The right to choose, as far as I can tell, is the right to halt existence merely for the fact it exists. On the face of it, it seems a very wrong kind of right. Setting aside for the moment its ethics, which sound distinctly Luciferian, the right to choose doesn’t even sound like a right. A right is not something one can choose. And to choose something is not a right—it’s a fight. A battle of wills within oneself. In fact, one may or may not choose most anything except their right. And one may have almost any kind of right as long as they didn’t choose it. A right is not something given by anybody, it is granted by the universe. And it is not granted simply to anyone, it is granted to everyone. A right is granted at the moment of creation to all men.
To demand a right for oneself that hasn’t already been granted by the heavens (which is the same as demanding of the universe the right to be what one is not; or to put a fine point on it: the right to be unpregnant when one is not), exactly forces someone else to bear the full, earthly weight of responsibility for that right. Which is not only the height of selfishness, it forces into a pair of handcuffs that unsuspecting person, taking away (if you will allow me a little fun) their involuntary right to bear arms, which is the right to exist with two free hands (even to defend themselves)—which is to exist.
If the argument is about choice:
Rights are miraculous precisely because one can not choose them, they are granted. Responsibilities are miraculous precisely because one can choose them, they are accepted.
It is only when one accepts responsibilities voluntarily, that everyone is granted rights involuntarily.
A right is miraculous because it is granted, regardless if it is accepted. A responsibility is miraculous only when it is accepted, regardless the cause.
If the argument is about the circumstances:
The how or when or under what circumstances an existence came to exist is a terrible reason to abort it. Because the how or when or circumstances of coming into being are completely arbitrary to the being who came to be (just like you and I, I might add arbitrarily). I could just as well have arrived in 1873 as in 1973 as far as my being is concerned. I could just as well have been born the son of a pickle farmer or the daughter of a pickled banker as far as my being is concerned. And as far as they are concerned, the farmer, the banker, or the entire Western Hemisphere may be in a pickle by my arrival, but I would only be in a bassinet.
One thing is for certain: once existence exists, the last thing it is is arbitrary. Which means the first thing it is necessary.
If the argument is about time:
Time is completely arbitrary. It is relative. Just ask Einstein. It absolutely does not matter whether it is one month or 9 months. It is the same. You might as well say because it is harvested in November, corn doesn’t matter in June.
If the argument is: Unconscious tissue isn’t alive.
Then I argue as you sleep tonight that you aren’t alive. What does it matter that a thing is unconscious just before it wakes up? We are unconscious 1/3 third of our lives. Some people are unconscious eight hours a day, some only two. One time my room mate was unconscious 24 hours straight. Using the abortionists’ logic, I could steal my roommate's roast beef sandwich at midnight but not after seven; or maybe, if I timed it right, I could wait until his eyelids begin to flutter. And I could happily claim the sandwich was mine because I was hungry, he wasn’t conscious, and a sandwich was in my refrigerator. And if he woke up groggy and thought it was Tuesday instead of Wednesday, maybe I could take his sandwich even then.
And if the argument is over whose tissue it is, then I say it is as much a woman’s tissue as a woman is her mother’s tissue. And I will gladly concede that to a large degree a woman’s tissue is her mother’s. Doesn’t she have her mother’s eyes? Her skin? Her bad knee? Does that mean the mother can come over and do her daughter in simply because she wants to? She can’t even come over and do her daughter’s hair simply because she wants to.
But even if a good bit of a woman is her mother’s, is she ALL her mother’s tissue? If so, where did she get that brown hair and that crooked toe? And that funny nose? And what about the parts of her that aren’t anyone’s tissue at all? The ones that really make her her? Whose tissue, exactly, makes her so angry at stumps? And whose tissue, exactly, makes her so delighted in stamps? Whose tissue makes her pinch her pennies when she’s nervous and whose makes her pinch her nose?
It is insanity.
Abortionists are so hungry they eat their own feet.
Abortionists defend the rights of everyone! Making a better world even (and most importantly) for the ones who aren’t here yet! Abortionists defend with their right hand exactly the ones they slay with their left.