by Glenn Fairman 9/2/16
Without taking into account those pregnancies terminated in lieu of the mother’s health, which in real terms are less than negligible, selective abortion as a form of birth control is a heinous sin akin to murder. In admitting this, should we be so surprised, given our present state of debauchery, that society has muted its horror by couching it into a civil rights or identity politics framework?
Civilizations pass into judgment for manifold reasons. Having grown luxurious in their circumstances while craving those sensations that both debase and weave their spell of forgetfulness, the generous spirit that dominated a once free people is soon drained of its power to measure the distance it has fallen. Thereafter, the corrupt not only abandon that barometer and pervert the language which chronicles their degeneracy, they forcibly upend their society’s moral equilibrium with entitled relish: transvaluing evil for good in a macabre dance of the proud and profane.
The vast majority of sins that degrade a human being into a hard-hearted pleasure-soaked pig are visited on the guilty themselves. But with abortion, one marries convenience without having to immediately reap the wages of the act. Yet rest assured, no civil authorities will ever call you into account for the rupturing of this natural moral law outlawing nascent murder. Indeed, it is the guileless life within the womb that reaps the capital verdict. As the paradox spins full circle, it is the innocent that suffer the agony in mortal silence.
Perhaps if we fashioned an aborted child to a cross, the deep implications of the act would be made intelligible once again to a people who have ceased to care of justice and mercy, as they click their tongues in mocking assent to a crucifixion they call freedom.
Glenn Fairman returns from the wilderness with a (big) bang and writes from Highland, Ca.
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