Your
Right to Swing A Punch...Your
Right to Swing A Punch...
Gun Control What's to think about? Guns are for death. Thousands of Americans are killed each year. Thousands. Where did you go to high school? Think of everyone who was a student there, everyone who taught there, everyone who worked there, and every immediate family member of those people. Now. BANG! They're all dead, and then some. What the FUCK is the problem? Other people in other countries live without carrying death in a holster. In fact, other people in other countries LIVE. The murder rate and the crime rate in any country with gun control is so far below the US stats...what's to GET, people? "Constitutional right! Constitutional right!" Constitutional wrong, baby. The right to bear arms applied when we were a nation at war on our soil, at best. What, does the "pursuit of happiness" give you the right to drive drunk, hit the oncoming car, kill the four year old child, and get on with pursuing more happiness? Tell me how happy you'll be once you take away somebody's child. If you do, I damn you to an eternity of seeing that mother's eyes staring at you, into you, through you. Enjoy.
My nose, your fist. Go away.
Abortion Here's the scoop. Freedom of choice. It lets me choose my morality, it lets you choose your morality. Right to life. It lets me choose your morality. Whose life? Is it illegal for me to chop off my finger? Is it illegal for me to cut my hair? No. Those cells are part of my body and I get to decide if I want to keep 'em or not. If the fetus can't survive without cannibalizing my body, then it's part of me, just like a kidney, a lung, a fingernail. When we get around to perfect a mechanical womb and safe, reversible birth control methods, I'll reconsider the morality of abortions, because then people will have the choice to become pregnant. As it stands, if you have a dick, you have no say in my right to an abortion. Not that you don't have a right to a concern about the INDIVIDUAL you got pregnant, but that you don't have a right to decide whether women have legal rights to their bodies. What if women got together and formed a voting block that called for bills requiring that all men have one testicle chopped off at age 18 because, after all, you don't really need two, eh? Are you gonna let me vote for that? I thought not. When men can become pregnant, we will get foolproof birth control and abortions on demand.
Your fist, my womb. Go away.
Death Penalty An eye for an eye may work. Even a tooth for a tooth. (When's the last time you heard of a tooth-related crime, anyhow?) A life for a life doesn't work. If you commit your crime, I want you to live long and hard and remember why you are where you are, day in, day out. And yes, I want to see you sweat for your daily bread. No, prisons shouldn't be hellholes, but yes, while you're there, you better be working a 40 hour week and earning your G.E.D., your Associates, hell, your second Doctorate, in the remainder of the week. Learn an honest trade. Should you make money from your 40 hour week? Only if there's money left after all incarceration expenses are paid each week, month, year. Should you die? Not even if you want to, killer.
Your fist hit my nose. Remember what you did.
Religion Hey. Some people need it, some people want it, some people wouldn't touch it with a ten foot pole. If we didn't have religion, we wouldn't be where we are today, for better and for worse. No holy wars, no migration and intermingling of cultures. No Inquisition, no loss of brilliant scientists, artists, etc. No Nazi Germany. No loss of millions. (Remember the high school concept? Take all of the people who've ever attended your high school since it was built. Add in all the people you've ever been introduced to in your lifetime. Take every immediate relative of each of those people. Now quintuple it. In the next two years, they're all gone, and then some.) No religion, no great works of literature. No reasons for things we can't explain. Gone are all the great works of art borne of divine inspiration. Do I believe in a higher power? None of your damned business. Do I care what you believe? Only that you're happy believing it and that whatever you do to worship follows the same basic rule:
Pray for my soul if you must, but not where I have to listen. Don't convert, pervert, or divert me and I won't avert you. Your fist, my nose.
Sexual Preference Genetics, upbringing, what does it matter? I like broccoli but I don't like beets. You like beets but you don't like liver. We can live with that. I don't serve you liver after I've offered and you've refused, you don't serve me beets, likewise. Am I flattered that you thought enough of me to think I might like beets? Sure. Why wouldn't I be flattered? Hell, maybe Fred likes beets and liver. Some dinner, huh? Just shut up, remember what a nice guy Fred is, and let him eat his beets and liver in peace. It's not like the world is going to run out of beets OR liver anytime soon. What's my sexual preference? Again, none of your business. Oh, okay. If you must know. "Yes." Yes, I prefer sex.
Your fist, my love. Not gonna happen.
Birth ControlGet it, use it. In fact, put it in drinking water and make everyone take a counter-agent when they're ready to plan for a child. No need to tempt the fist of fate. There are enough children left behind by people who chose (see "CHOICE") not to abort, as was their right, but who haven't been taken care of by the millions of "responsible" adults in the world. Don't worry about my cells when you have a whole child to care about first. Oh, yeah. If it's not in the water, make it FREE, and make it 100% EFFECTIVE and make it AVAILABLE ALL THE TIME to ANYONE of ANY AGE!
Stop that fist in the making.
On Being
"PC"Check it out: I am not now, nor have I ever been, a "woperone," nor am I one of several "wymyn." I will happily be a "Chairman of the Board" some day. "Madam Chairwoman" is more insulting, not less. Heck, don't even GO near "Madam Chairwoperone!" Were I to become a cop, I would be a police officer, not a police man, having not the appropriate genitalia for the job. However, should you choose to call me, a friend, an enemy, or even my cat, George, a "nigger," a "spic," a "kike," a "honky," a "dyke," or any other epithet that classifies me or that other being in a negative, stereotypical manner, while in my presence, your validity as a human being will drop several stories in my book. Oh, and don't get upset when I don't laugh at your joke about the Pollack, the Jew, and the Wop who went into the bar. I won't. Let the ACLU have a field day on my ass.
Your fist, my brain.