Random Thoughts After Reading a Well Written Piece
From Another Apostle of the Obvious
He writes well. Why not? He is a professor after all. One expects good writing from professors; good thinking, too. And, to give credit where it is due, the man thinks well, very well. It is simply the case though, that well written or not, no one, especially those folks under 30 or so who will move into positions of authority and influence some day soon, and the ones they will replace, really gives a tinker’s damn about innocent and helpless millions being scraped, chopped, hoovered and snipped to death by the thousands each day.
And why should they care about these “things”; the ill gotten products of conception, the embarrassing or troubling consequences of bad planning or ill conceived (pun intended) ideas?
They will never vote. They will never pay a tax, or push a broom, play a game or pound a gavel. They will never say a prayer or smell a rose. They will never speak a word of love or shout a slogan of support or protest. They have no party and no preference, no voice or opinion. Let them go who have in fact never come. They simply do not matter. Never known, they cannot be ever missed. They were never really here, and one cannot kill, can one, what never was here?
It is like opening the door in answer to a knock one thought had been heard to discover no one there, closing it and walking back to the TV set thinking, “How absurd. I could have sworn…”
The wind plays tricks, blows where it will.
They are a fantasy. They are less than apparitions. They have been defined out of existence; un-created though once so, non-persons, stateless, worse than a wandering tribe.
Harry Blackmun of painful and dishonorable memory and his black robed soul brothers and sisters burn now someplace deep and dark, everlastingly enveloped in a penumbra of agony. Robed in shadows of lies and selfishness the restless stand in line waiting their turn; somewhere among them a place reserved for the Blasphemer In Chief; his curling lips, his lying tongue for eternity to be capable only of calling some god to bless murder and murderers.
We may well awaken to the day, and it will be soon I truly believe, when someone realizes what a wonderful food source is contained in all that protein rich mass “harvested” each year and capitalizes on the everlasting supply to the glory of god and benefit of a tolerant, compassionate and self-satisfied, but always hungry, population.
Let professors say what they may. The ordinary magisterium of the people speaks well above the silence of the never here, the tiny cries of the cold and soon forgotten few. The wisdom of the burning justices covers them all in molten night. Then will they say, “How obvious it all should have been? But we were distracted by something we cannot quite remember, now. I suppose it’s too late to apologize?”
Now? Now they say, “It’s not a person! I wouldn’t do that to a person.”