No Right

"No, listen. There's nothing ideological about it. Really. Here's how it works. Everybody chips in to pay for it. Then everybody is protected. We do it that way because it would be too expensive for each person individually. That's just sense."

"Pah!" I scoffed. "It's socialism, that's what it is!"

"I don't know anything about this-ism and that-ism," he said. "It's just practical ... ism."

"Government interference!" I countered. "Sticking their noses in places they don't belong."

"Um, this seems like a very legitimate function of government to me," the dolt persisted. "And it's a very clear benefit to you."

"There is no right to this service!" I pointed out. "Not in the Constitution. Not anywhere."

"Well, I suppose not," he admitted, " but what are 'rights,' anyway? They're things people make up. When enough people think something is fair and, well, right, it becomes a 'right,' doesn't it? What makes freedom of religion a 'right?' A lot of places in the world, it isn't. Or freedom of speech. Or the right to bear arms. Why do you have a right to those, but not to this?"

I could see where this was going. "Don't even think about taking my guns!" I warned.

"I won't," he promised. "In fact, we can just leave them to burn with the building. We can talk about it on the way down the ladder. If you hurry, we can still save your house."

"Not at the expense of my freedom!" I cried, pushing away the fireman's pestilential ladder.

Damn socialists.