I was working at my desk when I got a tap on my door. Before I opened it, a coworker named Jenny came in and pointed at my computer.
“What the fuck is a National Sanctity of Human Life Day?” she demanded. “Shit like this makes me wanna murder someone.”
I thought about that word murder
, how it’s really a legal term, something that is proven in a court of law. You don’t really murder a person; you kill them. If several factors are borne true, then you murdered them.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said.
She was truly – and almost literally – fuming.
“The fucking president, calling for some such pro-life holiday,” she said. “Do a news search for it.”
I did, and with Jenny angrily perched behind me, I read the story
… Bush also underscored his administration's efforts to champion "compassionate alternatives" to abortion, such as promoting maternity group homes, encouraging abstinence and adoption and passing parental-notification and waiting-period laws …
The story said the remarks were in a “document that enacts no change in policy or program.”
A press release.
“Well, what do you expect?” I asked her. “He’s conservative. Look the word up in the dictionary.”
“It makes me wanna have an abortion,” Jenny said, turning to go, apparently satisfied that I was aware of the root of her discontent. “No, I wanna get raped by a prison full of men, and then leave all the kids on the front door of his ranch. And that fucking black Rice lady, of all the sell-outs …”