(Prolifer)ations 2-24-12
by Susie Allen, host of the blog, Pro-Life in TN, and Kelli
We welcome your suggestions for additions to our Top Blogs (see tab on right side of home page)! Email Susie@jillstanek.com.
- Don’t tell NARAL or Planned Parenthood, but John Smeaton reports the British Department of Health is admitting that cuts to contraceptive access have had no effect on the conception or abortion rate in the UK.
- Women’s Rights Without Frontiers reports that imprisoned Chinese activist Chen Guangcheng is seriously ill and has collapsed. He and his family were also prevented from attending the funeral of his elder brother, who passed away in January.
- The Passionate Pro-Lifer writes about the plight of Iranian Christian pastor Yosef Nadarkhani (pictured left), who has been charged with apostasy against Islam, a crime punishable by death. Please pray for this pastor and his family, and urge your congressmen to support HR 556, condemning the Iranian government for its treatment of Pastor Nadarkhani.
- Moral Outcry describes the increasing desire to limit family size – not in China, but here in America. Obama administration senior science advisor John Holdren is a population control advocate who claims children from large families have lower I.Q.’s (wouldn’t the Kennedys be shocked?) and who believes governments should make laws to help limit family size. Obviously Holdren hasn’t spoken to the Russian government lately, where they are seeking to increase family size due to a demographic winter.
- Secular Pro Life shares with us an email survey from Susan G. Komen for the Cure, which seeks to gauge attitudes about the recent Planned Parenthood controversy. Too little too late? Is PP wrong in thinking this is a settled issue?
- Human Life Matters posts a remarkable story by Dr. Dianne Irving, on her research into the human experimentation of Nazi doctor Josef Mengele (pictured right). The same utilitarian reasoning for his experimentation is the same one given today: “Well, they are going to die anyway, so we might as well get some good out of them.”
- Andrea Mrozek of ProWomanProLife says if she could choose to be any animal, she’d be a dolphin, since she would have people campaigning for her rights to “personhood.”
- Mommy Life publicizes the Human Life Foundation’s first pro-life essay contest for college students. First prize is $1,000.
[Nadarkhani photo via huffingtonpost.com; Mengele photo via funcrunch.com]
Feb.24, 2012 3:30 pm |
Blogs |
Jill Stanek is a nurse turned speaker, columnist and blogger, a national figure in the effort to protect both preborn and postborn innocent human life.
Wow! Joan, reality and friends -you were right! Oh, wait. You said limiting contraceptive access would INCREASE unplanned pregnancies and abortions. Never mind. My bad.
BECAUSE THE SEX. MUST. CONTINUE.
My friend has SEVEN children (I know, how dare she!) AND she home schools them and they are freaking geniuses and genuinely nice, respectful kids! Family size doesn’t determine IQ and anyone with an IQ should know that.
And Josef Mengele was a horrible, evil man. He removed organs from children while they were not anesthetized. Oh forgot, abortionists do that to children during abortions and after abortions to sell the organs. And yet Joan and CC always hate when we compare the baby killing industry to the nazis. Sorry. From where I stand I can’t tell a difference.
Before I was really interested in this stuff I thought holocaust/slavery comparisons were over the top. The more I learn, the more justified I find them to be.
anyone else see the word “test” up in the top lefthand corner by the title of the blog? Is Jill doing that, or is someone hacking?
Xalisae, I hadn’t noticed until you mentioned it, but I also see the word “test” in the left-hand corner.
It’s there for me too. Looking at the source code for the page…it doesn’t seem to be attached to anything. It’s just plunked down in the middle of the header code. It doesn’t seem like a spot a hacker would go for, so I’m thinking it’s just one of those weirdo things.
Thanks, Alice. I was just thinking that it might be an initial incognito test of someone maliciously taking over the page.
Checking on it. Thanks, X! :)
I tried reading that article on Nazi Doctor Josef Mengele.
I couldn’t finish. Experiments on 3 year-old twins are just a bit much.
