UNFAITHFUL CATHOLICS CAUSED THE ABORTION CRISIS

Every Catholic who abandoned their religion and began using artificial contraception and/or surgical sterilization, put a nail in the coffin of Catholic moral teachings. Every Catholic who had sex outside of marriage laid another weight on that coffin.

Contraception leads to the abandonment of chastity, which leads to "unwanted pregnancies" which, in turn, leads to abortion. The correlation is direct.

Abortions are legal because people want them. People want them because they do not adhere to Christian moral teachings and thereafter find themselves inconveniently pregnant.

The society, reflecting the will of the people, is not geared to accommodate many children because we live in a fornicating, masturbating, promiscuous society that has shifted focus from love and commitment to self-gratification. This societal sickness did not descend upon us like a cloud of locusts from hell. We created this situation by our behaviors, behaviors that are fed by ideologies that are inconsistent with Christian moral values.

The law is responding to the people. Unlike China, which forces abortion on its population, our law allows abortion in response to what the population wants. It is not the law that caused this problem. It is the people. If abortions were legal but no one wanted one (or felt they "needed" one), there could be an abortuary on every corner and they would all be EMPTY.

We have not evangelized the world and educated it about the importance of chastity because we ourselves are an unfaithful people.

I have seen a lot of Catholics fly into a rage about various political figures who believe in abortion on demand. Many of these Christians are self-righteous, hostile, argumentative and blaming, blaming, blaming. Not a whiff of humility to be found.

It is well past time that Catholics accepted that our failure to follow our own religion and our subsequent failure to evangelize the culture with Catholic moral values is the cause of the abortion crisis in our country. Marching, carrying signs, and writing hot Facebook posts might make us feel better, perhaps even superior (because we, ourselves, can't imagine having an ABORTION), but it just makes us all look like a bunch of hypocritical kooks.

It is much harder to follow our religion, live chaste lives, and evangelize from that position of faithful strength than to march around like self-important, judgy Bible thumpers. We have to live the Bible FIRST, and that hasn't happened over the last 50 years since "the pill" became available.

Now that we find ourselves living in this hellish culture, where you can kill your baby until the minute before it is born, we do have to try to stem the tide of this horror, but the answer to our dilemma is not some politician who claims to be "pro life." None of the politicians are pro-life enough to do anything about it in the legislature, and their efforts will be wasted anyway because the citizens who want abortion to be legal outnumber the people who don't.

We need to change those numbers, but we can't legislate the heart.

Fixating upon the unlikely chance of a legal solution to the abortion problem has dumped us right into this wretched situation where we have an apparently insane head of our government who lies even when caught in lies. His entire method of communication relies upon lies, and it appears that he thinks that all he has to do is continue to lie, insist upon the lie, and acts as if he thinks that the lie will somehow become true. He forces his representatives to support his lies and fires those who will not do it. Satan is the father of all lies. Wherever you see a person who relies upon lies to feed his ego needs or obtain something else he wants, you also see Satan. Satan is very close to a person who behaves like this in an habitual way.

In addition to the lies, our president acts, at times, as if he is in line to become the first dictator of the U.S.A, adopting all of the typical methods of other well-known dictators, such as Lenin, Stalin and Castro; discrediting, misdirecting and corralling the media so that Americans know less and less about what is happening in the White House than at any time in the last 40 years, for one thing.

His cabinet is composed of billionaires with suspicious ties to Russia, and his paranoia is so great that the White House offices are empty because more than 500 positions remain vacant. He probably doesn't know 500 people who are unreasonably loyal to him, and he won't hire someone who ISN'T.

Trump has moved his family into the White House, giving his daughter an office, with access to the most highly sensitive intelligence information. She is a fashionista with no government experience whatsoever. What does she offer to our people? Nothing. Her husband is stuck to Trump's side like velcro, but his job description is sketchy. We don't know what he does or what he brings to the table.

Every weekend except one, Trump has spent at his luxury country club, treating the White House as if it is an office where he works a 40 hour week. These luxury golf weekends are costing the American taxpayer a fortune. In the two months he has been in office, he has cost us more than an entire year of our last president's travel. The infuriating hypocrisy of this is almost funny when one considers the fuss that the Republicans made about our last president's travel costs, which were modest, compared to Trump.

Because the president's wife won't move into the White House, we have to pay for security for her residence at Trump Tower.  Security services has to cover her, AND the White House AND the luxury country club that has members of the public crawling all over the place. It is a security nightmare.

It is like the Romanovs have taken up residence in the middle of our democracy and are rapidly dismantling it, with the help of Leninist Steve Bannon, another odd member of Trump's entourage!

Despite his claims that he wasn't going to be like the rest of the republicans, that he would protect Medicare, Medicaid, and Social Security, and that he would make sure that EVERY American was insured with health care, that the health care would be cheaper, and that the quality would be better, he is pushing a health care plan that would, within the next 10 years, kick 24 MILLION people off of health care, pushing us back 10 years in time. The people who pay the most insurance premiums are those who can afford it LEAST, especially the elderly and the disabled. The health care plan is engineered so that the insurance companies may charge them 4 times more than what they charge young healthy people. ONCE AGAIN...ANOTHER BIG FAT LIE.

