Lindsay Perigo
The Politically Incorrect Show - 20/12/1999
[Music - Die Fledermaus]
Good afternoon, Kaya Oraaa & welcome to the Politically Incorrect Show on the free speech network, Radio Pacific, for Monday December 20, proudly sponsored by Neanderton Nicotine Ltd., the show that says bugger the politicians & bureaucrats & all the other bossyboot busybodies who try to run our lives with our money; that stands tall for free enterprise, achievement, profit, & excellence, against the state-worshippers in our midst; that stands above all for the most sacred thing in the universe, the liberty of the human individual.
[Music up, music down!]
This time last week I went for a long-overdue medical check-up, prompted in part by the seeming epidemic of prostate cancer. My prostate, as it turns out, is quite unenlarged, thoroughly gorgeous - & cancer-free. Liver function is absolutely normal, in spite of, or perhaps because of, my fondness for grape juice of the red, fermented variety. My kidneys are models of kidneyness. My cholesterol is lower than I have any right to expect, being a rampant carnivore who would rather die than eat insipid vegetable matter that Nature intended for rabbits. The squiggles on my ECG printout are, while meaningless to me, most satisfactory to my doctor. I am apparently an immaculate specimen of perfect health, except for one thing: my blood pressure is lethally high. This time last week it was 230 over 130. There is one primary explanation for this: heredity. Chronic hypertension runs in the family. One of my grandfathers was done in by this "silent killer" at the age of 60. Thanks to the medication that I was immediately prescribed, my reading has fallen since last Monday, but thus far only marginally. It remains at a level where, in my doctor's words, I could "drop dead at the drop of a hat." That is why I was away all of last week - partly to avoid any adrenalin-producing calls from state-worshipping retards until the medication worked its magic, & partly to put my affairs in order & figure out funeral arrangements, just in case. I didn't do either of the latter, in the event, since I find such things - well, dead boring.
I am going for another check this afternoon. My doctor told me not to come here today, before he's given me the green light. But I thought, what the hell?! Last week my blood was made to boil by the doings of our new, viciously anti-freedom, born-again socialist regime - I may as well have it boil on air where I can let off steam than at home where I can't. The urgent renationalisation of accident insurance, reinstating a coercive government monopoly in this area; the urgent imposition of an envy tax on the successful; the prohibition of logging on the West Coast, in flagrant breach of contract; the mooted abandonment of the F16 contract; the proposed nationalisation of parenting to the point where even smacking is outlawed; the announcement that this new socialist regime wants local bodies to be even more powerful notwithstanding the unconscionable powers they already have under the RMA - all of this was quite sufficient to trigger a stroke, & I figured on air would be as good a place to have one as anywhere. Besides, a good death rattle could do wonders for the ratings.
Actually, I'm delighted that the new socialist regime is already behaving true to form. Before the election I said that the National Socialist regime should be thrown out at all costs, & that if we then got a more openly socialist dictatorship in the form of Alliance Retards & Hard Labour, the horror thereof might - MIGHT - be the one thing that could rouse the sheeple from their dumb, sub-human acquiescence to authoritarian governments.
But I'm not holding my breath, in case I have a stroke - & because my stronger suspicion is that the sheeple are, in truth, a lost cause.
Politically Incorrect Show, still beating the bastards back - 309 3099.
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