The Party Of Choice
Connect with us on social media:
  • Home
  • Get To Know Us
    • What is Conservatism?
    • What Do We Believe?
    • Tyranny of the Majority
    • "Tough" Issues >
      • Abortion
      • Gay Marriage
      • Marijuana
    • Conservatism, Free Thinking, and a Central Vision
    • Invitation
  • The Eyes of One
  • Videos
    • Choice Words That Win Videos
    • The Refinery
    • Radio Interviews
  • Articles
    • Movie Reviews
  • Sponsor an Ad
  • Unite The Right
  • Events
  • Store
  • Resources
    • Talking Points from Grassroots Radio Colorado Show
    • Petition
    • spOILed The Movie - Time to Fill Up on Truth
    • Flyers
  • Contact Us

Rape Exceptions   by Andy Peth

9/18/2015

0 Comments

 
Picture
You’ll like me less after reading this.  Why?  Because on rape and abortion, my view pleases nobody. 

On the one hand, I reject the prevailing pro-life stance—the one supporting exceptions for rape.  So I’m not popular.  Sorry, but I hold every unborn child to be equally precious, whether produced by rape or a loving relationship.  No child has committed a crime, and all deserve protection.

But neither do I take the absolutist view, banning all abortions outright and forcing rape victims to bear children.  Though this view would draw fiercely loyal friends, it would hold responsible another innocent victim—the woman—for choices she never made.

And politically, the absolutist strategy carries disastrous consequences, empowering the Democrat Party to kill even more.  It’s true.  Republican bureaucrats can be toothless allies, but they don’t compare to the bloodlust across the aisle.  Not even close.  While the best way to save lives is winning hearts and minds, we must also defeat Democrats at the ballot box.  Failure to do so…well…escalates genocide. 

Thus I have no allies.  I can’t treat children as less precious based on circumstance, and I can’t in good conscience claim to support life with strategy that increases death.  I’m alone.

Here then, is my position:  In cases of rape producing pregnancy, I advocate for life, but I allow for exceptions—and I do all this to save more lives.

Confused?  You won’t be.

The Rape Victim

“Relating” to a rape victim is impossible; even insulting.  The terror she’s endured eclipses anything I can imagine, and her pregnancy means 9 months carrying and giving birth to someone whose DNA is half that of her rapist.  What a daily reminder! Asking a rape victim to save this child means requesting a decision more noble—more heroic—than any I’ll ever know.  So I must be a monster, right?  Advocating for life, I appear callous, like I’m condemning a shell-shocked victim to purgatory.

But the truth is, I don’t condemn her at all.  I’m trying to spare her…from regret.  Real, terrible, lifelong regret.  And this regret won’t come from pro-lifers like me pointing fingers, since I’ll do no such thing.  It will come from within.

Look at a rape victim.  We’ll call her “Anna.”  Wanting to move on, Anna gets an abortion—and hopefully some good counseling.  Things start to improve.  But then, some of Anna’s friends get pregnant, and they begin passing around ultrasounds.  Try though she might, Anna can’t stop some part of her mind from saying, “I had that growing inside me…and I ended it.”

Unable to face the pain, Anna justifies it to herself.  “I never chose to be raped!  There’s no way I was going through 9 months of pain to have his child!  I wasn’t keeping his DNA inside me!  No way!”

More ultrasounds are passed around.  More evidence shows the unborn aren’t just “tissue,” but are growing, human lives.  Videos emerge of Planned Parenthood peddling body parts.  Nervously, Anna ignores it.  Or cries at home, alone.  Or lashes out, echoing feminist mantras.  What she wants most is to tell someone, but she fears she’ll either be rejected or told how right she was—and she’s not up for either scenario.

Plagued by regret, Anna feels alone no matter how many friends are around.  Hopefully, she gets help—and she’ll hear no blame from me—but even a justified act can bring sorrow.

There’s a better path, you know. 

Advocating For Life

Suppose Anna decides to have the child.  Every day, her growing belly serves as a reminder of rape—there’s no avoiding that.  But with friends and support, Anna perseveres.  Having the child, Anna commits an act of heroism I could never equal.  But the best part comes next.

