Life, Where Is Thy Sting? - The American Spectator | USA News and Politics
Life, Where Is Thy Sting?
by

A husband comes home to find the kitchen sink has broken and the entire kitchen is flooded. In the midst of the wreckage stands his beleaguered wife, tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Stop crying, honey,” he says. “You are only making it worse.”

This grim jest captures the experience of those sincere compassionate souls who devote themselves to the battle for human life; against euthanasia, against assisted suicide, and, most poignantly, against abortion. The larger war is already lost, and millions of babies will be murdered each year. This daunting reality makes it hard to find the moxie to fight the small legislative and public policy battles. Those tussles require just as much energy, yet all we can hope to save are here a few, there a few.

The newest revelation about the War on Babies comes at the end of a three-year undercover operation to identify Planned Parenthood policies and methodologies concerning the organs of aborted children. It has long been known — but difficult to prove — that abortionists have been supplementing their income by selling body parts of their victims to — wait for it — science! While the young lady who got snookered into the procedure is off somewhere wracked by trauma, the nice doctor and the nice nurse in the white scrubs are busy on Ebay selling a kidney hither, a liver thither… and of course two corneas free with orders of one thousand dollars or more.

Somehow this impresses humanity as more ghoulish than the actual abortion. A doctor can kill a hundred infants a day and elicit nary a blink in reaction. But if you publish a picture of a heart in a jar in a refrigerator next to his YoCrunch granola-and-yogurt lunch, he will morph overnight into a universally despised figure. So in the battle for hearts and minds, those images are — you should excuse the expression — gold.

This investigative sting of Planned Parenthood used its years of preparation to put down footprints of a fictional lab which then sent representatives to negotiate with the Madison South Health Center of Wisconsin, a Planned Parenthood satellite in Madison, Wisconsin. At issue was how much those itty-bitty pieces of human flesh would cost. The official who meets them for lunch, unaware of hidden cameras, is making a sales pitch of the “free plus a hundred dollars for postage and handling” variety we have all come to recognize from purveyors of baldness, impotence, and dementia remedies.

In the course of the conversation the friendly medical practitioner does a little instructional-qua-promotional explaining how much work goes into preserving the product so it can be delivered intact. She helpfully explains that it is not so simple to fill a kidney order or a liver order because the abortionist must exercise caution to “crush above and crush below” lest the desired organ is threshed rather than harvested. There is a certain creepy relish that attends the delivery of these details.

The defenders have already filled the moats around their fortresses with fresh talking points. No, the lady is not insensitive to matters of human life, she simply evinces an air of dispassion which medical professionals employ as a defense mechanism, burying the emotional beneath the technical. Of course she was not really selling body parts, she was merely arranging for their free delivery, and the shipping charge is a nominal fee that should not be seen as a quid pro quo. Yadda yadda yadda bureaucratspeak consultantspeak apparatchikspeak… we get it.

All this brings us swimming back into the sea of tears. Somehow with all our education, with all our development, with all our progress, we have succumbed to a culture that allows the culling of young lives from the herd. The only way to reclaim our old souls, I fear, is if we can muster the courage to protect these young bodies. Parenthood must be planned before conception.

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