I Am Pro-Abortion
Berate me not, you arrogant pro-life bastard, with talk of babies' rights to live long and prosper. Your argument is invalid by default, considering at this point you have no idea whether or not that baby isn't going to do something to void its humanity anyway, like lead lightning marches against the Jews or become a pompous, self-righteous prick like yourself.
No, my friends, judge me not on my sin until I've had equal opportunity to speak. You see, for the longest time, I was pro-life as well. Well...at the very least, I was anti-abortion. I've only just recently realized how urgent it is that we start slaughtering the hope and future of America and made the quantam leap to pro-abortion (NOT pro-choice. See, pro-CHOICE shifts the focus from social justice and bloody termination procedures to a feminist power trip, and that I do not condone).
My argument against abortion stands thusly: we as a society honor stupidity. We praise mistakes and those who make them, and we beg them to go out and screw up again.
"Can't support a child right now? No worries, let's hack that thing outta ya."
"You're parents are gonna kill you? Not on my watch!"
"Raped in a back alley? We'll fix that in a jiffy."
(Leading advocates contest that by mandate of Webster's Modern English, the correct spelling is "giffy." Bite me.)
When reality proves to be a little too much for us to handle, we find ways to circumvent the system fast. How many commercials have you seen lately that link health issues to genetics? 'It's not your fault you gorge yourself on brownies and refuse to get off your fat ass unless your internet's down. Your second uncle twice-removed had an inoperable brain tumor.' Seriously, how many people have you met that managed to avoid eating disorders by hitting the gym once a week? I certainly haven't found any of their Myspace accounts.
So, how do we cope with our incorrigibly corpulent problems? We drink! Praise you, proud inventor of raw, unpurified alcohol, for stamping depression out of our minds. Zoloft's got nothin' on your liquory goodness. Forget your problems and how they got there. Why labor through the hard times when the pharmacy has two doors wide open? Why try to find a better job after the immigrants stole yours? Why try to pull yourself out of the shit-hole you're living in and make a difference? You're right. Don't. It's pointless.
Society as we know it is a handy catalog of excuses and quick fixes. "My parents never let me have fun when I was in high school, so I partied the whole time I was in college. Now my life is ruined." A true quote from an authentic fast-food employee who doesn't realize the first fourteen words of that sentence are unnecessary.
The point I inevitable home in on is that if we keep telling the world it's okay for them to screw up, they'll keep doing it. Don't want your daughters to come home hung-over and pregnant any more? Put a cap on abortions. Pragmatists seem to think that won't do a damned thing; kids'll just migrate to international clinics. Sure, let's let a few girls drive over the border and get their abortions in a Mexican health care facility. They'll think twice about ever opening their legs again (if they even can anymore).
Now, there exists only one valid argument, the only flawless reasoning that brought me over to the dark side and that convinced me of the absolute necessity to encourage our children to keep ruining their lives.
In the grand scheme of things, whether you're a nature or nurture believer, in one way or another, parental genetics and upbringing reflect on the child somehow.
Say we indeed force the idiotic mother who doesn't give a damn for responsibility to have her child. Now we have two stupid people running around...
No, my friends, judge me not on my sin until I've had equal opportunity to speak. You see, for the longest time, I was pro-life as well. Well...at the very least, I was anti-abortion. I've only just recently realized how urgent it is that we start slaughtering the hope and future of America and made the quantam leap to pro-abortion (NOT pro-choice. See, pro-CHOICE shifts the focus from social justice and bloody termination procedures to a feminist power trip, and that I do not condone).
My argument against abortion stands thusly: we as a society honor stupidity. We praise mistakes and those who make them, and we beg them to go out and screw up again.
"Can't support a child right now? No worries, let's hack that thing outta ya."
"You're parents are gonna kill you? Not on my watch!"
"Raped in a back alley? We'll fix that in a jiffy."
(Leading advocates contest that by mandate of Webster's Modern English, the correct spelling is "giffy." Bite me.)
When reality proves to be a little too much for us to handle, we find ways to circumvent the system fast. How many commercials have you seen lately that link health issues to genetics? 'It's not your fault you gorge yourself on brownies and refuse to get off your fat ass unless your internet's down. Your second uncle twice-removed had an inoperable brain tumor.' Seriously, how many people have you met that managed to avoid eating disorders by hitting the gym once a week? I certainly haven't found any of their Myspace accounts.
So, how do we cope with our incorrigibly corpulent problems? We drink! Praise you, proud inventor of raw, unpurified alcohol, for stamping depression out of our minds. Zoloft's got nothin' on your liquory goodness. Forget your problems and how they got there. Why labor through the hard times when the pharmacy has two doors wide open? Why try to find a better job after the immigrants stole yours? Why try to pull yourself out of the shit-hole you're living in and make a difference? You're right. Don't. It's pointless.
Society as we know it is a handy catalog of excuses and quick fixes. "My parents never let me have fun when I was in high school, so I partied the whole time I was in college. Now my life is ruined." A true quote from an authentic fast-food employee who doesn't realize the first fourteen words of that sentence are unnecessary.
The point I inevitable home in on is that if we keep telling the world it's okay for them to screw up, they'll keep doing it. Don't want your daughters to come home hung-over and pregnant any more? Put a cap on abortions. Pragmatists seem to think that won't do a damned thing; kids'll just migrate to international clinics. Sure, let's let a few girls drive over the border and get their abortions in a Mexican health care facility. They'll think twice about ever opening their legs again (if they even can anymore).
Now, there exists only one valid argument, the only flawless reasoning that brought me over to the dark side and that convinced me of the absolute necessity to encourage our children to keep ruining their lives.
In the grand scheme of things, whether you're a nature or nurture believer, in one way or another, parental genetics and upbringing reflect on the child somehow.
Say we indeed force the idiotic mother who doesn't give a damn for responsibility to have her child. Now we have two stupid people running around...