upward of five hundred
dollars a day?"
Eisenberg winced. "That's, uh, more a question
for a hospital administrator than a doctor."
"But you're the one's been saying it here."
"Yes, well, you see, it's not really you who
pays for all that. The insurance companies do."
"Out of the goodness of their hearts, huh?"
"Well, no, no, of course not. From premiums they
collect and investments they make. But — "
"And who be paying those premiums, Jack?"
Del Wonsley said, "Right on."
Jurick said, "I wonder if we could have another
question? Yes?"
The black man shook his head in disgust as he sat
back down. Jurick's finger pointed to Walter Strock.
Strock rose, Kimberly watching him as if he were the
Hope diamond. "Two questions, if I may. First, for Professor
Andrus. Professor, earlier you referred to a constitutional 'right to
die'. Now, you'll certainly agree that the Supreme Court of the
United States in the Cruzan case established only that a patient has
the right to decline life-sustaining medical aid. I wonder, where in
the Constitution do you encounter the right to life — terminating
assisted suicide?"
Andrus spoke very evenly. "Our country was
founded on the principles of 'life, liberty, and the pursuit of
happiness? The right to liberty must include a right to die.
Otherwise, 'life' and 'the pursuit of happiness' would become
inconsistent concepts now that medical technology can, as I said
earlier, prolong a painful, hopeless 'life' without any possibility
of 'pursuing happiness'. "
"How imaginative of the Founding Fathers to
include all that."
Over the laughter his sarcasm triggered, Strock said,
"And my second question is for Dr. Eisenberg. In your remarks,
Doctor, you voiced concern over the situation in which you are asked
to terminate a patient who has become a burden on his family?"
"Yes?"
"I wonder, are you more concerned about
terminating a patient whose timely death might benefit his family?"
Alec Bacall said, "The pompous little shit."
Eisenberg sensed something, but I'm not sure he got
Strock's innuendo, because he just said, "Why, yes, of course."
Strock closed with a flourish and a smile. "Thank
you, Doctor. That's all I have."
As Olivia Jurick looked over the crowd, Gun got to
his feet.
"Hey, I got a question."
Jurick said, "If you could wait — "
"My question is how come you don't have somebody
who can talk for real Americans on this panel?"
Jurick said, "Sir, if you — "
The other skinheads prepared for protection as the
cops moved toward them.
Gun cranked it up. "How come we got to listen to
a shine, a kike, and probably a dyke did her own husband? How come
nobody talks about the race criminals in this country trying to
strangle it and strangle the people who built it. huh?"
The cops were trying to get to Gun, the rest of the
audience trying to retreat, but Rick and the other skinheads had
moved toward the aisle to act as a barrier. No weapons I could see.
Jurick said over the microphone, "Officers, if
you would please — "
"Fuck all, bitch, you got your goddamn nigger
cops and your goddamn kike judges, but you can't silence the real
Americans, and we're going to take back what we never should have
lost in the first place."
Two skinheads began scuffling with each cop but not
throwing any punches. The crowd got really nervous now and started
scrambling out of the confining rows and into the surging aisles.
I said to Bacall, "Save my seat, will you?"
Going over the tops of chairs, I grabbed Gun's right
ear, my fingers wrapping around the cartilage like a pistol grip. I
squeezed until he bent forward at the waist and started squeaking.
I yelled, "Enough."
There was a momentary pause in everything, a video
frame of uniforms and skinheads.
"Gun, tell your friends to let go of the cops."
Rick the skinhead said, "Shit, Gun, knock his
hand away."
I said, "He knocks my hand away, his ear comes
with it."
Gun squeaked some more. "Do it, Rick .... Let
them go."
Rick released the
dollars a day?"
Eisenberg winced. "That's, uh, more a question
for a hospital administrator than a doctor."
"But you're the one's been saying it here."
"Yes, well, you see, it's not really you who
pays for all that. The insurance companies do."
"Out of the goodness of their hearts, huh?"
"Well, no, no, of course not. From premiums they
collect and investments they make. But — "
"And who be paying those premiums, Jack?"
Del Wonsley said, "Right on."
Jurick said, "I wonder if we could have another
question? Yes?"
The black man shook his head in disgust as he sat
back down. Jurick's finger pointed to Walter Strock.
Strock rose, Kimberly watching him as if he were the
Hope diamond. "Two questions, if I may. First, for Professor
Andrus. Professor, earlier you referred to a constitutional 'right to
die'. Now, you'll certainly agree that the Supreme Court of the
United States in the Cruzan case established only that a patient has
the right to decline life-sustaining medical aid. I wonder, where in
the Constitution do you encounter the right to life — terminating
assisted suicide?"
Andrus spoke very evenly. "Our country was
founded on the principles of 'life, liberty, and the pursuit of
happiness? The right to liberty must include a right to die.
Otherwise, 'life' and 'the pursuit of happiness' would become
inconsistent concepts now that medical technology can, as I said
earlier, prolong a painful, hopeless 'life' without any possibility
of 'pursuing happiness'. "
"How imaginative of the Founding Fathers to
include all that."
Over the laughter his sarcasm triggered, Strock said,
"And my second question is for Dr. Eisenberg. In your remarks,
Doctor, you voiced concern over the situation in which you are asked
to terminate a patient who has become a burden on his family?"
"Yes?"
"I wonder, are you more concerned about
terminating a patient whose timely death might benefit his family?"
Alec Bacall said, "The pompous little shit."
Eisenberg sensed something, but I'm not sure he got
Strock's innuendo, because he just said, "Why, yes, of course."
Strock closed with a flourish and a smile. "Thank
you, Doctor. That's all I have."
As Olivia Jurick looked over the crowd, Gun got to
his feet.
"Hey, I got a question."
Jurick said, "If you could wait — "
"My question is how come you don't have somebody
who can talk for real Americans on this panel?"
Jurick said, "Sir, if you — "
The other skinheads prepared for protection as the
cops moved toward them.
Gun cranked it up. "How come we got to listen to
a shine, a kike, and probably a dyke did her own husband? How come
nobody talks about the race criminals in this country trying to
strangle it and strangle the people who built it. huh?"
The cops were trying to get to Gun, the rest of the
audience trying to retreat, but Rick and the other skinheads had
moved toward the aisle to act as a barrier. No weapons I could see.
Jurick said over the microphone, "Officers, if
you would please — "
"Fuck all, bitch, you got your goddamn nigger
cops and your goddamn kike judges, but you can't silence the real
Americans, and we're going to take back what we never should have
lost in the first place."
Two skinheads began scuffling with each cop but not
throwing any punches. The crowd got really nervous now and started
scrambling out of the confining rows and into the surging aisles.
I said to Bacall, "Save my seat, will you?"
Going over the tops of chairs, I grabbed Gun's right
ear, my fingers wrapping around the cartilage like a pistol grip. I
squeezed until he bent forward at the waist and started squeaking.
I yelled, "Enough."
There was a momentary pause in everything, a video
frame of uniforms and skinheads.
"Gun, tell your friends to let go of the cops."
Rick the skinhead said, "Shit, Gun, knock his
hand away."
I said, "He knocks my hand away, his ear comes
with it."
Gun squeaked some more. "Do it, Rick .... Let
them go."
Rick released the
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