Something on my Mind: I Could Believe in Abortion (Part Two)

[This is the second part of lst week's column. Read it and reap.]

I could believe in abortion...if it wasn't for economics. I'm not sure if anyone is making the connection between the millions of missing babies over the past thirty years and economics, but we have a serious people shortage in this country. Let's see: that would mean a consumer shortage, a labour shortage, and, while we're at it, let's throw in a grandchildren shortage.

Think of all the aborted babies that would now be in their mid-thirties. That's a lot of consumers, employees, as well as plain old chilren and grandchildren.

And while the issue is serious here, it's perilous in places like Japan, where the deathrate exeeds the birthrate. That means there are more people dying than those replacing them. In another generation or two, there will be a such a counsumer, employee, and generational shortage in some countries that their respective economies may collapse.

The more kids we have (at least two to replace the mother and father and carry on society) the better. Our economy works effectively this way. Every society for the past 10,000 years has done this. Parents provide for kids when they're young; and kids provide for their parents when they're old.

I know that sounds crass, that is, to keep on having children (rather than keep on not having them). Children are necessary to fill up the gaps in the population needs. Importing consumers, employees, and the next generation (via immigration) is one way to fill the void. It just seems second-best to me. Part of the reason replacement is so necessary is we have wiped out major segments of two generations.

I could believe in abortion...if it wasn't for logic. How many babies have been saved when their mother was mortally wounded or there has been some distress with the baby—even though they are only five months old in the womb? Yet other babies in the womb, in another setting--even older than five months--are savagely butchered in the mother's womb for no logical reason.

Advanced medical procedures in the womb that would appear to be a waste, then, if that "collection of cells and tissues" is not fully human. There are some very serious inconsistencies in logic here, people.

Another logical fallacy is the over-population myth. This is often initiated by academics in their ivory towers, then perpetuated by their dupes in the sterile world of liberal universities, urban settings, and leftist media. We do not have a population problem: this planet is far from overcrowded.

If we have too much of anything, it's too much blatant greed and corruption, too much rampant immorality and promiscuity. There is sufficient food and space, jobs and futures, for all.

I could believe in abortion...if it wasn't for semantics. Interesting word games here, whereby the living child is renamed a "fetus," thus diminishing its humanness., in order to salve the conscience of murder And we speak of "choice," but whose choice is it? Certainly the baby has no choice in the matter of its life or death.

So in other words, if you're working with words, please use them correctly.

I suggest that the worst misnomer is "Planned Parenthood"; it gets to me everytime I hear it. I always thought that if you planned something, you would actually go out and do it. Right? So if you are planning parenthood, what are you really planning? Wouldn't "Selective Parenthood" or "Planned Deathhood" be more accurate? Even Planned Non-Parenthood would be fine with me.

I am so grateful for the many organizations that are pro-active in saving babies' lives (from the womb of injustice), and often restoring the mothers themselves, allowing them to get out of the treadmill of despair.

After all, "all lives matter."

 

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Something on my Mind: I Could Believe in Abortion (Part One)

Now don't get your nose in a knot: I have not exchanged my pro-life position for a pro-death one. I am just going out on a limb with some intriguing arguments, ones that are normally used to defend abortion.

This time I will turn the tables and defuse that position, using the same arguments.

I really struggle with the whole abortion position, as you will know from previous columns--from the innocent human victims, the misguided mothers (maybe even fathers), and even to the medical profession that sees no inconsistency or immorality in killing a child.

Please consider the following disclaimer carefully: I am not a ranting nor raving extremist. I am simply stating my conviction, and I know that many, many readers hold the same view.

I am intentionally leaving out the "faith-based" rationale—you know, the factors that include morality, the Bible, God, and personal belief system. From my perspective, they are my strongest argument, but I refrain. My six points (three this week and three next) are the ones that abortionists could throw at me, so I just want to do the courteous thing and throw them back...nicely.

I really need a few pages to develop these thoughts, not just two columns.

I could believe in abortion...if it wasn't for science. Get it? I am using science to defuse the abortion argument! How can a guy from humanities (that would be me) be in league with anyone from the sciences? However, when science is beahaving like genuine science, rather than religion masquerading as science (hello, evolution), I'm in. But I digress...

All I know is what I see in the womb (thanks to technology, via ultrasounds) is not a lifeless blob or loose collection of cells. When I see that child, I marvel at the fingers and toes, the head with all its faculties intact, and the skelteal system—just for starters. How anyone could see anything other than that is beyound me. Science comes through in spades to reinforce a pre-birth pro-life position.

