The Democratic National Convention (DNC) has been a slaughterhouse for children in the womb – a Planned Parenthood truck outside of the convention has reportedly killed 25 preborn babies, potentially more at this point.  

And now, a Brave New World-style after-party called “Hotties for Harris” is ready to bring that number up. According to the DailyMail, “The party centered around feminism, sex and its after-effects. Encompassed in pinks and brat-greens, messages adorned the walls were designed to shock: the exact type of content that does well on platforms like TikTok.” 

Sadly, it’s not shocking for sexually deviant, abortion-loving Democrats, who embraced the night-club atmosphere of the party with Plan B gumball machines, early pregnancy tests, morning-after pills, and UTI medication handed out like party favors at the event. Walls adorn with signs mocking any form of virtue or “safe sex.”  

‘Sex May Soon be Illegal! All Must Go’  

‘Trump-Vance. Sex Ends Nov 5th,’  

‘Stop Sex Vote Red!’  

 ‘Tim Walz Got Me Laid!’  

Gone is the slogan that abortion should be “safe, legal, and rare.” Now, it’s a complete, unrepentant embrace of pleasure-seeking regardless of morality or death. It’s about abortion being available after sexually deviant, backward, and pleasure-seeking behavior and cover-up wayward choices. It is an attempt to normalize a society with no consequences. One problem – it takes a lot of moral numbing and narcissism to make it happen.  

Just like in Brave New World, written by English author Aldous Huxley, consequences can’t be eradicated, but they can be numbed. In Huxley’s world of test tube kids, where they’re not allowed to be alone to think, history is obscured, and children engage in regular and public sexual play, different versions and potency of the drug “soma” are regularly given to the citizens of the World State. The drug is used to, you guessed it, numb the pain and moral deviance of their reality.  

“Lenina felt herself entitled, after this day of queerness and horror, to a complete and absolute holiday,” Huxley wrote. “As soon as they got back to the rest-house, she swallowed six half-gramme tablets of soma, lay down on her bed, and within ten minutes had embarked for lunar eternity. It would be eighteen hours at the least before she was in time again.”  

“Soma” is a form of escapism. In this case, abortion and Plan B are escaping from the consequences of their actions or avoiding uncomfortable realities of life. Sex isn’t merely pleasurable. It’s meant for procreation, which leads to new life that needs care, love, and attention. I guess those at “Hotties for Harris” would like to take a hard pass on responsibility.  

The Democratic Party is the Brave New World come to life – a terrifying and nightmarish version of reality. The Democratic Party would have women and men believe they can flee through recreational escapism and “normalize” killing children in the womb. Still, it’s only a temporary fix, and you must keep doing it to stay numb and detached. 

It’s not a long-term strategy for a thriving individual life or society. If the abortion-loving Left continues down this path, they’ll need more and more distraction and “solutions” from their immoral behavior. Huxley wrote:

“And if ever, by some unlucky chance, anything unpleasant should somehow happen, why, there’s always soma to give you a holiday from the facts. And there’s always soma to calm your anger, to reconcile you to your enemies, to make you patient and long-suffering. In the past you could only accomplish these things by making a great effort and after years of hard moral training. Now, you swallow two or three half-gramme tablets, and there you are. Anybody can be virtuous now. You can carry at least half your morality about in a bottle. Christianity without tears—that’s what soma is.”

But in the end, anyone sucked into this ideology will never truly escape the memory of their sinful actions. The only way to come out relatively unscathed is to embrace responsibility and life outside oneself. 

“It was after midnight when the last of the helicopters took its flight. Stupefied by soma, and exhausted by a long-drawn frenzy of sensuality, the Savage lay sleeping in the heather. The sun was already high when he awoke.  

He lay for a moment, blinking in owlish incomprehension at the light; then suddenly remembered—everything.” (emphasis added) 

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