| ◼ A woman in Texas is suing one of the world’s largest abortion pill providers and her former partner after she says he spike her drink with abortion pills. Aid Access, a Europe-based nonprofit, uses a telemedicine model to prescribe and ship abortion pills—even to Americans who live in states with abortion bans. When this Texas woman discovered she was pregnant, her partner suggested she get an abortion. After she said no, he bought the pills through Aid Access anyway, the lawsuit reads. He pushed the pills on the woman for weeks, until finally succeeding through deceit. The lawsuit alleged that Aid Access and the ex-partner each broke separate laws. First, the 1873 Comstock Act bans the mailing of abortion implements across state lines. Second, the state of Texas has a general ban on abortion and requires that licensed professionals perform any allowed abortions. According to the Washington Post, Aid Access founder Rebecca Gomperts has declared that “it is deeply saddening that the anti-abortion groups are using a woman in very vulnerable circumstances to go after Aid Access.” Allow us to suggest that there is a better source for deep sadness in this case.
◼ The good news is Scotland has backed off harassing a grandmother who stood outside abortion clinics with a sign reading: “Coercion is a crime, here to talk if you want.” The bad news is the U.K. has launched a third investigation into a pro-life activist and charity worker who silently prayed near abortion facilities—essentially, a thought crime. This, in a land that is slouching toward decriminalizing abortion and legalizing Medical Aid in Dying (to use the current preferred euphemism), suggests a suicide of life and liberty underway. So Scottish pro-life grandmothers: Still beware. Bravo to Alliance Defending Freedom for both drawing attention to these cases and representing those involved in them. But it’s a testament to Scotland’s moral decline that such action is even necessary.
◼ And speaking of harassment: The Little Sisters of the Poor this week lost in a federal district court. That’s right: Despite a 7–2 Supreme Court win five years ago, the Catholic nuns are back in court because the Democratic Party—in this case, in Pennsylvania and New Jersey—can’t help itself. The Becket Fund is defending the nuns on appeal, and there is no reason to believe they will lose if they must go another round at the Supreme Court. But infringements on religious liberty don’t get much more basic than this same-old Obamacare mandate for covering contraception and abortion-inducing drugs the Sisters have been fighting for 14 years now: a mandate that, by the way, Congress never enacted.
◼ It will surprise younger Americans to learn that, in the early days of the World Wide Web, the price of admission to the internet was 20 or so seconds of aural torture. Imagine, if you will, the most unpleasant noise you have ever heard: The screeching of a banshee, mixed with intermittent radio static, combined with the sound that one imagines R2-D2 would make if he were taken to a basement and hooked up to a car battery. For years, that was what one heard every time one went online. When, in the early 2000s, broadband came along, it felt like the guns falling silent on Armistice Day. The reason for the din was simple: Despite an explosion in demand for the internet and its services, most of the world did not yet have the ubiquitous cables that are necessary for it to work. And so, temporarily, its users utilized the ones they had. “Dial-up” was just that: the repurposing of old-fashioned telephone lines into data-transmission conduits. The noise, alas, was unavoidable. This week, AOL announced that it would finally be closing its dial-up service, more than 30 years since it debuted. In 2000, the company had 30 million dial-up customers; today, it has slightly more than 160,000. “Nothing ever happens,” say the declinists. Come now.
◼ Born in Cleveland, Jim Lovell built his first rocket at 16. After graduating from the Naval Academy in 1952 and service in the Pacific, he enrolled in a test pilot training course at the Naval Test Center. He finished at the top of his class. His experience made him a natural astronaut candidate; he participated in both the Gemini and Apollo programs. On the Apollo 8 mission, he was part of the first crew to orbit the moon, positioning the craft such that crew member William Anders could capture the iconic “Earthrise” photo of our planet floating above the lunar surface. Lovell preferred Apollo 8 to his harrowing experience on Apollo 13 in 1970. It was Lovell who reported back, upon discovering that the lunar module had been compromised (by an explosion from a damaged oxygen tank, it was later learned), to mission control in Houston that “we’ve had a problem.” The crew of Apollo 13, commanded by Lovell, went about solving it, miraculously returning safely to Earth. In 1973, he retired from the Navy and NASA (he briefly was in charge of Houston), then proceeded to have a fairly down-to-earth life for one of the select few to leave Earth. To provide for his wife, Marilyn, (who died in 2023) and their four children, he worked in the telecommunications industry and ran a Chicago-area restaurant. An ordinary life is itself a meaningful accomplishment. But Lovell’s extraordinary deeds shouldn’t—and won’t—be forgotten. Dead at 97. Mission complete. |