Starting Friday, it’s possible that women in Kansas with unwanted pregnancies will have to drive several hours over state lines to obtain an abortion – saddled with piles of tedious regulations and unrealistic deadlines, clinics may be forced to close.:
Kansas has only three abortion clinics, all in the Kansas City area. One, in Wyandotte County, has already been told it would not be licensed. The local president of Planned Parenthood said Tuesday that his Overland Park clinic still hadn’t been approved for a license.
Because I value your time more than Scott Adams apparently does, here is a short summary of this article (and, by extension, basically every MRA screed ever penned) to spare you the tedium.:
Rape accusations are overblown, but men are genetically-programmed to be testosterone-crazed, butt-humping fuckbots. However, all these shrill, castrating feminazis are meanies for castigating men as testosterone-crazed, butt-humping fuckbots. Also, chicks only like hugs, not fucking. Fucking is for testosterone-crazed, butt-humping fuckbots.
(These statements may then be followed with garbled arguments resembling the ‘Evolutionary Psychology 101’ class notes of a lonely, sexually-frustrated male undergrad. Insert clumsy metaphor about apex predators and cute little herbivorous prey here.)
…the most pointless superhero ever?
To be clear, it’s the delivery I’m objecting to here, not the message – circumcision is a medically unjustifiable procedure most often performed solely to satisfy the parents’ aesthetic or religious preferences. It’s not something to which I’d ever subject my sweet little (hypothetical) baby, and I wish more parents would follow suit.
That aside, the comic is just fucking weird – using artistic media to protest circumcision is great; it’s the idea of a superhero whose existence revolves around babies’ crotches that I find lol-worthy.
I initially kept my mind open upon hearing about it, thinking that the comic was more tongue-in-cheek than cheesy, overwrought melodrama. I thought wrong.: Continue reading
This image makes me recall a conversation with a former friend about a year ago, in which she (a chronic procrastinator, with her piles of unpaid parking tickets & overdue power bills) expressed total shock at the concept of late-term abortions, musing about what kind of person would “just wait around”until the last minute to schedule an abortion.
Presumably, the sort of person who can’t afford to take several days off work to have and recuperate from an abortion. The sort of person who didn’t realize she was pregnant until the second trimester. Or the sort of person who doesn’t own a car.
Several months ago, when I aborted, I bypassed all of the above – no gas-guzzling car ride to a clinic flanked with screeching protesters; no awkwardly invasive sonogram. …because I couldn’t afford it. Continue reading