BART has been taken over by pro-life posters. They are professional, compelling, slick, and truthful. I sat glowering at one as I rode out to the far east on Saturday, wishing I was a braver kind of person so that I could rip it down or write a scathing reply all over it, but also wishing I was a more logical kind of person so that I could feel comfortable with the idea that pro-lifers deserve to speak their piece as much as I do. As I sat in this mental torment, a kid in the back started to scream and scream and scream. He spent the next 40 minutes, in fact, screaming almost continuously.* By the end of the trip my nerve endings were rubbed raw, but I felt ok. I guess my side does not need fancy posters to make our case. We just need to trap people in a BART car for the better part of an hour with someone else’s child.
*For the record, I did give some attention to this situation besides blogging about it and I feel pretty confident that he was not being kidnapped or tortured. Although by minute 28 I was sort of hoping I was wrong.