If my assertion that all of the people who oppose Health Care Equality want all of those of us with preexisting conditions and other Health "Issues" PUT TO DEATH is incorrect, than why is it that more than two weeks after I flat out accused Ted Cruz and his supporters of exactly this on HIS Facebook Page, the ONLY responses that I have gotten have been of the 'Another Alarmist Liberal' variety and not one of them has contained q single word that in any way even attempted to refute this claim in any way at all whatsoever, PERIOD.

THE TRUE PROLOGUE FOR -RIPPING THE MASK OFF-

THE RIGHT TO A FULL LIFE BY MATTHEW LUCAS BECKETT “Travis is coming over for dinner tonight,” Andrea announced as she and Trent sat down to breakfast the morning after the New Year's Party. Her brother groaned, and she sighed, knowing what was coming. “Must you and she bring your vile abomination under my roof?” he asked heavily. With an extreme effort, she kept her tone calm and reasonable. “Mother and Father left the house to both of us, Trent, not just to you. I have as much right to have my girl-friends over here as you do to have your girl-friends over here. And if we're going to get into it, how many girl-friends have you had in the past year?” “Seven,” he shouted. “But Travis is your. . .” “Third, EVER,” she replied. “And I would have stayed with Laura forever if she hadn't been shot and killed in that bank heist. Jolene would have been perfect for a life partner if she hadn't been murdered by your kind.” “Hey,” said Trent. “We're not all completely the same. Even if you weren't my sister, I'd never condone murder of anyone.” “But you do think that the fact that I am gay means that my life has no value and you would not shed one tear if I did die.” Trent made no reply, but his silence said more than words ever could. * * * “Ignore him,” Andrea whispered to Travis as Trent gave them a hard stare. “He thinks that just because his party now controls Congress he can control what we all do with our personal lives.” “What you two are doing is grounds for death, according to certain Scriptures.” She knew Travis did not care about Scriptures, but also that she must end this now before it went any further. She fixed Trent with a very, VERY hard stare. “Do you really want to get into a Scripture quoting contest with me, Trenton? You know I'll match you in thirty seconds flat, and beat you in two minutes flat. The fact that I could not get ordained in our congregation because I am gay does not change the fact that I spent four years at seminary.” Wisely, Trent dropped the matter at once. Instead, he tried an even more insensitive and absurd tack. “Your weak heart and failing kidneys are God's punishment for your choices, Travis.” Then the other girl fixed him with a hard stare. “First of all, Trenton, it is NOT a choice. Why would either of us CHOOSE to be treated this way? Secondly, I was born with my heart and kidney problems, so how cold they be a punishment for something I wouldn't become fully aware of for fourteen years?” Happily, Trent had no immediately ready answer to that, so she took Travis into the living room. * * * “So,” Andrea said, leaning into Travis's unusually large even for a fully formed woman's breasts. “What do you want to do after dinner, Travigirl?” “You know what I WANT to do, Andrea,” she replied. “But I think we can at least spare your brother that.” They both laughed. “I meant apart from that, as you well know, Travis,” she said, poking her in the back, drawing a yelp. “I'm sorry,” she quickly told her girl-friend. “I forgot.” Travis's heart and kidney problems made her unusually sensitive all over, but in the heat of the moment, Andrea tended to forget that. On a sudden whim, she asked. “Travis, with all your physical sensitivity, even if other matters allowed, how could we make love?” “Just don't spoil a beautiful ida, Andrea,” Travis replied. “As long as it is something we can not do, we can both keep fantasizing about it.” Andrea nodded. “Dinner is served,” called Trent from the kitchen. “But not for the children of queers and fags, just for the queer and the fag themselves and the queer's brother.” Andrea sighed. “It's bad enough that he insists on calling me a queer. I wish he would just call us both queers and stop calling you a fag.” Travis laughed. How Andrea loved her laugh. “Compared to some of the things that I've been called by my own family, 'fag' is a complement.” Andrea decided that she did not want to know more and so they headed for the small kitchen she shared with her brother, although he was the only one who ever used it for anything but food storage and consumption. * * * Four hours later, they walked out of STAR BATTLE, THE SWORD OF LIGHT smiling, laughing and quoting lines from the film to each other. Finally, Andrea decided to ask the question that she had wanted to ask ever since she met Travis, but since she liked the girl and wanted to get to know her first, had refrained from asking until this moment, when she felt their relationship was secure enough to endure whatever unpleasantness this might bring. “Travis?” her girl-friend looked right at her. She did have the most gorgeous face, with that really big nose, lightly freckly and that shine and sparkle in her eyes. She seemed to know what Andrea was about to ask, as she often did, but waited for her to ask anyway. “How did you get that name? You are the only girl that I have ever known that had it.” Andrea couldn't read her girl-friend's expression, which worried her, because she usually could. “I'm sorry if I asked about something you'd rather not talk about, a painful memory or something unpleasant. Forget it.” Travis quickly shook her head. “It's not that. I do not mind at all talking about it. It is just that it is a very long story, and I was trying to find a way to shorten it, but there isn't one. How much time have you got?” “All the time in the world,” replied Andrea. “I have no plans other than spending time with you until at least the day after tomorrow.” “Well then,” said Travis. “Let's go back to your place first, where there is some privacy and a place to sit down. This tale is not for all ears and too long to tell standing up.” * * * Fifteen minutes later they sat in Andrea and Trent's living room once more, sipping the whine that Andrea had poured. Travis took several deep breaths, sighed twice and then began her tale. “I was born into a Religious Community that called itself The Church of The Prophets,” she said, looking like every word was costing her moments if not more of her life. “The priest of this church, who happened to be my uncle, taught that unless we were a member of that specific congregation, when we died our souls are going to