Now I know what the spoils of my payslip’s rape (i.e. income tax) contribute toward….
And I had to admit, I burst forth with laughter, particularly at the second ad!
Callous? Maybe, but the “victim” at the heart of this campaign just struck me as a pathetic specimen; not so much a human as an aggregate of rotting meat and bones, embracing Thanatos with legs wide open. Nothing screams pitiful louder than a terminal lung cancer case talking about buying a plot of burial land on national TV – after knowingly acting toward their own demise!
I also couldn’t help thinking how similar this line of campaign seems to the deathbed/death row-bound “sinner” who “finds God”, all the while hungering for some kind of absolution. Is this bitch hoping for a (posthumous) Nobel Prize too?
Seriously where does the NHS get off pushing these soon-to-be-cadavers in our faces; these cadavers huffing and wheezing at us to “give up”, acting as if they just discovered the elixir of death came in the shape of a packet of Benson & Hedges?
And all this orchestrated by the government’s own NHS – how sweet!
They really want to care for about cancer patients after all – never mind those occasional glitches in credibility…
Once again, it’s nice to know that the Powers that Be didn’t pilfer my earnings in vain – I guess I can count on them to give me good return on the off-chance I contract cancer, huh? (Lucifer forbid!)