Category Archives: Culture

A Quick Survey on Abortion

I am very curious about something.  I’ve been thinking about a couple of conversations that I’ve had with individuals over the course of the past year with regard to the issue of abortion.  I am curious to see patterns of thought with regard to this issue.  I have some suspicions, but I want to broach the question to a broader audience (the readers on this blog).

Also, an important caveat: assume that the mother’s life is not threatened by carrying the pregnancy to term.  I should have clarified this in question #2, but I did not.

I realize that this is completely unscientific and non-representative.  I also realize I can’t confirm if each individual votes in all three polls.  That’s fine.  I just want to get a general idea regarding how people perceive the abortion issue from a moral and political perspective.


Poll: Is Copyright/Patent Violation Theft?

One issue that I’ve thought about recently is copyright and patent law.  Both subsets of law deal with the same issue of intellectual property.  Within the free market community, there’s a pretty substantial difference of opinion regarding the ethical issues related to intellectual property and related laws.  I’ve developed my own opinion, but I am curious as to what the opinion is of those who read this blog.   I’ve thought about writing a post in IP, but I would like to first gauge my audience…and if enough interest is generated, I will consider writing more about the issue of whether or not IP laws are justified.

Thus, I have constructed a poll.  Please vote, share, and comment with your thoughts!  I say a lot on this blog, but I would like to hear from you on this issue, particularly if you feel strongly one way or the other.  In fact, ideally I would love for this to perhaps spark a (respectful) comment debate if enough people weigh in.

“Mommy!” – A Short Story by Jason Hughey

In response to the Casey Anthony non-guilty verdict, many people are expressing outrage.  I admit to being upset over it as well, but I also must admit that I am not surprised.  Additionally, my anger over this case does not exceed my anger over legalized abortion.

A justice system that legally protects and sanctions the murder of babies inside the womb cannot be expected to deliver just verdicts.  Although it is right to be upset about the Casey Anthony trial as a great injustice, we cannot lose sight of the fact that mothers murder their children by the thousands every day under legal protection.  Based on this precedent, Casey Anthony should’ve been expected to go free all along.

This is the fundamental issue: Casey Anthony, if indeed guilty of this murder, did nothing more than what happens every day legally in abortion clinics.  If you are outraged over this trial, then I must ask you, where has that outrage been every single day when you thought about legalized abortion?

That’s all that I’m going to say from an analytical perspective.  Instead of further analyzing the case, I’m going to re-post a short story that I wrote and posted as a Facebook note years ago.  I trust it will be fresh for many because I have a larger audience of FB friends and online readers than I did then.   For those who have already read it and are willing to read it again, I trust it will have the same (or perhaps even greater) impact.   I will add that there is graphic content in this story and that it’s meant for mature readers.

by Jason Hughey

“Where are we going, mommy?” asked Rachel from the backseat. Her innocent 5-year old face peered curiously out of the car window in an attempt to derive some sort of clue as to the destination point of this trip. She squealed with delight when she saw the pet store with puppies in the window.

“Are we going to the pet store, mommy?” she asked excitedly.

“No, we’re going to the clinic,” Mommy replied. “I’ve made an appointment for you to be seen by the doctor.”

“What’s a doctor, mommy?”

Mommy replied, “A doctor is someone who checks on your health and makes sure you’re ok. He wants to make sure you feel well.”

“But I feel GREAT, mommy,” exclaimed Rachel, making a big gesture with her arms to prove how “great” she felt. Her eyes gleemed as she broke out in a bubbly smile to add to her confidence. Then she added, “Can we go see the puppies?”

“No, sweetie,” replied her mother. “We need to make sure you’re healthy, and the doctor will do that. Derek and I think it’s best for us and for you.”

The little girl’s smile disappeared. She didn’t like Derek. Ever since mommy had called him her “boyfriend,” Derek had done nothing but regard Rachel with disgust. Sometimes when she asked him questions or tried to get him to play with her, he would mutter something like “Stupid kid…” and shoo her away. Rachel didn’t know what he meant, but she knew he didn’t mean nice things when he said it.

A few minutes later, their car pulled into the parking lot of the clinic. Mommy took Rachel’s hand and led her into the reception area. Derek was there and rose to meet them.

