New Song Lyrics

From: Lilith von Fraumench <lilith@ZubJenius.com>
Date: Sat, Jul 10, 2004

It's a ballad, too, although it could be made death metal, or at least
rock anthem. Maybe all three. Maybe simultaneously.

***

The village is starving, there's nothing left to eat
The neighbor cross the path would make good meat

How to feed the baby? You just don't know
It's best to go bury it in the snow

Bloody fetuses feel no pain
If you do it right, it's humane

Agamemnon went to war
And sacrificed his daughter to be sure

Tlaloc demanded sacrifice
The Aztecs drowned their children to suffice

Bloody fetuses feel no pain
If you do it right, it's humane

And God told Abram, Kill your son
Whoa, I only said that to have fun

And Woe to Babylon, you'll be destroyed
They'll dash your brats on stones... and enjoy

Bloody fetuses feel no pain
If you do it right, it's humane

In China they used to kill their girls
In fact I think they still do kill their girls

Adoptive white folks don't care for boys
They'd rather throw them away like broken toys

You think abortion is a sin
No matter the condition a woman's in

But nothing will stop infanticide
At least we have the brains to do it inside

Bloody fetuses feel no pain
If you do it right, it's humane

Lil

--
\m/ -=8=- I'm back. =-8=- \m/

----------------------------------------------------------------------

From: "alliekatt" <pogmothon@myarse.com>

I saw an article on that in a magazine. A full term baby girl in china left
to rot in the street gutter, still with hospital gauze on her head from the
birth. And people ignoring her, passing her by. I nearly boked.

Cultures that don't love women deserve to go extinct.

Lilith von Fraumench wrote:
> Adoptive white folks don't care for boys
> They'd rather throw them away like broken toys
>
> You think abortion is a sin
> No matter the condition a woman's in
>
> But nothing will stop infanticide
> At least we have the brains to do it inside
>
> Bloody fetuses feel no pain
> If you do it right, it's humane

Precisely why I bred now instead of in 1990 when I was bitterly pregnant
with a proto-being who as a person, would have recieved the angry brunt of
my lack of living experience. Choice is essential.

In Brazil where a friend of mine worked on her doctorate, she was in some
villages where hunger was rampant. the scary side of it was this: in a
situation of starvation, a human mother will usually elect to neglect the
youngest first and give food to elder children, turning the youngster into a
bad luck charm, a scapegoat, denying it love. Makes biological sense but is
no less icky. So naturally you hear of these occasional twisted poebucker
families here in the US, who have a six year old in the closet weighing
fifteen pounds and can't walk, who somehow becomes a scapegoat for the
family's problems and is blamed for any number of malfunctions. Welfare
does not allow this to happen, but FUCKED UP biology obviously does.

The mistake I made after my abortion was a) I tried to stay with the father,
and fact is, that's toxic to relationships because it's the biological basis
for bonding.
-(Unless it's an abortion because mom's too sick or fetus has spina bifida
etc in the ultrasound. If she wants an abortion for career, college, etc.,
then she doesn't really love him enough and still wants to party, but if she
tries to stay with him she's dependent and scared of doing it on her own.
She should grow up and go out in the world because the only outcome of
abortive relationships is pain and suffering. I know I'll catch heat for
saying that but it's the same for him if he wants the abortion. He may
abandon her, but now he abandons her with a choice and there are plenty of
non-DNA producing families who want Reality field legacies to adopt if she
goes through.)

and

b) I stayed silently guilt ridden for a decade and unwilling to even pick up
an infant, with major blocks to the thought of loving one to the exclusion
of all else. Which is why spawning scared me to fucking death.

The positive outcome was: I remained relentlessly idealistic about how much
a man had to love me before I was passively willing not to use LOTS of birth
control. I mean, there had to be some MAJOR chemistry and deep bonding.
Which is why the men I didn't freak out and scare away, we ended up letting
go after a month or so or as with my first marrige, calling what worked as a
business partnership a relationship.
I also partied for a decade, struggled for what I needed, discovered what I
wanted, and found out what I loved most in the world and gave me Slack to
the exclusion of all else.
And also why I picked my later mate from a culture where women make
themselves less available, and more demanding in areas other than career and
housework. And the more hot blooded a man is about his mate, the more
willing the fe-mate is to mate. He's very exasperating at times and has a
limited education and more familiar with labor type work, but hey, when it
comes to near-perfect love there ain't an unblemished outerly perfect one in
the store no matter how much money they make.

Now, my experience with spawning is:

You gotta love your spawn or they end up broken. No love, no person.

Spawn is relative. It does not have to consist of genetic copies. It
consists of emotional readiness to pass on a legacy whether it's DNA or
Reality Field.

If I love my mate first very much, and make the effort to tame his
exasperating qualities on a longterm level, and stubbornly refuse to be
compromised, then he either goes away or loves me more. He didn't go away,
so when we had our oops, it wasn't an oops that made me cry or panic.
Essential ingredients for loving support.

I may be a freak and a jerk at times as a post-adolescent uncooperative
culture-jamming SubGenius adult, but dammit, I was loved and wanted and if I
had NOT been either loved or wanted, I know that I would rather have stayed
on the Possibility Plane. Preferably as an unmet sperm and egg, but if
death had been quick, then fine. Which is why the Morning After pill and
first trimester endings are best for big oopses. The thought of second
trimester makes me squeamish and hurty on behalf of a creature that is able
to feel pain and is going through first engrams of experience, even if it's
muddled voices and heartbeat. But that's just me NOT being in a crisis
pregnancy.

alliekatt

Up one level
Back to document index

Original file name: New Song Lyrics.txt - converted on Saturday, 25 September 2004, 02:05