Personal responsibility is a canard usually spouted by the very same people who are least likely to want to take personal responsibility – those people who balk when politicians threaten to reduce middle-class welfare, those people for whom the phrase personal responsibility freezes at the tip of their tongue when their own child is caught bashing another, those people who whine about “nanny states” despite perpetrating the kind of behaviour that necessitates limiting civil liberties for the safety of others. Personal responsibility is a politer “bugger you, Jack, I’m all right”, and a far politer “fuck you, I got mine”.

“Personal responsibility” is tattooed, in Gothic font, on the neck of people who think that the Parable of the Good Samaritan ended in the Samaritan leaning from their pimped-up donkey, its rear plastered in the Biblical equivalent of ‘my family’ stick figures, to tell the traveller from Jerusalem that perhaps if he worked harder and weren’t so lazy he could have afforded a horse that could have outrun the thugs.

Rebecca on the Parable of the Mediocre Samaritan.

The whole article is railing against the concern trolling hypocrisy of the alt-med and “wellness” movements which, as an overweight woman with chronic pain,1 I can 100% get behind the sentiment of.

  1. Why yes, I have tried yoga. Also: fuck you! []