National Review carries today an article about shameless behavior by a number of politicians and judges in my state of Kansas. Despite its conservative reputation, the state has some of the higher taxes and spending in the region, and worse, it tolerates an abortion regime that civilized people might be forgiven for expecting to find in China, not a state where three-quarters of the citizens claim to be Christians.
You might recall that George Tiller performs partial-birth abortions in Wichita, executing healthy, nearly full-term infants by delivering them almost completely and then puncturing their skulls inside the womb. He incinerates the corpses in the same building, such that the car dealership that until recently resided next door had to frequently wash the ash off their vehicles. This is not what outrages our citizens, however, it’s the gas prices that has everyone up in arms.
Rather than shaming and ostracizing this monster, our governor, a possible VP for Obama, hosted a private party for him. It’s fascinating, isn’t it, how we can redefine terms until what this man does every day isn’t murder? Regardless of your political views on this matter, if one reads about how this works, about how a pink, wiggling baby is delivered until his neck is exposed, and how Tiller then jabs a pair of scissors into the base of his skull, one can only conclude that someone who does this is an executioner, not a doctor. But no matter, he’s an outstanding fundraiser.
Given the state of the Kansas judicial system, it shouldn’t be surprising that the former attorney general who investigated Tiller, as well as Planned Parenthood of Kansas, for violating the state’s already lenient abortion laws, is the one being harassed by attorneys, and hamstrung by arbitrary legal rules dreamed up by an unaccountable, left-wing Supreme Court. He’s rocking the boat, after all. Decent people don’t talk about abortion. It’s for Bible-thumping kooks. And hey, have you seen those gas prices? Talk about outrageous!
Welcome to Kansas. A great state to live in, unless you happen to be residing in the womb, and so long as you keep your mouth shut about the routine infanticide that gives new meaning to the old moniker, “Bleeding Kansas.”
