Please indulge me in a somewhat lengthy post that I hope will make a cogent point. This post starts with a fictional account of a young lady, Allison, who brings her fiancé, Allen, home for the first time to meet her parents. The fictional story is then brought to bear upon real life. I can only hope that the story is engaging enough to hold your attention and that the analogy is powerful enough to cause you justifiable alarm. If you should read it and find it valuable, then please feel free to share it with others by linking to it, or simply pasting it into an email and sending it to your lists of family and friends.

The Scene: A college aged daughter brings her fiancé home to meet her parents for the first time.

“Mom, I’m home!” hollered Allison as she swung open the front door of her parent’s home, new fiancé in tow.

Mr. Jack Public and his wife Jane, the doting and proud parents of Allison, were eager to greet their returning daughter and meet, for the first time, the man destined to be their son-in-law and father of their grandchildren.

The courtship between Allison and her fiancé Allen had been a short one. They met in Allison’s junior year of college. It was the fall semester and the romance had apparently been the classic whirlwind type, resulting in a marriage proposal by the subsequent spring. Jack and Jane really knew very little about Allen . . . just the basics really. What town he was raised in . . . his major, mechanical engineering . . . and most importantly, that their daughter loved him. Allison, always one for mystery, wanted her parents to learn about her love firsthand, by meeting him in person rather than relying on her descriptions over the phone. Hence, the very reason for this momentous visit.

The parents warmly greeted Allison and her fiancé into their home’s spacious foyer and ushered them into the living room. Everyone sat themselves, Allison and Allen appropriately on the love seat and her parents in wingback chairs facing their guests. As Jack lowered himself into his chair, he silently breathed a sigh of relief. Allen didn’t appear to be one of those nightmare radicals that prowl campuses these days. His hair was a conservative, short cut, maybe even done by a barber instead of a “stylist.” He wore an Oxford button-down light blue shirt and tan khaki pants. His shoes, brown topsiders. As far as Jack could tell, Allen was free of any in-your-face tattoos or piercings. So far, so good.

The conversation casually progressed from topic to topic. Iced tea and homemade butter cookies helped create an air of welcome and openness for their first face-to-face meeting with Allen.

They talked of family. Allen’s parents were still happily married and he apparently had an older brother and two younger siblings, a sister still in high school and a brother in middle school.

Allen loved music and happened to share an interest in New Orleans style Jazz with Jack, who was excited that Allen so obviously shared his enthusiasm for Louis Prima.

For good reason, Jack and Jane (he could tell by the look in his wife’s eye) were quickly becoming impressed by the thoughtful, articulate, and well mannered gentleman before them. Jack beamed a bit with pride as he thought about how well his daughter had chosen and he hoped, as a parent, that he had had some measure in forming Allison’s good judgment.

Eventually, the family cat, affectionately named, “Snausage,” sauntered into the room. Allen’s face lit up when he saw the cat.

“A cat! I just love animals” He turned to Jane and said, “Is this Snausage?”

“Yep, that’s Snausage,” she responded. “He’s more our cat than Allison’s, but she was the one that gave him that name. It was about 9 years ago when we got him. Snausage was born on a farm. The farmers are friends of ours and we happened to be visiting when their cat gave birth. So Allison was right there when Snausage was born. She just thought he looked like a sausage. The extra ‘n’ was just to give it a little character, Snausage instead of just plain sausage. Anyway, we were promised one of the kittens when they got old enough to separate from their mother. Snausage has been with us ever since. “

Allen lovingly scratched the cat behind his ears. Snausage purred in appreciation and was soon firmly ensconced on Allen’s lap. Allison’s parents took this as a very good sign. Perhaps with a bit of superstition, they tended to regard Snausage as a very good judge of character. The “Snausage Test” they called it.

“Allen really loves animals,” explained Allison, “We hope to someday adopt several unwanted cats . . . so, you’re first grandchildren might be the four-legged variety!”

Jack and Jane chuckled at the idea. Allen smiled as he stroked the purring cat’s back.

All seemed to be going so well, which is precisely the moment which irony prone people expect the fates to pull the rug from underneath their once firmly planted feet.

“I’ve always had a special love for cats,” Allen related, still scratching that sweet spot right behind Snausage’s left ear.

“Oh yes,” agreed Allison, “but, it’s love in action. It’s not an idle love. It’s a calling that, thanks to Allen, we as a couple embrace.”

Jack and Jane remained silent, but their look must have betrayed their puzzlement.

