Wormwood Weighs In on Planned Parenthood’s Private Parts

IMG_0063Don’t fool yourself, the Planned Parenthood scandal is dangerous to us in hell. When everyone’s talking about our work, someone will see the artist’s fingerprint. Not in the sense of “There’s a demon,” or “The devil made me do it,” but every expose shines an unwanted floodlight. Just like Planned Parenthood, we in hell hold privacy in high regard.

As a result of your efforts in the Los Angeles judicial circles, not nearly as many of our patients will see the Planned Parenthood videos, but shackling the press may not have been your best move. Under the tutelage of my sagacious uncle, Screwtape, I’ve been making my way up the ranks of hell, and I’ve learned a few things about humanity along the way. You may think you’ve made a keen chess move covering up Planned Parenthood’s private parts, but when the whore dons a habit, suspicion isn’t far behind. I tell you, we do better to deal in the open. To prove my point of brazen-works-best, I used to invoke the example of the relative safety of smoking pot on the White House lawn, but our efforts on that front have been so effective that soon one will be able to have a marijuana picnic on the White House lawn. Relativism, I get high on it alone… but I digress.

Every up-and-coming tempter feels the need to try something fresh and original and over-the-top macabre. That gets you on youtube, for sure, but it doesn’t get your patient tubed, if you pardon my pun. I just love puns. And being funny in general. Nothing does more for our cause than crass humor. If you can get your patients to mock and laugh at righteousness, you can consider them your next meal, burnt as it may be. Again, digressing.

The collateral damage we demons have taken by these images of lilliputian arms and legs, torn apart and scattered on a pie dish or the blitheness of Dr. Nucatola as she describes just the right way to crush a person so as not to waste, cannot be understated. Though you think your efforts with the restraining order are commendable, anyone with a molecule of discernment will see a neon flag barely less obvious than the hastily-sewn fig leaves. Cover ups serve only to scrawl our Father’s name in large letters. A restraining order was the worst move to make and belies your vanity.

If you can’t learn to work in anonymity, you’ll never get anywhere in hell. My advice is to use the subtler brush– delegation. Think about it. The first victory we had was in the garden, inciting that wench to do our work for us, to awaken in her a coveting for a power that wasn’t hers and would make her ours. Now, to her daughters who find themselves in a position to play god with the life growing within them, we give them that same damning power, and they wield it marvelously. They use it and call it a “right.” Makes me want to giggle. This Dr. Nucatola, a great physician if ever there was one, feels justified in desiccating smaller copies of herself, all in the name of scientific progress or Lamborghinis or “breaking even.”

To make the decision on when a person becomes a person has never been ours to make. Or theirs. But what a grand victory to delude them into usurping it… well, we’re sensational, I tell you. Absolute genius. And no resting on our toasty laurels– we’ve got scads of tempters working tirelessly to make sure that the person or faction who calls our spade a spade, is dubbed ignorant, dogmatic, extremist. Oh, I could go on, but you know all our names. Sticks and stones and names, even symbols– all useful to us.

We need to get busy, cleaning up your mess in California.

Warm regards,

Wormwood

The Raw Homeschool Mom, My eBook

RHM Cover FINALOne of my goals last summer was to publish an eBook. I did it this summer– better late than never. Were I not the perfectionist I am, it wouldn’t have been all that monumental a task, but I am the queen of revisions. I read and re-read, suddenly hating this or that, spending hours and hours rearranging a few hundred words. When I finally did publish it, I felt I was running away from my masterpiece more than birthing it. I felt like Victor Frankenstein, who found fault with his creation once it woke up and got off the table. I published it so I would stop dissecting it. Am I alone in this?

What prompted me to write was my reading of The Diary of Anne Frank (the unabridged version, which shows the depth and complexity of her personality and contains an element of sexuality).  It was surprisingly interesting, considering it was a teenager’s diary, unadorned, uncut. I thought, perhaps I can journal about my own little room and its perils, just as Anne did– minus the sexuality. My eBook chronicles my time homeschooling our four kids and is sometimes funny, sometimes sagacious, sometimes desperate, like when I decided to withdraw from Zoloft cold turkey in the middle of the academic year (a stunt nearly as stupid as piecing together a monster form body parts).

Writing every day took a giant bite out of my time. Again, because of those revisions. An average post cost me about two hours. Two hours could have made a five-star meal or cleaned the house to a Martha Stewart glow… but instead, I had two hours’ worth of blog post that sat on the cyber-shelves. So I dusted them off, edited them until I wanted to puke, and published them before I actually did. The Raw Homeschool Mom is my confessional, my brag, my Bible devotional. I set out to stop wearing the power suit in my writing and tell it true. The only how-to in my book is how-to persevere. I’m a fan of perseverance, which is helpful to writers, singers, actors, painters, or any other unrealistic occupations people pursue while making money delivering pizzas or working at Costco.

If you are at all interested in pursuing homeschooling, or if you just want to eavesdrop on an eccentric lifestyle, download my eBook here or click the image in the right margin. It’s a ride on the floppy coattails of a homeschool mom’s mind.

#rawhomeschoolmom