Abortion, The Old-Fashioned Way

All right, we've established our general base of operation here. The as-yet-unnamed prodigal son has returned, complete with white trash wife and hordes upon hordes of small hellions. It seems odd that they'd commentate "Stop hitting me!", giving credence to the popular "myth" that dumb people who go out and get married out of "obligation" tend to have miserable, abusive relationships, when after all, we all know God is watching and blessing those pre-maritally-consecrated sexual exploits.



Billy Bob. I think I almost preferred him as the unnamed prodigal son. But sure, this makes sense. The audience is supposed to take an unfavorable view of Billy Bob, since he's an abusive husband, and has no qualms about selling his family down the river when he's a bind. Just like any good Baptist.



Apparently, Selma doesn't DO dishes, and Ashley is on the road to hell, since she has forsaken her family and familial duties to go out on a date with Eric.



..what? All right, so Eric's a bum, and Ashley is following the same path as Billy Bob. However, I would have to question the validity of a father sitting reading his newspaper whilst his little girl goes out with some motorcyclist he knows to be doing her. Knowing paternal figures, I'd kind of imagine him being more of a Robert DeNiro-ish character, and waiting for Eric with a .308. But sure, suspension of disbelief. Now, we get to the secret rendezvous of the two lovers, and the introduction of... birth control?! No, not birth control! Has the Good Book taught you nothing?! Be fruitful! Multiply! If Darwin has taught us nothing else, it's that the responsibility of inferior genes is to propogate themselves before being wiped out in freak construction accidents.



Well, I guess we all saw that coming. You just can't have protected sex and not become pregnant in religious periphernalia; it's un-American. But, evidently, Ashley has simply continued the cycle, so she goes to Kelsey for advice. Now, notice the devious look in Kelsey's eyes; obviously, this is not a child of the Lord, so she has directed the will of Satan and told Ashley to go see someone about her problem, rather than just trusting in Christ to come through. Note Kelsey's evilly arched eyebrows and unnecessarily large hoop earrings; these are not icons of God's work, so this obviously means that Ashley is about to be steered down the Wrong Path.



Hmm. Handing out condoms... to HIGH SCHOOLERS? Why, this woman doesn't just work for Satan, she's one of his Lieutenant Commanders! As we all know, the way to make teen pregnancy disappear is to just stop talking about it. That way, no one will no anything about anything, so they'll feel no need to try anything out!

But I digress. Here, we see Ms. (wait... Ms.? That means she's not married. She's not married, yet knows about sex?! Cover your eyes, children, she might transform before our eyes!) Smith cast in a horrific role; distributor of propoganda and devices promoting promiscuity. Notice also the Snidely Whiplash eyebrows and the same sneering grin that Kelsey had. Here, she indicates that comdoms are not 100% effective. Well, I guess that means we'll have to trash them altogether; lord knows no non-100%-effective method ever worked for anything.



Well, well, well. The truth comes out. A fetus is, in fact, just a blob of tissue. Well, at least that's been cleared up. Apparently, one can also "do something" about the whole situation. We won't actually say the name of this horrible medical procedure, we'll just leave it up to everyone to guess at our ever-so-subtly masked references. Notice once more the expression of Ms. Smith in the right panel; her nose actually comes to a point, like witches of lore, and her eyebrows have more personality than Margaret Thatcher, what with their evil sine-curve shape. Her short, bobbed hair is also a vague reference to homosexuality (read some of his other works, you'll see what I mean), so this woman has sinned in triplicate: sodomy, abortion, and a blatant violation of that "honor thy parents" thingy. And she's corrupting innocent young Ashley!



Well, we all saw this coming; girl gets pregnant, boyfriend skips town. What we generally wouldn't see coming, but couldn't miss if we tried in a packet such as this, is the desperate plea for divine interference. Even if I had never read another thing by this guy, and saw JUST THIS PANEL, I could tell you what happens next...



Hmm. Scumbag boyfriend, proper parental figure. Wait, I know this one! I'll bet Uncle Mike kicks ass and takes names, and shows Eric the true path to salvation! Plus, his completely tangential remarks about how a fetus is just tissue will be a perfect leadin to a 10-minute "discussion" as to why life begins at conception, and God is watching that precious wad of stem cells from day 1.



He's sick of all this lying propoganda recklessly dished up by high schools around the world. Well, with good reason. When somebody goes completely haywire and bombs an abortion clinic, he's doing the Lord's work, and tends to get reduced sentence among conservative juries. When the a department chair of an Ivy League university voices the idea that maybe fetuses aren't kids, he gets the boot. Plus, this well-respected doctor has ultrasound that proves that it's a living baby!.