Allen, a perceptive young man, noticed the silence immediately and filled the void, “Perhaps Allison hasn’t spoken of my passion for cat adoption?”

“No,” Jack responded with a disarming smile, “but, please do tell.”

“I’ve always been a sucker for a happy ending and especially so when it comes to cats,” explained Allen, “I love it when cats are placed into happy homes where they are truly valued as full-fledged members of a family. The alternative . . . unfortunately the far too frequent alternative is terribly, terribly sad. Stray cats, abandoned cats, feral cats. Cats have long been domesticated animals and live miserably when feral. I guess that was what drove me to found an organization while in college. I call it, “Feral no More.” We work with families with recent litters to place kittens into loving homes. When we’re unable to place a kitten, we ensure that the kitten is spared future pain and suffering. We are a small organization of dedicated activists. Mostly, we do our work by word of mouth.”

“Huh,” commented Jack, “Are you a member too Allison?”

“Oh, yes dad. It’s invaluable work and Allen is the creative force behind it. I’m so very proud of him and wanted you and mom to hear about it first hand, from Allen himself!”

“So, Allen,” Jack continued, “for those kittens you can’t adopt, how do you ‘spare’ them future pain and suffering?”

“Well,” answered Allen, “Here’s where ‘Feral no More’ is a little more progressive than the pound or the animal rescue. Those organizations are more likely to hold onto a cat, waiting sometimes long periods before finally euthanizing. During that time the cat suffers terribly. It is amongst human companions where it desperately wants to be and it truly belongs, but yet . . . it is not. The psychological trauma is awful for these caged and unwanted companions. Nothing is worse than not being wanted and cats are far smarter than we think. They know it, Jack. They truly do.”

Silence reigned for a few moments and then Allen continued.

“My organization spares cats this trauma. If we don’t have a home lined up for a kitten shortly after he is weaned from his mother, then we euthanize before life in a pound or, worse, the terror of a feral existence.”

“Allen,” Jack interjected, “Allison wasn’t raised on a farm, but I was. When I was growing up we had several feral cats that worked the farm. They were mousers. Generally they were skittish around people, but stuck around for the mice. It worked out pretty well for both of us, our family and the feral cats.”

“With all due respect, Jack, it may benefit the farmer, but it is at great cost to the feral cat. It suffers tremendously. There’s hunger, cold, loneliness, predators, and a crushing sense of abandonment by humans. These are domesticated animals thrown into a wild world.”

“Do you have vets that euthanize the kittens?” inquired Jane.

“No,” answered Allen, “There’d be too much cost involved. We euthanize ourselves and we do so just as quickly and painlessly as a vet.”

Allen paused. He noticed Allison beaming at him with pride and hanging on his every word.

“I’m studying mechanical engineering at the university and I’ve put some of my studies to good use in ‘Feral no More.’ I’ve built a very humane device that crushes the skull of kitten in less than a second. It’s hydraulically powered. The unwanted kitten feels no pain. Death is instantaneous.”

“Sounds kinda messy,” commented Jack.

“Good works are not always clean and easy,” Allen responded.

“Mom, dad,” interjected Allison, “It’s so quick and merciful and spares those poor kittens the trauma of knowing they were unwanted.”

Tears began to well in Allison’s eyes as she reflected on a feral cat shivering in a cold barn and worst still, knowing it was unloved by human companions.

“Allen,” Jane asked, “Do you use your machine often?”

“We’re a small organization and we only work with like-minded human companions,” answered Allen, “So, no, we don’t do a lot of euthanizing and I don’t actually operate the machine myself. You see, I’ve never been the doctoring type. Some of our dedicated volunteers work the machine. I only provided the mechanical expertise and my organizational talents.”

“Mom, dad, I’m so proud of Allen for all the good work he’s done!” gushed Allison.

Jack and Jane Public looked uneasily at each other, awash in this new revelation about their future son-in-law, the likely father of their grandchildren, future husband to their only daughter. Dread and unease replaced the excitement and enthusiasm they initially felt for Allen. A man that created a kitten smashing device and passionately defended its use . . . something about that was just plain wrong. Jack couldn’t help but think that this was a red flag for an underlying . . . depravity.

END of STORY . . . Now onto the commentary and the point of taking you on this little fictional tangent.

A meet-the-parents situation is a lot like a job interview. A fiancé is interviewing for a place in a family as a husband and future father. Pretty much, that’s a leadership position in the microcosm of a family. The ultimate marriage decision, of course, rests with the bride to be and her fiancé, but approval from the parents is generally sought.

