Fun Subjects: Rape, Incest, and The Master Race (The Culture of Death, Part 2)

Warning: Foul Language Ahead

Any time you talk to anyone about abortion, unless they are one of those soul-less “free abortions for everyone!” people, you will always come back around to this pro choice question:

“What about in cases of rape and incest?”

This is a valid question.  There are no easy answers.  Both rape and incest are unimaginable crimes, arguably the worst things that can happen to a woman (or child.) Imagine getting pregnant from such a violent act.  It is almost unthinkable.

What I don’t understand is how an act of murder somehow makes this unthinkable crime more tolerable.

I’ve never been raped, or been the victim of incest.  I haven’t walked in those shoes, so all of my opinions are based on suppositions, and on what my conscience and common sense tell me. If a child is conceived in rape, or incest, that is a horrible thing.  But it isn’t that baby’s fault. It’s almost like the pro choice people are somehow suggesting that by ridding the victim of the baby, the act can somehow be forgotten, or lessened.  How is that possible?

On an even darker end of the spectrum, pro choice advocates love to use the rape and incest argument to push a pro choice agenda, when in fact these abortions make up less than 1% of the abortions that happen in this country every year.  If that isn’t exploitation of a victim, I don’t know what is.

People have asked me, what if your daughter (who is severely disabled) were molested and became pregnant? My answer to that is I would be distraught.  I cannot predict what my husband would do.  I’m sure it would make the world news.  I can tell you this: that hypothetical child in my daughters womb is half of my daughter, and my heart will not let me destroy that.

That takes me along to a different subject. This is where the foul language comes in.

Over the past few months, imbedded in the abortion debate, I have seen some discussion about disabled kids, sometimes referred to as “profoundly” disabled children.  I’ve seen discussion about what a burden these kids are on their families when they aren’t cute little kids any more.  You know, when they get heavy and not as cute and they still need diapers and all that.  When society isn’t as anxious to parade them across TV.

A good example of this is Iceland.  They have almost no babies born with Down Syndrome! Amazing! They’ve found a prevention for Down Syndrome!

Wrong! They just abort the babies that have it! So, in short, it’s like the Nazi’s declaring, “Hey! No Jews live in Germany!”

No shit.

When I was pregnant with Evelyn, we had to go see a “specialist.” She was causing all kinds of problems in my womb–not moving enough, not processing the amniotic fluid like she was supposed to, you name it–and we had to have a more intensive ultrasound (this was before the whole 4D ultrasound thing) and have an amniocentesis. Early in my pregnancy, I had elected not to have an AVP screen, which supposedly can warn you that your child has Down Syndrome or some other horrifying disability.

Long story short, the specialist scolded me for not having this test.  If the test comes up positive, they recommend further testing, aka amniocentesis, to provide a more exact diagnosis. Fine. But what he said next shifted my entire world right on its axis.  He said, “no one is obligated to raise a child with a profound disability.”

Isn’t it a shame how you can never think of the right comeback when you are right there in that moment? It always hits you later.  What I did at that moment was stare at him blankly and try to put my brain and my heart back in their respective positions.

What I wish I would have said is, “Yes, you fucking prick, we are obligated to raise and love and care for whatever child is born to us!”

We’ve reached a place where we can abort because it’s a girl or a boy when we wanted the other.  Or maybe we can keep those pesky Down Syndrome babies from sullying the general statistics of our extremely white, extremely blond population.

Guess what else? Now old people are on the chopping block.  Oh, and very very sick people.  Are they a burden? Let’s convince them that they are better off dead, that they deserve to “die with dignity,” and then rid ourselves of the inconvenience they pose to us.

It’s sickening.  It’s heart breaking and soul crushing.  And it’s perfectly acceptable. In fact, it’s more acceptable to defend “a woman’s rights” than to defend human life. As I’ve said before, if you are against abortion, you hate women.  You don’t think woman should have healthcare or rights.  It’s all very cleverly worded by some deeply sick individuals, and a large population has swallowed it, hook, line, and sinker.

I don’t hate women.  I don’t think victims of rape or incest should be cast aside.  It isn’t mutually exclusive–quite the opposite.  Compassion and love should extend to all.  Why can’t we see that?

Why?


