Rose is a rose is a rose is a rose

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet." - William Shakespeare

As summer rolls forth and the roses bloom, I contemplate one, sad rose: Lila Rose, aka. Live Action cover girl and puzzling breed of UCLA alumni.

For every schizoid, Scott Roeder, there is a seemingly sane and quasi-educated (well, if being home-schooled doesn’t delude—she was first inspired by her parents’ book, Handbook on Abortion, which is dubbed hella-anti-choice by Amazon, and it’s worth noting she’s even *exposed* UCLA’s student health center), anti-abortion obsessianado to startle us in our tracks, if not to inspire tears the size of a seven-week embryo.

Somewhere between the man-crazies who are somewhat, simply corralled into one, large lump of woman-haters, Anti-Anti’s sexy antis, the nuns, and the innocent children antis—there perched, is a Lila Rose, and her dozen or so minions, hell-bent on clawing abortion’s eyes out.

But, really. I don’t care to wax on this poor, misguided girl. I, too, was a too-devout Christian once and said fantastical things just like Lila Rose:

I believe with my whole heart we will be victorious, just as I pray and believe in the Kingdom of God and that we can do God’s will on earth. We have a perfect loving God who inspires and authors our work. If we lay down our lives, we cannot fail.

Luckily, I went to college (after public school and reading books like The Scarlet Letter, The Crucible, and Light and Matter: A Physics Textbook) and discovered THE PATRIARCHY.

Ever think about how *God* and *Jesus* of *The Bible* are both detached *men* (ahem. Please excuse me, I mean, a *father* and a *son*), exalted as all-powerful, all-omniscient, and all-loving, yet neither could hold a candle for even one woman but virginal Mary. Totally weird. I’m sorry.

However pretty or presidential or conniving or meditating Lila Rose and her blah blah mission to save innocent life may be, if she were walking into any medical arena other than the ever-non-judgmental and accommodating world of reproductive justice, she’d be slapped with the paranoid schizoid label and medicated into a California corner where she could write, unplanned parenthood, all over the walls into eternity.

And for the record: there was no rapture. Yet, I had hoped we’d have this place to ourselves—this Kingdom of Earth, this age of the present moment (where abortion helps women). Instead, I’ll keep reminding myself that my conversations may be recorded for ignorant purposes…

Author’s note: This Abortioneer knows well that wherever there’s a *president* such as Lila Rose, there’s a Board of Operational Rescuers and a team of $upporters giving her the go-ahead.

PS. This post lacks links for obvi reasons.

PPS. Beware the anti-Girl Scouts. Yikes!