The news of the murder of Dr George Tiller on Sunday has shocked thousands of people across the world. George Tiller was an abortionist who specialised in late-term abortions, and owned one of 3 clinics in America which aborted babies after 21 weeks.
It seems ironic that the killer has been killed. The murderer has been murdered. The abortionist has been aborted. But George Tiller should not have been killed. 'Tiller the Killer' has killed 60,000 unborn children, and we can assume he was killed by somebody who is pro-life.
I speak for myself, and the majority of pro-lifers when I say that the taking of a human life stands against all we believe in. Pro-LIFE. The clue's in the title, people.
The murder of Tiller will not solve the problem of abortion. Somebody will take his place in the abortion clinic. By murdering Tiller, all that this gunman has achieved is to turn more people against the pro-life movement, and peg us all as 'anti-abortion extremis[ts]' and 'domestic terrorists' (according to some American nutjob called Bonnie Erbe on USNews.com).
Killing a killer does not make you pro-life. Murdering an abortionist does not make you pro-life. It's not like there's a 'one abortionist down, 14,999 to go' pledge. Getting rid of abortionists is not going to work. There are many more people who can fill an abortionist's bloody shoes, especially if Obama's plans for overturning the Right of Conscience act come to fruition. What is important is education, education, education. If you don't know the full story about abortion, why would you be pro-choice or pro-life? If you sit on the fence, hearing about pro-life 'terrorism' will probably send you screaming towards the pro-choice gang.
Regardless of your opinions on abortion, don't let the murder of George Tiller cloud your judgement or opinion of the pro-life movement. His murder goes against pro-lifer's views in the same way his 60,000 late-term abortions do.
Tuesday, 2 June 2009
Tuesday, 26 May 2009
Cycling for newbies
One of my guilty little secrets has always been that I can’t ride a bike.
It may not seem like that big a secret, or any sort of a deal, but I have learned not to mention this to people unless unavoidable. On hearing this revelation, friends/wellwishers/strangers either
a) look at me with pity and say ‘Oh, well it IS very hard to do’
b) laugh like a loon on loon pills
c) ask the age old question of ‘HOW? How have you never learned how to cycle?’ (implicitly speculating whether I am special)
d) question my ability to do any sort of activity...swim, jog, walk, breathe etc.
I assure you that I can do the other activities. I swear. It was always cycling that caused me trouble.
My poor daddio tried to teach me how to cycle for THREE YEARs. Needless to say, he gave up. THREE YEARS of coaxing me to get on a bike, holding me up so I could balance, and then running with me sitting on the bike, letting go...and then watching me fall face first on the ground. (You’d think after the first year, he would have devised another technique to teach me)
I rode with stabilisers on my bike till I was 9. Then other children made fun of me and I realised I was a great big spanner.
But...at the tender age of 25, the little cyclist in me has been granted her dreams and has learned how to cycle. How, you may think, with awe and wonder in your hearts, did this great big un-cycling excuse-for-a-human-being learn?
A couple of Saturdays ago, I found myself shivering in a primary school playground with 3 other apprehensive looking women, and a jolly cycling instructor who looked like he subscribed to every boy scouts motto ever created, wondering what the hell I was doing. We had signed up for a free Transport For London (TFL) cycling lesson, and over the next hour and half, were supposed to learn how to cycle.
Impossible, I cried when I heard this. I haven’t been able to ride a bike in 25 years. How would I learn in a mere 90 minutes?
It was fantastic. First, we were shown how to mount the bike, and how the brakes worked. Then Boy Scout got us to line up at the top of a slight slope in the playground, and showed us how to push off with our feet, and then put our feet up. As soon as we felt we were going to fall, we could put our feet back down. Through this exercise, we would find our natural sense of balance.
