Anne Furedi
The
squib below, which I do not claim as great poetry! was written recently after
listening to Anne Furedi, probably the most notorious name in the British
abortion industry, even though she is now retired, defend, promote and extol
abortion as a great achievement of women’s autonomy, rights and career
ambitions. No mention was made of the rights of the child or, indeed, of
fathers. Particularly eye-widening were her admission that the unborn human has
special status – but not special enough to save it from convenience killing and
her claim that there should be no laws whatever governing abortion (late term
abortions being relatively rare could be ignored). She is also on record as
defending the killing of young girls in the womb in favour of young boys, if
the mother so desires.
It is the height of tragic irony that the public realm tends to be consumed
these days with controversy about the mass immigration being promoted by the
current government, indeed by all major political parties, as a solution for
the growing shortage of working age people in the labour force. No mention is
made that since abortion was legalized “for difficult cases” in 1968 ten
million young British workers have been killed in the womb by the moral filth
of abortion – thus resulting in the current labour shortages and the rapid
ageing of the population.
“And
what goes round goes round”: courtesy of the egregious Matt Hancock, then
Health Secretary, abortion during the Covid pandemic was returned to its
“roots” when unsupervised home abortion by pills was made universally available
– a move carefully orchestrated and acclaimed by the profit-making abortion
providers. Inevitably the casualty list of women needing emergency treatment
for incomplete or botched abortions has soared. Back street abortion is once
more a reality.
We have ended up in the “civilized” post-Christian position of doing all we can
to keep the elderly alive (I write as a 73 year old) and all we can to kill as
many young as possible. Is it a surprise that the judgement of God is upon our
society?
BELATED
LINES TO ANN FUREDI OCCASIONED BY HER RETIREMENT AS CHIEF EXECUTIVE OF THE
BRITISH PREGNANCY ADVISORY SERVICE (BPAS)
(Note:
Ann Furedi retired as BPAS Chief Executive in December 2020 and is now
Vice-Chair of the Governing Body of MidKent College of Higher and Further
Education).
Since
1968
When
killing in the womb
Became
a “freedom” thing,
10
million in spate
Young
British folk and true
Have
fallen to their fate:
And
that is why I sing
In
praise of Ann Furedi.
In
2021
A
quarter million plus
Of
young in the womb’s spring
Were
drugged or knifed to none;
The
mothers, fraught, went home,
The
slaughter slick and done:
And
that is why I sing
In
praise of Ann Furedi.
A
“libertarian,”
Gradgrind
in her logic,
The
right to keep or sling
One’s
child, for her is clarion;
Thus,
that boys might live
Girls
must become carrion:
And
that is why I sing
In
praise of Ann Furedi.
“The
best job in the world”
She
called her work at BPAS
Attracting
the media’s bling
–
Their
approval blatant, pearled,
For
“record-breaking growth”
Was
hers, a black flag unfurled:
And
that is why I sing
In
praise of Ann Furedi.
Abortion
policy,
She’s
said, should be a blank,
A
Wild West where money’s “ping”
Kills
up to birth scot-free.
She’s
helped at a late-term killing
Then
slept all night like the sea:
And
that is why I sing
In
praise of Ann Furedi.
Well,
Britain’s millions short
We’re
told of working folk,
But
that’s abortion’s sting –
There’s
pint where should be quart:
At
MidKent now, Mère Ann
Tempts
the young to abort:
And
that is why I sing
In
praise of Ann Furedi.
And
what goes round goes round:
Home
aborts by pill –
What
joy, the postman’s ring! –
Bring
back to its old ground
Death
with its cramps and blood –
Back
street killing is crowned!
And
that is why I sing
In
praise of Ann Furedi.
And
so, the self-demise
Of
the West’s Christian fact
To
which so few now cling
Results
in Ba’al’s flies
Crawling
the newborns’
faces
Exposed
under pagan skies:
And
that is why I sing
In
praise of Ann Furedi.
by Prayer Crusader St Cecilia