I must also note that after the Nazis fell, Mengele escaped and became an abortionist in Argentina.
yes its beyond difficult to read about Nazi Germany and its just as difficult to read about abortion. i just cannot get around the evil people do. you are evil to have any part of it. its also evil to support the slogan ” a womans right to choose.” finish sentence…to choose murder. i can honestly say that NONE of the post abortive women i know ever got active in marches for choice. they just wanted to forget. i think many were too ashamed to support it. now some 10 12 15 years later many of these same women are sorry and they have even said ” i would never have another abortion.” some arent able to anymore but if something empowered me id do it as often as i could. i must conclude that abortion empowers nobody.
As taxpayers we can no longer afford spin off cost from the sexual revolution. Premarital abstinance (aka as chastity) and post marital monogamy would save the country a lot of money because the rate of STDs and MANY other ills would plummet. Of course those who profit from the current situation would not want that to happen. Do not expect that the clergy to address this situation from the pulpit because most want to keep their jobs. Sorry to be so cynical. We need to raise the conscience of America before it is too late. The fall began forty years ago when the “pill” was developed and as one Planned Parenthood supporter told me, “Well you know, sex is not sacred anymore”. What have we seen happen over the course of years, just read the newspapers for crimes against childrn. As a taxpayer, I am tired of paying for a licenses to lust. We have been enslaved as culture to accept as politically correct behavior that our religious belief condemn as evil.
Janet, well said!
Speaking of the nazis. Guess what they did during their twin experiments?
“Dr Miklos Nyiszli was Mengele’s prisoner pathologist. The autopsies became the final experiment. Dr. Nyiszli performed autopsies on twins whom had died from the experiments or whom had been purposely killed just for after-death measurements and examination. Some of the twins had been stabbed with a needle that pierced their heart and then were injected with chloroform or phenol which caused near immediate blood coagulation and death.”
Isn’t that EXACTLY what the abortionists like Tiller were doing to late term babies? And Joan and CC scoff when we tell them they are EXACTLY like the nazis.
Like I said Sydney, I am more and more convinced the comparison is valid. The only important differences between Tiller and Mengele are time and place.
“Science has shown us that cetaceans have most, if not all, the characteristics that humans have, including intelligence, self-awareness, autonomy and social complexity,” said Lori Marino, one of four scientists who presented the Declaration of Rights for Cetaceans: Whales and Dolphins at the American Association for the Advancement of Science annual meeting on the weekend. “Their basic needs are very much like humans — to be able to stay alive, to not be confined, to make choices and travel, and perhaps foremost to engage in social interaction.”
After getting to know a dolphin, heck – even a dog, do we really say “there is nobody there”?
Xalisae: I was just thinking that it might be an initial incognito test of someone maliciously taking over the page.
Probably a dastardly, pro-choice dolphin bent not only on world domination but also taking a flipper and hitting the “Like” button 25,000,000 times. ;)
Okay, all that follows is ‘NAR’ – (non-abortion-related). Hmm…. In ‘The Lord of the Rings’ at least one orc said, “Nar.”
After Christmas
He lives in an upstairs room, far away from all his family and most of his friends. It’s cheaply furnished, and could be a little cleaner, but it’s still decent, he guesses. Outside, under a leaden sky, small dark trees stand in silhouette. Yesterday, they caught a plastic bag blowing through the air, and now the branches hold it, tenderly yet greedily. Does the wind sound louder when it’s cold? Sometimes when he wakes up, it seems strange that this is his home, but it is. Today he had tears in his eyes when he got out of bed, and he feels odd about that, slightly shamed, though there’s nobody around to see. It’s just that he wishes he could feel like he used to.
He goes outside and walks through some of his old places. He’d always liked the sorrowful parts of the city, dirty and less-ordered. Broken concrete sidewalks, ratty trees and weeds growing wherever they could, partially crumbled buildings and people. Dust and trash blowing around if it was dry, cold in winter, hot in summer. There was such a sense of reality about it – not all prettied up to fake something, like it was better than it was. There was a stillness to the people there. They didn’t want to face into the wind or go through life any faster than they had to – they’d been rubbed against enough already. As he heads home, he thinks of walking to school along those same streets.
There was a city park with a small lake, and it fed a stream that went downhill and east, making a little ravine and then a valley, then a larger valley. The north-south roads had bridges over it. It seemed absurd that such a little stream could make such a big valley, but water has time, and erosion and nature are patient. The valley was full of trees and leaves, nice trees – maples and oaks, the world in the midst of man, and it had a trail at the bottom of it, along the stream. The Hollow. That’s what they called it. “Going down the Hollow” was something kids did. At night it was dark, and sometimes you’d see people down there, people who didn’t want to be seen.
