Don’t Eat the Rich—They Taste Bad!

Imagine writing something like this.

Here it is: adhere to a narrative.  Screw the rich—they’re bad people, they’re sad people, they’re pathetic and impotent and whatever.  Maybe the writer is correct!  They probably are sad or pathetic or impotent.  The modern world demands that wealth comes with sacrifices most of us aren’t willing to put up with: horrendous work weeks, miserable jobs, awful clients, and, of course, nepotism that most of us simply don’t have access to.  Plenty of skill and intellect go into it, at least at first, but beyond that, it’s up to your contacts after a certain point.

But these people aren’t the super-rich.  Are they the one percent?  Maybe, but numbers mean little in a world run by a technocratic elite.  But having an outside service come in and clean your home while you’re at work as a doctor, or on a meaningless date at some random bar?  No, the super-rich don’t work that way.  The people whose opinions actually matter, who really run things—they don’t just let some random maid in to clean their home office.  They also don’t go to random bars in town that, apparently, some random maid can afford to meet her own date at.

On that note, I’ll take “Things That Never Happened For $400, Alex.”  The writer had me going—I did start to think she was being truthful—up until she described being at some bar and casually spotting some madam of the house that she cleaned before.  That sort of thing simply doesn’t happen.  The super-rich don’t even look at such bars, and the rich-enough generally don’t go to them—particularly when they’re on a date with a person they’re already involved with.

So what’s the point of an article like this?  For context, I found it recommended to me by my browser upon startup.  That recommended feed just grabs stuff off the internet based on parameters I neither set nor influence, given that it’s always recommending me articles from sites I never browse based on topics I never search.  So this was clearly something that was “recommended” in order to steer me towards it in the first place.

Articles like this attempt to steer the narrative.  “Don’t wish that you’re rich,” it’s saying.  “Look forward to being poor.”  “Rich people are all unhappy losers.”  “Rich people don’t pay attention to anyone but themselves.”  Rich people!  It’s sort of a you-know-it-when-you-see-it thing, I guess.

You know that’s what the message is because the piece is purely anecdote and rhetoric, written in scenes and spiced with statements about the author’s feelings and reflections.  It’s a self-indulgent exploration into the writer’s own sense of self-importance.  “Look at what these rich people are like based on the garbage I had to pick up at their houses!”  Judge a man by the garbage he leaves behind and you’ll only ever have a negative opinion of them.  If I remember right, the adage goes “by their fruits ye shall know them,” not “by their refuse.”

But that’s how it goes.  That’s what counts as publishable and worthy of recommendation.  Thanks.

The Mad Abortionist

So the mad abortionist Kermit Gosnell has a movie about him coming out in about a week from now.  I probably won’t have a chance to see it, and given its subject matter—a grisly topic whose imagery I have no interest in seeing projected into full color on a screen the size of my house—I probably won’t any time soon.  That said, given the heads who were put together to get the project to the silver screen, I anticipate it being good if not great.

For those of you who aren’t familiar with Gosnell, he’s hailed as the most prolific serial killer the United States has ever experienced, though the line between “serial killer” and “doctor” seems these days to be an increasingly vanishing distinction.  As John Water’s review of the film (no, not that John Waters) explains, Gosnell’s trial highlighted the absurdity of Pennsylvania’s moratorium on 24-week abortions.  What, indeed, is the difference between vacuuming a child’s brains out of his skull when he’s at 23 weeks versus at 24?  And this, of course, is to say nothing about what difference a short passage through the birth canal makes with regard to something as ambiguous as personhood.

One of the more ironic parts comes into play when you look at the place he was operating out of.  Just take a look at his Wikipedia page:

Practice conditions and procedures

  • Extreme unsanitary conditions (resulting in cases of STDs and sepsis); pervasive non-sterile conditions; blood stained materials and instruments; contamination of the facilities by animal feces, urine, and other noxious fluids and waste; and months-old fetal remains stored in “jars, bags and jugs”[56] (in 2013 the trial heard that Gosnell had also been in dispute with his medical waste company, with the latter stopping their services);[57]
  • Surgical malpractice including perforation of bodily organs and “on at least two occasions” death;[55]
  • Improper equipment and usage, including repeated reuse (“over and over”) of disposable supplies, and “generally broken” life-saving and monitoring equipment (including blood pressure monitoring, oximeters, and defibrillators);[58]
  • Padlocked emergency access and exit routes;[58]

You get the idea.

Take a look at the image that was just constructed for you: a horrible, bleak facility quite literally strewn with infant carcasses, blood stains, and garbage, with locked doors, and God knows what else.  If this doesn’t sound like the “back-alley butchers” that abortionist advocates fear-mongered about back in the seventies, then I don’t know what does.  The ironic part is that this facility—mediocrely named the Women’s Medical Society clinic—operated in this condition at the time in was raided in 2010. 

Roe v Wade had passed thirty-seven years before that.

So the next time someone tells you “women will always find ways to get abortions, and you don’t want them going back to hiring unqualified amateurs using coat hangers do you?!”  Just remind them that this facility was allowed to operate this way for decades.  Don’t even bother trying to explain the strikingly obvious point that the less appealing child murder looks, the less likely any woman would be willing to go through with it.

That said, of course, the grisly image of a blood-smeared extermination chamber at least evokes the connotations of abortion’s grim reality; the sterilized stainless-steel surfaces and bright hospital-like linoleum of, say, a Planned Parenthood clinic has to extend the lie in its moniker all the way into its very aesthetics.  “Relax, it’s a medical procedure, look how easily we can role-play being life-savers as we expertly drive forceps through the base of your child’s skull.”  The only reason Gosnell is in jail, apparently, while these liars are still in operation (with the financial consent and support of the US tax payer, no less!) is because he had the temerity to wait until the kid was already out of the womb before he did it.

Oh, and there was some drug charges about the distribution of oxycodone, but I guess it comes with the territory when you’re butchering children out back.