Thursday, March 24

PEGGY NOONAN STANDS TALL AND WRITES ELOQUENTLY

Do take the time to read Peggy Noonan's eloquent column in WSJ.com Opinion Journal. She appropriately points to the nastiness and hate-mongering of the zealot "tube-pullers" and tries to plumb the depths of their contempt for life.

Everyone who has written in defense of Mrs. Schiavo's right to live has received e-mail blasts full of attacks that appear to have been dictated by the unstable and typed by the unhinged. On Democratic Underground they crowed about having "kicked the sh-- out of the fascists." On Tuesday James Carville's face was swept with a sneer so convulsive you could see his gums as he damned the Republicans trying to help Mrs. Schiavo. It would have seemed demonic if he weren't a buffoon.
She continues:

I do not understand their certainty. I don't "know" that any degree of progress or healing is possible for Terri Schiavo; I only hope they are. We can't know, but we can "err on the side of life." How do the pro-death forces "know" there is no possibility of progress, healing, miracles? They seem to think they know. They seem to love the phrases they bandy about: "vegetative state," "brain dead," "liquefied cortex."

You'll find those kinds of phrases in "Comments" responding to my posts. I've left them there, except for the most detestable and profane, as examples of the extremist, pro-death Left.

There have been a number of thoughtfully written "Comments" challenging my thinking and commentary on the Terri Schiavo controversy. I respect their deep-felt beliefs and that's why I allow the posting of "Comments" at my site. To be contrary is not to be wrong. To be contrary is not to be unintelligent or uncaring.

I listened intently to Congressional Democrats and Republicans alike (viewing them on CSPAN) voicing opinions far different than my own and expletives and execrable descriptions of brain-damaged people were not necessary to make their case. What is it with these fringe people? Why do these captains of death boil with rage?

Ms. Noonan goes on:

The pull-the-tube people say, "She must hate being brain-damaged." Well, yes, she must. (This line of argument presumes she is to some degree or in some way thinking or experiencing emotions.) Who wouldn't feel extreme sadness at being extremely disabled? I'd weep every day, wouldn't you? But consider your life. Are there not facets of it, or facts of it, that make you feel extremely sad, pained, frustrated, angry? But you're still glad you're alive, aren't you? Me too. No one enjoys a deathbed. Very few want to leave.
Most compellingly, Peggy Noonan points to the impact this controversy and the extremist views it has fomented may have on this nation's children, as they ponder and absorb the discourse of those who find the term "sanctity of life" the empty phraseology of contemptible "do-gooders":

Terri Schiavo may well die. No good will come of it. Those who are half in love with death will only become more red-fanged and ravenous.

And those who are still learning--our children--oh, what terrible lessons they're learning. What terrible stories are shaping them. They're witnessing the Schiavo drama on television and hearing it on radio. They are seeing a society--their society, their people--on the verge of famously accepting, even embracing, the idea that a damaged life is a throwaway life.

Our children have been reared in the age of abortion, and are coming of age in a time when seemingly respectable people are enthusiastic for euthanasia. It cannot be good for our children, and the world they will make, that they are given this new lesson that human life is not precious, not touched by the divine, not of infinite value.

Once you "know" that--that human life is not so special after all--then everything is possible, and none of it is good. When a society comes to believe that human life is not inherently worth living, it is a slippery slope to the gas chamber. You wind up on a low road that twists past Columbine and leads toward Auschwitz. Today that road runs through Pinellas Park, Fla.