“Hey, babe, how you doing?” He casually winked at Rachel’s mother, but looked at Rachel with a smirk. Rachel leaned closer to her mother for security.

“I’m doing ok, Derek. Thanks for being here,” replied Rachel’s mother. But her voice relayed a tone of anxiety and nervousness. It didn’t make Rachel feel comfortable.

Derek casually shrugged. “It’s no problem. Wanted to make sure you went through with the decision and everything. If you really love me, you know, we kinda’ have to do this.”

“I know, I know, and I do think we’ve made the right decision, Derek. Uhh…I’m just…something just is nagging at me and I don’t know what it is. Are you sure we’ve done the right thing?”

“Perfectly sure,” replied Derek. Trust me, you won’t worry like this after it’s over. It’s just a safe, normal procedure.”

“Right, I know, I know…” replied Rachel’s mother.

A door opened and a stern looking nurse stepped into the room. She half spoke, half barked out:

“Rachel Aeron.”

Rachel’s mother got up and grabbed Rachel’s hand. Rachel was beginning to feel scared. She didn’t like the look of the nurse and she didn’t like being dragged towards the door by her mother’s dry, cold hand.

“Is this the little girl?” asked the nurse.

“Yes,” Rachel’s mother said. “She’s ready for the appointment.”

“Excellent. Well, wait out here, Mrs. Aeron. We’ll take care of everything inside,” replied the nurse.

“Thank you,” replied Rachel’s mom.

The nurse took Rachel by the hand and led her to the door. Rachel turned around and looked at her mother with big frightened eyes.

“It’s going to be ok,” said her mommy. “You’ll be fine.”

But her mommy didn’t kiss her, hug her, or even smile when she spoke these words. Her face was pale and her lips quivered. Rachel didn’t like it.

The door closed and the nurse took Rachel into a small room and told her to wait. The doctor would come shortly.

Rachel was very scared now. She looked around the room. There was a table in the middle of it. There was also a sink next to the wall with two cabinets above it. The walls were white and bare.

The door to the room opened and in walked the doctor with the nurse. The doctor’s countenance was even more gloomy than that of his counterpart. They closed the door behind them. The doctor looked at Rachel and gruffly told her to “get on the table.”

Rachel walked to the big table in the middle of the room. But she couldn’t get on top of it. It was too tall for her.

The nurse said, “She’s too short.”

The doctor replied roughly, “I see that. Pick her up and put her on it.”

As the nurse bent down to pick her up, Rachel began to cry. As she was placed on the table, she felt overwhelmed with insecurity looking up at the doctor and nurse menacingly standing over her.

Then the doctor walked over to one of the cabinets. He reached inside and pulled out two objects. The first was a small knife, about 6 inches long. The next object was a longer blade…about 18 inches long.

Rachel’s crying grew to an intense screaming as she saw the knives.

“Hold her still,” said the doctor.

The nurse grabbed Rachel and pinned her back to the table, holding her head so that the front of the neck was exposed. Rachel squirmed and sobbed even more.

“This will just take a second,” the doctor said.

As he grabbed the shorter knife and stood over Rachel at the table, Rachel’s sobbing and screaming intensified to an ear-piercing shriek. Her mother heard it in the lobby.

“Oh, Derek, we didn’t do the right thing! What are they doing to her!?” she screamed.

“Whoa!” Derek replied. “Hold it a sec, this is the toughest part, just sit back and…”

“NO!” she yelled and ran through the door into the hallway.

At the table, the doctor leaned over Rachel with the knife in hand, preparing to slit the throat of the little girl that lay before him. Although the strong nurse held her so firm that she couldn’t move, Rachel suddenly screamed out with all of her might:


“Quiet!” yelled the doctor as he lowered the knife to her throat.

“M-M-MOMMY!” she yelled again through her gasping sobs.

“Do it now!” yelled the nurse.


The door burst open as Rachel’s mother flew into the room. There she froze, sickened at what she saw.

There her daughter lay…once a beautiful, loving, and innocent child, now a mangled body being chopped to pieces by the blade of her killer…at the consent of her mother and the man she called her “boyfriend.” Hacked limbs and blood covered the table in a viscous and gory spectacle.

With one horrific shriek, the dead child’s mother screamed: