I dedicate this humble offering to the memory of the late, revered savant, Lobsang Chipotle, who explained to me the eternal cycle of Samsura.  May he be blessed with eternal enlightenment.  But I am getting a little ahead of my story.  It begins with my 14th layoff and 27th rejection for health insurance...
    I must admit that, when my rejection letter from Profita Insurance arrived, I was getting rather used to the drill.  Nevertheless, I decided to call and ask for an explanation.  Or to vent, at least.
    The rather harried customer service representative who answered my call after only five menus, thirty-five menu choices, and three and a half hours was one of the more sympathetic people I had ever encountered in a position like hers.  Her telephone manner was musical.
    "Yeah, what?" she said.
    "Uh, I just received this rejection notice from your company," I began.
    "Which means what to me?  Yer a bad risk.  Get over it."
    "But I have this awful high blood pressure that wakes me up in a sweat in the middle of the night," I complained. "It feels like my heart is going to pop right out of my chest.  And no doctor will even see me without insurance."
    "Which illustrates my point," said the customer service rep. "What planet are you from?  You should know that health insurance is only for people who don't need it."
    "But what am I supposed to do?" I begged.
    "Ok, look," she said, softening a little, "I can put you in touch with someone who might be able to help.  He's a sort of monk."
    "A monk?" I asked skeptically. "Can he get me health insurance?"
    "No.  But he can help you have a philosophical attitude while you don't get it."

    Lobsang Chipotle wore a red robe and a beatific smile.  He sure didn't look like he needed health insurance.
    "How can I help you, my son?" he purred benevolently.
    "It's the damned - I mean, darned - health insurance!  Or lack of it!" I moaned. "Ever since I got laid off ... again!  And it keeps happening ..."  I began to sob.
    "Ah, yes, my son," crooned Lobsang knowingly. "It is Samsura."  
   "What is Samsura?" I asked the learned Lobsang.
    "Samsura is the Great Wheel of Health Insurance," he replied with tranquility.
    "Great Wheel ... ?" I prodded.
    "Yes, my son.  The Great, Eternal Wheel of Insurance and Uninsurance.  One day, you are prosperous and covered, the next you are laid off and uninsured.  The Great Cycle continues forever, until you discover the Secret for breaking it.  That is the way of the Universe.  Knowing the Secret is the way to Self-Actuarization."  Lobsang smiled beatifically.
    "I ... I ... want to break the cycle!" I pleaded. "What is the secret, O Enlightened One?"  I was starting to pick up Lobsang's habit of verbally capitalizing every other word.
    "The Secret," said Lobsang, "is the Four Noble Provisions."
    "And I suppose you're going to make me beg for those, too, huh?" I asked, a bit peevishly.
    "Of course," smiled Lobsang.  "These are the Four Noble Provisions:

        (1) Health Insurance is a Pain in the Ass
        (2) The Pain in the Ass has a source, which is Corporate Greed.  But forget about that!
        (3)  There is no end to Corporate Greed, for that is an Eternal Constant of the Universe, but there is a Clever Way around the Health Insurance agony
        (4)  The Clever Way is the Noble Eight-Fold Policy."

    "And what is the Noble Eight-Fold Policy?" I asked, fascinated.
    "This is it:

          (1)  Right Independent Wealth
          (2)  Right Class
          (3)  Right Family
          (4)  Right Friends
          (5)  Right Job
          (6)  Right Political Connections
          (7)  Right Ideology
          (8)  Right Jingoism.

The last couple help you get the Right Political Connections," he added parenthetically. "The further Right, the better."

    "Uh, well, ok, I guess," I muttered, looking for comprehension. "But what about people like me who don't have all the wealth and connections?  What about us?"
    Lobsang looked at me quizzically.  "What about you?" he echoed. "Nobody cares.  Nobody important, at least.  Get over it."
    That was when I killed him.