... so goes the quote from our Monks of Miscellaneous Musings as they detail Washington's decision to pay for abortions.
Driving around last weekend, I chanced to walk into a drug store where I saw an interesting couple in their mid-20s. He was covered in tattoos and wore a t-shirt where the front said something like, "My hands around your throat" and the back, "Your teeth sunk into my flesh." His girlfriend, a cute little thing, was shopping for this and that while he swore at her vigorously and told her she didn't need to buy anything. He went and shopped in the beer aisle.
Women's rights in general and reproductive rights in particular are all about cleaning up the mess after the woman is used and abused by a man. This young lovely had her "rights" "protected" only in the sense that after she put out for a knave and a swine, she could kill the results for free. In Washington, her "rights" now include you paying for it, although it's unknown if you'll have to pay for post-infanticide psychological treatment.
Meanwhile, if she didn't want to make the decision right away, bioethicists are debating the next logical step.
(Standard blog post image and snarky caption missing because the only analogy I can think of is Eichmann and the Wannsee Conference.)