Hidden agendas

I think it’s ironic that while the Susan B. Komen Foundation flip-flopped around about whether to discontinue its funding of Planned Parenthood, a disturbing image popped up on Yahoo depicting a thick ribbon of the sickening pink slime food additive [“boneless lean beef trimmings”] that McDonald’s has finally decided not to put in our hamburgers.

I’m still taking a poll of how many people threw up in their mouths when that revelation hit the fan.

I also wonder, now that Komen’s funding of Planned Parenthood has become very public, how many people whose consciences prevent them from supporting abortion had the same reaction when they realized that every time they bought a pink ribbon product or gave a donation to the Komen Foundation to fight breast cancer, they were also supporting what they see to be the murder of unborn children.

As the presidential election draws near, I can’t help but be reminded of all the “tag-ons” that are attached to congressional bills before they are voted on – tag-ons which have little or no relevance to the bills themselves.

I once heard from a congressman that when a bill ends up on his desk, the real controversy comes from these tag-ons – creating gridlock, keeping people from voting for bills that they would normally vote through, or damaging the congressman’s record because they are contrary to the spirit of the bill that is being voted for.

And now religious institutions in America are being forced to agree to provide services which their teachings condemn because of one such tag-on to the health-care bill.

No matter what our opinions are about abortion, health care, or any other issue, I think we can all agree that we’re tired of having things slipped passed us and forced upon us.

I’m tired of having to go to extreme measures and expense to buy food that is actually food and not a big conglomerate of chemicals and additives.

I’m frightened by the growing list of vaccinations that are being forced upon our children.

I’m sickened by the pressure schools put on parents to medicate their children (with the “zombie drug”) who are having a hard time sitting still in class for seven hours a day (They’re kids and school is boring. Duh.)

I’m infuriated that before I support a perfectly good cause, I have to go and research who it’s going to give my money to.

And when I go to the doctor about an ailment, I don’t like that doctor to sit in the chair with a prescription pad and a pen that bears the name of one prescription company, while the big poster behind him/her bears the name of another.

I remember being overseas as a child. Whenever I would come upon a McDonald’s, the big golden arches were almost equivalent to the red, white, and blue of the American flag.

A McDonald’s hamburger was a little taste of home, and my favorite was the all-American apple pie.

Things were simpler back then. Food was food, doctors were doctors, charity was charity, and America was a democratic institution founded upon and abiding by firm principles of honesty, integrity, and freedom.

One day, we were cleaning out the garden, and we came upon some huge spiders and a family of snakes. At first, I was horrified and unnerved that the children had been playing among them for who knows how long. But I was comforted that we were rid of a danger that we didn’t even know existed before it caused any permanent damage.

In the same way, I will be always haunted by the image of pink slime — haunted, sickened, and, yes, morbidly amused.

But my hope now is that I will look back upon it as a symbol of the era in American history when the ‘spiders’ and ‘snakes’ lurking in our ‘garden’ were brought to light and purged from our country.

Tami Amos

Marshall