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Friday, February 25, 2011

Planned Parenthood: "OPERATING" according to the PLAN of the Mother of EUGENICS!!

The irony is that Obama is such a proponent of Abortion, EVEN INFANTICIDE, for he has voted when in the Senate to NOT GIVE AID TO CHILDREN WHO ESCAPED AN ABORTION AND WERE BORN ALIVE... to just let them die, UNAIDED!

If it were up to Margaret Sanger OBAMA WOULD HAVE BEEN ABORTED!

Her plan was to ELIMINATE BLACKS and keep her race pure!

Margaret Sanger's Account Of Her Lecture To The Ku Klux Klan / Educational Video Film

rosaryfilms | Jun 3, 2008

In 1926, Margaret Sanger, the founder of Planned Parenthood, was a guest speaker at a KKK rally in Silverlake, New Jersey. Here is Sanger's account of her trip to talk to the Ku Klux Klan from her autobiography. All text and images form Fair Use. Text reads as follows: "...I accepted an invitation to talk to the women's branch of the Ku Klux Klan at Silver Lake, New Jersey, one of the weirdest experiences I had in lecturing. My letter of instruction told me what train to take, to walk from the station two blocks straight ahead, then two to the left. I would see a sedan parked in front of a restaurant. If I wished I could have ten minutes for a cup of coffee or bite to eat, because no supper would be served later. I obeyed orders implicitly, walked the blocks, saw the car, found the restaurant, went in and ordered some cocoa, stayed my allotted ten minutes, then approached the car hesitatingly and spoke to the driver. I received no reply. She might have been totally deaf as far as I was 1 concerned. Mustering up my courage, I climbed in and settled back. Without a turn of the head, a smile, or a word to let me know I was right, she stepped on the self-starter. For fifteen minutes we wound around the streets. It must have been towards six in the afternoon. We took this lonely lane and that through the woods, and an hour later pulled up in a vacant space near a body of water beside a large, unpainted, barnish building. My driver got out, talked with several other women, then said to me severely, "Wait here. We will come for you." She disappeared. More cars buzzed up the dusty road into the parking place. Occasionally men dropped wives who walked hurriedly and silently within. This went on mystically until night closed down and I was alone in the dark. A few gleams came through chinks in the window curtains. Even though it was May, I grew chillier and chillier. After three hours I was summoned at last and entered a bright corridor filled with wraps. As someone came out of the hall I saw through the door dim figures parading with banners and illuminated crosses. I waited another twenty minutes. It was warmer and I did not mind so much. Eventually the lights were switched on, the audience seated itself, and I was escorted to the platform, was introduced, and began to speak. Never before had I looked into a sea of faces like these. I was sure that if I uttered one word, such as abortion, outside the usual vocabulary of these women they would go off into hysteria. And so my address that night had to be in the most elementary terms, as though I were trying to make children understand. In the end, through simple illustrations I believed I had accomplished my purpose. A dozen invitations to speak to similar groups were proffered. The conversation went on and on, and when we were finally through it was too late to return to New York. Under a curfew law everything in Silver Lake shut at nine o'clock. I could not even send a telegram to let my family know whether I had been thrown in the river or was being held incommunicado. It was nearly one before I reached Trenton, and I spent the night in a hotel."


By Bill Haley
October 9, 2007

Such a loving Margaret Sanger
Spoke to the Ku Klux Klan.
You might think they would hang her?
No, they would like her plan.

“Silent death is nice and quiet”,
The Klan began to think.
“We could kill without a riot,
And then they would not stink.”

“How many blacks we will get!”
Margaret’s new Klan thought,
“When we finish, then I bet
They’ll thank us as they ought.”

Such a loving Margaret Sanger
Spoke to the Ku Klux Klan.
You might think they would hang her?
No, they would love her plan.

When she spoke they sat and stared
With mouths opened wide,
They had never thought nor dared
To murder with such pride.

They were freed from their mask,
And the itchy hood.
Now they knew their first task:
To plan your parenthood.

Such a loving Margaret Sanger
Spoke to the Ku Klux Klan.
You might think they would hang her?
No, they will join her plan


Here I need make a sad confession: for years I ascribed a most beautiful poem to Margaret Sanger! When someone sent me something on abortion many days ago, again that horrible feeling: just HOW could it be that this MONSTER could have possibly written such a beautiful, heart-wrenching poem?!

Then last week I had the bright idea to look up other poems this vile person may have written, and could not find a single one, NOT EVEN THE ONE I THOUGHT SHE'D WRITTEN.

Since I could not recall the name of the poem, I could not find it on the web. Thus I reached for one of my most treasured books: The Best Loved Poems of the American People, and in it found the poem I recalled: "The sin of omission," and there, horrified and yet sighing a breath of relief I read the author's name: Margaret Sangster!!

Anyone who knows me knows me to be a stickler for good spelling and writing correctly, thus I am doubly horrified that I made one such HUGE mistake! But, PRAISE GOD, I shall NEVER AGAIN ascribe to any other this beautiful poem.

The Sin of Omission
by: Margaret E. Sangster

It isn't the thing you do, dear,
It's the thing you leave undone
That gives you a bit of a heartache
At setting of the sun.
The tender word forgotten,
The letter you did not write,
The flowers you did not send, dear,
Are your haunting ghosts at night.

The stone you might have lifted
Out of a brother's way;
The bit of heartsome counsel
You were hurried too much to say;
The loving touch of the hand, dear,
The gentle, winning tone
Which you had no time nor thought for
With troubles enough of your own.

Those little acts of kindness
So easily out of mind,
Those chances to be angels
Which we poor mortals find --
They come in night and silence,
Each sad, reproachful wraith,
When hope is faint and flagging,
And a chill has fallen on faith.

For life is all too short, dear,
And sorrow is all too great,
To suffer our slow compassion
That tarries until too late:
And it isn't the thing you do, dear,
It's the thing you leave undone
Which gives you a bit of a heartache
At the setting of the sun.

I know that elsewhere I have published this poem and given it the wrong credit! WHAT A SHAME!!


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