And furthermore, we have those indisputable rules of reproduction (thanks again to biology). We can take our cue from the animal world—like we have to?—so when conception takes place, resulting in a calf, dog, cat, or whatever. Who would dispute that life begins at conception for a calf, for example, but not a human?

A culture that messes with genuine science is one that is on the slippery slope of moral implosion. I would need a column or two on the history of such movements worldwide in the past (Dr. Mengele, anyone?) and note what happens when a society turns on itself—that is, messes with the lives and bodies of its most vulnerable people.

I could believe in abortion...if it wasn't for eyesight. Have you ever seen a picture of an aborted baby? Or part of one—that is, part of a picture or even (gasp) of a baby torn apart? Universities ban said pictures from pro-life displays. Ever thought why? Not because it's too graphic; they show far worse things on screens and posters. I think it's partly because it's too revealing and too unnerving morally.

Anyone with even only one eye can see clearly that those mangled pieces are part of a real human being. If there is a problem with the eyesight argument, it's with those who are"blinded" by selfishnes, peer pressure, mass media, and half truths.

Here's a simple test: Show the picture of a butchered baby to a child. Ask them what they see. I have no doubt they will say they see a mangled child. Sometimes kids see things more clearly than we adults do.

I could believe in abortion..if it wasn't for conscience. It really baffles me that anyone in the baby-killing business— doctors, nurses, and support staff—could study the whole process of conception, gestation, and delivery (the life continuum) and not grasp the reality what they're dealing with. What has ever happened to their conscience?

If carrying the baby is an inconvenience, the least the woman could do is carry it full term and give it up for adoption. There are reputedly thousandsm (probably even tens of thousands) of families that are ready and willing to adopt. Abortion is a grisly form of birth control, I have no civil words for that—except that those who practice this are confused at best, sick at worst.

More fallout next week.

 

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Something on my Mind: I Bought a Dodge

There, it's out: I have recently left the Ford fold and joined the order of Dodge.

This was actually easier than I thought, having been a Ford man all my life. Okay, not exactly all my life, but at least since I've been buying vehicles. Well, that's not even true either: I've run the gamut of buying any brand under the sun, so long as it had four wheels and a radio—and a bucket seat to fit, well, my bucket.

It just seemed that most trucks and cars that I bought in the past few years were Fords. You might say that's the closest I have really ever gotten to a four-letter word that starts with "F."

I'm so old that my first purchase was a Datsun—that's right, Datsun, as in predecessor to Nissan. Over the years I have had two of their pickups (by the time I got the second one, it had become Nissan), as well as a variety of vans and cars.

Many of the wheels I bought were a reflection of where I was at as a father and landowner: few kids (= small van); lots of kids (= extended van); then back to few kids (= seven-seater SUV). Now I'm driving an Escape.

And my little Datsun/Nissan was when I was a city boy. Now I'm in the country, I buy these much bigger pickups—like the one this column is all about.

The way my family is downsizing, my next set of wheels will be a moped. Go figure.

Back to my fuzzy phase Ford phenomena: My thing about them really kicked in only a few years ago, a few years before I moved out here. I really thought I was a Ford lifer. I was happy with them and they with me. I was looking diligently for another F-150, after one of my kids had a close encounter of the worst kind (result: post, 1; truck, 0).

How I ended up with a Dodge is another long story—too long in too little space.

Buying a vehicle is a reflection also of an age. I want to use the word "maturity" for where I'm at now, but that would sound like a putdown of those kids under 55, so I refrain. In short, how I chose vehicles in my early years versus how I choose them in these latter ones is quite different.

So today's column could be considered a brief tutorial on how to buy a vehicle when you're over 55 or so. The rules, of course, apply to anyone younger than that. Whether they listen or not is another discussion. But you know kids these days...

Beyond the obvious factors of condition, colour, brand, and appearance, here are some tips that I want to pass along to the kids in newspaperland: Does it run? Is it well priced? Do the doors shut tight? What is it's mechanical track record? But most importantly of all, what's the owner like?

Maybe you don't get it, or see it that way (fine, go write your own column): I spend as much time checking out the guy who is behind the wheel as I do checking out the wheels themselves. From the seller, one should get the vehicle's history (eg., how long they've owned and maintained it). One needs to get a sense as to whether they are on the level, and if their word rings true.

