The debate over abortion is complicated by two undeniable rights: the right to life and the right of a woman to control her own body.
We right-to-lifers (well, this right-to-lifer anyway) weigh the arguments, and come down on the side of the feminists who demand that abortion be safe, legal, and rare. Abortion will continue, but with restrictions. That seems to us (me) the only solution that honors both rights (or dishonors them equally). Does the right-to-terminate crowd make the same intellectual efforts at compromise of the uncompromisable?
If you would like to be filled with despair for the prospects of democracy, spend a few minutes attempting to decipher the psephological musings of Lena Dunham, the distinctly unappealing actress commissioned by Planned Parenthood to share with her presumably illiterate following “5 Reasons Why I Vote (and You Should, Too).” That’s 21st-century U.S. politics in miniature: a half-assed listicle penned by a half-bright celebrity and published by a gang of abortion profiteers.
You think that’s strong? Grab your Ray-Bans (with UVA and UVB protection):
A people mature enough to manage the relationship between procreative input and procreative output without recourse to the surgical dismemberment of living human organisms probably would not find much of interest in the work of Miss Dunham. But we are a nation of adult children so horrified by the prospect of actual children that we put one in five of them to death for such excellent reasons as the desire to fit nicely into a prom dress.
It’s not for nothing that, on the precipice of 30, Miss Dunham is famous for a television series called Girls rather than one called Women. She might have gone one better and called it Thumbsuckers. (The more appropriate title Diapers would terrify her demographic.)
I’m of a generation that went to college with women. If you referred to an 18 year-old coed as a girl, and you had your balls scorched with a blow torch. (Refer to her as a coed and you got away with a warning kick in said scrotum.) One learned to adjust, and those lessons stayed with one for a lifetime.
Have I lived too long?
Miss Dunham and likeminded celebrities think of voting in terms of their sex lives. Miss Dunham, in an earlier endorsement of Barack Obama, compared voting in the presidential election to losing one’s virginity — you want it to be someone special.
“I wore fishnets and a little black dress to vote,” she writes, “then walked around with a spring in my slinky step. It lasted for days. I can summon it when I’m blue. It’s more effective than exercise or ecstasy or cheesecake.” And that of course is the highest purpose of our ancient constitutional order: to provide adult children with pleasures exceeding those of cheesecake or empathogenic phenethylamines.
Miss Dunham’s “all about me!” attitude toward the process of voting inevitably extends to the content of what she votes for, which is, in her telling, mostly about her sex life. Hammering down hard on the Caps Lock key, she writes: “The crazy and depressing truth is that there are people running for office right now who could actually affect your life. PARTICULARLY your sex life. PARTICULARLY if you’re a woman. Yup.”
Those of us who have been working against various mandates imposed by the Affordable Care Act are as a matter of fact attempting to extricate ourselves from involvement in Lena Dunham’s sex life, the details of which we would gratefully leave to her own idiosyncratic management. It is the so-called Affordable Care Act that has involved us in subsidizing birth control, abortifacients, surgical abortions, and who knows what else, for the strong, powerful, self-actualized American woman who cannot figure out how to walk into Walgreens, lay down the price of a latte, and walk out with her own birth-control pills, no federal intervention necessary. The very conservative editors of this magazine are in fact trying to make it easier for them to do so with over-the-counter birth control. I suspect that Miss Dunham does not know very many conservatives, so allow me to pass along the message: We really, truly, sincerely do not wish to be involved in your sex life.
Are you listening Sandra Fluke? (Very doubtful.)
I followed my feminist instructions in no small part because I wanted to get into their feminist pants. As some of my much-desired prey would be grandmothers by now, I am more inclined to be swayed by if not Ms. Dunham, at least some of her castmates:
Yet I am not. Juvenile behavior is never sexy, no matter how “easy” it may be.