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Behold Ye Olde Documentum

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And it came to pass, in the Year of our DonTrump 2020 ACE, that the Supreme Court again read the foundational document upon which the great 50 states were predicated and governed. And lo!

Verily, the nine justices under powdered peruke and black robe [occasionally punctuated with a single strand of Bader-Ginsbergian freshwater pearls] saw, forsooth, there was, in fact, nothing writ in the document that related in any wise whatsoever to the convention adopted many years agone, in 1973, in a writ of kid-woman-mandamus.

Let it be known throughout the publikingdom, a scroll went forth from the Ecru Mansion in the District of Columbia:

Thou shalt not slay the unborn, the firstborn or the noneborn from the wombs of the wives and wenches of the publikingdom, went the announcement, engraved on parchment purchased from Persia, as they had returned to ancient crafts, having peacefully yielded up their plutonium and refining of uranium under the “disruptor” mandates of High Chieftain DonTrumpetus.

[For under the ministrations of DoTrumpus, back the Persians had gradually wended to exquisite carpets from Qum, delectable Medjoul date honeys from Teheran and Tel Aviv, and silken parchment from the bellies of belching lambs, even from a recomposed Damascus, and a sedated Assad in his tented fastness in Syria.]

A great wailing arose in the land, a wailing not heard since the primitivist days of the hated Metal Hanger Death Plague, the which women were wont to compare to all evil, all reduction of civil liberties.

O woe, cried the tattoo'ed street waifs. Gnashing of expensive dental veneers was heard.

O grief-perishing horror, shrieked the Ladies Who Lunch.

Out of the corridors of corporate mischief appeared memoranda of despair.

What shall we now do, now that the blemishing of wombs with instruments of killation are now udderly banned? Asked the women, reduced to dating but one man, or residing with but one spouse.

How shall we persevere in life without the casual comfort of instant-calamitous decision? How then shall we cavort and prance in marvelous libertinism, if we are enjoined from wreaking end-times upon the unwanted fruit of our concupiscent caprices?

What then shall we do, they protested into the pale ochre vestibules of the Sam Rayburn edifice in the kingdom's Capitol?

But there was no answer. For the books had closed anew on the utmost nine-month nth-degree ability of all breasted citizens to end the zygotic result of erotic exult.

Nay, nay, sayeth the Court: Thou shalt not despair, fair ladies and what-have-you transgenderytes. Thou shalt instead return to the proven ways of olde. Commitment to coupledom.

Thou shalt not formicate without forethought. All connubial acts shall be, verily, only at the bidding and acquiescence of both parties to the coupling; all potential issue shall be accepted as a part of the double-back beasting thereupon. Accepted, not deducted. Concepted, not redacted.

Or, as of eld, woman shall pleasure themselves, or pleasure their menfolk, without the security option of killa tablets and post-coital vacuums.

Men shall henceforth reassume responsibility for the gentler gender [or what-have-you nonbinary confused humanoids]. They shall not with promiscuous wanton indulge without barrier methods. Gone shall be the guilt-free gallivant gallant of olde. Seed shall not be carelessly spilt. Instead, cherishing of a teeny tiny skootch of chastity shall obtain. Again. Renewed.

Whereas ministers and priests, rabbis and preachers shall renew their oratory against perversion, corruption, sloth, unpaid taxes and the like, abjuring the no-longer-crime of unwanted fertility and fecundity without responsibility. Banished and mannished.

Some, of a surety, called it madness. Some chained themselves to cobwebbed clinics and moaned for return to Abattoir on Demand. Some became nuns, though the fashion-forward could not for long sustain the dark and unchanging vestments. Bo-ring, they whispered. Wicked weird.

Eventually, true acceptance proceeded to descend upon the populace, and a measure of sanity was restored, despite the absquatulation of the wanton libertines, loose women and looser men that once roamed the tonier hotspots of the crimson-light districts. [ Where these went, only the gossip blogs knew.]

And upon the Earth didst fall the mantle of reasserted respect for life that once commended and cemented the populations of the country.

And all, together, didst sigh, amen. And, of course, awomen.

20©18 marion d s dreyfus

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Comrade Marion - your time machine seems to be working better than mine. Can I borrow yours sometime?

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