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Doce me faces voluntarem tuam quia Deus meus es tu

Friday, March 18, 2005
There was a saying among gay rights and AIDS activists during the initial HIV outbreaks during the 1980s.

If you're not mad, you're not paying attention.

Conservatism tends to pride itself on its ability to remain calm and focused. We don't often make a loud ruckus; we work out our political salvation in the think tanks and classrooms. We are unlikely to take to the streets. That tendency was what always appealled to me concering liberalism. I was always intrigued by the willingness to protest publicly against a percieved injustice. Maybe it was my youthful interest in punk rock. I'm not sure. Not much gets me angry anymore, but to continue with the punk rock metaphor, the case of Terry Schiavo makes me want to reach for a microphone and scream at the world. Well, not the world so much as that vile husband of hers and the depraved Judge George W. Greer.

What a terrible situation. Should our outrage ever move beyond e-mails, phone calls and blogs? I don't suggest violence, but where are the protests? I am paying attention, and I am angry. This is not a living will or death with dignity and it's not even some form of euthanasia, however inexcusable that would be. This is murder, and we must call it so. If Terri Schiavo is killed, we should not hesitate to loudly and forcely call Michael Schiavo and George W. Greer what they are. Murderers.

For more information, read this old NRO article by Wesley J. Smith. Hugh Hewitt is talking some sense as well.

As adamantly as I oppose abortion and assisted suicide, I realize that practioners of such things often believe they are doing the right thing, the helpful thing. We should be strong in our opposition, but such issues have become entrenched to the point that we must now engage in dialogue. The days of calling abortion doctors murderers as part of routine discourse has passed, for better or for worse. Terri's Fight is altogether different, however; a life on the mend is soon to be extinguished.
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