It recently dawned on me that the ubiquitous flow of information we encounter daily – i.e., words – is akin to getting bombarded by little digital BBs. Most of them are a nuisance, some of them stingers, a few instructive, but in total they are a crushing weight that can be both suffocating and exhausting. The additional downside of these BBs is that many of them are blasted out by biased media providers (on television, print, internet) who are driven more by agenda than journalism. In many cases, truth then becomes a victim of propaganda. As one surveys this data landscape, it appears that most of the BBs are owned by the left.
Apparently, from the reaction of some people on the receiving end of this agenda driven onslaught, the media BBs must be coated with an anti-logic sealant that immediately transforms your rational human being to a reticent inquisitor or babbling fool. When these poor creatures become triggered by a magic word or phrase – pick one, plenty of candidates out there – like crazed zombies, they become vitriol-spouting, hate-spitting and blood thirsty.
In short, let the apocalypse begin.
So, what is one supposed to do? Well, I escape. I like to get into my favorite bug out vehicle and go camping. Before my recent trip I thought I would ask Donald and Joe to come along – yep, those guys. It’s amazing what a cooler full of free steaks and beer (including non-alcoholic for Donald) can accomplish. I suggested they leave their minions behind so we could talk turkey and in exchange, I would endorse one of them for President. I’m basically independent, not enamored with either party and would change a lot of the ways our government does business – if only I were master of the galaxy. But I’m just the host and inconsequential. Granted, my endorsement is worth squat, but a night out with the boys under the stars would generate headlines and maybe some votes could be swayed due to my decision.
I guaranteed them both that my mind would be open, but I wanted to flush out who they were and what their policies would be. The only ground rules were to bring a side dish, chop wood, clean up after themselves, and don’t complain about tents, air mattresses or trips to the woods. Also, don’t pack an attitude. No phones either. Just station a drone overhead to make sure the conversation remains civil. If people start waving steak knives, send in the Marines. They both accepted.
Let’s start with the major issues. A recent Pew Research Center survey of registered voters identified the major issues in 2020. There are twelve of them. In descending order of importance, they are the economy, health care, supreme court appointments, coronavirus, violent crime, foreign policy, gun policy, race and ethnic inequality, immigration, economic inequality, climate change and abortion. I’ve seen other surveys that have some variation, but I’ll go with the Pew list. Good, we would have something to talk about. I just needed to keep Donald and Joe focused which in itself should presumably earn me a MacArthur “genius” grant.
From a historical perspective, this election has to be in the top five. America is teetering between two world views as represented by the political parties and the contrast is stunning. The world is complex as are the issues and a lot of very smart people are diametrically opposed to one another. So, what is the decision tree, the critical path that allows one to make an informed decision especially since most of us are just trying to survive. Is it just a matter of checking boxes where you agree and then add them up and vote accordingly? In that scenario, that presupposes that each issue has equal weight. But should they? Isn’t there rather a hierarchy of issues?
In my humble opinion, there is.
Other than Donald demanding a chilled Waterford Crystal mug for his beer – he didn’t get one – and Joe’s occasional muttering to squirrels, I can safely say that that I haven’t experienced any PTSD since camping with them. I should note that I’m not too keen to do it again however, as neither one of them could be characterized as fun dudes; needy to say the least. As I listened carefully to what each one had to say on all the issues, as I cooked the steaks and served Coronas and O’Doul’s, I had this gnawing feeling that one specific issue could likely be the determining factor for me. Clearly, America has a significant to-do list over the next number of years in so many areas. One can only pray that it’s focused on all its citizens’ well-being and guided by love, whether it’s tough love or not.
The last discussion point in our evening was abortion, the twelfth most important issue according to Pew. As I leaned back in my chair and stared at the stars, I thought back to the beginning of 2019. There was a defining moment for me that signaled, perhaps, the beginning of the end of the great American experiment. All civilizations fail, it’s just that I’m in no hurry for America to suffer the same fate. On a forbidding morning in January, I wondered if we were finally at our tipping point.
As it happened that day in Albany, another endorsement of child murder by the New York governor was met with wide smiles, hoots, hollers and high fives, and then made law. These legislators – a high percentage of women by the way – took abortion to another level. They decreed that you can now terminate a pregnancy in the third trimester under very liberal conditions. Lawmakers in other states were so inspired by this grotesque new law that they quickly began to draft mimicking language.
I shut my eyes and imagined these lawmakers figuratively getting down on their knees, within inches of their innocent victims, and whispering to each of the 239 children who would be sacrificed that day in New York.
“Sorry kid, you’re inconvenient… enjoy the ride.”
Each one of these newly crowned lifetakers then stood at the top of their Mayan-like temple – grinning like a Cheshire cat – and kicked a helpless baby down the bloody steps into a heap below. As the sun rises on the next day, the vicious cycle would begin once again. Out of sight. Out of mind. Serial killing memorialized and worshiped like a golden calf.
Trump’s ego is disruptive, his character flawed, his leadership wanting, and I don’t like him – but he’s not insane. Ultimately though, he is pro-life. For that reason alone, he would get my vote. Even if Biden was spectacularly aligned with me on the eleven other issues, his absurd embrace of abortion disqualifies him. It’s an indefensible position that results in the death of unique, precious and blameless souls. I just can’t get around that.
There it is. In my view, abortion is the singular issue that is most corruptive of the American psyche. Our founding principles worked magnificently, our Union became great but our very foundation is now been undermined by an incessant blood river flowing beneath us. Imagine a family that callously kills its firstborn every generation. Would that evil dynamic foster an unyielding moral code for its members? No way. Would it ingrain the capacity to do right when the culture is telling you to do the opposite? Inconceivable.
I can’t imagine anything more radical than the targeting and destruction of our vulnerable children. As this extremism is lauded by a Democratic party that may soon waltz into power – who will reinforce their pro-abortion zealotry with their Supreme Court replacement of Ginsburg – they clearly will have no moral boundaries associated with any of the issues that will define our lives. Radical will become the norm. The overwhelming leftist media BBs will have done their damage and won the prize – and America will fracture even more on its slide to historic ruin.