In this little story, Allen comes across as bright, articulate, ambitious, and gentlemanly. That is until, he reveals an underlying depravity. Here is a man that is complicit in the crushing of kitten’s skulls. Sure, he may be doing so out of some sense of charity, but it is a confused and warped idea of charity.

The parents, Jack and Jane, are rightfully worried. Building a machine to crush kitten’s skulls and creating an organization to carry out those acts smack of depravity, no matter the justification. Allen’s judgment and his sense of morality seem disordered. Jack and Jane should rightfully think to themselves, “Well, if he’s capable of this, then what else is he capable of? What would his warped sense of charity be capable of if his efforts were directed at sparing his wife or child from suffering?” Their concerns are warranted.

In the interview-like scenario of meet-the-parents, Jack and Jane must be wishing for veto power over the choice of their daughter. In the microcosm of the family, depravity is quickly judged and rejected for what it is, dangerous to the family’s future safety, welfare, and happiness.

The plight of Jack and Jane Public relates to our current situation with President-elect Barack Obama. Here we have a man that successfully interviewed and convinced the American people to hire him for the most important office of the American ‘family’, the president of the United States. Obama came to us as historical (the first black candidate), articulate (a writer and good speaker), and full of potential (the messages of hope and change). Seemingly a good catch for the American family. However, as with fiancé Allen, the kitten smasher, there too is an underlying depravity with Barack Obama.

In Gonzales v. Carhart, the US Supreme Court upheld the 2003 ban on partial birth abortion. Even the pro-abortion American Medical Association (AMA) favored the ban, saying the procedure is never medically necessary. Barack Obama, on the other hand, showed his underlying depravity by lambasting the decision. Obama said on 4/18/2007, “I strongly disagree with today’s Supreme Court ruling, which dramatically departs from previous precedents safeguarding the health of pregnant women. As Justice Ginsburg emphasized in her dissenting opinion, this ruling signals an alarming willingness on the part of the conservative majority to disregard its prior rulings respecting a woman’s medical concerns and the very personal decisions between a doctor and patient. I am extremely concerned that this ruling will embolden state legislatures to enact further measures to restrict a woman’s right to choose, and that the conservative Supreme Court justices will look for other opportunities to erode Roe v. Wade, which is established federal law and a matter of equal rights for women.”

Please do know that I do not use the term ‘depravity’ lightly when I associate it with Barack Obama. Obama, in order to make an informed decision about partial birth abortion, knows exactly what this procedure entails and knows that according to the AMA, it is not ever medically necessary to save the life of an expecting mother. Further, Obama must know that according to several sources (including the Guttmacher Institute, a pro-abortion organization), there are anywhere from 400 to 14,000 late term abortions performed every year in the United States via intact dilation and extraction (the medical name of partial birth abortion).

It is utterly depraved that Obama wishes to protect a procedure that involves the following:

• Labor is artificially induced; the peace of the womb is broken.

• Instead of being born head first, the child’s legs are grabbed by medical instruments and the child is forced into a breech, feet first birth. When this happens the child is likely to dislocate joints and break the collar bone. The pain must be excruciating.

• The child is delivered except for the head, which is kept in the birth canal.

• A large needle is used to puncture the back of the head, all the way to the brain.

• The brain is suctioned out, collapsing the skull.

• The dead child is then fully delivered.

• The procedure is done without anesthesia to the aborted child. He feels everything from the start of induced labor to the needle at the back of his skull.

Like Allen, the fiancé in my little story, Obama protects partial birth abortion out of what he believes are noble reasons. The really sad part, however, is that the American people accepted Obama’s explanations and failed to truly appreciate the underlying depravity in Obama. Perhaps, though, on a national scale, depravity can be more easily dressed up to appear as something else, maybe even something noble.

For Jack and Jane Public, the parents in the story, the depravity of Allen, the fiancé, was a lot harder to miss within the microcosm of one, single family. Allen, the fiancé, creator of the kitten smashing machine, caused alarm in Jack and Jane Public. The depravity was obvious. Unfortunately, a majority of the American people on November 4, 2008 missed or simply ignored the depravity in Barack Obama. If only more people judged Obama in the same way they would someone wanting to marry their daughter. High standards are expected at the level of family . . . so too should they be applied to those seeking the highest elective office in our land.

The morally depraved President-elect Obama . . . God help us.