This report comes to you via Ronald Reul Neiklot, friend of the reporter Clive Staples, who wrote "21st Century Emancipation Proclamations". He posts the last part of this series here on the internet because, tragically, Clive had fallen in the shower and passed away. It is to the memories of Clive Staples held dearly by his family and friends that this last article is dedicated.
I had promised to report on my experiences of late after the war to protect the unborn, but have thus far been unable to find the avenue to do so. Rueters has suppressed all attempts to report it. I hope at some point to find some means to transmit this report to you. It has not faced the rigours of editorial amelioration, and for that I must ask your apologies. For now, I must find some means to stay alive before it is too late-but is it already?
I clambered up the steps of the Los Angeles Roman Catholic Church, where I was to meet the Archbishop of that region, Pontius Canterbury. We were to discuss how the research done at the National Institutes of Health had repudiated the legitimacy of abortion while showing that the dogmas of mainline Christianity were vindicated, when I realized that there was much more to this rendezvous than would have been clear from my initial phone call.
For you see, Pontius Canterbury was on a mission. That may sound like stating the obvious, but when I say this I am not talking about saving souls or helping the poor.
Entering his office, I saw what looked more like a battlefield station than a place of monastic study and reflection. Before I had the chance to ask what his large collection of maps, flowcharts, and photographs represented, he instantly began interviewing me, as it were.
"Is it too late? Have they gotten to you already?", wavered his deep voice. "I have read your recent Rueters articles on the war, and by all accounts, you do not seem to be one of those who have been 'infiltrated'."
I hesitated, and questioned his sanity, responding, "Why sir, I don't know the meaning of this. If you're referring to the SMU, or Suppression of the Murderers of the Unborn, as President Greyback calls it, I'm not quite sure I follow. My articles have discussed the, shall we say, less pleasant aspacts of the liberation of the unborn. But you, after all, are a Catholic bishop. Are you not pro-life? Shouldn't this be a moment of celebration?"
"Ah, my dear lad, do you not see that the title given to these late events is in and of itself sufficient to show you that something is awry?"
And it was from this point that he began to talk about people as people, and not political pawns. Those who had clung to now outdated notions of choice vs. oppression, as opposed to death vs. life, as we all now freely admit, were sincere in their understanding of jurisprudence. They just happened to have missed the boat intellectually on the matter of biology.
What was worse was to hear more about the Hiram Smith massacre--that Smith's view of injustice could be justified solely because he was right about abortion made no sense to this pro-life bishop.
And as the catalogue of atrocities grew larger and larger, it became clear that to Archbishop Canterbury, and myself, this was not a thing of the past.
He documented how people driving hybrid cars were being taxed out of suspicion that they were once pro-choice. Further, those who did not attend church were harassed by the police, minorities were subjected to government mandated ultrasounds to see if they were pregnant (as abortions were performed on this group more than others), and if so, special monitoring would ensure that these pregnant women would not take steps to perform an illegal abortion. In the meantime, Greyback-sponsored companies that made those ultrasound machines and police cars were growing richer.
It was too much to take in. Vertigo and nausea swept over my soul and I fell to the ground, thinking of the immensity of this program.
"My dearest lad, if by now you cannot see by now that there is a movement to alter the structure of this government where anyone who does not support Greyback's agenda will continue to be oppressed in new avenues--not just abortion--I'm afraid I will never convince you."
"But Mr. Canterbury, what can I do?"
And here, dear readers, I must interrupt and tell you that the answer to this question never came in. A knock at the door broke the flow of our conversation, and a flood of some sort of tear gas entered in the room, masked officers came and handcuffed us.
Neither Archbishop Canterbury nor myself were able to move. What is worse was the fact that some property in this chemical was able to produce a blindness and deafness. All I knew then was that large hands grasped me and I was placed in some lorry of sorts. I was taken back to my flat and awoke some time later--time was a blur, but as I turned on the boob tube I realized that it was now 4 days after my interview with the Archbishop. Checking for the news, horror found new limits in my mind as I read that the Archbishop had been reported to be dead. In this account, he had committed suicide for having been one who was supporting back-alley abortions.
It seemed impossible, and any doubts that this was a cover for something larger were assuaged by a note on my desk.
"If you stop talking,
you will start living."
I came to the point where I realized that if I were to continue living as though what I had heard from Archbishop Canterbury was accurate, that I would be living life on the run forever. There would be no parley with this enemy that would keep him pacified. And so I set to write this last report. Will it find you, dear readers? I can only hope and pray that it does. It sounds odd of me to refer to praying, as I never had before I began this series. But stranger things have happened in the world.
Note from RR Neiklot: The text ended here, and I imagine Clive had more to say, but we will never know how he wanted this story to end.
----Clive Staples, Ronald Reul Neiklot et al., are fictitious people, as is all of this tommyrot.