this little moon

If anyone actually reads this, I apologize for being incredibly uninteresting lately. Hope my occasional re-blog is sufficient… It’s kind of obnoxious- I’ve got tons of freetime and creative energy, but absolutely no inspiration as to what to write/create! Graaaah! And what little I have to say fits nicely into 140 characters, so even that ends up on twitter, which I’ve stopped importing, because I bore myself. The end.

eewolfe:

I’m tired of the news and the hero worship and the media and everyone who is ten inches from stabbing me in the throat every time I want to speak my mind. You people can’t comment, so this is as safe a place as any I suppose.

It’s true. I can’t even muster much remorse at this point. If you knew what it was like to see his face on ever paper, on every webpage, when you had an opinion of him like mine, you’d be disgusted too. It’d be like if Bush was murdered and everyone did nothing but post mushy poems about how wonderful and charming he was and how much he will be missed and loved. About how the wars he started were great. How going after those terrorists and fighting over oil was an excellent idea! And waterboarding, oh man! Will we miss that!
It’s like that, to some degree.

I don’t care that I’m not part of the helpful, supportive Wichita everyone is patting on the back. I’m just doing my own thing as I always do, watching dryly, staying quiet—-until now. I still hold true to my anti-soapbox post, but you can hate me if you want, unfollow me if it’d make you feel better. I just don’t care anymore.
The entire world is watching and encouraging and writing love letters to the man. Let them. I will not sign it. No one deserves to be murdered and no family deserves to be put through the trauma that this one is. But there is too much blood in the air for me to forget. No right is more important than life, be it the doctor’s or those of his “patients.”

Yet another analogy
If women were suddenly to become insignificant in society (like they used to be and still are in some countries) and the Powers That Be wrote a law that said: “Men can kill their wives if they are tired of them and wish to start over,” and then a doctor popped up and said, “Pay me a lot of money and let me kill them for you, safely, humanely. You’re going to do it anyway,” does that make the doctor’s deeds right? Just because the law and society devalue women, does that make them non-people whose lives can be tossed away in the name of being able to say, “I have the Right!”? Babies will be women. They will be men. I simply cannot devalue their lives for the sake of “Being able to choose.”

And this isn’t a black and white argument, I know that. Amy makes very fine points, and I’ve watched enough Boston Legal to grasp the pro-choice side of the spectrum quite clearly (and by clearly I mean that it makes everything even more unclear and even more difficult.) But in the end, I would hope that I would be willing to sacrifice my rights to save someone else’s life. Christ did it for me, and more. It’s the least I could do if it meant we had one more artist, one more storyteller, one more mathematician, one more car repairman, one more singer, one more doctor, physicist, policeman…one more.

I simply cannot support his ability to ignore this. He was probably a good doctor and a caring man, but death is death, no matter what title you give the action that leads up to it. All of this is not easy for me to shrug off. I won’t hold a grudge against him and I forgive him (though I’m sure you may say there is nothing to forgive), but I will not sing his praises. My heart simply will not allow it. But please, carry on with your grieving. I will not stop you, nor do I want to. It’s your right. I’m simply exercising my own right to choose.

But that’s just one woman’s opinion.
Let the fuming begin.

—-
Something else to think about:
If I—-or any of the other 100 pro-life people in that room with me—-had actually made the jury for Tiller’s most recent trial, we might have been able to swing the vote and he would have been sent to prison, which, if I recall, is a lot better than being dead.
One person matters.

Well said, sistagirl.