A couple weeks ago the Medical Adoptions.com page hit our radar. Astute bastards and their fellow travelers recognized immediately that Medical Adoptions: The Organs You Need–The Homes They Deserve– is a perfect piece of high adoption satire a la Jonathan Swift (who lots of people didn’t get either).
Bastardette laughed so hard she nearly fell out of her bed of bronchial affliction when she read the mission statement of Medical Adoptions (note the WASPy female child):
We are a domestic and international adoption agency where parents are free to adopt a child who is a perfect match (up to 18 yrs) for the transplant of one or more “non-essential” organs to be donated to one of the adopting parents or your own children. Your new son or daughter would give you their heart, if it was possible, but a lung, eye or three feet of intestine might be enough to prove that love.
Bastardette cannot convey the perfectness of Medical Adoptions. I mean this is the ultimate “angel” agency where’s God’s gift –a kid and a kidney– await you. Talk about twofers!
You must browse the whole page, but here’s some samples:
Profile page: (Warning! I have already put in my order for Kristof Gorbodon, so watch it!
Services: We also insure that all clients who utilize our service enjoy the highest level of privacy and personal identity security. We’ve endured three audits from government agencies already, and we’ve never yet disclosed any names of any clients. That’s a thing that really makes us different. Much like your local library, we routinely destroy old documents, as to insure that no matter what happens in terms of court orders or overnight raids, your data is secure, and that your adoption will not come back to haunt you. After all, you’ve done nothing wrong, and you know this, but privacy is an inalienable right, and we take tremendous measures to insure that you’ll remain as anonymous as we know you may need to be.
Let’s not forget endorsements (front page, right column) : “My husband and I can’t have a child of our own any more than he could grow a new gal bladder, but since his spleen was already gone, our options were limited. A friend recommended this company, and within just two months we had a loving baby to fix our lives forever.” Dory J. – Aspen, Colorado.
Not surprisingly, truth-in-adoption is way too much for emotionally fragile $$$grubbers whose crocidille tears gush forth when adoptaprop turns on them. Some from the professional adoption class have reported the page to “authorities” and demanded it be taken down. Can jail be far behind? But then nobody ever said that free speech is a tenet of the adoption trade. Just ask any object of adoption (bastard, first parent or adopter) whose only right is to be grateful.
Of course, nobody cares what bastards and adoptees–those beneficiaries of agency care and concern–have to say about the whole thing anyway. Every bastardly comment I’ve read so far has been highly complimentary–even envious of the anonymous 21st century pamphleteer in our midst. But then, adoptees aren’t disconnected from reality–only their roots. Imagine! Why, whoever heard of adoption as a cure for infertility? Adoptees as spare parts? NEVER!
It’s always fun when the industry gets skewered on its on petard, Even more fun when they don’t even know it. I can’t wait for do-gooders at NCFA and their arch enemies at the Donaldson to weigh in on how Medical Adoptions will destroy adoption. That is, what’s left of adoption after Who’s Your Daddy?, the Middletown Doll Company Newborn Adoption Nurseries, and Anne of Green Gables has rutted up their sandbox. Can there be much left?
By the way, where’s Masha?