So today, being the anniversary of the decision in Roe v. Wade, is “Blog For Choice Day,” and a whole lot of feminist-oriented bloggers are writing eloquent posts about why they’re pro-choice. They’re talking political rights to bodily autonomy, respect for the full human status of women, resistance to the nascent kleptotheocracy the US seems set to become, and a whole bunch of other good reasons. They’re writing political tracts, personal stories, and thoughtful essays, and you should take a look at this roundup of posts at Feministing or the, um, mother lode at Bush v. Choice to get a sense of the range of writing.
And in fact the people who’ve written so far have covered all the usual valid reasons why a guarantee of full reproductive rights for women is the bedrock of a truly free society, so I don’t have to talk about any of that. Which is great, because it frees me to reveal the real reason I’m an avid supporter of legal, accessible, and affordable abortion services.
Fetuses are goddamn punks.
I mean, just look at ‘em. Sitting there all floaty and unconcerned, not taking any responsibility for the world around ‘em, content to just sit there and leech off of someone they don’t even know yet.
Meanwhile, we’re out here every single day using our own lungs and kidneys, and using our own skeletons and muscles to hold ourselves up against the pull of the earth’s gravity, and we do it 24/7, even when we’re asleep! Not only do fetuses not pull their own weight, they don’t even support it. They just sit there in their hot tub with their precious little bulbous heads, their immaculate little eyespots, sucking the oxygen out of women’s blood and replacing it with toxins, then kicking them if they get bored.
And for this they want full legal status as human beings?
And get this: they can’t even be arsed to argue for constitutional protection. No, they have very important naps to take and thumb-buds to suck. They hire that work out to sleazy legislators and sanctimonious zealots.
But the worst of it? They’re cowards, hiding out in Club Uterus until they’re “ready to be born.” “Ready” my ass. More than a third of them off themselves rather than face the cold hard world, most of them before they even become fetuses! “But it’s too haaard to grow a central nervous system!” “I don’t wanna differentiate my genitalia!” “I miss being a blastula!” “That placenta is itchy!” “I wanna stay stuck here in the Fallopian tube where it’s snuggly!”
Goddamn whiners.
I have an idea for you, little Mr. “but I can’t breathe on my own,” little Ms. “Don’t drink a beer, Mommy.” You want full rights as a human citizen of the world? We got this little hazing ritual you have to go through. It’s called “birth.” If you want to be taken seriously, you crawl on out through that birth canal, mister. We’ll even go so far as to give you a little help with a Caesarian section if you need it. We’re nothing if not fair. Your blubbering about how you’re not ready for it doesn’t impress anybody. Even the weakest human out here has done it, Bucko. Even the babies.
Because seriously. Right now we’ve got enough problems keeping our own civil rights, and we really don’t have time to worry about granting them to some little glorified embryo who’s not willing to commit. You get yourself born and we’ll talk. I don’t work with anyone who’s too good to use her own lungs like the rest of us.
I’m with you, Chris!
Some of them little head-up-the-uterus freaks don’t even have the curiosity to come out and LOOK AROUND.
Bunch of embryonic Republicans, if you ask me.
There you go, making weird stuff up again. First there was that frankly surreal account of your illness in which you claimed that you were sick because an invisible creature (or possibly an invisible machine) was cloning itself in your bowels.
Now you’re saying that a human being spends nine sly months growing inside of a woman, a regular female human being, before it emerges and disengages from her body to become a separate individual? Sounds like someone’s been spending a little too much time watching Sigourney Weaver in Alien.
Sounds like someone’s been spending a little too much time watching Sigourney Weaver in Alien.
I don’t think that’s possible.
I’m laughing my ass off, yet somehow my cervix has puckered so tight it’s inverted itself and intussuscepted to about the level of my spleen.
I expect to turn into a human Klein bottle any minute now. Gee thanks, pal.
I expect to turn into a human Klein bottle any minute now
Your outside is in, and your inside is out so come on, come on! Take it easy! Habent abdenda omnes praeter me ac simiam meam!
Cripes, I thought the bunnyrabbit was exotic enough.
There is unrest in the ut’rus
There is trouble in the womb
For the fetus wants more blood flow
And its rights it doth presume
... I got nuthin’
Well. I can say, without a doubt, that after years of reading about the abortion debate you have created a totally unique way to think about the issue.
Congratulations.
They’re fat-headed little bastards as well. Can’t wait until they come out before growing their vast crania, no. I’ve been told this can cause some discomfort during birth.
And to top it off, the larval young of most of our fellow travelers don’t even get a free ride for nine months, much less nine minutes. Perform a plankton tow in salt or fresh water in the spring or fall. Almost all those cute little immature clams, starfish, horseshoe crabs, et al., are on the cusp of being eaten by something bigger and not at all concerned about their right to life. Sheesh. So, to those human feti and their wingnut advocates out there, I say, kwitcherbellyachin.
Hey Chris…thanks for the heads-up e-mail. Glad to see you are taking serious issues as seriously as ever. I read that as short a time ago as the 1960s it was considered unseemly to refer to a woman as pregnant. Instead, she was “with child” or, for in context of your comments, “with embryo.”
Spyder, I don’t think we should rely too heavily on the parasite angle, as this could easily lead to legalized abortions up to the 183rd trimester. Not ready for that just yet. Maybe in eight years or so.
Fetuses are boring and tedious. As are eggs.
The whole thing, boring and tedious.
Fetus, thy name is Ennui.
But I have a personal stake in the whole thing. Every month it’s the same-old same-old: ‘maculate ‘ception, ‘pontaneous ‘bortion, every month, ‘maculate ‘ception, ‘pontaneous ‘bortion, for fucking years—Gah!—I’m so tired of it.
yrs, B. Dagger Lee
“some discomfort.” yeah. i’m forgiving you, rob, because of comment 14. my 59th trimester darling is about to move to his own apartment!
i have not noticed a huge amount of governmental interest in the life of my first fetus, beyond all the threats about him registering for the draft. i guess it is hard to keep track of the actually-born, because even after he registered, they referred him for prosecution for not registering. that’s how much our federal government cares about the sanctity of life!
kathy, I was brought up a true stoic, and “some discomfort” means “like a resounding kick to the goolies every few minutes, for hours/days”. Don’t even ask what “ouch” means.
Civil War field surgeon to Minie ball victim: “This may pinch a bit.”
You are hilarious. I think I love you.
[you know, in a blogular way. but if you happen to have a single twin brother, send him my way]
my math is shit, too. we are actually over 80 trimesters on fetus #1, and that makes me feel pretty ancient.
rob, i never met a doctor who would say, “this is gonna hurt like hell.” they all say “some discomfort.” the good ones offer appropriate meds in time to help.
Freeloading little parasites!
Oh wait, I think all parasites are freeloading, so that may be redundant. But my point still stands! (Unlike those freeloading little parasites!)
Wonderful! The first original take on the abortion issue I’ve read in 20 years of being PC. You rock!