Fetal Positions

phototake_photo_of_12_week_fetusPlanned Parenthood was recently the subject of a series of undercover videos about selling fetus parts.

It casually conducted some of its negotiations above specimen trays of aborted fetuses. In one video, an employee in a cocktail lounge sipped wine and joked that she wanted Planned Parenthood to make enough money from selling fetus parts to buy a Lamborghini. In another, a former employee described an aborted fetus whose heart was still beating before its brain was extracted through its face and sold.

We naturally turn away from the gruesome videos. But they do raise an important question that we should not turn away from.

The question is: What is a fetus? It’s a hard question that involves science, logic and morality. It concludes with a delicate balance of interests.

Before going further, I’ll stipulate that I have never been pregnant and never will be. Continue reading

But Cancer Doesn’t Have Me

“I have cancer,” was the title of my column last winter. It’s cancer of the prostate gland, an obscure, walnut-size gland in the male anatomy.

Prostate cancer is about as common as breast cancer. It’s a leading cancer killer among American men, second only to lung cancer.

It kills by spreading, typically to the bones, liver and lungs. Bones ache and break, the liver shuts down, and the lungs fill with fluid and blood.

If caught sufficiently early, however, the cancerous gland can be surgically removed in a five-hour operation. The anesthetized patient is strapped into an operating table 45 degrees upside down so that gravity pulls his guts away from the prostate gland deep in his lower abdomen. Half a dozen incisions are made across his middle. With the help of a computerized robot, the surgeon dodges intestines, nerves and blood vessels to access, cut free and extract the scoundrel.

The surgery often results in side effects such as incontinence and sexual dysfunction. An alternative treatment is to kill the gland with a radiation regimen, but that tends to produce the same side effects.

Another approach is to just carefully monitor the cancer. The growth of prostate cancer is usually (but not always) slow. Patients often live for years or even decades.

They call this “watch and wait.” What they’re watching and waiting for is to see if the cancer is spreading quickly enough to kill the man before something else does anyway.

Watch and wait didn’t fit my cancer profile. It was already Continue reading

Should Everyone go to College?

Guess what these people have in common: Ansel Adams, Walt Disney, Bob Dylan, Thomas Edison, Bobby Fischer, Henry Ford, Bill Gates, Barry Goldwater, William Randolph Hearst, Steve Jobs, John D. Rockefeller, J.D. Salinger, Taylor Swift, Ted Turner, Mark Twain, Walt Whitman and Mark Zuckerberg.

Here’s what. None of them graduated college. Several never attended. A few didn’t graduate high school and one didn’t finish the fifth grade.

They did OK.

Would Windows 10 be more intuitive if only Gates hadn’t dropped out of Harvard? If Whitman had gone to college, would he have referred to the “blades” of grass and not the “leaves”?

Would Ansel Adams have graduated to color photography if only he’d graduated community college? If Zuckerberg had gone to college, would Facebook stop pestering me to complete my bio?

No, no, no and no.

Here in the Roaring Fork Valley, educators pride themselves on the notion that 100 percent — not 75 percent or 90 percent or even 98 percent, but 100 percent — of their students should go to college.

Why? Continue reading

It’s His First Rodeo

CowboyChurchYoungRodeoClownIn the old days here in Aspen, the cowboys had an expression.  When someone questioned their competence, they deadpanned, “It’s not my first rodeo.”

This expression comes to mind after watching President Barrack Obama the last seven years.

Early on, he told a Republican Congressman with whom he was negotiating over the budget, “Don’t call my bluff.”

I’m not a saloon poker player, but I do know that when you bluff it’s important not to tell the other players.

Obama bluffed.  He told the Republicans he was bluffing.  He asked them not to call his bluff.  They called it.  And Obama folded.  Huh.

In the field of negotiating with the opposing political party, it was Obama’s first rodeo.

In his first two years, Obama Continue reading

The Dems Try to Spell ABC

“Anybody But Clinton” — or “ABC” — is now the battle cry of the Dems in the presidential campaign.

Here in swing state Colorado, and in other swing states as well, recent polls show Hillary Clinton badly trailing unknown Republican candidates. In particular, her scores on trustworthiness have plunged as people see her record of mendacity.

I’m not talking about the stale scandals of her husband’s presidency 15 years ago — the ones that Hillary attributed to a “vast right-wing conspiracy” until a certain stained blue dress turned up.