Hell. Needless to say, this was an extremely conservative congregation. It was not even a denomination, it was just this single community. Anyone who was accused of any crime against GOD and Nature was tried before an ecclesiastical court, although if you were charged, your conviction was pretty much a foregone conclusion, and then. . .” “You were excommunicated,” Andrea guessed. “Not just excommunicated in the traditional sense,” Travis said. “Banished. The whole community turned their backs on you, folded their arms, said your first name, spat on the ground, said your middle name, spat, said your last name, spat, and then wiped their left foot, the foot of The Devil, in the spit, banishing your very name from their minds, in their minds from The Book of Life and from The Kingdom of GOD. Needless to say, being gay was one of the offenses that got one banished. Once a male, regardless of age, was banished, he was henceforth known even in our minds only as 'The Boy With No Name', and with females only as 'The Girl With No Name'” “And you are now one of 'the girls with no name,'” Andrea guessed. Travis nodded. “Even now, if I met someone who was banished before me, they would know me but I would not know them and their name would leave my head the moment after they had said it, although any who are banished after me I would be able to remember. . .” “Sounds like my kind of church,” said Trent, unexpectedly coming into the room and taking a seat, to Andrea's great displeasure. “How do I join?” “You don't,” replied Travis. “Only those who are born into The Church of The Prophets are allowed inside it.” “A fairly sparse population to come in Heaven then, according to them,” observed Andrea. Travis nodded. “It is important that you know all of that background for me to be able to tell you my story in a way that will make sense.” “Excuse me,” said Trent. “I don't want to hear any more about this.” He grabbed a beer from the fridge in the kitchen, went back into the other part of the house and turned the game up so loud that they had to go out in the back yard to keep talking. “As you know,” Travis then went on. “I was born with a whole host of health issues. Actually, no, I should back up a little bit, for the story of how I came to have this boy's name actually originates long before I was born or even conceived.” Suddenly, she coughed and keeled over. Andrea was at her side in an instant. “What do you need, Travis?” she asked in alarm. “A new heart and new kidneys,” Travis replied. “The doctor says these are wearing out, but without more comprehensive health coverage than someone with my medical history can get in a post Justice in Health Care country, I can not even get on a list.” Andrea couldn't bare to think on that at all, so she urged her girl-friend to finish her tale. “OK,” Travis went on once she was recovered enough to do so. “My mother's grandfather, who founded this congregation, was also named Travis. Travis Seth Irving. He was a very pious man, although accounts outside of official church records also indicate pompous. He declared that he was so holy and righteous and all that no man should ever share his name. He also made prophecies, as is obvious from the name he gave his church. He predicted that only another Travis could be another prophet, but since he had forbidden that that name ever be given to another male, he thought he was ensuring that no one would ever be able to challenge his teachings. But, when my mother realized she was pregnant, before she knew anything more than a home pregnancy test would tell her, she had a vision that a time of new revelation was upon them, and would be brought by her child. She and my father discussed this much, for they knew that to be a prophet, the child must be named Travis, but also that no boy could ever be named that.” “But you were not a boy, so they gave you the prophet's name,” Andrea finished. Travis nodded. “I accurately predicted an earthquake, several other natural disasters, and my own eventual health diagnosis before I turned three, and so they thought the vision was true. For many years, I was revered and honored, and most people knew me only as the second prophet, never using my first name, although I guess they must have remembered it. Then, when I began to become a woman, I spent a lot of time with boys, although many of them for one reason or another were eventually known as boys with no names, being gay is not the only reason for being banished from this community. Anyway, I always felt like there was something missing, but one day I kissed a girl, and it felt full. For a long time, I fought this and denied my nature, even convincing the sister of a boy with no name to testify on my behalf. But the spirit of prophecy kept coming upon me and eventually I could hold it inside no longer. I made a prophecy that a time was soon coming when they would see that their views on gays and many other matters are wrong. The next day, I was banished. But I kept this name in the hope that one day I will be able to bring the truth to this community” Andrea nodded, understanding. “And that's why you've never been interested in anything Church related.” Travis nodded. “That whole experience has rather turned me off to the whole idea of Organized Religion. I DO believe that God exists, but also that God is love, not hate, and that those who use His name to spread hate are not teachers of the truth. I'm not sure where I picked that up, given my upbringing, but I guess that I just know it to be true from inside, perhaps from being a prophet, or something. I'm not sure I believe in that any more, but I do believe in the power of love.” Suddenly, they were kissing, ripping each other's clothes off, and tumbling in the grass. Then, too fast for Andrea to do anything but watch, Travis wheezed, coughed, and then collapsed, clutching her chest and her side. “What can I do?” cried Andrea. “Nothing,” said Travis. “I knew the cost of starting what we just started, but I was almost out of time anyway. I wanted to go out on a high note. See you on the other side.” “Th wait will not be long,” said a voice from the patio door. Turning, Andrea saw Trent at the door, pointing a gun right at her. She gasped. She knew that gun. “That's the gun. . .” Trent nodded with a sneer. “Yes. That killed Jolene.” “So you ARE all the same,” she said in a hushed and shocked voice as behind her she heard Travis take in one last, gasping breath, then exhale and not inhale again. As she turned to take one last look at the love of he life, Trent fired and a moment later she saw Travis's soul headed upward towards the light and her own soul followed, as she saw the darkness emanating from her brother and so saw him as he truly was.