He usually walked to school with his best friend Donnie. They’d go up their block, then turn north on a road that had a bridge over the Hollow. They always looked down at the stream at the bottom far below. Nobody cleared away the snow on the sidewalk as it went over the bridge, and their footprints joined hundreds of others. Some of those winter evenings, he and Donnie would sneak out of their houses for mischief, petty vandalism, the exploration of being boys. When the wind blows and there’s snow at night, people aren’t out. The city is cleaner and you almost have it to yourself. Snowflakes drifting down, under the lights.
In the days after Christmas, the trees began to appear in the little margin of grass between the sidewalk and the street. Firs, spruces, pines, stripped of their former glory, banished from family room and parlor, set out for disposal. Along with Donnie, he’d grab a tree, drag it all the way to the Hollow, and throw it over the side of the bridge. On the way home from school they would do the same thing, and thus their own personal monument took shape, two trees, twice a day. Or even more than that – if the trees were small, they could drag one in each hand, totally sweeping the sidewalk in passing, leaving their mark on the world there too.
Naturally, the smaller trees went first. There came a time when only big ones were left, and they’d cleaned out all the trees, period, between their houses and the bridge. They had to walk in the opposite direction, get a couple trees, then head back past their own street and on to the bridge. He saw the smaller tree one morning, and ran ahead to claim it, leaving Donnie with such a large forest monster that it was hard to believe it had ever been inside a house. “You’ll never get that one,” he said. Donnie was a small guy, and this tree had to outweigh him by a lot. Some great principle was at stake, however, and Donnie was, as they say, “a scrapper.”
“Shows how much you know,” Donnie said, grabbing a branch low on the tree (the trunk was far too large to grab one-handed) and starting off with determined strides. Except the tree didn’t move. “It’s just frozen to the ground, and I can do it,” Donnie said, and kicked the trunk sideways. It moved pretty easily, there, shifting a little on the snow. It wasn’t stuck to the ground, it was just damn heavy. Donnie turned around backwards and with both hands on the trunk, gave a mighty tug. The tree moved, but not much. Repeating this process, Donnie managed to move the tree halfway down one block, though the pace was tortuous.
“Donnie, we got twenty minutes ’til school – we’re gonna be late. Let’s just take my tree and we’ll get yours after school.”
“You go ahead, I’m doin’ this.”
“You’re gonna get in trouble.”
“I’m doin’ it.”
Donnie didn’t show up for the first period class or for the second. It was closer to lunchtime when he appeared, smiling like everything was a big joke. It was hilarious to hear him tell about it later – being late he had to go to the office, and the people there were horrified at his hands, slightly cut up and bleeding, but mainly filthy with tree sap and the dirt and bark fragments stuck to them. They got some soap and stuff from the janitor to dissolve the sap, cleaned him up, and called his parents. He’d told pretty much the straight story – what lie could he have come up with that would have sounded any better? His mom was mad that he’d been late, but nobody really come down on him too hard.
They laughed about it like crazy, after school. He’d done it. No cops or parents had stopped him, and he’d taken the tree the whole way. Of course they went right to the Hollow, this time with two manageable trees in tow. Big tree, down at the bottom. It had hit the pile, and bounced off to the side, its own special place. Had to be just about the best day for the both of them, ever. Donnie was proud, but there was more to it than that, some necessarily little aspect of Fate had clicked. As January wore on, they didn’t find as many trees, and eventually it was all done. Eventually the school year too was done, and then more years, and school itself was done. The trees at the bottom of the Hollow had rotted away to nothing. Donnie was shipped off to war, and killed within a month.
There was a loud card game downstairs, people chasing after their own visions of themselves. He wished they’d be quieter, but he didn’t care all that much. Really, all he wanted to do was see some of the people he remembered from long ago. The shopkeepers, even the grouchy ones. Shopkeepers saw a lot of people, and they knew things about people. The old guys who sat outside, or who sat inside at the bar. They had their own odd tavern society, and even as a kid he’d seen some of the sadness in it. It was still okay with him. The bad was in there with the good, but at least the good was real.
That’s it – he wanted to see those people.