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Arthur Alpert: Love of money is poisoning humane health care

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An innocent draftee back in the day, I was shocked by the Army's foul mouth but quickly learned to hide behind curses.

That four-letter word with which the vice president is familiar? I brandished it like a sword, wielding verb, noun, adjective and adverb with panache.

So I'm not a prude. I am, however, fed up with vulgarity.

What set me off is the new comedy "Knocked Up." Underneath its superficial vulgarity beats a heart of pure crudity.

Plot: Slacker protagonist meets babe in singles bar. She gets blotto. They - well, see the title. Amidst this coarseness, we're cued to admire her, because she's a rising reporter for the E! network. Huh? That cable network retails celebrity trash. We're cued to root for him because he gets a job. Whoopee.

The direction is equally crude, with sex scenes so devoid of feeling as to make the act unappealing. Well, almost.

That critics and audiences adored "Knocked Up" tells me its coarseness is the norm; thus, it fits neatly into our debased culture.

Television parades low-lifes, violence and dysfunction. Governments use the advertising tools of fear and greed to sell deadly snake oil. And the press neglects its Constitutional role to dote on Paris, Paula and Posh. Our culture tears us down.

We are complex, dynamic creatures capable of wonders as well as waste, maybe even of self-government. Our money culture, however, wants materialistic zombies plodding to the Mall, grunting assent to Mad Leaders. (Note to myself: Reread "1984" and "Brave New World".)

Citizens once, we have been demoted to consumers. Inescapable advertising defines the pursuit of happiness as super-sizing our vehicles, TV screens and houses. Yea, verily - the iPhone will display the very meaning of life.

Once we belonged to each other in communities. Now, we're alone. Libertarians preach the Gospel from (subsidized) pulpits: Every individual for himself in the (fictional) free market. Survive that jungle, and discretionary income is your reward. Thus (they say) spake the prophet Adam Smith: "Blessed be productivity. All else is blasphemy."

Indecency. Obscenity, The jungle. They so aptly describe our health care system that another movie, Michael Moore's instructive, imperfect "Sicko" comes to mind. It shows how profit-driven medicine trashes the uninsured, abuses many insured and spends billions so Americans can enjoy poorer health than foreigners.

Me, I would have focused on the indignity. In 10 years, my HMO has demoted me from patient to client to customer. Next, unless I escape, will be "cipher."

And I'm lucky. One in five New Mexicans lacks insurance. The state hired experts to cost out five reform models. Projections are iffy, certainly, but they calculate that a single-payer system could cover everybody with fewer dollars than the alternatives.

Don't hold your breath.

Because single-payer would marginalize private insurance, that business will defend itself. Gov. Bill Richardson stands with it, just maybe because it reward its friends and punishes enemies.

Only one (peripheral) presidential candidate favors government insuring everybody's health, despite polls that show most Americans want it. How come? The industry shot down Hillary Clinton's plan, which merely regulated private insurers. Imagine how quickly it would Swift Boat a single-payer plan. Socialized medicine, you know.

So where are we?

Humane health care knocked down by corporate dollars. Society "Knocked Up" by rampant vulgarity, which earns dollars. And we shop till we drop dollars. Ka-ching! We have convergence - the Almighty Buck rules all. Now that's vulgarity.

Alpert is a semi-retired newsman in Albuquerque. Reach him at ArthurAlpert@swcp.com. His column appears the fourth Wednesday of the month.