Dead Reckoning in Uncharted Waters

I find myself pondering the total number of potential human beings who have never existed. Since the genus ‘Homo’ differentiated, how many egg-sperm combinations failed to manifest as a consequence of the many variables that impinge? Is it not certain that these: ‘The Unconceived’ far outnumber the conceived? What is their ‘state of non-existence’ that might be set against the existence of a living person for reference purposes? And is this state re-established after life ends? Is being dead identical to not having been alive? Occam’s Razor would be in no doubt; and I have heard nothing to the contrary – from either the unconceived or the dead.

I am, therefore, eternally puzzled at the resistance of ‘good folk’ to any suggestion that living individuals should have the right to convert to being dead at any time of their choosing. After all, in a manner of speaking, by far the majority of potential humans spend the whole of time in a state of quasi-deadness.

The unconceived get no say in their conversion to the cognizant, pain-aware, tooth-cleaning, pathogen-collecting, ageing, psychological travesty that we glibly call ‘life’. Indeed, many are condemned to life by lust driven, inebriated, careless lifers, with not a second thought as to the consequences of their viscerally programmed hedonism. No one in their right mind – a rarity among the living – would excuse this disastrous act by pretending they are triggering a life so that it may savour the joys of the modern, perverse, insane world! So how much denial of rationality is required to hold the view that, despite having had no vote at their beginning, it is fundamentally – nay Cosmically – wrong for any individual to decide to self-end?

In Britain we are a godless lot – by and large – and our Prime Ministers terminate Johnnie Foreigner, batchwise, at the drop of a bomb, without serious outcry. So it seems hardly likely that a religious taboo is in play. In any case, if life is God’s gift: should we annexe so much of it willy-nilly by the over-exercise of procreative loins, yet then feel inhibited from allowing self-termination? No – something weird is in play.

Perversity.

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