Trump's misogyny, prejudice and bigotry toward refugees from war torn countries are obviously anti-Christian values, and anyone who thinks otherwise needs only to read that Bible.

The entire world has been rocked by all of this crazy behavior of this president - all for the sake of the impossible dream that a man who has never lifted a finger against abortion will magically become a pro-life warrior and will appoint a judge who is sure to make abortion illegal. Meanwhile, the poor, the elderly and the sick will die because they won't be able to afford the health care that the president is currently pushing.

One thing he didn't forget to do is arrange for a billions of dollars of tax breaks for his cronies...other millionaires and billionaires.

I lay this all at the feet of Catholics who abandoned the faith and started this snowball rolling.

Silver Rose Parnell
Copyright (c) 2017

WHAT I AM WATCHING NOW (SPOILER ALERT!)

Florence  Foster Jenkins

(nee Narcissa Florence Foster)

1868-1944

I don't require what you might traditionally call "entertainment" these days, as I find certain types of WORK to be my happiest compulsions; things like genealogy research which leads so naturally into historical research, and the making of hats for the homeless...or the occasional cold mail delivery lady. Writing is terrible work, and I just hate it, but I can't seem to get away from it as it also entertains me, in a grim fashion.

Having been given a television during the last year...and quite a large one (to accommodate my failing vision), I DO watch several programs, but I can't seem to generate much interest in anything more than the news channels, and I watch them all, even Faux News Channel, which seems to give credibility to some incredible things and which gives me anxiety, so that channel gets short shrift from me. Everything else, though, as long as people aren't arguing loudly over one another, I will "watch." Actually, the television might as well be one huge radio because I can't bear to just SIT there and watch it. I must be doing something else besides.

Crochet, painting and house cleaning are good accompaniments, except when doing dishes. I have to keep turning off the water to catch the drift of what's being discussed, now and then.

It goes without saying that there are certain PBS programs that are sacrosanct, and I watch them as if I am in a movie theatre; enrapt in the story line and watching every movement in the actors' faces, as if I am one of those human lie detectors I've heard about, the ones who watch the micro movements beneath the skin of a person's face and can tell when they're lying. When Downton Abbey finished its final season, I felt as if a best friend had died. There was so much about that series that I appreciated!

The beauty of the surroundings, the stately movement of time that became less stately over the long haul and more herky jerky over the landscape of what I consider to be a bad bit of historical geography. Anything later than 1925 is on shaky ground with me. Everything became so coarse after that time, while at the same moment congratulating itself that everything was becoming modern.

The grand dowager, Lady Grantham, if you haven't guessed, was my favorite character, and she took something of me with her when she disppeared from my weekly ritual of Downton Abbey worship. She represented the old guard which, to me, seemed very beautiful and lovely in many of its habits.

Recently, however, I was given a discount coupon from my internet carrier so that I could watch a pay-on-demand movie for free. I could have watched one in "high definition" and used up the whole $6.00 THAT way, but instead I decided to watch two movies in "standard def" so that I could have a double feature on an especially painful evening when I didn't have the energy to crochet or write. I got the first movie for free and then paid only $5.00 for the second one, which means each one cost $2.50 (in my mind, anyway.)

As luck would have it, I had snacks in the house, which is a rare thing. I typically eschew anything that isn't real food; that is to say, bread, eggs, fruits, veggies, meat, beans, nuts, seeds, filtered water. This year, when a friend called me from the grocery store and asked me what I wanted, I asked for "goodies" to share with any of the other old lady neighbors who may drop by. It's usually just my friend Ruby, but you never know. Anyway, I had PIE. It wasn't a very good pie, as it turned out, because it had NONFAT MILK in it, which makes me dreadfully sick, but I didn't know about the nonfat milk until it was too late. Anyway, I got to have my movie night with pumpkin pie that would not blow up inside me until a few hours later.

The movie blew up immediately, however. Forever the anglophile, I chose BRIDGET JONES'S BABY as the first feature. Never mind that the starring actress is actually an American. She did a fair job of ACTING as a Brit in the first film, so I thought she'd be good in this sequel.

Mind you, I am not one of those people that hate sequels. I will give them a chance, especially since I always have trouble remembering the FIRST film of the series, so I don't usually catch the little bumbles. If I happen to be sharp enough to catch a flub in the sequel, I yell to no one in particular, "continuity!" as if I was still in the movie business, watching to make sure that a 1960's timepiece didn't show up in a scene that was supposedly from the 1940's! The dog reacts in amusement whenever I talk to myself like this. He thinks his little human has gone mad...or something.

So, Bridget Jones's Baby immediately slapped me in the face with the most vulgar language and innuendo I could possibly imagine, even to the not-so-vague references to the size of a man's genitals, while all her girlfriends kept telling her, in the most chipper way, that she needed to have sex. This is where I learned that, while the first movie ended on a happy note that led us all to believe that Bridget was, finally, ending up with the equally adorable Mr. Darcy, it had not actually worked out with them, and they'd called it quits after 10 years together.