No, I’m talking about fresh ones. Just recently, Hillary:

• Set up a homebrew computer system on which she illegally intermingled government business as secretary of state, foundation business and personal business;

• Deleted 34,000 emails from that system after Congress requested them;

• Falsely maintained that there was no Congressional subpoena to produce those emails, and

• Falsely claimed that her email system did not transmit any classified government information. (The New York Times recently reported that in fact, it did. Two inspector generals — both appointed by President Barack Obama — are calling for a Justice Department investigation.)

Even prominent Dems such as Watergate reporter Carl Bernstein has publicly declared that Hillary Continue reading

Jurassic Pork

Infomania-Jurassic-Park-007aRemember “Veloci-RFTA”? The government bus guys (named Roaring Fork Transportation Authority paid a gazillion dollars for that name, and then laid enormous concrete eggs all around the bus stops so that you wouldn’t forget it.

It’s their name for the local buses. It’s a play on velociraptor, the dinosaur species that starred in the Jurassic Park movies. The expensive name is supposed to make you want to ride the bus more because, according to RFTA, people want to ride buses with “fun” and “unexpected” names.

That’s right, the government bus guys, who want to socially engineer us into government-mandated solutions to global warming/cooling/whatever, think we’ll ride the bus more if it’s named after a hybrid of their catchy acronym and an extinct chicken-shaped dinosaur that failed to survive a climate change 66 million years ago.

They failed. None of this succeeded in making me ride the bus more.

In fairness, the bureaucrats who, um, work here didn’t actually do this, um, work themselves. Continue reading

Beaton by the Potholes

The Managing Editor of your fine newspaper, Joanna Bean, invited me to write a column or two about the old days.   Those days and I are about the same age, you see.

In fact, I knew the Gazette when it was called “The Gazette Telegraph.”  And I knew Colorado Springs when it was called “The Springs” and not “The Potholes.”  I’ve been gone for 42 years, but now I’m back for a spell.

I attended Harrison High School – home of the Panthers — where I was shaken down daily for my lunch money.  I was famous there for being the younger brother of Mark Beaton, a terrific baseball pitcher who dominated the Gazette’s sports page as thoroughly as he dominated opposing batters.  A pitching Panther, was he.  A typical Gazette sports page headline from spring of 1970 was “Beaton Strikes Out 15.”  (Look it up!)

As for me, well, Continue reading

Who Wants a Race War?

A lunatic in Charleston, South Carolina, tried to start a race war a few weeks ago. He entered a black church, sat and watched for an hour as the congregation welcomed him into their worship and then murdered as many as he could. As nine laid dead or dying, he fled like vermin.

The nation was stunned. The police apprehended the killer. The killer confessed. The people of Charleston wept.

The killer’s diary revealed that he had no friends and no allies. He bemoaned the fact that even with the Internet, he could not find anyone — not a single person — to join him.

This lone loser failed to provoke that race war. He didn’t even provoke riots. Not even protests.

What he provoked was love. Strangers of different races held hands and hugged as they sang gospel hymns to honor the dead and embrace the living.

Just days later at the arraignment hearing, Continue reading

Black Like Me

“Black Like Me” — that’s the title of a 1961 book by a white man named John Howard Griffin, who used makeup and a very dark tan to look black for six weeks in the segregated South.

The lesson of the book was that it was difficult being black. Blacks were discriminated against. No sensible white person would pretend to be black.

Things have changed.

It was recently reported that Rachel Dolezal, a darkish-skinned woman with frizzy hair, pretended to be black for the past decade. She didn’t suffer racial discrimination. In fact, she enjoyed racial favoritism. Her fake “blackness” got her a job with the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People, a professorship in African studies and a city job as an ombudsman.

Her parents finally outed her, stating that her ancestry is actually German and Czech. Childhood photos show a freckle-faced, pale girl with blond hair.

Blondes may have more fun, but blackness, she discovered, is a ticket to a prize in the affirmative-action game. Continue reading

Life, Liberty and Happiness

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Our parents’ generation had no time to pursue happiness. They were too busy saving the world.

But the blood, sweat and tears sacrificed by “the greatest generation” in saving the world wound up making them happy, too.

Their offspring — a generation that has bled less blood, perspired less perspiration and shed fewer tears than any generation in history — perceive “happiness” differently. They see happiness not as the incidental effect of a life lived well. For them, it’s the whole purpose of life.

“Happiness” is all we want. Our parents became happy by being great. We, in contrast, think we can become great by being happy.

We don’t exactly know how to achieve our happy goal, but we think we know how not to. “Happy life,” we happily theorize, must be the opposite of “hard work.”

So are we happy yet? Continue reading