Waffles and Abortion

You know, I hear many forced birthers cite time and time again that abortion, EC and so forth are ‘bad’ because of the poor little baby. Often times these folks are of a religious bent and they try to guilt women by telling them that the ‘baby’ is just as good as a breathing human being. 


Now, I have many, many reasons for being (as one blogger put it) radically pro-choice. Some of these reasons carry different weights on different days. Clearly, one of the biggest reasons is because without reproductive freedom for ANY reason women aren’t free. My feminism ties very closely with my radical pro-choice views. My views on the environment also ties in closely with my pro-choice. I am not a moderate pro-choicer by any stretch of the imagination. I’m all for RU-486, or the abortion pill, being available to any woman who asks for it with no questions asked hell, I’d advocate over the counter sales if there are no health risks attached.

From actual mechanical abortions to Mifepristone (abortion pill) to EC to plain old birth control, at any time during the pregnancy and with no questions asked (other than actual medical questions) I’m pro-choice. One could say I’m ardently pro-choice, or even rabidly pro-choice *grin*.

One of the many reasons I’m pro-choice is due to my spirituality. I hear a lot of talk about the souls of these 2 week old ‘babies’ from the Christian camp who tend to believe that god on high has given someone a ‘miracle’ when he ensouled a fetus. Now, I don’t usually post about my own spirituality on this blog but some of you have heard me allude to my spirituality in a joking way over the EC thing and I’ve received several emails asking me about it so I’m going to go ahead and bite the bullet and tell everyone what I think about fetus’s and souls. Hopefully I can give everyone a good laugh while I’m at it and make everyone wonder if I’m serious or not *wickedgrin*. What follows is my interpretation of souls and babies and why abortion is a good thing.

Ok, let’s assume for a moment that all the religious types are right; let’s assume that humans and every other living organism has a soul. So here we are, a bunch of souls running around in human suits (or dog suits, or fish suits or whatever…souls aren’t just for humans you know *wink*). We’ve got our human suits and when we die we turn back into fun little blobs of spiritual energy, our souls are released from our suits when we die.

So, at the moment of death our souls just sort of leak out of our bodies and we’re just a ball of light that runs around all pure and happy and stuff.

Now, if you’re a Christian you may believe that you get whisked off to heaven or hell or wherever you’re supposed to go. If you’re a pagan you likely believe that you jump into another body and start again in a fresh suit. If you’re an atheist you believe that you just kind of blink out, but if you’re BB you believe that you kind of zip around creating as much havoc as possible.

Heh, let me explain. Here’s my theory:

Souls are like waffles! Yep, that’s right; we’re all like a great big bunch of cosmic waffles made up of all these little squares. Now, through our lives we are soaking in butter and syrup. Now normally we’d like a waffle that has lots of butter and syrup but for the purposes of my spirituality we’ll assume that butter and syrup are bad things. For the purposes of this analogy butter and syrup make our waffles mushy and unpalatable.

So, all our lives we’re soaking in butter and syrup. Now, some of us are big waffles and some of us are small waffles, like those tiny little waffles that are on the kids menu at restaurants. The reason that some of us are small waffles is because we may have become too soaked with butter and syrup to be a palatable waffle anymore. When this happens we have to undergo a painful ‘dewaffling’ process in which Mother has stripped us of the icky waffle squares and, being the master recycler that she is, recycled them and left you with however many squares were salvageable.

In any case, when we die our waffles sort of leak out of our human suits and we realize that we’re waffles once more. Normally we get really happy about this and say, “Awesome man! School’s out! It’s summer break!” and we prance around excitedly at the whole new world before us. We see all these other waffles kind of hanging out and having fun and we buzz away from our now defunct human suit and begin hanging out and having fun along with them.

We take a quick inventory of how many squares we have, sometimes we may have lost squares and sometimes we may have gained them, but then we’re off to party with the other waffles that are buzzing around.

Now, if you’re one of those gigantic belgium waffles you may hang out at slumber parties and make Ouija boards move on their own. Or maybe you’ll slam a few random doors and freak people out, who, after all, are still trapped in their human suits and have forgotten that they too are waffles. The bigger waffle you are the more fun you can have.

But there is a drawback. See, our human suits are also important. They act as a ‘battery’ that keeps us running and once that battery goes out you’re on borrowed time. If you’re a bigger waffle you’ll be able to have a longer summer break because all those nooks and crannies tend to hold more of a charge. But if you’re a smaller waffle then your summer break is shorter (maybe you have to go to summer school, I don’t know) the point is that if you’re a small waffle then you don’t have as many golden brown nooks and crannies that you can subsist on indefinitely.

