HOUNDS OF THE BASKET CASES
Dr. Barnett Slepian lived about 15 miles from where Timothy McVeigh used to live. There must be something in that western New York air which causes some people to get overly excited.
The good doctor, who has now gone to meet the big guy in the sky, had an Armenian name, attended a synagogue and doodled with christian things. He was a man for all condiments.
By now, you should know that this doctor was on the short end of a bullet and didn't live to tell about it. It's sort of ironic since the hundreds of unborn infants who were on the short end of his scalpel, or vacuum tube, didn't live to tell about it either.
Unless he was completely out of touch with reality, Dr. Slepian must have known that his abortion practice wasn't conducted with a 100 percent approval rating. In fact, he must have been aware that his business was guaranteed to piss off millions of men and women. (I am equally sure that the objects of his callous butcheries would also have felt the same.) When one has a large piece of the population contained in a vessel of subdued hatred, it should come as no surprise that one of the kernels pops before the rest. Such is the state of our insane society which only a fool could believe would get any better. The government, and the population as a whole, no longer has the backbone to make any hard choices -- necessary choices.
Abortion is little other than a woman deciding to have her unborn child executed because its continued presence represents an inconvenience for her. Dr. Slepian played the part of a paid executioner in an affluent community. Oh yes, the career twats, and their dyke leaders, will bubble and foam to the effect that it's "a part of my body and I can do anything I want with it." Blood analysis can easily prove that the embryo/fetus is a living entity entirely separate from the mother, as if any sane person needed convincing anyway. DNA matching adds a finality to any further dispute. I have often wondered how many of the "pro-choicers" would be breathing today if they had themselves as a mother. Hypocrites, to the last!
Dr. Slepian, if he were a realist, would have known that he was in dangerous waters and if sane, he'd have stuck to the slicing, gutting, and drugging, which meets with general social approval. I am sure that he still could have maintained his luxurious life-style if he ceased entirely to play the part of a mass murderer. Just as there is assuredly something amiss in the noggins of those who choose to be executioners for the state, so there is something wacky in the noggins of those who chose to be executioners in the private domain.
Already the wails and sobbing are increasing in intensity and, if we are to maintain consistency, some sort of memorial will be constructed for this victim of "hate" so that people can wallow in self-pity for at least until the next Murrah Building goes boom.
I am sure that if Dr. Slepian had died as a result of an automobile accident, the death would not have occupied much more than 30 seconds on the local commie radio. The personal loss to his family would have been the same unless I am unaware of some hierarchy of misfortune which is dependent upon the means whereby one dies.
The sanctimonious nature of most Americans, and in particular the politicians and news farters, prevents any return to reasonableness. Instead of addressing the question as to why so many Americans are unhappy in this garbage dump of diversity, our masters will simply get harsher and thus aggravate an already deteriorating situation.
If Americans really had a community then there would be such a thing as community interest whereby the so-called rights of the individual would be subordinate to the interests of that community. We have it ass-backwards. One crackpot utters a shriek, and the whole damned place comes to a halt in some futile effort to placate the squawker. A healthy society would tell that individual to "cool it" and if he didn't understand, then a ball bat should be applied squarely, and with considerable kinetic energy, to his face.
In the second section of the Hippocratic oath, the physician pledges to refrain from causing harm or hurt. As Dr. Slepian looked into the stainless steel waste bucket, he asked, "Hey kid! Did I harm, or hurt you in any way." After hearing no reply, the doctor said with a smile, "You see. Who's complaining already?"
by Robert Frenz
27 October 1998