PRO-LIFE OR PRO-HEART THUMP? | 2006-09-25
I was discussing the Catholic Church position on life with a priest. I gave the example of a woman who had spinal cancer.
She was in such agony that she had literally chewed her lips off right there in the hospital. The priest continued to insist
that every moment of her doomed life in agony was infinitely precious.
About the last thing Paul Craig Roberts said to me, hearing my views, was, "You know, Bob, it's nice to know that some things
neve change." So I guess I might get some ironic pleasure in what that priest said. In a twisted way, I guess it's nice to
know that some things never change, like the Spirit of the Spanish Inquisition. Human agony makes no difference as long as
the woman's heart kept on thumping.
I am pro-life, but what I mean by "life" is not a fetilized egg or a mechanical heart thumping away. Life to me is feelings,
not mechanics.
I once had a definition in my Partisan Dictionary in the Southern Partisan:
"Life -- n -- For most people this is just a period of time that prevents birth and death from being simultaneous."
I remember one writer who said that George Washington could not have been much of a humanitarian since he liked fox hunting:
"No one who can watch what a pack of dogs does to a fox when they catch it can have many feelings."
Well, I doubt that historian ever saw what he was talking about. I KNOW he never saw what a fox does to a rabbit just about about every day.
Those who condemn hunting seem to think that, left out in the wild, deer normally die in an Intensive Care Unit, surrounded by their loving family, as was hinted at in the movie Bambi. Real death in nature is nasty, brutish, and lonely if it is not inflicted by a wolf by slow suffocation or by a hunter with a quick bullet. I have serious problems romanticizing it, maybe because I've seen too much of it.
What all those chest-beating, bragging World War II vets went through at Normandy is NOTHING compared to what a person in the Burn Ward of a hospital faces every morning. But, thanks to the spirit of hte Spanish Inquisition contained in the Hippocratic Oath, the patient has no out in civilized society.
The same doctors who will not inject poison into a murderer will not show the same mercy, again in the name ofhte Hippocratic Oath, to someone with third-degree burns over three-quarters of his doomed body. And if he would, the priest or the preacher would be there to see that the person suffers every las possible bit of agony that can be wrenched out of him.
In Africa, you NEVER left anyone behind to be captured by Communist guerrillas.
You SHOT them. You blew your own head off with a grenade or swallowed the barrel of a gun. But you were NEVER captured. That historian who talked about a fox and a dog pack should have seen what was left of a captive, or a villager, after the Friends of the People, aided by the World Council of Churches, got through with them.
Do you know the meaning of the term "flayed?" Those are precious moments of life only a "Christian" could be cheerful about.
To me, a colored country is not life. The colored world without whites is an ant colony, but the ants can FEEL.
Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. If world without whites is life, I am the world's most fanatical pro-abortionist.