Whether keeping the baby or offering it for adoption, Anna sees children every day.  As they grow, shaped by their surroundings, Anna realizes something:  DNA does not equal character.  DNA does not equal destiny.  And most of all, DNA does not equal blame.  The evil of Anna’s attacker was never his DNA, but rather his choice—and her child is now guided by new choices.  That child isn’t Anna’s attacker at all.  It’s a precious, innocent life—a life she saved.  Rather than struggle with regret, Anna rejoices, knowing she committed a deed of supreme goodness—giving life when she had every reason to flee it.

Wow.  There’s a smile that never fades.  There’s a smile that helps Anna really move on.

Allowing For Exceptions

Okay, imagine Anna hasn’t yet made the decision.  She’s been raped and is pregnant.  Horrified and vulnerable, she’s being told abortion is her only chance at recovery—at happiness.  And here I am, wanting to save both victims—Anna from terrible regret, and her child from death.

What do I do?

Banning options and forcing childbearing on Anna will produce defiance, chasing her into the waiting arms of Democrat butchers.  Now I’ve created an activist.  Now I’ve helped her suppress regrets even further, while pledging loyalty to the Left.  If I keep this up, I’ll produce so many Anna’s, the Party of Death will dominate everywhere, at every level.  Bad strategy carries a heavy, lasting price.

On the other hand, dodging the issue (a favored tactic for some) leaves Anna desperate, thinking there’s no good choice except the escape hatch of abortion.  So my silence is no option, either.

This returns me to my original position:  I advocate for life, but allow for exceptions.  Here’s what I say:

“Anna, you didn’t choose this.  It was forced on you, and I’d never force your decision.  What matters to me is your happiness now, a year from now—the rest of your life.  So please, don’t let your attacker control your decision, either.  Imagine yourself years from now, looking back; and whatever you choose, be the woman now who makes Anna proud then.  Abortion, adoption, maybe raising a child—whatever you choose, what’s growing in you is not your attacker, and you’re no longer a victim.  You’re in control—and that’s as it should be.  The rest of us are just here to help.”

Yes, I could also tell Anna about regrets, science, life, the innocence of the unborn—but she can’t hear those things if I force them.  Don’t forget, Anna just experienced force and control in the worst way, so I must start by setting force and control aside. Now Anna’s safe.  Her needs are put first, and this produces the best chance for saving both her and the child.  Just as important, I prevent the Democrat Party from capitalizing on my missteps, preying on Anna’s misery and escalating its death machine.  It’s hard, but if I abandon strategy, lives will more likely be lost. 

Politically, I still advocate for life, but allow for exceptions.  Why are both important?  Because for starters, nearly every woman could be a rape victim, and saying I’ll ban victims’ options only closes their ears to solutions.  It's like telling a man on a ledge who's ready to jump, "You're not allowed to jump."  Yikes.  Might as well help push. Likewise, failing to proclaim the unborn’s innocence and value in every situation sends a false message—leaving abortion looking like a victimless solution to a heinous crime.

Well, abortion in cases of rape is not victimless.  In fact, there are two victims.  But I can’t stop it with force.  No one can.  For the sake of both mother and child, I must be smart.

No Man’s Land

So that’s my position, and it leaves me with no allies.  Oh well.  There are no easy answers here.  There is only pain, caused by a monster whose removal from the food chain would suit me just fine.  He’s the villain, not the scared mom.  He’s the villain, not the unborn child. 

And for Republicans everywhere, I am the villain—for holding a stance no one likes.  Fair enough.  At some point, we must stop chasing the idol of being liked, and start trying to save lives—effectively.  You see, it’s not enough to care.  It’s not enough to have principles.  For me, those principles must be advanced strategically, in hopes of doing some good, somewhere, somehow, for someone. 

Standing here in no man’s land, I’ll never please either wing of my divided party.  They’re too immersed in finger-pointing; too angry to listen.  I only want to help Anna, along with the precious life within her.  I want to disarm the Party of Death across the aisle—that group which stalks victims for profit and political gain.  I guess in the end, I want to make a real difference, more than I want to make friends.

