It came as little surprise to me to hear of the extraction of a 63 stone tumour from a very poorly welfare state last week. For decades now, the patient has been gorging itself on every benefit it could lay it’s hands on, supplied by grinning “helpers” happy to feed the cuckoo in the nest in the hope that it would keep them employed and their pensions funded.
Ignore my cynicism – it’s just that the sight of a crew of 40 engineers being summoned to dismantle a house where the welfare state has installed a “client” is likely to raise the hair on my neck every time. A register existed for this poor child pretty much from the moment it existed. The mother was already known as a bloater, it was hardly likely that her offspring was going to be raised on nourishing fruit and vegetables. The mighty machine of Social Services, with its plethora of probes and reports was well aware of the child’s plight and managed to do the only thing it is actually capable of. Continue feeding the problem instead of solving the problem.
Up and down the land, vast outbreaks of taxpayer funded obesity are rife. I grew up in an age where poor people were thin because they had little to eat and worked hard. Any precious calories they consumed were put to work in a second job to keep the wolf from the door. Nowadays, the wolf is a council “officer” and arrives carrying a basket of benefits and “entitlements” that will ensure that whatever dreadful fate should befall the “client”, the officer will never be blamed for starvation – the holy welfare cup floweth over.
I am not a great fan of State intervention in the diets of citizens – in the absence of genuine famine, I prefer to let Darwin do what he does best and sort the wheat from the lard. If you want to gorge on chips three times a day, I won’t be forced to pay your pension or healthcare when your carcass collapses under the weight aged 25. What I refuse to be held accountable for is funding your destruction. A conspiracy of State agencies were responsible for the debacle of having to extract a child so huge, it could no longer walk from the interior of a house it was being paid not to leave. Not one gutless civil servant dared to simply declare that “fat” was being used to kill a child instead of a violent father, not one hairy lipped social worker had the courage to stop a dysfunctional mother shovelling yet more calories into the mouth of babes.
Children are whisked away by the authorities on the merest whim or rumour of “ill treatment”. Armies of social workers are on 24/7 alert and ready to condemn the slightest variation from the Glorious Hymn Sheet that we are all equal and all have equal rights and responsibilities, except of course, when it comes to stopping a mental fat woman feeding her fat child to death. To criticise that would open the can of worms that half the country is currently feeding it’s children to death and using the welfare state and endless handouts to do it.
It’s quite simple. If we don’t want to fund the early deaths of millions of our citizens, we are going to have to stop feeding them what is making them obese – any recipient of benefits that can eat itself to a weight of 63 stone, is receiving too much of a good thing – and what the emergency services who had to install a visual screen around the spectacle to stop the gazes of neighbours failed to appreciate is that it was indeed, in every sense of the word, a state sponsored freak show
