Jennifer Canady won't put her 6-week forced birth law on her own gross mailers

The supposed speaker-in-waiting should resign if she's too consumed by guilt or shame or fear to tout her big achievement in brutalizing many and endangering all pregnant women in Florida.

How badly must 6-week forced birth poll and/or cause personal backlash?

Its sponsor in Florida, Rep. Jennifer Canady, R-Lakeland, won’t even put it on the list of gross greatest hits of tired, rehashed anti-wokism gracing her new campaign mailer.

That’s how bad.

Back when she was a 2022 candidate, Jennifer Canady didn’t say anything about “illegal aliens” and taxpayer handouts for rich parents at Lakeland Christian School (her employer) and the dangers of teaching black history. She was pretending to campaign as just a happy normal nepo and teacher because she needed Democratic/independent votes to beat Phillip Walker in an open GOP primary. She lied about the 6-week forced birth law she was getting ready to sponsor, too.

Today, Canady’s gone full-on CCDF, two election cycles too late.

I tried to tell ya’ll. Never confuse social class and personal presentation with respectability.

And still, even with all that, as gross as that list of useless talking points is, she’s afraid to her own forced birth law on it. Pathetic.

The forced birth lies, abuses of power, and (very brief) sensual celebrations J-Can wants you to forget

Since J-Can won’t claim her own “successes,” let me remind you of her formidable forced birth record:

1. Lied to my face — and the public’s — when asked repeatedly about her forced birth intentions as a candidate

2. Positively luxuriated in sensual glow of those lies and the brutalization of Florida women and girls — for all posterity. See her special access to Ron DeSantis’s closed door signing of the 6-week forced birth law she sponsored. Doesn’t she look so, so proud? Bonus Sen. Colleen Burton shot, looking maybe a little less proud.

   

   

   

   As I’ve said before, get you somebody who beams at you with that kind of exultation behind closed doors.

3. Sicced Grady Judd and the full public resources of the Polk County Sheriff’s Office on a multi-day manhunt of the protestor who tossed a pair of balled up panties into Canady’s first and only public celebration of 6-week forced birth at Marilyn Paul’s “crisis pregnancy” snitch center. J-Can hasn’t said a word about forced birth since and has barely been seen in public.

4. Ducked all comment when her husband Charles ruled that the 6-week forced birth law she was so proud of could now be enforced by Grady Judd’s guns, just like the flying bouncy panties.

   

The name “Canady” was once, long ago, associated with the public good, civic populism, and accessible openness of Walkin’ Lawton Chiles. Not anymore. I hope it was worth it, Charles the Elder.

Because 25 years from now, if I’m still alive and in my 70s, and reasonable maternity care has long-since been restored and this period of cowardly and brutal forced birth forgotten, I’ll still be using these pictures of J-Can. (And Colleen.)

You will never escape them if I can help it. The name “Canady” will be attached to forced birth in Polk County like the name “Bull Connor” is to segregation.

The worst lack all conviction

Every time I think I’ve reached the bottom in my contempt for the so-called leaders of the former fake “pro-life” movement, I am confounded yet again.

Donald Trump opens his gross mouth again about “states rights” and then begs — like a dog — for a Democratic governor to bail him out in Arizona or for voters to bail him out in Florida.

Or Jennifer Canady pulls another Jennifer Canady with a mailer hiding her only “accomplishment” — and then helpfully sends it to my house.

And so they drop me into a new abyss.

In considering the depths of personal dignity degradation people like Jennifer Canady will embrace to avoid taking any personal responsibility or accepting personal or political consequence for any supposed belief, I find myself flashing back to the famous William Butler Yeats poem The Second Coming.

(Such involuntary, girding connection to great literature is one of the many joys/benefits of a real liberal arts education. Good luck getting it at business school — or Corcoran’s New College)

This passage is probably the poem’s most famous; and it’s generally a counsel of despair. Note the bold:

Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;

Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,

The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere   

The ceremony of innocence is drowned;

The best lack all conviction, while the worst   

Are full of passionate intensity.

Yet when I look around today, it’s the MAGAs and fake pro-lifers and nepo-institutionalists and J6ers who lack all conviction — except for personal indulgence and self-protection.

If decent civic people defeat the worst writ large in the years to come with an order more just and serious, that utter lack of conviction will be the reason.

Bask in Canady’s abject surrender

We’ve already defeated them when it comes to forced birth. Jennifer Canady just announced her total unwillingness to fight for what gross people like John Stemberger put her in the Legislature to do.

That’s wasn’t a mailer; it was a surrender.

The Canadys’ gross invading tiny army of sub-mediocrity and moral degeneracy — now retreating in disarray — has left behind hundreds of thousands of pregnancies subject to brutal and blood-spattering land mines. We decent, normal people still have to clear those mines. Maybe that happens by November; maybe it takes a few more years.

But this war is already over — in the sense of clashing ideas or moralities. Fake pro-lifers want nothing to do with their own battlefield. Even I did not expect such a sudden and total collapse of morale from the fake “Pro-life” side. They’ve lost the will to even pretend to fight for what they all said was the most important and sanctified thing in the world for them.

It’s all been for nothing.

If you don’t believe me, go ask Jennifer Canady to tell you about her greatest accompljshment as a public figure and her deep love of life. That’s if you can find her somewhere other than slouching toward a private, smoke-filled bunker/club somewhere in the most useless bowels of Tallahassee.