And if ever I see Anna smiling while watching children play, I’ll know it was worth it.  She matters.  The child matters.  At that moment, even I will matter.

And just like Anna, I’ll have a smile that never fades.


0 Comments

On My Terms    by Andy Peth

9/1/2015

0 Comments

 
Picture
Good news!  I’m a Conservative!  I want to control my own life, not yours…

…so say what you want!

Isn’t that relaxing?  Isn’t it great knowing there are people who won’t sue you for offending them?  Yes, we exist!  I don’t censor you with political correctness.  I don’t report you to Human Resources.  I don’t demand you fill my day with like-minded words, and you know why?  Because propping up my comfort is not your job.  Worry about your own comfort.  Mine’s covered.

I’m Christian, but you needn’t speak Christianese (though I’m blessed by your thoughtful spirit when you try…and yes, Jesus did score that touchdown through me…I’m just a vessel…).  I’m a white male, but you needn’t fit the term “militia” into every sentence (we do that enough at our meetings).

I’m straight, but you needn’t avoid the term, “homophobia.”  Though moronic, it sounds kind of cool, like “home ownership,” or “suburbia.”  Yep, fun word.  I like to say it while listening to jazz music: “Homophooooobiiiiaaahhh…yeah, dig it…”  In fact, they should have used it in Star Wars: 

“Luke, I am your homophooooobiiiiaaahhh…yeah, dig it…”

“No!  That’s not true!  That’s impossible!  I don’t even know what that means!”

Point is, I want you to speak on your terms, not mine.  You’re among friends here.  So be yourself.

Just do me one favor, okay?  Let me be myself, too.  Let me speak on my terms.  Let me discuss topics freely, without weighing every phrase to appease some member of the speech police.  And on what topic has that freedom been most denied?  No contest—illegal immigration.

Verbal Bigots

Let’s look at Fox News’s Geraldo Rivera and Univision’s Jorge Ramos.

When Geraldo omits “illegal” during debates on illegal immigration, he displays racial bias.  Insisting we use the term, “undocumented,” Geraldo willfully ignores how it is illegal to cross our border without documentation.  “Undocumented” means “illegal,” and Geraldo knows it.  But out of allegiance to his race (a state I abhor for any group), Geraldo wants this topic discussed on his terms.  Wow.  More loyal to his race than to honesty, Geraldo leaves interviewers dancing around jargon rather than discussing solutions—which he never offers, anyway. 

Geraldo’s a classic speech cop, so you can’t just be yourself around him—at least not on this topic.  You can’t just talk plainly.  Like the liberal at work itching to call Human Resources, Geraldo seeks to alter your very speech.  It’s a power play; a control device.  Most of us see conversations as chances to learn and share, but leftists like Geraldo think, “Dance puppet, dance.”

What a racist pig—yes, I said “pig.”  Geraldo deserves it.  After all, if I pushed people to reword sentences out of respect for my whiteness—and if I did it to downplay white crime—what would that make me?  Ummm…gee, let’s see…a racist pig!

Meanwhile, Jorge Ramos parrots the protest, “No person is ‘illegal!’”—yet this racist knows full well no one is being called an illegal person.  They are being called illegal immigrants, because it is their unlawful entrance to our country—not their act of being human—that is illegal.  But Jorge doesn’t care.  If someone immigrates illegally, bigots like him and Geraldo commence juggling terms—all to hide lawbreaking by their preferred brand.

Memo to Geraldo and Jorge:  I’ve never re-worked terminology to help those who look like me.  Never.  Why?  Because normal people don’t do that, you racist pigs!  Don’t lecture me on what words I can use while you protect your “kind.”  “Illegal Immigrants” are people who immigrate illegally—period! 

Likewise, “anchor baby” denotes giving birth in America to anchor a child and yourself in this nation—it is a perfectly designed term.  It rolls off the tongue with purpose.  Everyone should use it:

“Luke, I am your anchor baby!”

“No!  That’s not true!  That’s impossible!  Like seriously, it isn’t possible!”

America Finds Freedom…In a Blowhard

Be honest.  Aren’t you sick of liberals trying to control speech?  Of course you are!

