Sanctified

I forgot to post anything about the Bush-brainchild, National Sanctity of Life Day, on Sunday; it's a good thing there's Mark Morford to pick up the slack, bitch slap it a few times, and then hurl it into San Francisco Bay. Look, I know that abortion is a divisive issue, that between my friends and I, I'm one of the few tham am actually pro-choice -- what can I say, I attended, and thus made most of my adult friends at, a Midwestern Bible college, where the inclusion of televisions in dormrooms was a new thing the year I arrived -- so I'm going to steer my comments, for now anyway, along with the shaper edge of Morford's vitriol, away from the specifics of that issue (click the link if you crave more), and direct them upon an easier target.

Morford first goes for a series of bodyshots:

Both giddy with the knowledge that 100,000 more US troops have just been shipped to the Gulf to prepare to kill roughly 500,000 Iraqis and generate roughly 900,000 refugees, with millions more destitute and in need of aid (as estimated by the U.N.'s recent analysis of an Iraq attack called "Likely Humanitarian Scenarios"), the sanctity of whose life, apparently, don't matter in the slightest.

Dubya actually said it. He actually went so far as to pledge his administration's commitment to "build a culture that respects life," saying this with a straight face, no violent lightning bolt striking him dead on the spot, no gnarled filthy hell-beasts reaching with clawed fingers up from the ground and dragging him under, isn't that just the sweetest thing and don't you just feel the sentiment deep in your heart? Or perhaps your colon?

He follows this up with an illegal headbutt:

This is the Bush message. This is the smirky, self-righteous dogma. Life only has any sort of sanctity if you are, you know, unborn, as in fetal, and belonging to a nice blandly married Republican couple somewhere in Ohio or Colorado Springs, blindly supportive of both the multiple ongoing wars and the overturning of Roe v. Wade and the creation of the Homophobia Merit Badge for the Boy Scouts.

Ending it all with a fatal Yokozuna:

So there it is. National Sanctity of Life Day. The perfect opportunity for the rest of us sentient, sexually attuned self-defined being on the planet to declare each of the other 364 days of the year either "Pipe Down And Keep Your Whiny Religious BS Out Of My Sex Life Day," or "Spank an Uptight Anti-Choice Groupthink Dinkmonkey Whilst Embracing And Sucking The Toes of Your Own Funky Gorgeous Ability to Think For Yourself Day," -- either of which, I think we can all agree, will look absolutely fabulous on a greeting card.

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