Because it is owned and operated by a Christian family, Hobby Lobby can now choose not to comply with any portion of the law that offends their sensibilities.
Thank you, United States Supreme Court.
Reminds me of an axiom circulating online this week: Things happen for a reason; and sometimes the reason is that you’re stupid and make bad decisions.
Ahhh! That helped a little.
My goal each week is to give you a laugh Dear Reader, but this week’s Supreme Court decision just sticks in the marrow of my funny bone. It felt good to vent. Glad to have it out of my system, for the moment, at least.
But as Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg declared in her dissenting opinion, “The fight isn’t over.”
I’m with “Notorious RBG” as Justice Ginsburg is now being affectionately called. I wanna dig out a tie-dyed t-shirt, paint my face and carry a torch. I wanna sit in. “Hell no! We won’t go!”
OK, wrong slogan.
What the hell are they thinking?? Don’t they have a big picture point of view?! Of all people the Supreme Court should be able to process the implications of their decisions. Can’t they see that allowing Hobby Lobby et al to cherry-pick the parts of healthcare LAW they want to abide by sets a bit of a precedence! Hello?!
You know, I don’t like it that as part of that same “mandated” healthcare package my tax monies pay for Viagra.
This is a deeply held belief of mine – a when-it’s-over-it’s-over philosophy that I believe men should accept. I’ve lived my life accordingly mostly because that issue doesn’t affect me.
So it just naturally follows that I would not fund distribution of such a drug. Therefore, next April, I’m going to draw a red line on my Form 1040 and reduce my tax burden accordingly. That’ll work.
All right, Carolyn. Mellow! Mellow!
You know what? My blood pressure is up and I want to eat a bag of fun-sized Snickers.
But I can let this go.
Let’s talk about something else. Something completely different...
I woke up again this morning with parrot tongue. This is a bad sign because I’m being told that someone in this house is snoring.
In case you’re unaware, parrot tongue is a well-documented syndrome whereby an otherwise cultured and genteel person tenderly rests her head on her memory foam pillow and falls asleep instantly, drawing her life’s breath orally.
That is to say she closes her eyes and steps off the precipice into the darkest depths of guilt-free slumber post haste. Sheep uncounted. Lips parted just so.
When she wakes, some seven stress-free hours later, her tongue is the tongue of a Mojave Gila monster; her house pets cower in the bedroom corners and her husband hovers gleefully with his iPhone recording ready to play.
“Ha ha ha!” says he. “Listen to yourself, Honey! You could peel the paint off the walls! Tee hee hee! Wait until our son hears this!”
First of all let me just say that, squirrel mouth aside, I do not accept that the racket on that recording came from me. My assertion is that my husband accumulated those sound effects over time in revenge for that innocent prank I played long ago when I dipped his hand in warm water.
No – those sounds came from somewhere else. Something else. Just recently, for example, he had to pry bent nails from warped boards on our deck. He could easily have had his recorder in his tool belt.
Our neighbor’s dog snarls at the slightest provocation. We visited Yellowstone when the buffalo were feeling frisky. Our house is haunted!
I don’t know! It wasn’t me, I tell ya!
All right. Let’s say Spouse A is possessed by the devil. She cannot control the proclamations of the Dark One! He has a lot on his mind and the volume set on 10.
Spouse B may be laughing but he’s looking frazzled.
This can’t be healthy physically, mentally or matrimonially! Medical science surely has some relief.
No worries. This one’s tailor made for Christian healthcare.