New Constitutional basis for re-establishing right to abortion

With the recent dismissal of the Constitutional basis for privacy and personal control of one’s body and property derived from the Fourteenth amendment (protecting “persons born or naturalized in the United States” i.e. irrelevant in protecting unborn entities), the proponents of the right to abortion need a new approach. With the decision that fetuses are a matter of controlling interest to the government (prenatal wards of the state, perhaps?), I propose that the Third Amendment now has relevance to this issue.

“No Soldier shall, in time of peace, be quartered in any house without the consent of the Owner, nor in time of war, but in a manner prescribed by law.”

The Government (Supreme Court, GOP, whoever) has apparently decided that the fetuses are not in control of the person in whose body they reside. The Supreme Court, etc, are demanding that these unborn non-citizens be involuntarily housed in nonconsensual wombs. Since the Supreme Court has chosen to conscript these “individuals” under Government control, the term “soldier” is not a far stretch to cover the relationship newly established. It is likely that the Third Amendment would also prohibit the Government (federal, state, and local) from compelling the quartering of postal workers, FBI/IRS/CIA agents, or any other governmentally controlled person. And so, the Government-”adopted” unborn wards should be properly prohibited from peacetime involuntary quartering. If the Government wants these fetuses, it must arrange alternate housing without the nonconsenting Owner of the womb. Wartime “baby factory” legislation will be required to be enacted to provide the needed “prescribed by law” condition.

Hooray for Charles Babbage

Today has been two hundred years
Since Babbage proposed his design
For his first machine built from gears
For calculations to streamline.

They did not build one at that time,
Not until nineteen ninety-one;
It would cost too many a dime
And would weigh over fifteen ton.

But from his thoughts and bit of loom,
With punched cards to give instruction,
Came computers to fill a room
And our personal seduction.

Automation does labor save,
As was Babbage’s intention.
But the ease can also enslave
To this versatile invention.

So, thanks to you, Charles Babbage,
And I regret that Rhymezone says
Your name only rhymes with cabbage,
But it made me lazy these days.

I’m A Toad Again

(tune: On the Road Again, by Willie Nelson (1980))

I’m a toad again
That witch turned me into a toad again
My princess left me when my eye wandered
And here I am as a toad again

I’m a toad again
With my life going down the drain
Sitting in a pond, out in the pouring rain,
And here I am as a toad again

I’m a toad again
My bride was the daughter of the witch
Life with her was a strain
So to another I made a switch
And ‘cause of which

I’m a toad again
It just seem that’s my life’s bane
Seeing swarming flies coming at me again
Oh yum, I’m a toad again

Bargaining With A Witch

“I don’t want to be a frog” was my furtive plea.
“The taste of flies and such has no appeal for me;
If not warts, it will most certainly give me acne.
Do you have other choices of what I could be?”

“This is not a McDonalds,” said the angry witch,
“There is no menu for you to choose which is which
And I do not care how much frog skin makes you itch.”
She was getting madder; I could tell by her twitch.

“Well, I guess you are right; I am sorry I asked.
It is for you to select what curse will be cast.
I’d no thought to offend when by your house I passed –
‘Though this mistake is my first, let it be my last.”

“So, you will admit that you did me a great wrong,”
Said the witch, with a stare, so frightful and so strong.
“You trespassed in my woods where you did not belong
And you tortured my ears, singing that awful song.”

“That is what I did, and I readily concede,
That it’s hard to forgive such a dastardly deed.”
So elegantly sorry it was I did plead,
By the tear in her eye, I thought I would be freed.

But some small flaw in her character I did miss -
Perhaps, where her heart should be, she had an abyss.
So that, fair maiden, is why you find me like this.
Do you think you could spare me just one little kiss?

Monster Under My Bed?

When I asked who was under my bed,
“Well, not a monster” was what he said.
Before that reply I had my doubts,
If that indeed was his whereabouts.
But now I knew and I was quite sure –
‘Though not if to fear him less or more.

“If not a monster, then what are you?
And under my bed, what do you do?”
But he did not answer right away,
He needed to think of what to say.
How could he explain his presence there
In a way to calm me, not to scare?

“Oh, I am nothing much, made of fluff,
Dust bunnies, socks, and other lost stuff.
I never come out – I’m too afraid –
I do not like sun, only the shade.
I am no worse than dreams in your sleep
And believe secrets are made to keep.”

It made me think and try to fathom
The life of an underbed phantom.
In his place, quiet and secluded,
He has heard everything you did,
But if to Mom you don’t turn him in,
He won’t tell on you – that’s a win-win.