The Bad Death of Dr. Tiller

by S. Daily Warren

Just because I’m in a flyover state doesn’t mean I know everybody here, so I don’t know Dr. Tiller from anyone. Nor would I presume to know the moral, spiritual or technical implications of mid-term, late-term, finals week or summer school abortions. Not my snow forte.

We should start simply: killing is wrong…unless you really, really want to. For instance, I have this neighbor – shelve that for the moment. If you’re a catch-and-release household bug trapper then you understand at least somewhat the miracle of life. If you squash them and move on you have a tidy home and the benefit of being passed over every malaria season. Both have merit, and my only contribution is to be as wise as serpents and as harmless as doves; ready to kill yet reticent to kill.

Some salient facts. Dr. Dead had been wearing a flak jacket since 1998, on advice from the federal government, which tells me there’s a man committed to his work. What that work is I don’t know since when he was shot he was performing his duties as an usher in a Lutheran church, but it’s doubtful this issue renders down to simply bad ushing.

Also, the suspect was almost immediately arrested…and what’s worse is he’s from Merriam, Kansas. “You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy.” Obi Wan said about Merriam. I’m a strict constitutionalist at heart, to a fault, and hold our founding principles at a lofty height just below Mad Magazine and the Bible, so Scott Roeder (no, not from Metallica) must be innocent until proven guilty. But actually, he did it and everyone knows it, case closed.

And, Dr. Tiller’s clinic was one of three in the U.S. that non-subversively focused on late-term abortions. This procedure is described as taking place in the third trimester and is only allowed by law under certain circumstances such as rape, incest or if DNA testing indicates the baby is going to be Eric Cartman. It’s icky like all other procedures in the medical world, and yes sometimes they drill holes in babies heads. Quite frankly, I don’t see the difference between this procedure and putting your 10 year old on Ritalin and sending him to public school (except for the timing), but I’ll debate that with my manicurist. I must also report that the late Dr. Tiller was shot in the head. I make no assertions of poetic justice or divine intervention, I only say that it was good murder scene choreography.

Which brings me to my final point in fact…and if I had a modicum of honesty I’d end here and stop pretending I have one…this must be between the doctor and the woman. Why?

1.) She’s the caretaker. Guys, take a walk. You should have a say but you don’t and you won’t. If you’re really pissed off then declare a spermbargo but there’s little else you can do.

2.) It takes two to conspire, be it murder, manslaughter or Mariah Carey. Yes, any and all feti deserve a fair shot and an even break….like the rest of us got? (snicker) So there’s undoubtedly life there, but it is MOM’S life to deal with, period. How do I know? It’s still plugged in. So, technically you could even say it’s an extension of mom about to have an out-of-the-mommy experience. But that’s just silly.

3.) Under no circumstances do we want the justices of the United States Supreme Court groping around in this issue. Why not? They’re hands are too old and in most cases, on a personal level, the justices will be thinking of great grandchildren they’ll never have to support and not real people in-becoming.

As for Roeder, well he shot a guy. If his name was Tyrone Jefferson and he’d murdered Qung Ho at the Kwikie Mart this case would be over in record time. And it should be. Process this guy and get him out of here, and warm up Old Sparky. Cold-blooded murder for a cause is right alongside exploiting cold-blooded murder for a cause so I want closure, credits and that creepy music they play on C.S.I. Societal disruption on any level over this issue is unacceptable, especially for a bunch of Lutherans. Both Roeder and Tiller hung out their respective shingles, walked their talk and reaped what they sowed. And as for Tiller I say he had a yard of guts but it was his brains that got him in trouble.

Lookit, my wife hides her tampons and dental floss (but not in the same place, thank G-d). Females can be a very private people and if you don’t want to spend the rest of your life in the bathroom with the water running and someone knocking and saying “Timmy, what are you doing in there?” then you better respect that privacy. Another human’s anatomy gets personal and no matter what you might think you think, you don’t want to go there.

This greatly simplifies the issue. In real life guys have no vote on this, so politically it should be the same and I for one don’t mind being let off the hook. So half of these screaming idiots on both sides are gone immediately, and apparently the armed/dangerous/armored half. Then get the courts and politicians out of there, which is just….eww. Next, firehose all the protesters. This serves no practical purpose and will almost certainly exacerbate the situation, but it would be a shame to pass up the opportunity when they’re all gathered in one place.

What’s left? A doctor and a patient. The patient may or may not be pregnant with what may or may not be your child (you may pay for all expenses, however because if you didn’t actually get her knocked up then you were at least thinking about it). There may be extenuating circumstances, there may not. Preachy doctors can be fired and fussy patients can be referred, and women tend to get what they need and are experts at knowing what they need. I know, I made the mistake of asking once. Once.

If Rush Limbaugh doesn’t want people to know where he got his Oxycontin then he should take his microphone out from where it doesn’t belong. And if Tiller didn’t want his brains all over the pews then he should have kept a lower profile, right or wrong. And let’s all just leave the ladies alone on this one. A man’s been killed and it wasn’t necessary. Another faces the death sentence. Sun Tse taught me never to enter a battle you’ve already lost, and as a man I decide…in the immortal words of Chesty Puller…to attack in a different direction instead of retreat.

If I’m going to protect someone, to throw my ring in the hat for the best contestant, to pour heart and soul into an issue and believe in it with the power to die for it (without actually having to, hopefully), then the choice is simple.

It’s not a woman’s right to choose. It’s her right to follow her heart after she knows. And that mystical perception, that ever-trustworthy instinct for life, is exactly what we enslaved them for in the first place, guys. Let’s not muck it up now by interfering and feasting once again on the media fast food already being ordered over the dead bodies of our brothers who each thought they were protecting their sisters.