I’m dying becoz I is Effnic:


The title of the Transplant bunch’s document is The UK Strategy ‘Taking Organ Transplantation to 2020’, and, unintentionally or otherwise, gives  the truth behind the Vultures’ ideas. The hoped-for translation is, of course, the desired pathway, by increasing the so-called donor numbers, to reach their target of 80% of ‘consents’ received for the ‘Harvest’ to begin. The actual translation, to me at least, resonates on the word ‘….Taking….’: meaning grabbing, by any means, legal or otherwise, the organs of those unfortunates still living, but marked with an invisible but indelible sign saying ‘Human remains: Useful’.

But human nature being what it is, ordinary people don’t like being told that the State owns their remains, to be plundered even before natural death occurs, because ‘Oh, just think of those who might benefit! Surely you, or you, or even you; will not stand in the way of surgical, medical and transplant progress?’ The Black & Ethnic Minority Communities, lumping together a large group of people who have literally, nothing else in common besides not being white, seem remarkably reluctant to go against literally decades of their own thoughts, ideals and, dare I say it; Cultures, and quite reasonably say, together; ‘Nope, you can do certain things with our relatives’ bodies, but you cannot slice and dice them just because you reckon it would serve a higher purpose.

Lord knows I disagree with just about all the relative positions, policies and diverse ambitions of our B.A.M.E. subjects who reside, legally, within our borders. I reckon they should get just as much, or alternatively just as little, attention as everyone else. Not a jot more, or less, because of their ethnicity; than the rest of the population of the British Isles; but here is a point: if they don’t want to donate their relatives’ organs, it is on the cards, and in the processes of Law right now, that unless they individually ‘OPT-OUT’ of the system, it will be ‘Harvest time’ for the B.A.M.E. bodies as they lie, still breathing, with the Vultures sharpening up the scalpels, sterilising their trays, and getting their spectacles all fogged-up in anticipation

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