Peter Angelo
12-01-2003, 04:20 AM
ABORTION
The ability to safely abort certainly makes the choice safe, but it does not address reality. Science and medical technology has advanced far enough. It is the distribution that is the problem.
In my ancient youth abortions were often performed relatively safely by midwives who had enough experience with female anatomy to know how to pierce the uterus and cause a failed pregnancy. Infection was the main problem. It still is, but medicine has taken care of that. It is the back room hack we fear.
It's like drugs, abortion would be easily available, one-way or another, no matter what.
The anti-abortion forces are growing because we have had thirty years to see what the long-term effects are. Education the hard way is how we learn
I have six kids and four grand children with all that implies. I am besieged with love and attention with people who know me and care.
I have a sister four years younger than me who was a very hot groupie in the 60's. She had at least four abortions so she could stay at the party forever. When she got older she tried to get pregnant but the damage done from all the abortions made it impossible. She is now fifty-four, desperately lonely and guilt ridden. She sees how much life surrounds me, me brother, and my twin sister. We were all over productive. She wishes for an early death and is in miserable health.
She murdered her family and the grand children she so desperately wants are ghosts eating her soul away.
I married four women to get the six kids. Only one was an abortion queen. She had one son that we share and three she killed. My son lives in another state with his wife and kids. She never sees them and is so neurotic my daughter in law would move to China to get away from her. She calls me crying that she is lonely and deserted and I have lots of kids. I am cruel I know when I tell her it is her own fault. She says she knows, that is the problem.
That kind of end game is what too many families have seen. At fifty-four, Britny Speers won't be able to buy it. That's reality. So is loneliness and guilt. Friends are fine, but blood is blood. If you struggle, no matter what, to raise a family, they will grow old and appreciate what it took to not abort them.
At the University of South Florida the media ethics professor, Jay Black, invited me to a showing of a documentary on selective abortion. He knows me too well. I was born with a clubfoot. I can now dance ballet better than Baryshnikov. I challenge him.
At the end of the film I stood up and said I had to make a comment. I told them that, " I was born with a club foot. I'm sure my mother would probably have aborted me when she was young if she had the choice and the information in advance. I just wanted you to know that I'm real glad to be here, even if no one else is."
It got quiet.
The prime directive in life is to multiply. From the age of six I had nothing on my mind but women. Four wives, countless lovers, and not done yet. There is nothing else as good but sleep. Everything else is work.
Life is never easy or perfect. We all grow up in spite of our parents. They are just people struggling to survive with the whole world working against them. It is the best argument for each of us to voluntarily help each other like a big family. La, la, la. Laugh if you will, but without support from family and community we get what we've got now.
There is a choice to keep your legs closed. Once there is life the choice is human dignity or murder.
I miss the days when there were simultaneously demands from work, family, community, and the need to party. It is war on four fronts. That's living.
In the twenties, thirties, and even forties, there is time and energy to do it. Education can come at anytime in life. Some people breed early, some late. Our society has become a twenty-four hour a day routine. It feels like life is just one long day with naps, food, and the rest in between.
Why not go with the flow. After the first five years a parent can go back to school and change careers five times. It doesn't matter anymore. What matters is that there are responsible people around to help during rough times. Things can change fast. I've been in the crapper and back rich again in a year or so. Some of the best times my wives and I had were when our backs were up against the wall and we fought back to back.
That's living. That's when you know what you are made of. Where did the idea come from that you should flush a kid down the toilet because you're not ready to hire a nanny? Get real. At the end of the road if you are alone it is hell. Go to a nursing home and ask old people. I volunteer one day a week. I have learned from them over the years and got lots of good advice. A lot of my success is because of them.
Making abortion illegal is nuts. It will be done anyway, but not safely.
Before 1970 I remember watching a documentary on abortion with my pregnant wife. It made us sick. That baby is my oldest son now. He's thirty-seven. I cannot imagine having killed him. For what? A couple years of changing diapers. Good God. They grow up so fast it's ridiculous. What a bunch of lazy, insipid, soulless idiots.
Teach the long-term effects. Discourage it as much as you can. Make it as disgusting as smoking. But be real.
