Delivered by a Congressman:
"Ladies. Gentlemen. I am my father and mother's son. I don't know much else; here's what I do know: life is precious. The smartest genius among us couldn't fathom the beauty of it; the wisest yet wouldn't even be able to predict the sheer potential, the impact of a single human life. I stand before you a man lucky and happy to be born.
With happy sentiment in the air, let's talk about the merriest subject of all, the one we've made careers of: politics, but let me speak you personally, as a person. You see, I am my mother's son. My mother, while I was still unborn, was told I may be born retarded. My entire life's potential diminished by circumstance of her being an older mother was a real possibility to that man to the best of his knowledge. My mother, being a good Christian Republican, (those aren't unrelated, heh), must have immediately tossed that idea aside. God is King of All after-all, even me, knitting me together, piece by piece as my mother held me in herself, waiting on the day to hold me instead in her arms. But any thought can stick around sickly, like a tell-tale heart, annoying at first, but growing slowly more and more terrifying. Her prayers wrapping around me like a blanket, though even she could not fully imagine the life ahead of me if I were born with that ailment. She hoped, prayed for the best, but the worst, always nagging at the mind, I'm certain, she was not unprepared for when my nine months were up.
So dearest compatriots, let us speak now on the merriest subject of them all. Politics. What if my mother were liberal? Liberal... What's that word even mean? Isn't it derived from liberty? Does it mean choice then? Liberals get to choose, have freedom. My dear, dear countrymen, I ask you earnestly, freedom at what cost? In all its awfulness, I cannot imagine being unborn for all eternity, never having breathed, developed, lived. Dying in the womb, what a horrifying thought! Yet in our self-righteous intellectual and human, all too human minds, we construct lies, damned, damned lies. I know of Life, but where is Choice in the Bible? Huh? The right to choose? Where is it in our Declaration or our Bill of Rights? More importantly than this, the question 'the right to choose what?'
I will tell you what, though it displeases me it is necessary for me to do so.
The right to choose a baby's last breath; the right to keep a mother from holding a small child, her child, lovingly in the bow of her arms, as a father looks on with curious and wonder-struck eyes at the beauty of creation; the right for a cold hand and syringe to do unspeakable evil; is it the right to take away a child's childhood we want? Perhaps it's the right to take away adolescence or adulthood; maybe even still it's the lives of those our children would themselves have that we wish to steal, take away and destroy, in what? The name of choice, of freedom? A cold calculation of cost-benefit? A desire for personal good fortune? Or is it merely a hatred of reality, true cause-and-effect where people die! Because of what we do! All of this is equatable with the pagans and the children they themselves made through love; the same children falling down the ziggurat steps, they rolled their heads, for good fortune and the favor of their gods. We look at that in disgust; we look at ourselves with nobility, imagining evil is in our past.
Evil is real; evil is here among us, splitting each our hearts. We kill our own kin, the lives, the loves that could have been. In dozens. In hundreds. In thousands. In droves. In small, awful caskets. We are murderers; we all have their blood on our hands. What have we done to stop this atrocity, this modern day holocaust in our midst? We've signed it off as a utilitarian greater-good debate; we've let a great evil slip through our fingers. Why not allow murder? Because it's wrong? Tell me, my dearest and beloved brothers and sisters in government, is it wrong to choose to murder? Is it wrong to kill an infant? Is it wrong to kill a fetus? Tell me, please, I desire your answer more than water or air, I want to know: is it alright to kill a zygote because it wouldn't be able to fight back? Or is it because it can't vocalize its pain until many years later, or at all, because it's dead? The poor creature is that which we abort, that we abandon; not merely abandon, we steal its life; the kid is dead. Because you and I killed it. This is no debate; this is an urgent and black plague that is sweeping our minds and our hands, killing our young and ruining this fine nation. I am glad our founders aren't here today to see the mess we've made; I only pray our God has mercy upon our souls. This is life-and-death, but we choose to merely call it politics."