 

 

 

Welcome to the Culture of Death (no guns allowed)

One of the reasons I’ve stepped away from my blogging a little is because the political climate over the last two years has been, well, exhausting.

In trying to deal with my increasing anxiety and a possible excessive use of alcohol to calm my nerves, I’ve cut myself off from people quite a bit.  Let’s be honest: social interactions are hard.  You can’t talk to anyone without eventually coming upon some subject that is unpleasant to talk about and causes people to argue.  I had reached the point where I was literally too emotionally exhausted to have these arguments with people.  Have you ever convinced someone to see things your way by arguing with them? Well? Have you?  I’ll wait while you think about it.

[insert Jeopardy music]

I’m going to make an assumption here that none of you (and certainly not me) have ever changed someone’s point of view by arguing with them.

Then, of course, there’s an entirely different population of people who it is almost physically painful to argue with. (I’m looking at you, anti-vaxers.)

If all of your arguing was done with stupid people, I think we’d all be a lot happier.  However, that isn’t the case.  There are highly intelligent, compassionate people out there in the world who completely have their head up their collective ass.  You might think this statement suggests that I think everything I believe is right and everyone who disagrees with me is wrong.

Of course that’s what I believe.  Duh.

Anyway, I said all that to preface the fact that I’ve basically sat on my hands for long enough.  Some things are worthy of argument, and if human life isn’t one of those things, then I don’t know what is.

 

After any mass shooting event, a gun debate breaks out.  This is irrationally fueled from both sides of the fence.  Some want all guns banned; others are preparing for the government to knock down their doors and disarm them. (Outta my cold dead hands, right?) It’s a passionate debate. Our natural response to any sort of tragedy, especially when it involves children, is to find someone, or some thing, to blame. Video games, Marilyn Manson music, violent movies, and of course, guns.

No one ever, ever, looks beyond direct causation.  That shooter played violent video games and so they acted out what they saw. Or Marilyn Manson told them to do it. No one wants to talk about the fact that the last couple of generations in this country have been raised, since the day they born, in a culture that minimizes the value of human life.

There’s a whole other blog post involved in talking about accountability and responsibility, and how feminism has kindly removed any and all of both of those things from the shoulders of the males involved in the whole procreation process, but I won’t get into that now.  I won’t talk about how we are all so wrapped up in how we feel, let’s talk about how we feel, that we can’t focus on anything except how something makes us feel. It’s all about us, it’s all about me, me, ME.

Like I said, I’m not going to talk about that, except to reference the fact that most of the people alive in this country today have no idea, and certainly they don’t care, how anyone else may feel, or what the consequences of our actions may be.  If someone makes us feel bad, well, we can just shoot them.  We can kill them, and then the media, social and otherwise, can explode with how guns should be banned and mental health needs to be addressed.

I’ll give you that one.  Mental health does need to be addressed, but not just for the kid who shoots up his high school.  We all need to step back and take a look at our priorities.

If you don’t know where I’ve been going with this, then I’m sorry.  We’ve arrived.

The value of human life in this country is approximately (and I’m just guessing here) dick. Abortion on demand–that’s what they want.  If you are pro life, you must be a conservative Christian who thinks woman shouldn’t vote.  You hate women.  You are waging a war on women.

Let me be clear.  The only war I see going on is the war against the unborn babies in this country, and around the world. We don’t eat meat, we hate guns, but having an abortion is just okey dokey.  If you are against abortion, you are against women.

It’s not that you value life or anything.  It’s not that you see the wholesale elective destruction of human life as a bad thing.  It’s that you hate women. It’s that you want to tell women what to do.  It’s that you want to be in a woman’s uterus, and take her rights away.

You cannot expect teenagers, or anyone, to feel guilty about the taking of a human life, when half the country thinks it’s a matter of convenience.  You may think these things are unrelated, but you’d be wrong.

This post has run on long enough.  I’ll take a rest, but I’ll be back. This subject is far too vast, and too important, to be wrapped into a thousand words or less. We’ve spent too much time making abortion a political issue.  Democrats, Republicans, liberals, conservatives, none of these words have anything to do with abortion, although our society would like to convince you differently.  At some point, our own moral conscience, and in fact, our common sense, simply must come into play.

If not, the death will continue, with or without guns.

 


 

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