On July Fourth weekend, a photograph made the rounds on social media. Cynthia Nixon, the actress and activist, lounges in a boat, smirking at the camera. Perched jauntily on her head is a red baseball cap with the words, “Make Abortion Great Again.” You would be hard-pressed to find a photo that more perfectly encapsulates the current Democratic party: rich, entitled, deranged.
It’s worth taking some time to deconstruct this photo. Looking beyond the smug, superior smile, we encounter an apparent female, representing perhaps “the death of the patriarchy,” and no doubt also the end of “toxic masculinity,” and the triumph of the feminization of our culture. As Nixon said when she ran for New York governor in 2018, “The future is female.”
Dig deeper, and we are reminded that she is bisexual and married to a woman. On the one hand, that makes perfect sense. Why not get rid of men altogether? On the other, she is, because of her lesbian relationship, no longer quite so representative of the typical woman. Her female exterior is, in some sense, a disguise, a costume. Something else is going on here. The semiotics are intriguing.
As we continue to peel the onion, we note that she is an actress—an accomplished practitioner of artifice, deception, and dissembling. Moreover, her fame is based largely on her role in the overpraised but culturally significant television show Sex and the City. I am hardly the first to suggest that the show was never about women, but was, in reality, a story of four gay men.
And finally, surprising absolutely no one, Nixon is also the mother of a transgender child. Speaking at a February protest against President Trump’s ban on transgender medical intervention for minors, she proclaimed, “I am here today as the mother of a proud trans man. I am here today as the aunt of a proud trans man. My best friend’s kid is trans, and my kid’s best friend is trans.” Right. But then, it is only to be expected that the crowd celebrating dismemberment in the womb would also rally for the mutilation of healthy children—all in the name of “health care.”
We see now that the woman in this photo is a well-rehearsed expert in turning reality on its head—sexual denial and confusion, artifice and negation. It’s turtles all the way down. Indeed, the gender-bending, mind-altering layering is almost Shakespearean in its ability to conjure and deceive.
At last, we come back to the red hat. In a not-at-all subtle subversion of Trump’s MAGA world, the cap proclaims “Make Abortion Great Again.” It is hard to fathom what sort of person would wear such a cap. It is hard to imagine being so deeply steeped in evil that one might think it fun to sport this on July Fourth or any other time.
The distance between “safe, legal, and rare” and “Make Abortion Great Again” is so vast and deep, a chasm so wide, as to be almost incalculable. Right or wrong, it is at least possible to make a plausible defense of abortion in certain cases. Once upon a time, “safe, legal, and rare” was the official position of the Democratic party, and of many other reasonable and compassionate Americans.
Alas, that time is now only a distant memory, and we have seen thousands of women in recent years “shouting their abortions.” They proudly revel in the blood of dead children. Indeed, it must be said that someone who gleefully sports a “Make Abortion Great Again” cap is no longer recognizably human, but a monster enacting a part. The glorification and celebration of the mass murder visited on our most vulnerable is nothing short of demonic.
Thus, in this one photograph of this woman and her cap, we see the complete inversion of all that is good and true, and the triumph of all that is false and anti-human. This is the face of our current Democratic (or Demoncratic) party—a party that praises the slaughter of innocents, whether in the womb or in Israel. It is a party that mutilates children in the name of a false transgender ideology, and then teaches them to despise their families, their country, and their civilization.
The Democratic party’s descent into madness can be traced directly back to the first time it no longer allowed dissent about abortion. From the moment the party made the death of babies its central (and frequently, only) platform, everything else followed. The stain of innocent blood poisons everything it touches. I have no desire to see Cynthia Nixon’s Lady Macbeth, but she is well suited for the part.
Come, you spirits
That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here,
And fill me, from the crown to the toe, top-full
Of direst cruelty! Make thick my blood,
Stop up th’ access and passage to remorse,
That no compunctious visitings of nature
Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between
The effect and it! Come to my woman’s breasts,
And take my milk for gall, you murd’ring ministers,
Wherever in your sightless substances
You wait on nature’s mischief! Come, thick night,
And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell,
That my keen knife see not the wound it makes,
Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark,
To cry “Hold, hold!”
