NHS Drones To Replace Human Doctors
They're so cuddly, friendly, infinitely knowledgeable, provide that automated touch and promote the anus as a sex organ for tomorrow's parents. What's not to like?
Once upon a time, if feeling unwell, we would visit the local doctor’s surgery without prior appointment, wait patiently in the waiting room, read a book or magazine or chat to others in attendance. Today, it’s otherwise. Did you bang pots and pans for the NHS during covid1984? No, I bloody well did not.
Why are Arsenal FC and the NHS promoting sexual inclination? Why is anal sex now the new normal? A cynic might suspect it’s part of an agenda to eliminate general procreation among the masses in favour of some kind of laboratory grown baby production line. Why is the NHS aligned with the UK Space Agency? Why not focus on human well being, food, nutrition and even homeopathic medicine? Because money and corporate allopathic products currently rule the roost. All things change, so have faith it can change for the good.
About 22 minutes in the UK Column report on NHS drones:
https://www.ukcolumn.org/video/uk-column-news-23rd-february-2024
Building the NHS drone delivery network:
https://www.apian.aero/
Reference images…
This is the future of health? No. It’s ridiculous.
As a wag once said,
‘The artist must go very far, so that the ordinary man will go far enough. Arsenal!’
Yurtta Barış Dünyada Barış : Peace At Home, Peace İn The World… if only.
Previous:
https://nedpamphilon.substack.com/p/assange-rots-navalny-is-celebrated
Oh I am very familiar. Good for him. The verse lyric is a bit terse here & there, but the chorus is lovely.
They had LGBT pitch side adverting on Saturday. Arsenal have become woke HQ... very irritating.
One back from Thetford, home of Thomas Paine. Cheap & cheerful production recorded in a tiny church. My artwork. Do leave a comment. Kris is building his YouTube channel.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vTwosmKjgOA
Here is a song for you my friend.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wjCJv4W4kvw
As I walk these streets alone, through this borough I call home
Upon the baron fields of Highbury 'neath the stadiums of stone
Through the turnstiles at The Angel, see the homeless on the green
From The Cally to The Cross, and every shithole in between
Pass the church, the mosque, a crack den, and the offie on the corner
See the brasses from the brothel that pretends to be a sauna
Watch the bedlam in the bookies, see thе winners and the losers
Seeking solacе from their sorrows in the local battle cruisers
Through the madness in the market, weathered faces turn to greet ya
"Hello guvnor, how's your mother?"
"You alright son, be lucky, geeza"
Double pie and mash and liquor, a Cuppa Rosie Lee up chap
Or watch retired gangsters bicker, everyday in Arthur's cafe
The little fuckers causing trouble, for the cozzers make you smile
You meet ya muckers for a couple, forget your troubles for a while
From The Thornhill to The Hemmy, all the faces are the same
'Cause the manor might be changing, but the people still remain
North London forever
Whatever the weather
These streets are our own
And my heart will leave you never
My blood will forever
Run through the stone