So what happened to ‘My Body, My Choice’?

By Jack Cashill

If there is a silver lining to the crisis afoot in the land, it is the exposure of so many progressive bromides to the disinfectant called reality.

For instance, not since February have I heard anyone insist that our urban future demands increased population density and more public transportation.

This means that every single American city’s “blueprint for the future” is headed to the Internet equivalent of a shredder.

Events of the last month have so eviscerated the last 50 years of city planning I almost feel sorry for the planners.

The Sierra Club, for starters, may want to run its promise that “public transportation gets people places safe and effectively” by the conductors on the BMT Canarsie Line. And not since February have I heard anyone use the phrase “carbon footprint” save as a punch line to a joke.

For the foreseeable future, light rail has been fully derailed, and “suburban sprawl” will be, if not cool exactly, at least OK.

Meanwhile advocates of “globalism” like the New York Times’ Thomas “The World Is Flat” Friedman are pretending they never thought of economic nationalism as a “golden straitjacket.”

Nor is Friedman tweeting at the present moment such pearls of hubris as, “It is pure idiocy that Congress will not open our borders – as wide as possible – to attract and keep the world’s first-round intellectual draft choices.”

Rumor, unconfirmed of course, has it that Friedman suspended construction of Manhattan’s first wet market. Reportedly, the brand name “Bats ‘R Us” was not testing well. Truth be told, “open borders” isn’t testing all that well either.

This past month, I have not heard anyone call the folks who grow stuff, ship it, stock it and sell it at Walmart “deplorables.” In 2020, the “deplorables” are the new “essentials.”

Although the abortion industry is going gangbusters in the blue states – it will kill more Americans this week than the coronavirus has since it first hit our shores – its sloganeering may have to change.

Of course, the phrase “my body, my choice” never made any sense to begin with. No one cared what the sloganeer did with her body. It was that other beating heart within that rightly concerned her fellow citizens.

The last month has shown the essential emptiness of even the slogan. If anyone on the left has protested the state’s control of our bodily movements, I haven’t seen it.

Indeed, my progressive friends have been savaging me on social media for daring to think that what I do with my body is my choice.

And we’re not talking about faux bodily rights like abortion. We are talking genuine First Amendment rights such as freedom of religion and of assembly and soon maybe even of speech.

If I want to protest in the park or pray at church or dive head first into a mosh pit, it should be my right to do so as long as I respect the old libertarian saw: one guy’s right to swing his fist ends at the tip of the other guy’s nose.

The left’s argument against this freedom exposes the emptiness of one additional bromide, namely that everyone has a right to health care.

I am told that if I recklessly expose myself to disease, I increase the risk of the health care providers taking care of me. This argument is true enough, but it is irrelevant if health care is a genuine “right.”

It’s not. Only God gives out rights. The only way the state can make health care even a counterfeit right is if it forces providers to take care of us at the business end of a gun.

Health certainly isn’t a right. It’s a blessing. We have a moral duty to take care of it and to protect the people who protect us. As individuals, we are far better equipped to make these decisions than the soulless career bureaucrats who are making them now.

One more thing. If we can’t blame the Chinese for the coronavirus, can we please stop blaming smallpox on the Europeans?

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