As expected. As a medical professional, he is firmly of the belief that life has already begun. And, what's this? He has SCRIPTURE? SCRIPTURE backing an ignorant, backward belief that can't possibly stand the tests of science? I've never seen such a thing in all my life!

Incidentally, can I start defining life like Jack Chick? From now on, there's to be no more of these seven rules of biology crap... no, nothing's alive unless it has fingerprints, urinates, makes fists, feels pain, and has God watching its back. A+.

Also, as long as we're here... what in the hell is he holding in his right hand? It looks almost like one of those digital thermometers, but... why? Are you going to determine that Eric's feverish condition somehow affects the state of life/death of said unborn infant?



God will hold ME responsible? Oh, no! Something must be done! For I have now recanted all my evil ways of 4 minutes ago, and accept my responsibility to save the life I just wanted condemned to death! Jesus saves!



And... I'll be condemned to Hell?



NOOO!!!
Yes, Eric. But wait! There's a loophole!



Eternal life!
..what?



This may seem like an odd time to bring it up, but what's the deal with capital letters for pronouns? I know, I know, he's the Big Fella in Charge of Everything, but the whole idea of the pronoun is to not have to refer to the noun in question by name. So, in effect, you're saying that your idea of a sumpreme being supercedes my grammatical conventions. I'm afraid that just isn't kosher. Pick your methodology; you can either be German, where every Noun has a Capital Letter starting It, or you can go with English standards: proper nouns get capital letters. There's no uber-proper noun, and certainly no proper pronouns.

Catholics. No respect.



All right... let me get this straight. If I go out today, murder the first eight people I see, then decide to break as many commandments as I can in two hours, then repent, and give my soul up to the Gospel, I'm in? Well. That's certainly I fine little loophole you've found there, isn't it, Jack?

And, as much as I hate to point out the nuances... I don't think Eric has assumed the proper position to pray for forgiveness. I think he's assumed the position for being violated, if you get my drift.



Note the look of despair in Eric's eyes as he desperately attempts to right the wrongs for which he is ENTIRELY RESPONSIBLE, and DID NOT GIVE HALF A DAMN ABOUT UNTIL 11 MINUTES EARLIER. So, now he'll just pick up the Lord's work, and cavort about merrily trying to stop this slaughter.



Why... look at that! He's wearing a helmet! He wasn't wearing a helmet back when he was a bona fide badass. I guess praying really kick-starts that old conscience, huh? Also, isn't that Ashley's sister-in-law who's driving here to the clinic? The same sister-in-law with a dozen kids, who has proven herself adept at little else than breeding? And, why is Ashley suddenly so gung-ho about stopping this whole operation when it was her idea in the first place?



WHERE DID HE GET THE SUIT AND TIE? He sure wasn't wearing it when he left the house a few frames back... did he stop off to pick it up en route? Notice the tears clinging to their faces as they realize their true love for one another, in a touching moment.

Once you've finished noticing that, give a little thought to their actual situation. Ashley dated Eric for exactly two months-- long enough for him to knock her up, run off, find Christ in a soda spoon, and come riding back in valiantly. They're now going to marry each other, based on an age-old tradition of penance: knock her up, you're stuck with her. We'll just COMPLETELY IGNORE the first 3 or 4 frames of the pamphlet, in which the white trash family comes to visit, and are unholy little monsters, which even the author acknowledges. Yet, somehow, the SAME THING HAPPENING TO ASHLEY AND ERIC is a happy ending. I'm confused.



Aww. How touching. She loves her l'il hellion, and finds him almost as important as Jeebus. Too bad she'll be divorced in a year and an alcoholic within three, driving l'il Nathan to the same pattern of abuse and abandonment, in a never-ending cycle propogated by religious ethics that brainwash the masses and discourage independent thought.

Now, let's examine those last points.

1. Abortion? No problem. Listen to our dogma, and we'll absolve you of everything you've ever done.
2. You're trying to tell me that Sam 12:23 actually tells us that if we killed a child prior to its being born, that we'll meet it in Heaven? Now, will it be aging in real-time, or will it still be a bloody mass of stem cells with no motor skills..?
3. God created it, huh? With no help from another party, to whom you're probably not married, and with whom you almost certainly failed to use protection? Good for God. I hope that immaculate conception thing works out for you.
4. So... not having mortally sinned is a plus, but you're willing to take me either way, no penance involved? Hot damn! Sign me up!


--Erik, 7/10/01. Religious paraphernalia? BULLSHIT!