Demons of Democracy – The American Conservative

Abortion advocates demonstrate outside the United States Supreme Court building on May 4, 2022 in Washington, DC (Photo by Kevin Dietsch/Getty Images)

For our wrestling is not against flesh and blood; but against principalities and powers, against the rulers of the world of this darkness, against the spirits of wickedness in high places.

In early spring, a wild red fox took up residence on the grounds of the United States Capitol. She began attacking passers-by (including at least one reporter and one congressman) and turned out to be enraged. She died at the federal‘ hands on April 5, with all his children.

On Monday, May 2, another fox chewed through a fence and made its way onto the grounds of the Smithsonian National Zoo. It killed a northern pintail and 25 flamingos, wounding three others in the bloodiest scene of senseless violence the public attraction has seen in decades.

The next day, May 3, I am standing outside the Supreme Court when a strange-looking old man catches my eye. He is over six feet tall, totally bald, has a broad nose and a prominent forehead. Something disturbing behind his eyes. White alligator-skin cowboy boots and an ill-fitting Roman collar under a black t-shirt that reads, among other things, “The morals of lesbians, gays, bisexuals and transgender people are worse than those of animals. Evidence: The National Zoo. He calls himself Reverend Leroy Swailes, although I’d like to know who actually ordained him.

He’s not the only one here with religious motivations. Jamie Manson, M.Div., president of Catholics for Choice, is among the guest speakers as demonstrators gather to protest Judge Samuel Alito’s leaked draft opinion in Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Healthwhich would reverse Roe vs. Wade and its federal mandate to legalize the murder of children.

She calls[s] on President Biden, who is a pro-choice Catholic” – here the crowd cheers wildly – ​​for “leaving no stone unturned” in the attempt to prevent any restrictions on abortion. This includes, for some reason, “putting the Equal Rights Amendment out so we can be in the Constitution.”

Manson has made a career out of publicly flouting the authority of the Church, especially when it comes into conflict with American left-liberalism. Last year she did a Jack-Chick-in-drag number in the New York Times, ranting about “insidious papal teachings” on gender, sex and life. Yet today it stands as something of an authority on true Catholic morality. She cites specious polls and celebrates the abominable tragedy that even Catholic women kill their children in abortion, as if to suggest that the pervasiveness of sin is some kind of imprimatur.

Others are more honest about the distance they have covered. One woman (I don’t catch her name) explains that she grew up Catholic, “and then I learned that if women don’t have this basic right to abortion, they’re nothing more than slaves of their reproduction. Much like in other post-Christian countries like Mexico, Colombia, and Venezuela where abortion restrictions have been rolled back, she sees the best way to preserve the license for infanticide as passionate protesters “in the streets with a wave of green”, for the express purpose of disrupting social order unless satanic demand is met. People took the message to heart: DC churches are already preparing for intruders at mass this Sunday.

The night before, as the fox tore the flamingos’ house apart, the spiritual warfare had taken on a different valence outside the Supreme Court building. Young men from the Catholic University prayed the rosary as pro-abortion protesters crowded around them shouting vile obscenities. I intervened when an older guy put his hands on one of them. He was tall but oddly built, an S-shaped figure comprising a beergut and a concave chest, an outstretched neck topped by a bald head, his face (of course) covered by a mask. He wore a lavender t-shirt that read “Hug Life” and appeared to depict two naked cartoon characters in a bizarre side-by-side embrace. In graphic detail, he explained how he wished my “mother had strangled the life of [me] the second [I was] born.” He mumbled things about rape and murder. His honesty — the unabashed, unabashed evil with which he professed what he was there for — was shocking, but telling.

The exchange broke off when a fight broke out a little to my right. A pro-life man (I spoke to him a little later) in business attire was standing at the edge of the crowd when another of the agitators – a skinny kid with long hair, blackened clothes and a black bike helmet and his face hidden behind a mask and a bandana – came out of nowhere and hit him. The pro-life guy took a hit in self-defense; antifa bro slumped to the ground, then got up and rushed into the crowd. Here, even the violence is pathetic.

In the light of day, everything seems even sadder. The air of drama and immediacy that barely hovered over the proceedings on Monday evening disappeared entirely on Tuesday morning. As Manson and others who see an opportunity here — Amy Klobuchar still thinks she could be president — spin on the microphone, the Blue City’s usual cast of white-collar protesters filters through.

“We all know this court ruling is fucking racist nonsense, so I’m not going to talk about it,” someone says over the audio system.

A dude’s sign is a flattened U-Haul moving box with wire hangers taped to it. In red and black marker it is written: “Marbury v. Madison ≠ precedent established. Judicial review is also not in the Constitution. I doubt he came to this opinion while reading The Warren Revolution. “Reproductive Health=Trans Health” not only seems counterintuitive, but a bit impossible. “Keep Your Rosaries Out of My Ovaries” misses a number of points. “You f—king f—ks” is vague but versatile, I guess.

The chants, like the man from the night before, are surprisingly lewd. “Abortion on demand and without excuse” is a simple staple. “Free abortion on request.” “Our children need the right to abortion.”

California Congressman Brad Sherman speaks. An egg-shaped woman in a bright yellow, translucent jumpsuit demands to know through her own megaphone: “Why do men talk? Why do – men – speak?

The girl in front of me with two middle aged women must be 7 or 8 years old. They gave her a cardboard sign with “My body, my choice” in clear adult handwriting.

A little to our right, a small group of pro-life demonstrators counter-manifest. They have a huge poster showing the body of a child murdered quite early in gestation: dark eyes sitting in a bulbous head, small arms taking shape at his side. One of the pro-abortion women ventures out to take a look. She almost falls, and lets out a howl hihihihi cackling that is not only sincere but somehow inhuman. “They’re trying to say it’s a baby,” she shouts to her friends in disbelief. “It’s like cells.”

The chants continue behind it all, the responses are all quick and well-rehearsed. At the microphone, an activist shouts: “This is what democracy looks like. The motley herd echoes the words: “This is what democracy looks like.”

On this point, at least, I fear they are right.

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