Conflagration Scotus

I am a woman. I gave birth. It was painful. Excruciating. Agony. No one knows. I do.

My child knows no one other purview until it gulps air outside of me. Until it leaves my womb it belongs to me and no one else. No other body, governmental or even judicial matters at all to me.

Not as far as I’m concerned anyway.

I really don’t care what you have to say.

I cannot stand five catholic men in black robes who would decide anything for me or the child in my body. I loathe you for trying. Your ignorance. Your arrogance. Your hubris. When the day comes I want to relinquish control of my life, my child’s life, to the likes of you, I’ll let you know. It will have a big fancy seal. It will be on parchment. Sheepskin. You’ll know. Champagne and caviar.

Until then, shut the fuck up.

We all know you think it’s your religious privilege. We all know you think you’re somehow entitled to a voice here. A heavy legislative hand. A right. But you are wrong. You don’t. You can’t. You won’t. You can’t tell me what contraception to use anymore than you can tell me what to do with my womb. My body. You stand there, collecting your filthy lucre from the dirtier angels of our filthiest nature and presume to define sin for me.

Fuck you.

You took a stand on the side of a company that wears its hypocrisy on its goddamn face. They invest in and make money off of the manufacture of contraceptive products. They willingly paid for the objectionable products for their employees for years. Decades. What changed besides Obamacare? They say their mission is to prevent abortion but the only net gain from this will be more abortion.

By the way, they say the contraceptive products they won’t pay for kill babies. Wrong. Completely wrong. What they do is prevent fertilization. No beings. No babies. How did we get to a place where the Supreme Court is guilty of science denial while listening to and valuing the opinions of clerics and wizards?

Five Roman Catholic men who wear black robes to work.

In this process you would willingly consign me to a coat hanger.

I am a man and I do not accept this jurisprudence. It is the antithesis of jurisprudence.

But I am a woman too.

It’s like your whole reason is to make sure it’s born.

After that, it’s nobodies business but mine. Ironic how you grab responsibility before it’s born and surrender it completely the second after. How do adult white men entertain the notion that they somehow get to champion the fetus and forgo the child?


They are the last people.

Then, some sonafabitching congressman comes along to make my last stand.

To pretend to speak for me and all the unborn.

I am a woman and I have given birth and if I begin to understand that delivery might mean my death, I get to decide what to do. If that child will be born inside out? My problem. If that child is born with whatever disability? My problem.

Not yours.

Fuck off.

The same goes for my contraception. Sometimes it’s to prevent an unwanted pregnancy. But 56% of the women in this country that avail themselves of contraceptive medication have it prescribed to them by doctors for reasons other than preventing pregnancy. Sometimes it’s to prevent my spending days in bed writhing in the kind of pain that makes botulism or ebola look Fischer Price. Sometimes it’s to reduce my risk of certain cancers. Viruses. You don’t know. You can’t you bastards. I am a woman and you are not.

I can not countenance five greasy old academic males deciding any of this shit. It’s none of their business.

None at all.

I am a woman.

I would make each of you pregnant tomorrow morning if I could.

Or, I would visit the menstrual cycle upon each of you if I could.

Then we would see who the women are.

That would be awesome.


I am a man speaking for women.

Drinks for my friends.

Reblogged from Brain Spank Author: Michael Douglass

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