Re: The Mass Murderer

by Michael Walsh

Where were conservatives when the “Dr.” Kermit Gosnell story first broke? In addition to Mark Steyn, here’s where I was — right here in the pages of NRO — on February 7, 2011, in a piece aptly entitled, “The Charnel House of Blackmun.”

It was the great moral struggle of my father’s generation. When they started out, few gave them a snowball’s chance in hell of accomplishing their noble and selfless goals of making this a better, happier, fairer, more tolerant, more compassionate world. They battled ignorance, fear, and, worst of all, the ingrained prejudices of bitter clingers, but they never gave up. They took the fight all the way to the Supreme Court — and, in a landmark decision, they won. Indeed, we speak of it to this day in the hushed, reverent tones others might use for, say, the Holy Koran.

I’m talking, of course, about Roe v. Wade, which enshrined a Woman’s Right to Choose as the most sacred secular sacrament in our canon of unholy rites. For us, a day without an abortion somewhere in this great land is like a day without a sermon on climate change: The world is a drab and bitter place, in which the cheery hosannas of the unborn dead cannot be heard, praising the glory of a Gaian world they will never pollute with their presence. Forget that Baudelaire dude and the gimp, Verbal Kint: The Master’s greatest trick was not convincing the world he didn’t exist, but persuading women that it was morally affirmative to murder their own children. Medea, take a bow!

Whoops, my bad! That wasn’t me, that was my character, David Kahane, helpfully giving NR’s wingnuts the leftist perspective on outright baby murder. Because, after all, even the Devil ought to get his due, especially when he’s involved in something as important as a woman’s right to choose:

Now, you may quibble that Medea killed children who were, you know, actually ambulatory, but to us and Peter Singer, that is a small matter, a mere detail, a bagatelle of a bump in the road on our way to a more perfect nihilism. Which is why I’m here to celebrate a great American named Kermit B. Gosnell, M.D., a man who was standing up to the forces of bigotry and intolerance and unreasoning pedophobia by providing abortion services at his Women’s Medical Society in Philadelphia — until, unaccountably, the state of Pennsylvania arrested him…

Well, one man’s “baby charnel house” is another man’s monument to the House that Blackmun Built, and surely reasonable men and women of good conscience can agree to disagree, even if Roe is long-since settled law and if you troglodytes so much as try to touch one hair of its sacred little head, we’re coming after you with scissors, suction, a pair of pliers, and a blowtorch… Once you accept the proposition of abortion pretty much on demand, including post-“birth,” this seems to us a distinction without a difference, but there’s no accounting for the lengths to which you Christianist Javerts will go in order to hunt down innocent women’s-health specialists.

A final apostrophe, in the name of all those babies who’ve died in the name of a greater good. May it someday serve as the epitaph of Roe v. Wade on that happy day that America comes back to its senses — for economic reasons, if not moral ones:

While it’s true that the alleged details of Dr. Gosnell’s practice can make you squeamish right-wingers uncomfortable, our brave women are made of sterner stuff. They know the parasitic clumps of cells in their wombs — punishment-by-“baby” for the simple, innocent, joyous act of sexual intercourse — are being eliminated for a higher, nobler cause than mere Christianity. We progressives don’t believe in the afterlife, unless we’re trying to fake some sort of “faith” on television, but we do believe in, shall we say, an eternally resonating resonance that proclaims to the universe: We were here. We lived. We killed. Mission accomplished.