On Friday, May 25, Irish voters elected to repeal their Eighth Amendment, which stood as one of the few remaining legal restraints upon abortion to be found anywhere in Europe. As I observed the “discussion” from the sidelines of Twitter, I felt far more disgust than shock—though, I must admit, I was unworldly enough to register much of the latter. I had not realized that so many young Irish women had become such a cesspool of mutating slogans and ostentatious plangency. I might as well have been overhearing the casual chatter of coeds in a graduate English program.
I can understand that a dutiful Catholic wife who has borne six children might not wish to bear a seventh. I saw no indication that the referendum reflected her anxiety. After all, this is 2018, not 1818. The number of Irish wives held prisoner in some “pregnancy dungeon” by Sean the Terrible can probably be counted on one hand.
Judging from the language used on Twitter, I at first concluded that the Emerald Isle must have a substantial residue (from centuries of economic suffocation) of what we call “poor white trash” down South. One heavy-hitter mused, “Now the Church has learned not to f**k with gays and not to f**k with women.” The devil in me wanted to write back, “My guess is that the Church may be the one thing in Ireland that is not f**king with you.” No, I didn’t indulge that salacious inspiration; it’s not classy to kick a girl when she’s down, and young women who verbalize in the terms of drunken sailors tend to be the barefoot tenth children of some dumpster-diving hag in the trailer park….
Or do they? Then I remembered my experience of graduate school, already decades in the past, and also my late exposure to undergrad “literature” majors in the somewhat rural outlier of a red-state university system. For about forty years now, educated young women have been egged on to talk like soldiers in a foxhole. Why is that? Is it simply because whatever outrages bourgeois values and expectations is good by default? Or is it (in a closely related chain of reasons) because doing whatever you damn well please and speaking as though you suffered from Tourette’s Syndrome are viewed as maximal assertions of individual freedom?
Many of the young women who voted down the anti-abortion law apparently flew in from parts abroad where they had preserved Irish citizenship in self-exile. Such affluence doesn’t fit the profile of “trailer trash”. Here I was thrown into an even deeper perplexity, then: if these girls are so well educated and affluent, why can they not ex out three days on the calendar during which to abstain from sex, assuming that the intricacies of contraception stymie them (or that, like Sandra Fluke, they don’t have five bucks in their bank account)? Indeed, heterosexual sex has grown very passé in the lanes traveled at top speed by these lasses. So why does abortion remain such a pressing issue if so many of their partners are so seldom contributing sperm to the encounter?
I keep returning to the phrase “young women” because pregnancy is actually rather difficult to achieve for females over thirty who haven’t borne children previously. In trying to apply a little basic logic to the profile, I was emerging with a subject in her mid-twenties.
But applying logic clinically to a Dionysiac behavior without admitting any nudge from intuition produces little enlightenment. Here’s my ultimate best guess about what’s going on. Abortion is our contemporary version of human sacrifice. It is the initiation rite into the inner circle of true believers—of “illuminatae” who reject all natural limitation and claim the right to make themselves over however they wish. Though female, they mate with other females. If they conceive in a heterosexual episode, they choose NOT to be pregnant. If their hair is blonde, they’ll make it purple—and they may just shear it all off. They will not be told what words to speak. If presenting a doctoral thesis, they may decide to pull all their clothes off (have you not heard about that one?). In their somewhat understated version of Satanism, they modify, “Evil, be thou my good,” to, “Obscene and profane, be ye my beautiful and sacred.” They have no original, unconditioned objective, you see: they can only invert and parody mainstream practice in an effort to create “free space” that turns out to be an utter vacuum.
Our “young women” need abortion because their religion demands that they deposit a chunk of flesh into an antiseptic bin, just as their distant ancestors were required to toss a bound victim into the peat bog at a given time of year.
Two concluding comments: one is that you cannot confine this rabid cult to a diseased pocket of society, as a libertarian like me might tend to think. I’ve said and written before that the gays should be given all of San Francisco in which to play, if they have the votes: let them make of it their Promised Land, as the Mormons did of Utah. But that won’t work. Neo-Satanism is as much a faith of proselytizing zealotry as is fundamentalist Islam. The human-sacrifice crowd will never be content with any given piece of real estate within which to practice their dark cult unobstructed. Permission must be extended universally. They must be allowed to perform their rites in your neighborhood. The existence of a single resistant city block is insufferable. Prominent among the abortion-crusader Tweets was a smoldering fury at having to visit other shores of Europe to have to victim lanced.
And speaking of Islam, finally… there is much consternation in parts of Germany over the coercion of female children—well under the age of puberty—to cover their heads at all times in public schools. I cannot disagree with the frequent observation that, if such practice truly reduces the sexual titillation of males, then we must be talking about a culture of pedophiles. Yet with what moral authority can the West lecture Islam any longer? When our most educated young women exhibit the behavior of sex addicts, spew obscenities like demon-possessed harpies, and murder their children with such gusto that they appear to seek out pregnancy only to that end, then how do we find the nerve to turn our attention from them and wag a finger at the hijab?