(Ed.’s Note: This guest commentary is best read while whistling “When Johnny Comes Marching Home.”)
I write in support of a silent victim, one so denigrated that its silent screams often go unheard. Even those who defend life to the utmost are deaf to the plight of these literally millions of victims. If not murdered outright, these silent soldiers of humanity are prevented by unnatural means from fulfilling its destiny and purpose. For many long years this has been the case, but no longer. Thanks to stalwart soldiers such as Republican presidential candidate Rick Santorum, Virginia Governor Bob McDonnell, Congressman Darrell Issa, and others, the plight of these victims is silent no more. These brave men have shown true courage and exercised an unfailing resolve to protect that which is most precious and dear: My Sacred Sperm.
My Sacred Sperm brings forth life from lifelessness. Now, you young ladies like to go on about your nine-month ordeal and about motherhood. Motherhood is a most precious thing indeed, it is true. But without the proper injection of My Sacred Sperm, the subject of motherhood is moot.
For too long, men have had to contend with methods not mentioned or sanctioned in any sacred text that prevent My Sacred Sperm from fulfilling its destiny. First there was the sheepskin. While it wasn’t the perfect barrier, it did create an undue obstacle. My Sacred Sperm is to roam freely. It is strong enough to handle what could only be described as a hostile environment, provided that no other obstacles are put in its path. The sheepskin, however, is not the end of the story. Not content to leave well enough alone, next came the prophylactic of rubber, a torturous device that captures, contains, and smothers the life out of My Sacred Sperm.
These prophylactics, as vile as they are, do require the male partner’s willing participation. Now, upright men such as myself would never be cowed into wearing such apparatuses on our person. Undaunted, the enemies of My Sacred Sperm created other means of stopping or murdering the silent millions. The diaphragm, for one, plumbs the depths of subterfuge. Inserted without warning or knowledge, sometimes coated with pernicious substances to actively kill My Sacred Sperm, this thing is nothing less than a medieval device of torture and genocide. Those of great stamina can burst this dam to the Well of Life, but not all men are able to overcome its passive resistance. Shame to all women who would use such a device.
As evil as these devices are, none are as pernicious as that method of so-called “birth control” as “The Pill.” “The Pill” rapes My Sacred Sperm of its manly essence by drowning it in a sea of hostile hormones. It blocks My Sacred Sperm from reaching its target. And it belittles My Sacred Sperm by making the environment so severe that even if it has done its duty, the resulting conception cannot attach itself in the Halls of Life to nurture and grow. Thus, “The Pill” does that which is most unconscionable: it neuters My Sacred Sperm.
For too long, My Sacred Sperm has had to endure this genocide. But no more! Thanks to the courageous work of the men cited above, and their colleagues, the plight of My Sacred Sperm is silent no more. From now on, we will regulate and control all forms of so-called “birth control,” a phrase that is just a euphemism for sperm control. There will be no more barriers. There will be no more prophylactics. There will be no more “pills.” Henceforth, there will be nothing that will prevent My Sacred Sperm from fulfilling its duty as the seed, creator, and all-powerful granter of life, endowed by the Almighty Himself.
My Sacred Sperm will now be properly recognized as the holy water from which all good comes.
-Mr. Richard Foote-Long
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