The ability to safely abort certainly makes the choice safe, but it does not address reality. Science and medical technology has advanced far enough. It is the distribution that is the problem.
In my ancient youth abortions were often performed relatively safely by midwives who had enough experience with female anatomy to know how to pierce the uterus and cause a failed pregnancy. Infection was the main problem. It still is, but medicine has taken care of that. It is the back room hack we fear.
It's like drugs, abortion would be easily available, one-way or another, no matter what.
The anti-abortion forces are growing because we have had thirty years to see what the long-term effects are. Education the hard way is how we learn
I have six kids and four grand children with all that implies. I am besieged with love and attention with people who know me and care.
I have a sister four years younger than me who was a very hot groupie in the 60's. She had at least four abortions so she could stay at the party forever. When she got older she tried to get pregnant but the damage done from all the abortions made it impossible. She is now fifty-four, desperately lonely and guilt ridden. She sees how much life surrounds me, me brother, and my twin sister. We were all over productive. She wishes for an early death and is in miserable health.
She murdered her family and the grand children she so desperately wants are ghosts eating her soul away.
I married four women to get the six kids. Only one was an abortion queen. She had one son that we share and three she killed. My son lives in another state with his wife and kids. She never sees them and is so neurotic my daughter in law would move to China to get away from her. She calls me crying that she is lonely and deserted and I have lots of kids. I am cruel I know when I tell her it is her own fault. She says she knows, that is the problem.
That kind of end game is what too many families have seen. At fifty-four, Britny Speers won't be able to buy it. That's reality. So is loneliness and guilt. Friends are fine, but blood is blood. If you struggle, no matter what, to raise a family, they will grow old and appreciate what it took to not abort them.
At the University of South Florida the media ethics professor, Jay Black, invited me to a showing of a documentary on selective abortion. He knows me too well. I was born with a clubfoot. I can now dance ballet better than Baryshnikov. I challenge him.
At the end of the film I stood up and said I had to make a comment. I told them that, " I was born with a club foot. I'm sure my mother would probably have aborted me when she was young if she had the choice and the information in advance. I just wanted you to know that I'm real glad to be here, even if no one else is."
It got quiet.
The prime directive in life is to multiply. From the age of six I had nothing on my mind but women. Four wives, countless lovers, and not done yet. There is nothing else as good but sleep. Everything else is work.
Life is never easy or perfect. We all grow up in spite of our parents. They are just people struggling to survive with the whole world working against them. It is the best argument for each of us to voluntarily help each other like a big family. La, la, la. Laugh if you will, but without support from family and community we get what we've got now.
There is a choice to keep your legs closed. Once there is life the choice is human dignity or murder.
I miss the days when there were simultaneously demands from work, family, community, and the need to party. It is war on four fronts. That's living.
In the twenties, thirties, and even forties, there is time and energy to do it. Education can come at anytime in life. Some people breed early, some late. Our society has become a twenty-four hour a day routine. It feels like life is just one long day with naps, food, and the rest in between.
Why not go with the flow. After the first five years a parent can go back to school and change careers five times. It doesn't matter anymore. What matters is that there are responsible people around to help during rough times. Things can change fast. I've been in the crapper and back rich again in a year or so. Some of the best times my wives and I had were when our backs were up against the wall and we fought back to back.
That's living. That's when you know what you are made of. Where did the idea come from that you should flush a kid down the toilet because you're not ready to hire a nanny? Get real. At the end of the road if you are alone it is hell. Go to a nursing home and ask old people. I volunteer one day a week. I have learned from them over the years and got lots of good advice. A lot of my success is because of them.
Making abortion illegal is nuts. It will be done anyway, but not safely.
Before 1970 I remember watching a documentary on abortion with my pregnant wife. It made us sick. That baby is my oldest son now. He's thirty-seven. I cannot imagine having killed him. For what? A couple years of changing diapers. Good God. They grow up so fast it's ridiculous. What a bunch of lazy, insipid, soulless idiots.
Teach the long-term effects. Discourage it as much as you can. Make it as disgusting as smoking. But be real.