R.I.P, Miss Molly

Last Wednesday, political columnist Molly Ivins died from breast cancer. And with her died one of my craziest "dreams": a debate between Ms. Ivins vs. Ms. Coulter (preferably live and in person, rather than written).

Ms. Ivins was my personal litmus test--could I read someone with whom I disagreed on almost every issue and still enjoy it? Still appreciate her use of language, of metaphor, her skill in writing? For a long time the answer was "yes." Sadly, however, I found that Ms. Ivins' BDS (Bush Derangement Syndrome) was becoming more and more severe and I was finding it more and more difficult to read her column and appreciate her style. I didn't know that she was suffering from cancer and that she knew this third recurrence was terminal. That would account for a certain amount of shrillness in her writing, a certain desperation in her attacks.

But, BDS aside, I also detected a growing attitude of dismissal for those of us who disagreed with her position on other matters, notably abortion. Ms. Ivins seemed to think that those of us who might object to on-demand abortion wanted to condemn women to a life of "breeders," who were not happy unless women were kept barefoot, pregnant, and in the kitchen.

Funny, I'm not barefoot, pregnant, nor in the kitchen much. Nor have I ever been. I just happen to think that abortion is killing a human being and all the fancy Latin words and arguments of "embryo" versus "fetus" (or "foetus") doesn't change that. And because we are killing a human being maybe we should take a look at why. And how we can avoid it.

Kathleen Parker, over at Townhall, has a lovely tribute to Ms. Ivins that comes close to expressing how I often enjoyed Ms. Ivins' writing while completely disagreeing with her conclusions.

Unfortunately, some of the comments were not so kind. (But then I was taught not to speak ill of the dead--for one thing, they can't defend themselves.)

So, Miss Molly, I hope you find an unending supply of paper in heaven and that your pencil never goes dull. I hope you're able to let go some of the hurt and pain and see the Truth as it is--and that you're not disappointed.