Now then...
Having last time waxed lyrical on the topic of food combinations I had to
think long and hard about what next to ruminate upon. After all what
could possibly be so weighty a subject that it could invoke the same primal
concern as the presence of Philadelphia’s chocolate and cheese spread.
I chose mortality.
I know, I know; not quite in the same ball park but I haven't really speaked
my brains about it so far.
A year or so ago I got into a discussion about theory versus actuality and
how it applies to real-life subject matters. Here in the UK at least one
is likely to be aware that the Coalition government (tell me that doesn't
outright sound like an oppressive title straight out of a speculative fiction
novel) is pushing for the retirement age to be pushed higher.
People are rightfully concerned about this, hopefully because the ConDem
crew are looking to put this in place whether the public wants it or not.
This however is not the topic at large here though. Beyond retirement
comes death, obviously. In a recent report on retirement it was noted
that many health experts are confident that more than a third of Britons today
are quite likely to live to be a hundred. Aside from wrecking the Queens
telegram writing hand this seems to be an area of more concern than it is cause
for celebration. For many individuals the thought of prolonging their
life is appealing even if all it means is that they'll have more time to put
off doing the things they say they want to do but never would get round to
doing given a THOUSAND year life expectancy.
To the world at large it means another mouth to feed whilst more and more
get manufactured in them womb things I've heard tell of.
This may seem enough of a leap as it is but more recently it has been said
that the first person to reach 150 is already alive and only a number of weeks
ago some scientist or other declared there may be a potential three hundred
year old knocking about!
Here in good old Blighty the average life expectancy rose from just over
seventy in 1960 to just over eighty in 2010. Now 'experts' are telling us
that the bucket kicking age is rising faster than we can actually age.
I'm of the impression that all these scientist and doctors and what-not need
to get together to decide how to move on with all this business. Many
deliver the news of elongated life spans with the same underlying dread as when
my old ma invites us round for Sunday dinner. To these white lab-coated
miscreants I say, 'if you don't think people should be living longer, stop
making it possible!'
Let's not forget that a longer life does not guarantee a good one.
After all, if you've basically spent your youth, young adulthood and middle-age
picking fluff out of your belly button, what makes you think you're going to achieve
more with varicos veins and an increasingly fickle bladder to deal with on
top?