Eventually all waffles become weak and then, a ‘miracle’ happens.

But before we can talk about the miracle we need to turn our thoughts to a newly impregnated female. When a female (whether that’s a human, or cat or even a housefly) is impregnated it changes her waffle signals. Once that little zygote is formed the waffle in the woman suit becomes a bit like a magnetic waffle. Yep, that little zygote needs a waffle to fill it and thus it begins to act like a magnet.

Now, here we have this woman kind of running around in her human suit but her energy has changed and now she’s a magnet and she’s running around oblivious to all the waffles who are hanging out at the pizza shop and enjoying summer vacation.

So this newly zygoted female is buzzing around and all the waffles are going, “OH SHIT! There’s a magnet! Get out of here! Run! Run!!” and the waffles scatter and bolt because they’re all having fun fucking around with slumber parties and passing themselves off as the Christian god to good pastors around the world (where do you think all those prophecies come from and the idea of the rapture? It’s really waffles talking to waffles in their human suits! Waffles are quite amusing when they realize what they are)

And so when a magnet shows up the waffles all bolt as quickly as they can. They run screaming from slumber parties and away from haunted houses as speedily as possible. It becomes a virtual waffle stampede! And this is where it gets fun.

As the waffles are running away screaming “The fuzz is here! Run! Run!” the bigger ones manage to outrun the smaller ones. And when the smaller and weaker waffles are too slow or too busy to notice the magnet coming their way they get sucked into the woman waffle whose energetic signature has changed with stupid sperm. Now, I think that the size of the woman waffle also plays a part in it. Maybe, if the waffle inside the woman suit is a big waffle, she can suck in the big waffles. I’m not too sure about this point and I haven’t given it much thought. However, the ‘miracle’ inside of the zygoted woman is more likely to be a busted waffle who couldn’t outrun the fuzz than an actual willing participant.

See, being a waffle is a bunch of fun. Hell, who wouldn’t want to scare people or talk people into believing that you’re a god or a faerie or dead Aunt Martha? And so the actual desire to be stuck in a suit again is pretty low. Most of the time waffles don’t want to go back to school, at least not until they’re ready. Now, the discerning waffles among us will realize when they’ve all but used up their battery and before they get sucked into another waffle they make a choice and they jump willingly into a waffle of their choice. But too many waffles get carried away with summer break and they party right up until their last night at which point they get sucked in anyway.

The problem is that there are way too many zygoted people running around and the poor little waffles can scarcely enjoy their well-deserved summer break without being sucked back in.

The good news is that we have abortions which give the waffle another shot at having fun. When we get abortions we release that poor waffle-napped waffle and free the little sucker so that she can continue to wreak havoc with Ouija boards around the world.

 

Unfortunately if the waffle was sucked into a woman waffle that has been seeping in the butter and syrup of Christianity then the poor waffle-napped waffle doesn’t stand a chance. And so the waffle is stuck in the zygote but it takes a long time for our waffle to forget how cool it was being a waffle and it remembers how much fun it had pretending to be Aunt Maude or making dishes fly out of cupboards and so it voices its frustration at being trapped by kicking relentlessly inside of its little waffle prison (human or animal uteri *grin*).

And then, when that waffle is born in a brand new human suit it screams and cries for no apparent reason because all of us old waffles stuck in our human suits have forgotten how much fun it is to be a waffle. The newborn baby is just pissed off and trying to tell everyone just how much it sucks that it’s stuck in another human suit.

Unfortunately the baby forgets soon enough, it’s like a coping mechanism for waffles because if they remembered just how much fun it was to be a waffle free of a human suit then all humanity would be committing suicide at the age of two. And of course that’s not good because then all the waffles are just running around with no Ouija boards to fuck around with and we wouldn’t want that!

Now, everyone has been both male and female waffles so one time you may get to be a magnet (which, after you die you remember and you laugh about) and the next you may get to be a waffle that runs scared from the magnet. It’s like a big game of waffle tag wherein sometimes you’re “It” and other times you’re “Not It”.

So you see, the ‘miracle’ of pregnancy is really just a waffle-napping *nodnod*, some poor waffle was just minding its own business when it got sucked into a magnetized waffle. To most waffles abortion is a boon because being stuck in human suits is uber boring compared to the fun you can have as a waffle.

The moral of the story? Think of the waffles, have an abortion.

~BB

Post Script:

The best part of this post is this: Is it satire? Or is it real? Is BB simply pandering to the trolls? You decide. Either way, I think that starting a ‘think of the waffles’ campaign is a good idea *nodnod*

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Published in: on May 31, 2008 at 2:09 pm  Leave a Comment  
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