An interesting discussion came up over dinner last night, as we were sitting with Tessa’s sister and her family (and, of course, the delightful Kelly W.) – namely, our niece wondered if we would mind switching the table conversation to abortion. Always ready to tear into a ripe sociological subject with the wide eyeballs of a lion ripping into a gazelle, we told her to go for it.
Our niece, whom I’ll call “K” and is 20, said that she’s been talking to a right-wing friend of hers about abortion, and basically got out-flanked argument-wise. She wanted to be reminded why we are all pro-choice, and to give her some encouragement, because arguing with this guy has been giving her fits.
An hour later, we were all discussing the finer points of our own personal feelings – there are always the pro-choice folks who say “I abhor abortion, but I stop short of telling others what to do” and those who say “thank god for abortion! YAAAY!” Speaking as someone who participated in one roughly sixteen years ago, you can probably guess on which side of the spectrum I landed.
I don’t really give a shit about the “when does life begin” and “potential for a human equals a human” discussions and the other Dred Scott Decision bullshit that conservatives like to bandy about, nor am I particularly interested in what religion OR science has to offer. All I know is that when you outlaw abortions, women die. Period. They will kill themselves trying to have one, whether they apply some homemade trick, or go somewhere for a messy infection. And when they go, the fetus goes with them.
Right-wingers have a hard time with this one. That’s where I usually stop arguing, because my other argument is a little more ethereal – basically, I feel like pro-lifers are far more interested in keeping women domesticated and telling them to fucking SHUT UP ALREADY than they are in the health of the fetus – but let’s discuss that some other time, shall we?
The upshot, stepping back, was this: the Internet