If President Obama were my personal “change agent”, he’d have announced that the National Guard would now recruit gynecologists to serve as abortion providers in those parts of America — which would be most parts of America — where domestic terrorism and religious extremists keep American women from accessing medical services which are not only legal but supported by the majority of Americans. And he’d add that the National Guard would also be protecting the facilities where those gynecologists worked, with the intention of prosecuting all lawbreakers to the full extent of the anti-terrorism statutes.
If President Obama were my own Magical Unity Pony, he’d give some version of the Healthy Babies Initiative speech I posted last night, while I was still teetering on the edge of full berserker mode.
Because yesterday, I wanted to visit
Terry RandallRandall Terry’s* house and break his lying jaw with an axe. I wanted to take the current spokesmonster of Operation Rescue and abandon him naked in the middle of Death Valley, where he could petition his god for a miracle to save his worthless hide. And I wanted to air-drop every single “choose life” protestor waggling fetus-pr0n and screaming abuse in front of reproductive clinics to the Afghan-Pakistani intertribal regions, where they could enjoy all the benefits of living under the Taliban authority they crave.
If I were granted one superpower, I’d have the ability to take all the “snowflake babies” and “pre-born” embryos and “womb babies” and implant them in the abdomens of every single anti-choice leader — men first. Sure, ectopic pregnancies are very rarely viable and almost inevitable damage the human carrier’s health, but hey! Most women (excuse me, baby-pods) survive the experience, and there are cases in the medical texts where abdominally-implanted fetuses actually lived long enough to require expensive neonatal services. Live your beliefs the hard way, Reverend Phelps! Who knows — maybe your Special Snowflake will turn out to be a healthy little blue-eyed blond angel! But of course, if it’s damaged or “ethnic” or just requires months of expensive medical intervention… well, don’t come whining to us taxpayers, looking for a handout. You should have known what you were getting into before you opened your
legs yap, you disgusting worthless parasite on the body public! (This is why my god has not granted me superpowers. For which I am duly grateful.)
Most of us, most of the time, manage to ignore the self-styled Pro-Life anti-abortion protestors, those draggled sadsacks yowling on streetcorners, waving rosaries and shoving their exploited offspring in front of the local news cameras. We have a vague idea that they’re well-meaning people expressing their civic opinions, like good citizens should, and besides, religious tolerance is a virtue even when those hiding behind the First Amendment are intolerant loons and borderline psychotics. And there probably are well-meaning decent Christian individuals at those anti-choice rallies — in my life, including the 12 years I spent in parochial schools, I’ve met at least a handful of people the Jesus Christ described in the New Testament would recognize as Christians, so I know the breed may be rare but it’s not mythical. But let’s be honest: Sturgeon’s Law posits that “90% of everything is crap“, and that law holds just as true for human motivations as it does for bad skiffy novels. I’ll be posting a Field Guide to Your Neighborhood Womb Bigots later, because the weasel-wording and mealy-mouthing about this is driving me fvcking mad.
*I plead lysdexia