Let’s Murder ’em

The next parliamentary session was due in one month and the Right Honourable Freddy Fortesque wanted to make a name for himself. It was the session at which he would be reading his new members bill.

‘What you need to do is introduce a bill which will remain controversial for bloody years,” advised Jimmy, his old school chum. “Then people will hear your name over and over.”

“What sort of thing?” asked Freddy.

“I’m not quite sure really but I think that the people are concerned about the current abortion laws. They still worry about how far through a pregnancy a foetus becomes a child. They are not sure whether they are committing murder.”

“That’s true; they have been in a state of fervent argument for a long time. None of them will ever admit that there is no answer. People will argue about that sort of stuff forever,” confirmed Freddy.

“I wonder why that is?”

“I think it’s because it’s vague; based on ideas rather than reason. If you present people with facts and take the trouble to prove them then there is nothing to discuss is there? People need a point of view; something to argue over; you cannot passionately believe in self evident facts: the media needs controversy. Yes Freddy, ban abortion and your name would be echoed throughout posterity as the man who relieved young girls of dilemma.”

Having planted the idea, Jimmy returned to his office to work out his plans.

“You can’t stop people doing things they really want to do,” he giggled to himself.

You see, Jimmy knew that they had tried banning alcohol in America where it had failed and he revelled at the thought of what was presently happening in the illegal drug industry; for industry it certainly was. He was on the phone right away, building his illegal abortion empire. He had the idea firmly planted in his mind. He knew that once people are doing something illegal you’ve got them. All customers for abortion would have to put up with shoddy service because they would be criminals. He smiled. Dodgy doctors will be able to take money willy-nilly secure in the knowledge that there will be no regulating an illegal business. Already he was planning how to spend his first million.

So, the campaign was organised. Religious groups were roused, pro choice was ridiculed and. very soon the population was decrying the actions of the murdering, yet legitimate, abortion doctors; the press campaign had been perfect. The support for the new legislation was overwhelming and the bill was passed and time passed.

Six years later a very wealthy Jimmy was consulted by John Smith the labour candidate for Hackney.

“I need an angle Jimmy, can you suggest something?” asked John.

Jimmy, no longer needing more wealth, was now concerned about his standing in the world. He had been a part of the back-street abortion business and realised that he needed to change his ways if he was to find his salvation and get his knighthood.

“This abortion business is an unholy mess, John” suggested Jimmy. “You should head up a campaign to legalise it again; it would make your name.

So, you think I should be the man to legalised murder.”  John was quite astonished.

“Yes, but at least it will be sanitised murder and, of course, we won’t allow the killing of infants; only immature foeti will be destroyed. You will be the champion of pro choice. You will give young girls the right to kill their children before they are born.”

“What’s more important is that you will give the media a chance to air their prejudices regarding the age of foeti,” thought Jimmy.

Freddy returned to his penthouse suite and pondered his knighthood. He recruited the assistance of the woman’s rights movement and all the organisations that had been responsible for cleaning up the aftermath of bad back street procedures. Soon, with the Salvation Army leading the cry the campaign was on the move. There was no shortage of physically impaired young girls to parade before the media. The success of John Smith’s bill was assured. The Catholic Church was up in arms.

It was the evolutionists who first started thinking about the abortion issue rationally. They realised that humanity needed to adapt to survive. They knew that the more diverse the results of reproduction then better were the chances of survival. What society really needed was to create an environment into which all offspring and their mothers would be welcomed and cherished; an environment where the idea of wanting to abort a foetus simply did not enter a mother’s mind. “Let’s create a place where no babies are unwanted,” they cried out. “A place where mothers and children are cherished and cared for in the best possible manner; a place where the young can be nurtured without the job necessarily being the duty of the mother; a place where the mother is cherished for having reproduced.”

Freddy smiled, his knighthood was assured. He knew the bigots would not allow that sort of thinking, particularly if they had to pay. Already, he was working on the sort of mileage he could get out of the compulsory sterilisation of irresponsible young girls. “I just need another ambitious politician,” he thought. It is so that the human need to argue without thinking is carefully fostered.