The Antichristian Phenomenon

This is an anecdote about some protesters in front of Planned Parenthood today.  Hilarity and ignorance ensues.

Preface for those who don’t know about Planned Parenthood of America (PPA), or just don’t know that much about it, maybe with misconceptions:
PPA is a nationwide organization with the goal of promoting sexual health, birth control, controlling the spread of STD’s, and confidential health care for women and men.  It was originally founded with Eugenic-based goals in mind, but in its state today it stands as one of the few rabidly pro-choice bastions in the country.  Through PPA, you can get a perscription for all types of birth control and family planning options, as well as emergency contraception.  You can also have your yearly gynocologist visits, and there are men’s healthcare services too.  However, you can also get abortions there, which makes it a huge target for the Pro-Lifers and Christian organizations.  They like to paint PPA in harsh colors, saying that it promotes killing children and murder, is the “world’s largest abortion chain”, and ignoring anything that doesn’t promote their own pet theory.  I go there because it is friendly, helpful, confidential, and I believe that it is one of the few organizations in the nation that deeply and honestly cares about its mission and puts patient healthcare and well being first.  Not many places get that kind of support from me, and despite the bad rap PPA gets, what you may have heard, I can assure you that its all propaganda. Now, on to the story:

This morning I got up early to try and get a walk-in at PPM.  The ride down was uneventful, but the weather was magnificent.  Fall is starting to emerge in a tangible way, making for excellent biking weather and a bit of optimism, despite waking up at 6 am to turn in everyones’ rent checks.  As I locked my beater up at Shaw’s across the street, I noticed a wooden sign propped up in front of the curving facade of the Planned Parenthood building.  There was a picture of a baby’s smiling face with the word “LIFE” printed in large bold yellow lettering underneath.  An old lady was milling about, waiting for something.  I scoffed at the sign and went in to wait.  Everything went smoothly and I got a nice chunk of Age of Reason read.  Then I went to leave.

{For extra irony, keep in mind that I’m wearing a Necrophobic shirt with a flaming church on the front (This album cover).}

There were three protesters, yelling to passerbys, thrusting forth pamphlets, and a model of a developing baby next to their silly LIFE sign.  One of them saw me leave the building, and I wasn’t three steps away from the door when she jumped me.  She was easily well over 65, had one yellowed buck front tooth missing, and a frizzy, curly mop of hair.  Her hand was full of rosaries and pamplets and she looked at me with a clear sense of purpose, even with the misty, shallow eyes of a brainwashed sheep.

“Please, take one, they’re no charge, hand made by a 97 year old woman, you can’t say no to a 97 year old woman!”  She lifted the rosaries in her hand slightly.  I felt a twinge of pity and disgust at the same time, thinking of a nearly century-old woman stringing beads for these people to promote their mislead, ignorant cause.  What a waste.

“I… I’m not Christian,” I said; the most polite thing that came to mind.  I had set it in my mind in the waiting room that I’d engage these people if I had time, but waves of revulsion were churning in my stomach, urging me to get on my bike and pedal away as fast as I could.  As I tried to leave it at that, she tried another approach, I presume the more “secular” one.  It was one of these types of sappy stories (One,Two) where the developing fetus is personified and the rational skills of a child many many times their age is juxtaposed on them.  Shock value and emotional games, that’s all they are.  I had to read one aloud to my CCD kids once and pretend to be Pro-Life… nearly made me sick.

As she began to say what the pamphlet was about, I interrupted her to tell her I’d already read it, and explained why I thought it was nonsense.  “…children do not develop complex thought and long term memory until they are over a year old, this narrative is–”

“Well you should look at this, St Rachel’s.  Its a group for women who have had abortions and are trying to cope.  My friend had two abortions and she really regretted it [me: maybe she shouldn't have made that choice... *thinking* Holy shit, two?? Didn't she learn the first time!?] so she went to a priest and he told her to name the children, pray to them in heaven, and apologize, then pray to God, ask his forgiveness and for help.”

“Well, I’m not going to go to any priest, what about women who don’t believe in that sort of thing, don’t they get a support group?” I scoffed, even more repulsed.  Not that I intend on needing any sort of abortion support group, it just bothers me everything like that is geared towards God-fearing Christians.

She seemed confused that I would ask that sort of thing, I can’t recall her reply right now but it resulted in me angrily retorting, “Well, I don’t believe in your God!”

Her response to this blatant outburst was to say, “Well what you need to do if you don’t believe is sit down, and be open, and say ‘God, I know you’re not likely there but I’m listening’, and wait for him to reveal himself to you…”

“Why would I pray to something that isn’t there??!!” I scoffed, giving her a confused glare.

She spread her arms wide and began waving at the people and the street, “how can you say he isn’t there, when all you need to do is look around!”  As she met my gaze her eyes were wide and childlike, there was a bit of wonder, vignetted by a shroud of ignorance.  Unfortunately for her, she picked the wrong person to start down that path with…

“Look lady, stop, you’re using a logical fallacy called “Begging the Question”, you can’t state both your conclusion and answer in the same–”

“I WILL WIN THIS ARGUMENT!”

While I had no doubts in my ability to completely trash any argument that this lady might fish up, I wondered if she had any idea at this point who she’d picked to take on.  What would be her cop out?  I snickered, “Oh? How?”

“I WILL PRAY FOR YOU!”

This did not have the desired effect.  I began to laugh.

“What is your name so I can pray for you?!”

I looked her in the eyes and said, “Don’t waste your breath.”

I have to give her some credit though, she knew I was being serious and wasn’t going to tell her, so she went along with it, waving her arms and praying/yelling as though “Dont Waste Your Breath” was actually my name.

“OH GOD, PLEASE TAKE DON’T WASTE YOUR BREATH IN, I KNOW HOW MUCH YOU LOVE HER AND WANT TO HOLD HER CLOSE TO YOUR CHEST! *etc etc*”

As she obviously realised that I was a lost cause, she tried to wrap it up with that, telling me how much she and God “loved me”, then we began to go our separate ways.  I had to have the last word of course, and say what I really wanted to say to these absurd fools, thinking they’re doing good as they bind us head and foot.

“STOP TRYING TO TAKE AWAY WOMEN’S RIGHTS”, I screamed, so that the people nearby could hear a voice of protest over the drone of morning traffic.  She called back again that God loved me, and tried to get away by leaping on some poor passerbys, who tried to ignore her and refuse her pamplets and beads.

As I watched for another short moment, neither she or her partners successfully handed out a single pamplet.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, September 30th, 2008 at 10:19 pm and is filed under Culture, Religion. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.