I scan the horizon from my Intensive Care watchtower monitoring the enemy. I see the glow of their campfires in the distance, their flags emblazoned with the silhouette of Darwin’s face relentlessly flapping in the breeze. I hear their battle cry, “Survival of the fittest!, Survival of the fittest!” echoing through the valley of death as they wait for an opportunity to attack. I inspect the battlefield looking for the weak, helpless, and unfit. The battle horn sounds. A woman is…..