Every Sperm Is Sacred

All kinds of grumpiness about the hurricane and FEMA and Bush to come. But first, something completely different.

A creature named Morse penned this spew over at Townhall (aside to Nick: Yes, this kind of crap DOES make my head explode. As should yours) regarding, of all things, the right to privacy and the idea of contraception. Don't really bother reading the whole thing, unless you need a good chuckle after reading about the failures of BushCo in the Gulf region. Better off reading the takedowns at Sadly No or World O Crap.

But here's a money shot:

All Americans are entitled to have the cause, namely, unlimited sexual activity, without ever experiencing the effect, namely, a live baby. To see the absurdity of this claim, try out a couple of analogies.

Wait just a minute there lady. “Unlimited Sexual Activity?” First of all, we have to eat. And go poo-poos (Don't want to lose the author in terminology). it's not unlimited if you stop.

Secondly, where was my “Unlimited Sexual activity” when I was eighteen, when I could have actually used it (and, not incidentally, also stood a chance of physically accomplishing it)? How do I go about getting my retroactive unlimited sexual activity? Am I just SOL, while today's youth are making with the un-limitations?

And besides, what are the procedures? Do we just go rub up against anyone we want, or do we make an appointment? Could I have made an eminent domain claim against any girl I fancied? And vice versa?

And I don't know about Ms. Morse, but every sexual experience I've had has been limited. By the law of gravity, if nothing else. But maybe she has a big stack of really good batteries.

Now, on to the second part of that quote up there, the part about “without experiencing the effect, a live baby.” Now, one way of reading this would be that after experiencing the effect, a baby, you would no longer experience sexual activity, unlimited or not.

In which case I've been REALLY doing it wrong.

Or else you could read that as saying that the result of every act of sex (obviously, oral and anal, as well as solitary, do not count and you should stop that immediately, sickos) should be a live baby.

In which case my wife and I have a whole butt-load of backordered babies due to be delivered (ha) by Fed Ex or UPS any day now.

Actually, when you get right down to it, contraception and abortions have been around since recorded history. As with so much else, though, modern advances have discarded the inefficient and made the alternatives healthy and safe. For example, the so-called Rhythm Method has been pretty much discredited and abandoned.

But this all reminds me of nothing so much as the Miracle of Birth section of Monty Python's Meaning of Life:

Of course, this comes right after the epochal song “Every Sperm is Sacred, which is also perfectly applicable.

Mr Blackitt: Look at them, bloody Catholics. Filling the bloody
world up with bloody people they can't afford to bloody feed.

Mrs Blackitt: What are we dear?

Mr Blackitt: Protestant, and fiercely proud of it...

Mrs Blackitt: Why do they have so many children...?

Mr Blackitt: Because every time they have sexual intercourse they
have to have a baby.

Mrs Blackitt: But it's the same with us, Harry.

Mr Blackitt: What d'you mean...?

Mrs Blackitt: Well I mean we've got two children and we've had
sexual intercourse twice.

Mr Blackitt: That's not the point... We *could* have it any time we
wanted.

Mrs Blackitt: Really?

Mr Blackitt: Oh yes. And, what's more, because we don't believe in
all that Papist claptrap we can take precautions.

Mrs Blackitt: What, you mean lock the door...?

Mr Blackitt: No no, I mean, because we are members of the
Protestant Reformed Church which successfully challenged the
autocratic power of the Papacy in the mid-sixteenth century,
we can wear little rubber devices to prevent issue.

Mrs Blackitt: What do you mean?

Mr Blackitt: I could, if I wanted, have sexual intercourse with
you...

Mrs Blackitt: Oh, yes... Harry...

Mr Blackitt: And by wearing a rubber sheath over my old feller I
could ensure that when I came off... you would not be
impregnated.

Mrs Blackitt: Ooh!

Mr Blackitt: That's what being a Protestant's all about. That's
why it's the church for me. That's why it's the church for
anyone who respects the individual and the individual's right
to decide for him or herself. When Martin Luther nailed his
protest up to the church door in 1517, he may not have
realised the full significance of what he was doing. But four
hundred years later, thanks to him, my dear, I can wear
whatever I want on my John Thomas. And Protestantism doesn't
stop at the simple condom. Oh no! I can wear French Ticklers
if I want.

Mrs Blackitt: You what?

Mr Blackitt: French Ticklers... Black Mambos... Crocodile Ribs...
Sheaths that are designed not only to protect but also to
enhance the stimulation of sexual congress...

Mrs Blackitt: Have you got one?

Mr Blackitt: Have I got one? Well no... But I can go down the road
any time I want and walk into Harry's and hold my head up
high, and say in a loud steady voice: 'Harry I want you to
sell me a *condom*. In fact today I think I'll have a French
Tickler, for I am a Protestant...'

Mrs Blackitt: Well why don't you?

Mr Blackitt: But they... [He points at the stream of children still
pouring past the house.]... they cannot. Because their church
never made the great leap out of the Middle Ages, and the
domination of alien episcopal supremacy!