By David Jonas

As the baby-boomers near retirement, it becomes increasingly clear that our current Social Security system will not be able to support the elderly. To this I say: “Hooray!”, “It’s about fucking time!” and “Can I have their stuff when they die from malnutrition?” In their rush to kill the modern welfare state, the federal government forgot about the hefty checks they dole out to the wrinkly and sexually inactive. True, old people vote consistently and angrily, but this is just another aspect of democratic society that can be resolved with leadership, moxie, and mind-altering prescription drugs.

Unlike young people, the elderly have no future prospects of economic productivity. The only reason we put any money into little Billy’s upbringing and education is so he can one day work in a Public Relations firm, kill a person from 50 yards out with a high-powered rifle in some God-forsaken desert, or be employed in some other profession that will stimulate the economy.

In fact, every time a person over 65 years old dies, our nation’s Gross Domestic Product rises one-tenth of a percent, roughly 280 million dollars. Their medical treatment is expensive, their diets need constant monitoring, and for some reason, it is unethical to deny them wheelchairs when their legs cease functioning.

I hate to get preachy, but when you’ve lived longer than your ability to reproduce, you’re doing everyone a huge disservice. Remember, you can’t be persecuted for suicide if you’re successful the first time. The truth is, there is not one good reason why we should support the elderly outside that of compassion; and that’s a terrible reason to do anything. If I wanted my government to be compassionate to people, I’d have moved to Sweden and renamed my kids Matthias and GAFA¬nter.

Thankfully, we don’t have to sail to Scandinavia or give our kids embarrassing names in order to support the elderly and not come off as bleeding heart liberals. If I may be so bold, I would like to propose a nation-wide “zooification” program for the elderly.

For twenty bucks a pop, us normal people can stroll through finely tailored gardens, cotton candy and salted peanuts in hand, and laugh at the wonder of God’s most awkward creatures.

With a cavalcade of imported-Canadian drugs, our “prisoners” will think they’re spending a day at the beach, but really, we’ll be laughing at their hilarious antics! Naturally, we’ll have to set them in familiar ecosystem facsimiles: a homey den with a television, a scenic Southern porch, or, for the more adventurous, the dense jungle of Lai Rho Gon in Northern Vietnam (with scattered gun-fire and the severed limbs of fallen comrades constantly falling from the sky!).

And of course, when these brave souls meet their makers, their memories will be honored with the utmost respect and dignity as they are melted down and fed intravenously to the surviving elders. As you may recall, “The Matrix” pioneered this technique, but that happened in the future, so I don’t think we’ll run into any copyright troubles.

And while I will enjoy the spectacle as much as the next man, I will be even prouder for having found a method of employing the elderly that doesn’t involve organ harvesting (although…). And don’t worry about your beloved grandmothers and grandfathers. Putting them in zoos will probably force you to visit them more often; you know, to makee sure the zookeepers aren’t getting any funny ideas.