Imagine that you’re walking along the sidewalk and you notice a man piling firewood around the perimeter of a lone house on the street. You pause out of curiosity and observe him more closely. He has a jerry can of petrol and begins to remove the cap.
“Hey, what are you doing”?
The man ignores you and begins pouring the gasoline on the flammables around the house.
More urgently, you call out again, “Hey, what are you doing?”
He turns acknowledging your query.
“I’m burning down my house”. He pulls out the deed and shows it to you. It is his house.
I mention that he could sell it instead. He doesn’t care. I mention he could give it away to someone that needs it, or who would love to have it. He doesn’t care. I don’t know him and its none of my business what he chooses to do with his personal property, but it is curious, so I watch.
Now the man begins to carry 2x4 boards to the front door. He has a hammer and nails and fastens them across the door so it can’t be opened. I notice that the ground-level windows are already boarded up. I look up at the upper-level windows to see if they are boarded as well and I see a woman in the window crying and banging on the window with her fists, trying to break it. She seems to be screaming. The sound is muffled from the closed window, but I think I can hear her.
“Help me, help me, help me!”
At this realization that the house has a woman inside, I start yelling at the man.
“Hey, there’s a woman in there!”
The man pulls out a matchbox and lights a match, and says,
“This is all my property and I can do what I want with it”.
With that, he throws the lit match onto the gas soaked lumber.
What a horrendous thing that would be to witness. I think we can all agree that this is an evil act by an an evil man. But what if I changed the story a little bit. Perhaps instead of a woman in the house, I heard a baby crying.
I yell at the man, “Hey, there’s a baby in there”, as he lights the house on fire.
And he retorts, “my house, my choice”.
I yell, “you don’t have the choice to kill a baby”. The flames are now climbing up the side of the house.
He shrugs, “My property my choice”
“A baby isn’t your property!”
“If it’s in my house, it isn’t a baby, it’s furnature.”
This man is going to kill his baby and rationalizes it with soul chilling falicous arguments. Arguements that reject realiy and reason.
“If it’s in my house it isn’t a baby, it’s furnature; And it has no more value than my kitchen chair or my sofa”.
He further explains,
“When it gets old enough to walk out that front door, then it’s a baby, but right now, while it’s still in my home, it’s just chattel, and it only has value if I say it has value. And I don’t want it, so I’m going to burn it. It’s my choice to do what I want with my property”.
“My body, My choice”: Welcome to the evil known as the pro-choice movement. Where a child isn’t a baby until someone carries it out the front door.
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