Each of us wears a costume, so to speak, which we alter throughout life. It is what helps us cope with those around us in a civilized intelligent manner. It sets us apart and binds us together at the same time.
When we awaken each morning, the suit goes on first thing. It is our person suit, our suit of humanity. Until we slip it on, we are little more than meat robots. Machines tuned to the business of breathing, sleeping, eating, and procreating.
Unfortunately, there are times when life becomes coarse, and abrasive. When this happens, our carefully tailored suit can fray, and our emotionless meat robot can begin to show through. Whenever I happen to get a glimpse of someone’s meat robot, I do not see the miracle of humanity; rather, I more often see the cold heart of apathy, staring blankly back at me with an expression custom made for an earthworm.
This is happening more often these days, or so it seems. Life is coarse indeed, and over the past two or three decades, much of society’s protective padding has peeled slowly away. We have all suffered abrasions, and in some of the worst cases, people’s meat robots have even begun to form calluses.
Abortion is one of those rough spots in our midst, and regardless of which side you fall regarding how society should respond; there is virtually no argument that abortion has gnawed a serious hole in our fabric.
I hear people say… “Well, I would never have one, but I could never tell someone else that they should not.” …or… “I am personally against abortion, but we should not dictate morality as a society for those who believe differently.”Cry for the Shadows, hoping to cause some of the exposed robot meat to glaze over, giving it a chance to grow some fresh emotional fabric. The book tells the stories of three women who face unplanned pregnancy. It attempts to give readers a taste of powerful emotions that are always real, and that exist for good reason. Readers also get to slip into the skin of the unborn, and experience the marvels of reproductive medicine first hand.
Having embarked on this project with great conviction of purpose, what has been most perplexing is the resistance of many (even pro-life) people to the idea of reading it. I see their meat robots peering out at me as they say… I just don’t like reading stuff like that, because it bothers me.
The unfortunate fact remains that regardless of how tired we are of the abortion debate, children are still being dismembered, piece by piece, in the name of reproductive healthcare. There are people running campaigns for the Presidency of this Nation who profess a great admiration for the availability of abortion, namely Barack Obama and his First Lady Wannabe wife.
Rudy’s robot meat is fully exposed. The mantra of moderates on the subject of abortion is to keep emotion out of the debate. Knowing that children are sliced and diced every day of every year, in this country and around the globe, I suppose that emotionless meat robots are to be expected. That does not mean; however, that we should stop trying to fix those tattered humanity suits as rips become evident.
Look in the mirror as you prepare for bed tonight, and ponder the image that stares back. Do you see the miraculous, emotion-fueled, I-give-a-hoot glow of humanity, or can you see expressionless robot meat, showing through the threadbare remnants of your person suit. For your sake and for the sake of millions of innocents, if you see robot meat, take steps to repair the damage immediately.