Looking for new writers and graphic designers!
Come to our meetings every Sunday night at 9:00pm 5th floor of Lerner (near the student
government office).
All are welcome.
Buy a T-Shirt
Do you love animals? Or sodomy? Then buy a Fed T-shirt!
About Us
We have a long and storied history. Learn more about us...
In This Issue
- Abortions: Fun for the Whole Family!
- ROLM Phones Get SEAS Losers Laid
- Drunk Girls Ogle Dead Presidents
- Letters to the Feditor
- ESPN Fills Aching Void... With Sports!
- The Fed Announces Appointment of New Editor in Chief
- Astronauts Astro-Rock
- Fascists Hate Smokers
- Jungle Love, Courtesy of Local "Commie Kikes"
- Boxed Wine
- Nerd Elves Play with Each Other, Nerf Crotch-Bats
- Thinspiration: Looking for Militant Anorexic Love
- Militant Breastfeeding Cult No RateMyRack.com
- Our Militant Roots: A Federalist Article from '87
- Would you like to hear Jerry Falwell's Penis Talk?
- Barnard Girl Speaks... But Who Listens to Those Stupid Broads?
- Perfect Strangers: The Bond That Ties
- Whoroscopes: I See My Future in Your Pants
- Fight for Your Beliefs
- Wacky Fun Whitey with a Mission
- THEY Watch
- The Staff of 18.6
Abortions: Fun for the Whole Family!
Your kid may not be a 'tard, but why take the chance?
Mahnaz Dar
Parental love: a sacred bond between mother and child? Yeah, right. More like a hoax foisted upon us by "society"-- namely, Disney, bleeding-heart liberals, and sterile child psychologists. Most of us, with perhaps the exception of the members of NAMBLA, have probably wondered why this cult of the extremely young exists. It's a seemingly inexplicable phenomenon: why would a human being in the prime of life voluntarily offer up prime real estate in her uterus for nine months?
Imagine for a second that the pro-lifers are right, and fetuses really are imbued with anthropomorphic qualities. They're adorable, rosy-cheeked cherubim. And evil. They know just what they're getting, and they're milking it: free room and board, food provided at their leisure, any hours they like, notice of leave optional. Friends and The Real World have more plausible living arrangements. And that's just the beginning. Once the little angel decides to vacate the premises, the parent, will gain so much: the ability to distinguish one Teletubby from the next, a new wardrobe whose motif is that perfect blend of projectile vomit and polyester. Maybe even a new SUV. Ah, parenthood. The best part is having to stomach your rage for the next two decades. Sadly, infanticide has gone out of vogue.
So why haven't we gotten wise to this fetal conspiracy? We've had thirty years to legally annihilate them, and we've still neglected to consider the most obvious solution. Why is it that no sonnets have been penned in praise of Roe v. Wade? Why hasn't corporate America jumped on board and started marketing flavored RU-486 pills for its younger consumers? Why have hyperbolic essayists failed to dub abortions the new Modest Proposal? For the same reason people sniff glue and listen to boy bands: peer pressure. Forget what you've been told, that it's our biological clocks desperately ticking away, or that it's to propagate the species. That's bullshit. It all really starts when a few morons get knocked up and find themselves saddled with kids that won't be gone for the next 18 years, and then some. As if they're going to have a good time knowing the rest of the world is free from such perils. Better to guilt their friends into putting themselves through the same hell.
Enter parental rhetoric, that wonderfully logical debating technique, guaranteed to wear down the most anti-child individual into procreating. Nearly any objection to breeding is barred with one stock phrase, "You'll feel different about it once you have a baby of your own!" Having problems finding a job to support your hypothetical offspring? Afraid you just don't enjoy the company of little ones? Dealing with alcoholism? Like to disembowel kittens? Don't worry. "You'll feel different about it once you have a baby of your own!" And if you don't, just what are you to do with this living, breathing piece of flesh? Well, at least you've got a couple of spare kidneys lying around if you need ‘em.
So take the plunge. Abort your child, you know you want to. And when you're walking into the clinic, sure, pro-life propaganda along the lines of, "What if I'm about to kill the next Mozart?" may cross your mind. Then just ignore whatever doubts you're having, because no amount of beautifully composed symphonies is going to compensate for the hours of animated feature films that await you.