This is why Donald Trump has become so popular: He mocks the speech police.  Donald Trump is that rare example of a blowhard at the end of the bar who, without warning, says something lucid; something coherent.  Amidst touting flat taxes where the rich pay more (?) and saying Kuwait should send us half their oil—forever—Donald suddenly gives voice to our deepest frustration:

“No, I’ll use the word, ‘anchor baby.’”

“Wait, what?  What was that?”

(Staring back into his beer, the blowhard mumbles)  “Wife left me…I come here ta think...damn kids…”

“Oh, I thought I heard—”

“…and if someone comes here illegally, they’re an illegal immigrant!”

“Wait, what?”

“Kuwait…half their oil…damn kids…”

Yes, Trump’s points are hard to follow—like tracking butterflies in a tornado—but do you remember his news conference where Jorge Ramos imploded?  Interrupting other reporters who had waited their turn, Univision’s anchor/activist (can I say that?) got served.  “Siddown!” said Trump, showing no deference to Ramos’s race.  “Go back to Univision.”

Priceless.  A bigot barged in line—rudely—and got treated like any other line-jumper.  Somehow, the guy at the end of the bar spoke forth what we all wished we could say.

So, is Trump reading our minds?  Nope, he’s just arrogant and doesn’t care—but the results are still sweet.  Either way, the very kind of entitled racist most of us bitterly accommodate got smacked down.  I had to see a surgeon afterward; you know, to remove the smile from my face.

My Inner Voice—In Trump Form

Here we see Donald’s great source of power.  In a nation where ever-shifting speech codes suffocate reason, this guy comes along and mocks our tormenters.  The results?  He’s not a Conservative, but Conservatives love him.  He can’t recall a single scripture, but Christians love him.  He’s about as Tea Party as an Occupy protester, but Tea Partiers love him.

This is how much we hate the speech police.  This is how deeply we resent Geraldo’s and Jorge’s who badger us away from plain discourse—all to benefit their race.  Their creepy, bigoted tones irritate us so intensely, we walk right by better candidates and into the arms of a blowhard.  We no longer care if the country runs well; we’re past that now.  We just want these people shut up.

So what about me?  Do I like Trump?  You bet I do.

Donald speaks to that person in me—in many of us—who feels suffocated under a nation of self-appointed speech police.  Donald doesn’t care what we say.  Donald doesn’t sue us for offending him.  And better still, Donald taunts those who do.  Listening to Donald Trump, I feel like for the first time in decades, I’m coming up for air out of merciless waters, gasping for breath and squinting in the light…

…and it doesn’t matter that he only accepts me because he has no standards.

With Donald Trump as president, virtually all his promises will go unfulfilled, but that’s okay.  Why?  Because at long last, I can be myself again.  Say what you want about that guy at the end of the bar, but at least he leaves me alone.  He’s mumbling gibberish, sometimes for hours…sometimes in front of huge crowds…but that’s just his way.  And with Trump as president, I too can finally start speaking the way I was meant to speak:

On my terms.


0 Comments

    Author

    Archives

    August 2020
    July 2020
    June 2020
    May 2020
    March 2020
    February 2020
    January 2020
    December 2019
    August 2019
    June 2019
    February 2019
    January 2019
    December 2018
    November 2018
    May 2018
    August 2017
    July 2017
    April 2017
    September 2016
    July 2016
    June 2016
    May 2016
    April 2016
    March 2016
    February 2016
    January 2016
    December 2015
    November 2015
    October 2015
    September 2015
    August 2015
    July 2015
    June 2015
    May 2015
    April 2015
    March 2015
    February 2015
    January 2015
    December 2014
    November 2014
    October 2014
    September 2014
    August 2014
    July 2014
    April 2014
    January 2014
    December 2013
    October 2013
    September 2013
    August 2013
    July 2013
    May 2013
    April 2013
    March 2013
    February 2013
    November 2012
    October 2012
    September 2012
    August 2012
    July 2012
    June 2012
    April 2012
    March 2012
    February 2012
    January 2012
    November 2011

    Categories

    All

    RSS Feed

Proudly powered by Weebly