All the work I do for the pro-life movement is in honor of my children and grandchildren. As my latest grandson reaches the 8 month mark today, I continue to be haunted by the fact that thousands of children die a senseless death every day in America. I refuse to let this stand and I will continue to pester Planned Parenthood and all the usual suspects until the killing ends. America’s abortion industry is a cancer on our society and is sucking the life out of our moral foundation as well as our unborn children.
While children in Appalachia and all over America go to bed hungry every night, we continue to send hundreds of millions of dollars to Planned Parenthood. Most of my fellow Americans have never heard of Cecile Richards, but most of them can tell you who is competing on American Idol. We’ve lost our way and grown accustomed to an ‘instant gratification, damn the consequences’ society. We’ve become a nation that kills over a million of its own children every year. People like me can blame Planned Parenthood and everyone in America’s abortion industry, but they would cease to exist if there was no longer a demand for their deadly services. In the end, we’re all responsible for what we allow to be done to our children, and we all have a moral imperative to end the killing.
I try to stay in touch with Planned Parenthood’s president. Today’s letter is my latest effort.
Planned Parenthood Federation of America
1110 Vermont Ave. NW
Washington, D.C. 20005
Attn: Cecile Richards
April 10, 2014
My youngest grandson is 8 months old today. During the 8 months since his birth, nearly 900,000 children have been killed by America’s abortion industry. While he eats, grows, and plays, 1 out of 3 of his future playmates and friends are being slaughtered.
Ms. Richards, I’m sure by now your receptionist or whoever you designate to read my letters is getting sick of hearing from me. Quite frankly, I’m getting tired of writing to you. Let’s make a deal. You stop doing what you do and I’ll stop doing what I do.
You may not realize it, but Planned Parenthood and your colleagues in the abortion industry are working your way out of business. At the rate you are killing children, by the time this generation is of child-bearing age, you will have killed many of your future clients. Like it or not, when you’re in the business of killing for a living it never ends well. And like it or not, as long as you keep killing children I’ll keep writing letters to your receptionist.
I must admit that I’m at a bit of a competitive disadvantage with Planned Parenthood. At Planned Parenthood a baby comes in alive and goes out dead, day after day after day; no originality, no change. In alive, out dead. Every day I have to come up with a different way to piss off you and your friends. Every time it has to be a little different than the last.
Ms. Richards, you have to know that you and everyone in your industry are pariahs. If what you do every day was for the betterment of humanity why would all the world’s major religions condemn your practices? If you saved thousands of lives every day do you really think people like me would make it their life’s mission to put you out of business?
Ms. Richards, I’m not important. You’re not important. What’s really important is that every child be allowed to be born. What’s really important is that America returns to a time when every new child is a welcomed addition to its family and the world.
From now to the time my youngest grandson experiences his first whole summer, America’s abortion industry will have killed another half million children. You and Planned Parenthood will have ended another fiscal year, having killed over 300,000 children, while raking in over half a billion dollars from the U.S. taxpayers.
Tomorrow, as your receptionist reads my latest letter, he or she can rest assured that my next one is on the way. One last time; you stop doing what you do and I’ll stop doing what I do.
As always, my letters to you are published on my pro-life blog at www.prolifepoppop.com. Write back and I’ll publish it, unedited.