Do I have to explain every little goddamn thing?

So I was going to come in here and throw a fit about the evil beast that is Sarah Palin, but my homeslice the Hip Hop Lawyer, the sharp-clawed Spanish Johnny and the potty-mouthed Mega Superior Gold covered my major points for me, and with less foamy spittle and more … whaddyacallem … actual words … than I could reasonably have summoned.

So lemme hone in on an issue highlighted rather brilliantly by Samantha Bee on the Daily Show’s RNC coverage: the issue of choice.

Choice only really means one thing in today’s America. And the Republican/Neocon/Godbag demographic is decidedly, loudly, unilaterally against it (often with charming posters and rousing slogans!). But hey now, here comes Sarah Palin’s 17-year-old daughter, knocked up by a mouth-breathing, Junior-Federline jockstrap of a kid, and all of a sudden, what happens to the fetus is “Bristol’s decision.” She “decided” to keep the baby (and to marry L-Fed) (as IF) (whatEVER) so we should keep our dirty paws and filthy minds out of it and leave the poor girl alone how DARE we bring this into the discussion!

"Decision," though, as Samantha Bee points out, is a synonym for “choice.” And the “decision” this girl is making is one her own mother and her mother’s political party want to keep every other woman in the world from getting to make for herself. (Watching those Republican conventioneers try to wiggle out of saying “choice” was one of the most painfully funny things I have seen in the history of ever.) And this, folks, is the reason the unfortunate Family Situation of Bristol Palin is a legitimate issue in this election.

See, here’s the thing: if you could ever imagine any human female, ever, reaching the conclusion that it would be best for her, the fetus, and/or the rest of her family to terminate a pregnancy, YOU ARE PRO-CHOICE. Even if you think it’s mostly godless heathen hippies having baby-murdering parties for fun, BUT you could see driving your fourteen-year-old daughter to the hospital to abort the pregnancy that resulted from a roofie-enabled date rape – YOU ARE PRO-CHOICE.

Nobody loves them some abortionatin’, I promise you that. But YOU don’t get to put conditions on it – what business is it of yours if it was rape (how do we propose to test and regulate that?) or incest (gonna go before a judge with your Uncle Dale to tell your story?) or to save the woman’s own life (sop up your tears, get a babysitter for the other two very-much-wanted kids, hobble into court with your doctor and two independent inspectors with testimony about the gnarled state of your uterus, and we’ll give it a listen, there, missy)? Besides, who the fuck are you – you alleged small-government fucktards – to tell ME I “could just put the baby up for adoption”? There’s no “just” about pregnancy and childbirth, you smug shiteating swine, and Sarah Fucking Palin – mother of five (or four …) – ought to very well goddamned know that.