Thursday, July 30, 2015


The following is sooo not safe for kids.

Suppose you gave me, as a gift, a pet kitten—the über-cute, heart-melting kind.

Go ahead, fuss all you like.  I'll wait till it's out of your system.

Now suppose when you gave me this fuzzy bundle of precious, that I said, "Hey, thanks!  Then I wrung its neck and proceeded to dissect it.  How would that make you feel?

And suppose I just said, "Geez, chill!  I know it's not pretty, but it's invaluable to my research.  Hell, might even save lives someday."

When you were done being sick, you might look at me like this:

Or you might just cut to the chase and call me a monster.  Because I am.  You gave me a gift of the heart, and I, out of some affective disorder, blithely destroyed the precious life that made it beautiful.

That's why so many people are outraged at this:

Not to my point here, but even though Dr. Palmer may have been a victim of dishonest guides (Never trust a guy named "Honest" from a place that sends you spam from "princes" looking for your bank account), but really - isn't it obvious that today, the big game animals are inured to Man?  They're seldom, if ever, on their guard the way they were 100 years ago when Hemingway was doing this.  Where's the sport?
And a whole crop of others are outraged at the third round now of this outrage

Think how you'd feel about me dissecting that cat.  Then multiply that by the biggest number you can wrap your mind around.  It's still nothing to how God must feel when someone does that with His gifts.  You made a gift of the cat, but you didn't make the cat.  You gave it as a gift out of love.  God gives children as a gift of His infinite love.  Your kitten is an innocent, adorable creature that you expected me to cherish.  A baby is someone God cherished so much that He came to earth and died for him.

This is why I contend that abortion is the Black Mass in its Ordinary Form.  It's the closest thing you can get to repeating the Crucifixion of Christ, because the lives you take are the closest on earth to Christ's own innocence.

The video starts with Cecile Richards denying that Planned Parenthood profits in any way from the harvested organs of unborn children.  It then shows yet another undercover video where it's clear that not only do they in fact sell the tissue at profit, but sometimes the babies in question aren't always—strictly speaking—unborn.  This provides for more intact specimens (for your shopping convenience).

Finally, we see the butcher's block lab where the tiny organs are on display for the potential customers.  At 11:06, a lab assistant going through them says "Another boy!" the way she might have done in the delivery room.

I don't know where to start.  Sherry Antonetti suggests adopting an abortionist, since "This kind cannot be driven out by anything but prayer and fasting" (Mk. 9:29).  Doesn't sound like a bad idea.

Students for Life have gone so far as to name the boy whose wreckage gets picked through in the video.  They've dubbed him Emmett, after Emmett Till, a black boy lynched by the Klan for talking fresh to a white woman.  They've launched the hashtag #callhimEmmett.  I like it, but it cuts deeper than that for me.

I think of Donne's Devotions:

No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend's or of thine[Pg 109] own were: any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bells tolls; it tolls for thee.
#CallhimEmmett ?   Better yet, #IAmBabyEmmett.

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