Bieber Bomb

Bieber Bomb

Now that Justin Bieber has come out against killing babies it’s time to sit up and pay attention; this is probably as close as we’ll ever get to an actual fetus making a pronouncement on the issue of abortion. (That whooshing sound? Sarah Palin swooping from the trees to cuddle up with the moppish lad. ALERT SARAH: Yes, we elected an Indonesian Muslim president, but sixteen-year old Canadians still can’t serve as vice president.)

Bieber’s foray into the Abortion Wars is a game-changer, as anyone knows who remembers the Cold War and Annette Funicello coming out from under her Mickey Mouse ears in 1959 to declaim against Communism (“It sounds kinda bad… I’m with the President on this one.”), thus cementing what would be thirty years of concerted United States policy, resulting finally with the Mickey Mouse trademark waving o’er the ramparts of the destroyed Berlin Wall.

Billy Mummy’s 1966 pronouncement, “I think it would be sort of cool,” stopped all the dithering and galvanized the Congress into digging deeply into our pockets to fund sending Americans to the moon. (Where are the ‘Lost In Space’ re-runs, by the way?)

Jackson Five (with cute little Michael) and, presto, Martin Luther King Day!

The list of paradigm-altering pubescent pronouncements goes on, and their effects on American policy are well documented (The Opie Dicta, The Beaver Bromide, etc.). Therefore, Bieber’s ABORTION IS BAD had better be studied for its implications. Example: Malthusians will fear His Bieberness’s defense of the fetus will increase exponentially the number of new Americans to be born in the coming days of repealed Obama-care. Other policy makers, however, will point out the likelihood of vast numbers of OB-GYN nurses, stripped of their rights to collectively bargain, to collectively botch enough deliveries to maintain a stable population. And if de-unionized nurses working in geriatrics cooperate and switch around a few meds, hey, all this could work out for the better. Go Justin! (And thank you, Wisconsin.)

One little adjustment to the Bieber oeuvre should be considered; lad, that melodic syrup warbling under your golden tresses gets girls thinking thoughts they really shouldn’t if we want to prevent that distressing question from being asked all too often, Should I tell my parents, or should I tell Dr. Murder I’m pregnant? Although it hardly seems possible, your ejaculate and the ejaculate of boys even younger and sweeter looking than you get girls pregnant; knock it off with the cool moves! Didn’t you start out with Christian music? Why not stick to sobering ditties about Hell and Dr. Murder’s legs sticking out of Satan’s maw? Help us bring the temperature down and keep the panties up.

After that, maybe help us out with the fracking issue.