A pen that does not write
Another of the funny folk left the building this weekend, with the passing of Gene Wilder. I always had the feeling that, as he played a role, he hoped the rest of us realized he was just playing.
How about the EpiPen story? No, you can’t write with one. All you can do is stab and live. Anyhow, the price suddenly jumped, what with monopoly as the rule of thumb, and a lot of people suddenly realized they couldn’t afford to get a new one, when the current one expired (they came with a use before date). Enough noise to push some people into talking about how the drug companies were out of control.
That aside, the manufacturer has decided to compete with their own product, by marketing a generic version at half the price. Same R&D cost (already paid by the public, decades ago). Same active ingredient (worth pennies on the dollar value). Rather, this is an attempt to divert attention. Without the marketing arm of the corporation to show “the truth”, many will be too afraid to spend less on a product they hope to never need. Perplexing.
I had great plans to prepare some burgers on the barbie, this afternoon, but the thunder chorus dissuaded me. Not sure how I’d feel, standing beside a steel bomb while shock and awe went on overhead. Decided not to gamble, and we went back to the usual “put them in the oven” method. Of course, now that supper is over, the threat of a storm has passed out to sea.