In this second movie Bridget is the head of a similar department in which she had suffered while juggling her boss and Mr. Darcy in that first movie. She has a vulgar sidekick who is the on-screen interviewer for their news program. Said chipper sidekick  pulls Bridget away for a girls weekend at a spa, supposedly, but has actually booked them into a yurt at some muddy rock festival where extremely short blue jean cutoffs are the costume of choice, despite the grim and continual rain.

Now, mind you, Bridget is, by this time, 43 years old, we are told, and the bloom is definitely off that rose. She's lost that bungling sweetness we loved about her in the first film. The camera keeps zooming in on her tight and trim upper thighs where they meet her bum, perhaps to keep us from looking at her face that wears a pained and rigid expression through most of the film. Or perhaps the cameraman got distracted.

I would suspect botox, except that an entire field of terrified wrinkles moves across her cheek bones whenever she mistakenly makes an expression. You could see those micro-expressions from outer space. I'm not being mean. Wrinkles are lovely when one is SMILING, but I can't tell you what to call that expression that happens on her.

It goes from bad to worse. In an extremely awkward set of scenes, she has sex with a man at the rock festival and then sex with her ex, Mr. Darcy, and ends up preggers, having to string along the both of them until they can figure out who is the father. (She won't submit to an amniocentesis test, with that long needle, and I don't blame her a bit.)

The movie slams from one nauseating scene to another, something like a distressed boat on the high seas during a deep sea fishing trip that's gone bad, with the audience mourning dear little Bridget who has obviously died before the movie began, and everyone is vomiting from sea sicknesses and sorrow.

Actress Emma Thompson puts in a highly credible performance as Bridget's gynecologist and is wryly funny despite the lukewarm jokes they make her say. She's a trooper, that one, and it was a relief to see her every time she popped up.  In fact, she may have saved our lives.

The ONLY laugh I got out of the whole movie was when dear Mr. Darcy was trying to carry this balloon of a pregnant woman through the streets of London whilst in labor. His facial expressions were priceless. The second man meets up with them halfway to the hospital, at which point carrying Bridget becomes a two-man job. We could have used a few more good men to carry this film.

Eventually, while giving birth, Bridget realizes she's still in love with Darcy and holds his hand with both of hers, leaving the other guy to just deal with it on the periphery. It was a clunky, heavy scene, with closeups of the hands involved. 1940's, anyone?

So, finally, I have arrived at my POINT.  Our modern world continues to express surprise that women want love, devotion, and family ties, NOT free-wheeling sexual encounters in yurts at rock concerts. We don't want to wait until we're 43 to have babies and get married. Careers, while wonderful and captivating, simply do not replace what we really want. We are biologically programmed for partnership, love and family. God created us for one another, and we keep pretending that it isn't necessary or that we can put it off until our FORTIES, or, indeed, forever...just fornicating our lives away until we're too old to do otherwise.

The developed world keeps fighting biology. Our prime baby making years are between the ages of 15 and 25, which makes sense, given that we are born with every egg we shall ever have. The older we grow, the older the eggs, and the more chance for birth defects or infertility. Believe me, I have heard all the reasons why couples shouldn't marry young or have children young, but the proof is in the pudding. What we are doing now does not work and is just plain sad.

The bleak and sodden love story that is BRIDGET JONES'S BABY is, in my mind, a cautionary tale, at best. Mostly, it is a bad movie because it is inauthentic. It tries to push concepts that do not work in real life. There are no happy feelings at the end of this movie.

Modern ideas about sex, love, marriage, children and abortion are all engineered and fueled by our hyper-capitalistic society, the corporate obsession with money. In short, it all boils down to GREED, but those of us suffering under the consequences of this soul-killing way of looking at the most important aspects of life are not even the people that BENEFIT from the modern philosophies about family, sex, etc. CORPORATIONS are the beneficiaries of this sort of cultural expression. If the corporations can keep us slaving away underneath them, (making slave wages), then the corporations and the CEOs at the top of the heap can benefit. Oblivious to the way that we are being used, movies like BRIDGET JONES'S BABY act like the Nazi propaganda films, trying to get us all heated about our "right" to kill our children or to put off conceiving for so long that children don't enter into the picture or there are damn few of them.  Bridget Jones is a success!  She is the boss at the news studio, churning out entertainment news, making the guy at the top of the heap very wealthy...and she can STILL have a baby, even though her eggs are geriatric. See, people? We can have it all.

Frances Foster Jenkins is also a movie about love, based upon a true story about a socialite who adored classic music and wanted to sing, sing, sing, but she had a tin ear and the vocal chords of a drunken raptor. I loved that movie, and I don't want to ruin it for you because it gives the payoff that Bridget Jones's Baby never could. I hope you see both movies and you can make your own comparisons.

God bless us all.

Silver Rose