Satire/Rosie Sorenson

Pandora, the Box

In a 10-year secret AI (Artificial Intelligence) project, scientists at MIT successfully developed a device to communicate with fetuses. No sooner had they called a press conference to unveil their historic brainchild than the great state of Alabama declared that fetuses would now be eligible to run for office, thus birthing God’s New Fetal Party (GNFP.)

Roy Moore, former Alabama Supreme Court Justice and accused pedophile, declared, “God was workin’ through the scientists at MIT to give us a device to talk directly to the most precious of all his creations—the fetus. In so doing, God has now put wimmin firmly in their place for at least as long as they are pregnant. As soon as we heard about this new fetal talkin’ thing, we created a coalition of Republicans, conservative Democrats and Keep-the-South-for-the-South-freelancers to quickly establish a platform for God’s New Fetal Party.”

“First and foremost,” he said during a town hall meeting, “only white male fetuses have been declared eligible to run for office. Their female Host Bodies (HB’s) will be given housing, food, and full medical care until the fetus becomes a baby. After that, they and their babies will be expelled from the womb of government to fend for themselves.”

Men in the Men’s Rights Movement (MRM) complained (“How come bitches get all that free medical care and food and stuff—what about us dads?”), but when they were told that fathers of the chosen fetuses would be paid off handsomely, they stopped fussing. (“OK. Sure. We can live with that.”)

Poor white women rushed to Birmingham to sign up for this Fetal New Deal. By the end of the second day after the program’s announcement, 371 women had completed their paperwork, testifying as to the reasons their fetus would be qualified to serve.

“My baby, I mean, my fetus, kicks like a mother****er, pardon my French, but I know he would be strong enough to take on those libs in the House, I just know he would,” says Host Body Candidate #1, age 21.

“That’s nothin’,” says Host Body Candidate #2, age 19. “My fetus, well, I understand he’s not my fetus per se, but he has been listenin’ to nothin’ but talks by Billy Graham and goin’ to church all of his short life. I know he’s been inspired by the word of the Lord to lead this great state of Alabama, and if he’s as fast and as smart as I think he is, he might have just enough time to run for Prez-ee-dent.”

After a long week of interviewing candidates, the Committee to Serve the Lord and the Great State of Alabama, announced the following winners: Fetus Bob, Fetus George and Fetus Kevin, all under two months, all with seven months to serve.

A coming-out (so to speak) party was held on Good Friday at God’s First and Only Christ Church in Birmingham to announce the winners. Blown-up photos of the fetuses’ sonograms were hung in the sanctuary, flying high above the altar. Each proud Host Body sat beneath her fetus’s sonogram.

Murmurs vibrated throughout the pews. “Well, my my, aren’t they special, bless their hearts.”

On the following Monday, Fetus Wrangler Wayne set to work to educate Fetus Bob, Fetus George and Fetus Kevin the basic principles of state government. The Host Bodies were instructed to keep quiet as the Fetus Wrangler began his instruction.

“But of course,” says Wrangler Wayne to the fetuses, “we welcome your input about how we can better work with the state’s legislative agenda. Y’all were chosen for your superior intellects. So, tell us, Fetus George, what are your recommendations?”

“You can tell my Host Body to stop eating onions!” says Fetus George. “They stink to high heaven. I can’t wait to get out of here.”

“Uh, yes, of course,” says Fetus Wrangler Wayne, “but what about the government”?

“Y’all are doing the right thing as I see it. I just don’t want to be harrassed by onions is all.”

Fetus Bob chimes in. “And you can tell my Host Body to stop havin’ sex with that man. It’s embarrassin’ to be jerked around like that while I’m tryin’ to sleep. Who has time to think about gummint?”

Fetus Kevin, says, “Tell Fetus Bob and Fetus George to shut the hell up, the whinin’, effin’ babies. They should stick to sucking their thumbs.”

“Uh, well, now,” says Wrangler Wayne, looking stunned, “I think it’s time to take a break.” He rushes to the phone to talk with the lead scientist at MIT, Dr. Al G. Rhythm. Jackson explains the problems they’ve encountered.

Dr. Rhythm listens carefully, sighs and says, “We told you people not to do this. We’re scientists, not politicians. We said you can’t give a fetus that much power because, well, they would start acting like selfish babies. Are you happy now?”

Dial tone.

Rosie Sorenson is a humor writer in the San Francisco Bay Area. You can contact her at: RosieSorenson29@yahoo.com

From The Progressive Populist, August 15, 2019

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