Thoughtful thoughts on abortion, coincident with something I've been thinking about since seeing that ghost last week at the PJ Harvey concert.
27, 28 years ago, pillow-talking, she told me she'd had two abortions. When I asked what the fathers had wanted, she said when birth control failed and she got pregnant she reserved the right to not tell them - and me, should it happen - about the pregnancy, much less the abortion. I saw her birth control dispenser, I'd occasionally in the morning see her put a pill in her mouth and swallow, I had no doubt she didn't want to get pregnant (and I didn't want her to get pregnant), but that conversation broke whatever spell of grateful submissiveness I gave in exchange for her attention - it made me aware of how zero choice I had in all things as contractual terms for her continuing affection. My total and thorough submissiveness gone - it was soon to happen, this conversation was just a catalyst to the inevitable - she lost interest in me faster than I lost interest in her, but she always had to be (and I'm guessing still is) the dumper, never the dumpee.
I'm not trying to make any larger point here other than I've never been asked what I thought should be done with an unplanned and unwanted pregnancy of which I was half responsible. I remain curious what I would have said if I had known and been asked. I believe I would have deferred to the woman's decision as a matter of principle not practicality, though knowing me I bet I'd have argued to have the kid.
Which may be why if it did happen I wasn't asked. Which was the woman's right.
*
- Christian group sues for right to burn books.
- Fear rules.
- UPDATE! Greenwald lays the smack on goldbergian pussies. Gratuitous? Sure. Fun? Yup.
- Let the sunshine in.
- Progessive-Ade!
- Assassi-Nation.
- UPDATE! Re: the nonsense at Shakes, THIS!
- The Right, still .06% shittier.
- Satire of Death (w/xlent downloadable playlist).
- On the National Review Beg-a-thon.
- UPDATE! Re: this, this.
- Clockwork strip search.
- America's Mean Streak.
- Parts two and three of Jim's Delillo ur.
- A review of William Logan telling today's poets to get off his fucking lawn.
- Streaming WHFS2? First song I hear? Suckitysucksuckity Soundgarden. Oh well, it was worth a try for old times sake, old times that will never return.
- Mid-year best of music list includes WUSSY.
- Hating the Sex Pistols!
- Todays' Listening Assignment (yes, again, though not Wussy).
- Today's Listening Assignment.
- Today's Listening Assignment.
- Today's Listening Assignment. (Start w/Upper East Side)
- Today's Listening Assignment.
*
Self Portrait on a Rocky Mount
C.D. Wright
I am the goat. Caroline by name. Née 6 January. Domesticated
since the sixth century before Jesus, a goat himself.
We have served as a source of meat, leather, milk, and hair. Our
flesh is not widely loved. Yet our younger, under parts make
fine gloves.
Our of our hair - pretty sweaters, wigs for magistrates. Our
milk is good for cheese.
We share these gifts with Richard Milhous Nixon, who gained
national prominence for his investigation of Mr. Hiss.
We're no sloth, full-time workers at the minimum wage. We
had an annual income last year of $6,968, a little less than
your average subway musician.
Our horoscope assures - we will be a great success socially and
in some artistic calling.
We are surefooted, esp. on hills. We live on next-to-nothing.
The week's victuals: ironing board covers and swollen
paperbacks. Our small hills of filings fall under the heading
of useful by-products. This we call Industrial Poetry. Both
of us Bearded, Mystic, Horned.
*
Yes, my renewed love affair with Archers of Loaf continues: