A skeptical preacher with a virtual pulpit

March 16, 2012

I’m thinking Dave will agree with this one, but there are days when I think I would have ended up a decent preacher in another life. It’s stuff like this latest DKos diary that gets it out of my system, I suppose.

It gets difficult to express, without recourse to profanity, what it feels like to read stories like this one. Where some hapless would-be mother, a victim of quirky fetal development, is forced into suffering and pain by the state. Where would-be caregivers are instead mandated to perform unnecessary procedures and read from government-written scripts that have nothing to do with modern medicine, but everything to do with guilt-tripping vulnerable women from one bad choice to the other.

Where some bunch of crusty old priests in their funny hats wax philosophical on the inexcusable sin of ending a life, even one that promises to be nothing but pain and suffering, all the courtesy of their pet god-concept and the games it purports to play with our universe.

It’s my rage, I’m entitled to make light of it. This is something that’ll never happen to me. I’m just an observer. Wouldn’t wish it on anyone, though. Not even Rick Perry.

Quick edit: Didn’t expect that would be so highly recommended, but there it is! Happens every so often, not as often as I’d like of course, but oh well. At least this one has a good story behind it, and it’s that story that I hope gets read, not so much my ranting about it.


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