From the inimitable and often ingenious Harry Hutton:

Terri Schiavo is dead. In my opinion she should be frozen. Hundreds of years in the future, scientists will be able to make her walk around in short jerks using electric pulses.

Do you think that’s in poor taste? If it’s OK to use science to keep her going ping-ping-ping in a hospital, why not make her move around a bit while you’re at it? She won’t be present in either case, having died in 1990. This modern fad for trying to turn speechless vegetables into immortal vegetables, with the aid of technology, seems to me grotesque and blasphemous. If the brain is dead, that’s dead enough for me. Just how dead does one have to be to satisfy these people?

“The times have been, that, when the brains were out, the man would die, and there an end…” (Macbeth).

Those were the days. Now you’ll have packs of religious busybodies showing up to poke their long noses in. I would like to state now, for the record, that when my noggin finally packs up and Hutton the Cabbage is bleeping precariously on a respirator, you may feel free to unplug the thing. Or leave it on, I’m not that bothered. Have me stuffed, feed me to a pack of dingoes… I couldn’t give a toss; I won’t be there. All I ask is this: if anyone tries to read the Bible at me as I lie there drooling, please throw them out.

Remind me to visit Harry’s blog more often. It’s fantastic.