I know what you’re thinking. What could this picture of the murderous mascot from the 1984 slasher film Girls Nite Out possibly have to do with the 2013 March For Life in Atlanta yesterday? sTICK WITH ME, It’ll become obvious in a minute.
First off though, thanks to everybody who offered their prayers of support for the march, it was much appreciated. As usual it was pretty much standing room only for the pre-march rosary and mass at the Shrine of the Immaculate Conception. I can tell I’m getting older because kneeling on those wooden floors in the back is hurting just a tad bit more each year. Still, a few sore knees are worth it to see the building overflowing with people enthusiastic for the cause. But better yet, while I couldn’t find any official numbers, I’m pretty sure the crowd at the march itself topped last year’s by at least a thousand. Whether that means we’re slowly winning the argument or just that more folks are willing to show up when it’s not pouring down rain I don’t know, but the increased attendance was gratifying no matter the reason.
However, also in attendance were about six or seven (seriously, a whole whopping six or seven) counter-protesters, including what has become an almost ubiquitous sight at any event involving abortion… two women dressed in vagina costumes. I gotta tell you, there’s nothing like walking out of a 140 year old Catholic shrine after mass with the Archbishop and making your way down a few blocks to where a frazzled looking woman dressed in a saggy vagina outfit stands on a street corner and screeches into your face that she is not an incubator.
In all honesty, my first quick thought was that I kind of missed coming to downtown Atlanta every day to go to college like I used to back in the day, because you just don’t get this kind of quality crazy in the suburbs.
But my second thought was… I just felt bad for these women. Not a shred of anger at all, just pity. Look, I know I made terrible decisions in my youth, some directly related to my presence on that corner yesterday, but what series of life choices do you have to make that results in your winding up on a public street in your middle age, dressed up like a mascot for Team Lady Parts, cheering on the destruction of human life? As much as I wanted to work up a little indignation and find evil in their faces, all I could really see was someone so lost that it just made me incredibly sad. So, despite the fact that they think I’m Hitler and it’s the last thing they’d ever want me to do for them, these ladies are now in my prayers. Outside of maybe offering some fashion advice, I just don’t know what else to do for them.
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