Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored!" I'm not alone here today. I've got seven bored gods giving me sound advice on my declining years. These are very ancient deities. Sometimes, though, you've got to get back to your deep origins to help you plan for the future to come.
This is one of those times.
The deities with me today have eaten a whole box of chocolate while I've explained to them the ins and outs of social security, vested pension benefits, and Roth IRAs. Then I explained how the sitting governor in my state isn't contributing the legal amount to the public employee pension fund. Then I explained how the stock market works. Then I showed some Congressmen predicting that social security will be gone just about at the moment I'll need it. Then I told them how Mr. J's pension fund is predicted to run completely dry before he is old enough to die.
The ancient deities then explained how it worked for Their praise and worship teams.
When you can't work any longer, you go out into the woods and starve to death. You remove yourself as a burden to the society, and in doing so, you please the Gods.
I pointed out to them that I'm pretty much a woos about suffering and death. They would have none of it. If I'm not productive, I've got to remove myself from society. They kindly pointed out that we all die, and these social safety nets could pass like a whisper of wind.
By golly, as advice from the bored gods goes, this seems spot on. Can't pay for bread? Don't eat any.
The best news is that I have a decade, maybe two, of productive ability ahead of me. Surely in that time I will overcome my aversion to hunger and hypothermia. Surely I'll see that the most holy death is that which feeds the buzzards ... a skinny snack, but a snack nonetheless.
I like this group of bored gods. No nonsense about them. No mercy. You should hear what they think I ought to do to the standing governor.