I won’t bore you with the minutiae of our long holiday weekend. Suffice it to say it was long, there was togetherness, we had snow (no mean feat in Louisiana when it’s in the 70s), we elected NOT to wait in a line that was at least a half mile long adjacent to razor wire (don’t ask), and miraculously, no one ate too much. We capped it off by a mostly-magnificent trip to the Aquarium of the Americas in New Orleans.
Note to self: Thanksgiving weekend is a rad time to go to venues like the Aquarium! Everyone is either travelling, pissed off, hung over, watching football, throwing elbows trying to get good deals, or drinking to overcome all of the above. The aquarium was deserted. It was sublime.
Riding home was a bit more eventful. By this time, everyone else was riding home from wherever their holiday revelry had occurred. What usually takes about an hour took double-time. We inched down Interstate 10, jammed bumper to bumper. Fortunately, both kids racked out. It was usual interstate bullshit: you come to a complete stop for about 3 minutes, slowly inch along for about 12 minutes, finally see a stranded vehicle whereby traffic accelerates for about 2 minutes, before you manage to reach speeds of 40 whopping miles per hour before you have to slam on the brakes and repeat the whole cycle.
It was (luckily) during one of the actual moving portions of these cycles that I saw it. I’ve never seen anything like it before, and it made. My. Blood. Boil.
Warning: as I rant, I get angry again. This results in more profanity than I usually employ in my blogs.
I want to state for the record: this is not about abortion. I don’t care what you believe about that. That’s your personal opinion. This is not about free speech. This is about using your fucking head and exercising common decency.
You know those pro-life dipshits that like to print those horrendous macabre picket signs with incredibly graphic photos of aborted fetuses and then stand on public sidewalks screaming at random passers-by, spouting bible verses? Well picture that disgusting shit on the sides and back of a very large truck, inching along an interstate. Where there is no escape. Where CHLDREN ARE SUBJECTED TO THESE AWFUL IMAGES. Innocent children. Who don’t know where babies come from, much less that anything that awful could happen to them or anyone else. My very sensitive 4 year-old daughter was sitting less than 10 feet from this thing, thankfully asleep. She can read, you know. She would have had some pretty strong reactions to this thing had she seen it.
The signs on the sidewalk are one thing. You can cross the damn street to get away from those fruit-bats (or beat them with their disgusting signs, if that floats your boat and you happen to have an attorney on retainer). But to roll this filth down the street, where there is no escape, is reprehensible. And the insanity that the message is all about saving children, when they’re basically assaulting children with images that kids have no business looking at is the height of hypocrisy.
I know that, like the fuckwits from Westboro Baptist Church who think it’s ok to protest soldiers’ funerals, this is about shocking people. If one would attempt to “discuss” this with them, you’d get a lot of hogwash. There would be self-righteousness, sneering, and witty repartee such as “would you rather your children see nudity or prostitutes?” The answer to that is yes: that’s easier to explain. It’s nowhere near as offensive.
If people want to have an honest, appropriate discussion: that’s one thing. If I approach these asshats and say “tell me – no, show me – the most awful abortion information you can” is one thing. But to rub people’s faces in it – when the population you say you care so much about can see it and have nightmares later? It’s moments like that that I hope there is a hell, and that they enjoy the heatwave.
Sorry. Like I said. Blood boiling.