaDeath Influenza. This is, I have been told, because I do not love my children and want them to die. If the State finds out they are unvaccinated and we took them to Costco and further still allowed them to partake of the free samples, I think the wife and I are looking at an airtight criminal negligence rap.

When they all came over sick after we got home, I thought for sure we were done for, but it turned out to be a false alarm. A mixture of acai juice, spiral-cut ham, smoked gouda, coconut-macadamia chewy granola bars, carob covered raisins (sugar free!) and pesto-parmesan flavored potato chips can effectively mirror the symptoms of swine flu, no matter how small the servings. A day or two with a rented steam cleaner and we were right as rain.

Right now, I'll be honest, the main reason we've been lax on the whole anti-death vaccine thing is out of laziness. But what if it wasn't just the fact that I'd rather catch up on back episodes of V? What if I didn't want to get the vaccines for my kids at all and thus avoid their implanation with the secret government-corporate identification and consumer habits tracking chip contained therein?

We know that mandatory health-care prescriptions are written into the Obama-Stalinist health care yoke, or as I call it, the Gulag-ing of America. If I decide I don't want my kids to be immune to the German measles and therefore automatically autistic, too fucking bad, it happens. Death panels, sterilization, steroid testing, human/hamster cross-breeding... read the bill, it's all in there and it's all Obama. Well, except the steroid thing, that was holdover from the Bush days.

But the rest of it, all Barack Hussein. And I don't like it. Not one bit. If I want to watch my child die a slow, burning, agonizing death from a disease that has been preventable since the Hoover administration, that should be my right as a parent. But no, Big Brother insists that my child live AND denies him the right to infect those around him with the disease of his choosing.

Less choice equals less freedom. Less freedom equals more communism. More communism means ladies in drab gray, functional clothing, modest haircuts and sensible shoes. Do you want that, America, or do you want Heidi Klum?

I want Heidi Klum. I mean really really, I do. Who's with me?