The Kansas chapter of the National Right to Life Committee has just published an in-depth summary of the recent history of late-term abortion controversy in our state. If you are not aware of this controversy, I highly suggest you take a half hour to read this article and learn the details, regardless of your geographical origins. I assure you, there is no exaggeration in the reporting here. The press against Phill Kline is relentless and violent; every time I pick up a paper when I'm visiting my folks back home, the editors and journalists kick and spit on this "hayseed Torquemada," this "right-wing fanatical ideologue". No stick is too good to beat the man with. One begins to wonder, in the absence of any positive qualities whatsoever, how the man ever got elected to any office to begin with.
It is a struggle that parallels with startling precision the slavery controversy that played out so dramatically (and violently) in 19th-century Kansas. The principles in question pertain just as directly, if not more so, to the question of human rights; the derisive and bewildered gaze with which we look rightfully upon slavery proponents of yesterday will one day be turned upon us here and now, and just as rightfully. Let the thought of that piercing gaze shrivel and crush this willful corruption of justice.
[In case there is some ambiguity regarding the title of this post, I do not mean to advocate violent resistance of the abortion industry; in this regard, John Brown would most likely despise those of us who pursue justice through law rather than violent conflict. Nevertheless, he was a visionary willing to make tremendous sacrifices in order to snap out of complacency the people of his time who were perfectly fine with allowing millions of human beings to be subjected to the cruelest forms of abuse and oppression because it was simply the way things were. That Kansans cast the late-term abortion issue in terms of "justice" when a massive memorial of this man has been enshrined in our state capitol only indicates the inability of our citizens to learn the lessons of history. My guess is that each time Governor Sibelius thinks of that terrifying mural, she either runs her mind in circles trying to rationalize her conduct or resolves never to let it cross her mind again.]