Ben Carson: Life Begins at Happy Hour!

Friends at pub table, smiling, portrait (focus on man in centre)

“Life doesn’t start when the sperm meets the egg,” said Ben Carson. “As a physician, who takes his marching orders directly from the Lord Jesus Christ, not from NIH, I believe Life begins with chemical changes in the male and female brain several hours before intercourse.”

“How exactly will this impact your bid for the White House?” asked This Reporter.

“It distinguishes me from other conservatives who only give lip service to the sanctity of Life. They contend that Life begins upon conception. The Lord has told me that Life begins, in most cases, during Happy Hour.”

“I don’t understand,” said This Reporter. “How can Life start over a pitcher of margaritas?”

Carson threw me a withering glance.

“God has programmed men and women to reproduce by flooding their brains with endorphins and engorging their genitals with blood. These physiological changes happen long before they mate.  If it doesn’t happy at Happy Hour, than it happens at the office party or on Tinder.”

“I’m sorry but I’m having trouble following your line of reasoning,” said This Reporter. “Are you saying that every time a man and woman feel physical attraction, the result is the birth of a child?”

“That’s what the Good Lord intended. If I’m elected, I am going to do everything within my power to make sure it happens,” said Carson.

“You mean by banning abortion?”

“That’s a no-brainer,” said Carson. “I’m going a step further. I am going to ban birth control, masturbation and massage parlors.  No man shall spill his seed upon the land while I am the leader of the Free World.”

“Excuse me, but that doesn’t sound remotely possible,” said This Reporter.

“Does it sound  remotely possible that He created the Earth within seven days, established the land, the seas and every kind of creature, including Adam and Eve?” bellowed Carson.

“Um, actually there’s some debate on that time-frame,” said This Reporter.

“Oh, so you’re one of them evolutionists, huh?” chuckled Carson. “You believe we are all descendents of apes? That dinosaurs roamed the Earth millions of years ago?”

“Well, I went to the Museum of Natural History when I was in elementary school and that was my impression,” said This Reporter.

“You poor, misinformed journalist,” he said, laying his hand on my shoulder. “All those museums will be replaced by Biblical Villages when I’m President. School children will no longer be subjected to books that tell them their ancestors swung from trees in the jungle.”

“But you’re a neurosurgeon, surely you believe in science,” said This Reporter.

Carson lowered his voice.

“Here’s the deal,” he said. “What I believe in is the Gospel of Prosperity. Becoming a doctor was my way out of La Ghetto. It was that or becoming a pro basketball player. I had the height but not the moves.”

“You got into Yale through Affirmative Action, one of the government programs you have criticized,” said This Reporter.

“Affirmative Action was the worst thing that ever happened to me. It gave me a false sense of achievement. If African Americans are going to lift themselves up, it will have to be through their own efforts, not from hand-outs.”

“But you grew up in public housing and your family received food stamps,” said This Reporter. “Why do you want to eliminate the very programs that allowed you to rise up from poverty to become a millionaire?”

“My transformation wasn’t due to those programs. It was due to my faith in the Lord and the Lord’s faith in me. Hallelujah!” shouted Carson.

“Other than Republican Evangelicals, what segments of voters are responding to your message?”

“You’d be surprised,” he said. “Jews love me because I’m a doctor. Blacks love me because I share their heritage and Christian values. And Whitey loves me because I’m going to kick Liberal ass.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I meant, I’m going to cut out wasteful spending, bring government down to size, and make the Supreme Court dance to a different tune,” Carson said.

“What tune is that?” asked This Reporter.

“Waaaay down upon the Swanee River…far, far away…”

Stacia Friedman is the founding editor of DailyLobotomy and the author of Tender is the Brisket.











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