So then, the key to purchasing a car is tied up in the owner's integrity. Obvously, if the owner is a good man, but the car is garabge, you don't buy it. There are other factors, but a good place to start is with the seller.

I don't recall the last time I bought a car off a car lot. Apart from price, I am thinking that car salesmen couldn't pass the litmus test that I apply to a private seller (look two paragraphs north). I know that's a broad brush, but I think there's more truth than not there.

Back to my Dodge story: I took a shine to to the seller, "Bob" (not his real name). It also helped that the pickup was in great shape, had low mileage for its years, the right price for my bank account, plus other qualities that I was looking for.

Does this mean there will be a fleet of Dodges sitting in my driveway over the next few years? I hope not: I don't shell out major bucks for a vehicle only to replace it every couple of years. That's bad stewardship. That's why I take my time.

However, if you see a great deal on a moped, please let me meet the owner.

 

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Something on my Mind: Fort McMurray

By the time this column finally hits the newspaper, only God knows (literally) what will be left of Fort McMurray and its surrounding landscape. It has become Alberta's worst natural disaster, and will likely become Canada's worst natural disaster, if not already.

Some clowns are actually blaming global warming for this catastrophe--seriously.  And  Premier Notley didn't take  Wildrose's Brian Jean seriously in his warning about  the potential severity of the fire,  even accusing him of "fear mongering."  That was merely hours before it really took off.  I'm sure she regrets saying that now.  

Speaking of Jean, look at the way he has handled himself and the city in this mess. (Just for the record, he has lost his own house in the fire.) I wonder which leader is handling this crisis better, and which leader should be running this province. (Actually, I not really wondering...)

Anyways, a few short, scattered thoughts at this time:

The fire. I know a thing or two about a house or two burning down. As I write this, there are 1600 dwellings that have burned to the ground; by the time you read this, there could be more.

There is almost nothing worse in this world than a natural disaster, unless it's a natural disaster that was started by a human twit. Correction: The worse thing would be a natural disaster started by a human twit...that takes the life of a human being To date, no lives have been lost, thanks largely to the speed of the evacuation, initiated by the first responders.

The emigration. This is the second (not first) emigration that Fort McMurray has experienced in the last year or two. The other one didn't get quite grab the headlines as this one, as it shouldn't have. It was based on economics, and involved only hundreds of people, not thousands.

Remember the plunging value of oil and the consequent loss of jobs?

In this present emigration, I saw select shots of the trek south, but when I did, I had to move on--it was too hard to handle. I saw the logjams as they left Fort McMurray, the embers falling onto the cars as they fled down Hwy 63, and the flames raging along their route south. Too much for me  to take in.

That first migration had nothing on the second one. Individuals here, families there, packing up and moving on to find work somewhere else. That's traumatic enough. It's  bad enough for any worker to realize that his days or weeks are numbered, and he's got to move on.

But this second migration was horrific: They had hours (maybe mere minutes) to pack up and pick up everything they could, rush out the door, leaving a house that may or may not be standing when they return. The desperate uncertainty must be one of the greatest challenges for these second emigrators (not a word, but it works).

The support. I suggest this is the most positive component of my thoughts today. First, there is the support of the first responders who are still battling the fire monster. And second, there are the first responders from many jurisdictions throughout North America (mostly Canada and Mexico—yes, Mexico) who are on call, waiting in the wings to come and help.

Firefighters and police officers, plus those who serve and support them, are putting their lives on the line for this. I thank God for this economic, moral, and yes, spiritual infrastructure in place.

Where I have been  blown away, of course, is the support of common Albertans who opened up their communities, homes, wallets, and ultimately, their hearts, for these emigrators (there's that word again). I have seen clips of communitiy halls, rec centres, hockey rinks, to say nothing of backyards and rv's that have been thrown open for the Fort McMurrayites (again, that's not a word).

The list of every imaginable support, service, and supply that has been offered is endless. There are so many retail outlets throughout the province with drop boxes for the fire victims. I see where sports teams and other agencies have likewise stepped up to the plate. Even the government has done its fair share, though most has come from the common citizen, as it should.

To look for a silver lining in this tragedy of tragedies may cheapen its severity. But I am so proud to see my fellow-Albertans come through within hours of this debacle. Good on you, Alberta, and all the best to you, Fort McMurray.

 

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