I admit it. I was apprehensive. I did it, thinking that this wouldn’t work and I would have to go home a failure. After about 20 minutes, I got it. First in the class! There was a real feel of comradery, with everyone encouraging each other, making jokes and helping each other out. Carried on with a feeling of accomplishment, then the Boy Scout told me to do the same, but push off using the right hand pedal, and then put my feet up. After about 5 minutes, I naturally started using my left foot and VOILA! I was cycling. The other women looked on with green-eyes, but picked it up soon after me and we were all congratulating each other and swapping email addresses so we could book our next session together.
I then had lots of practises, a few falling overs and some bruises from bashing into a bin, and then a bench, when I forgot to use my brakes. By the end I was a shaky but able cyclist.
So...my verdict. The TFL free cycling lessons scheme works. Fun, safe, well structured lesson with a great ‘safety first’ motto wielding instructor and many jokes about saddle sore. I am going back in a few weeks for more practising and some road safety, which uses up the 2 free lessons the government has granted me.
If you are reading this and can’t cycle, but would like to, AND live in London look it up on Google and get going! Cycling
a) saves money on petrol
b) gets you places quicker than buses if you can’t drive
c) is environmentally friendly
d) gives you a chance to be outdoors
e) makes you fitter, healthier and more toned. Or so I hear.
Until next time...
Melodia Indiana
It may not seem like that big a secret, or any sort of a deal, but I have learned not to mention this to people unless unavoidable. On hearing this revelation, friends/wellwishers/strangers either
a) look at me with pity and say ‘Oh, well it IS very hard to do’
b) laugh like a loon on loon pills
c) ask the age old question of ‘HOW? How have you never learned how to cycle?’ (implicitly speculating whether I am special)
d) question my ability to do any sort of activity...swim, jog, walk, breathe etc.
I assure you that I can do the other activities. I swear. It was always cycling that caused me trouble.
My poor daddio tried to teach me how to cycle for THREE YEARs. Needless to say, he gave up. THREE YEARS of coaxing me to get on a bike, holding me up so I could balance, and then running with me sitting on the bike, letting go...and then watching me fall face first on the ground. (You’d think after the first year, he would have devised another technique to teach me)
I rode with stabilisers on my bike till I was 9. Then other children made fun of me and I realised I was a great big spanner.
But...at the tender age of 25, the little cyclist in me has been granted her dreams and has learned how to cycle. How, you may think, with awe and wonder in your hearts, did this great big un-cycling excuse-for-a-human-being learn?
A couple of Saturdays ago, I found myself shivering in a primary school playground with 3 other apprehensive looking women, and a jolly cycling instructor who looked like he subscribed to every boy scouts motto ever created, wondering what the hell I was doing. We had signed up for a free Transport For London (TFL) cycling lesson, and over the next hour and half, were supposed to learn how to cycle.
Impossible, I cried when I heard this. I haven’t been able to ride a bike in 25 years. How would I learn in a mere 90 minutes?
It was fantastic. First, we were shown how to mount the bike, and how the brakes worked. Then Boy Scout got us to line up at the top of a slight slope in the playground, and showed us how to push off with our feet, and then put our feet up. As soon as we felt we were going to fall, we could put our feet back down. Through this exercise, we would find our natural sense of balance.
I admit it. I was apprehensive. I did it, thinking that this wouldn’t work and I would have to go home a failure. After about 20 minutes, I got it. First in the class! There was a real feel of comradery, with everyone encouraging each other, making jokes and helping each other out. Carried on with a feeling of accomplishment, then the Boy Scout told me to do the same, but push off using the right hand pedal, and then put my feet up. After about 5 minutes, I naturally started using my left foot and VOILA! I was cycling. The other women looked on with green-eyes, but picked it up soon after me and we were all congratulating each other and swapping email addresses so we could book our next session together.
I then had lots of practises, a few falling overs and some bruises from bashing into a bin, and then a bench, when I forgot to use my brakes. By the end I was a shaky but able cyclist.
So...my verdict. The TFL free cycling lessons scheme works. Fun, safe, well structured lesson with a great ‘safety first’ motto wielding instructor and many jokes about saddle sore. I am going back in a few weeks for more practising and some road safety, which uses up the 2 free lessons the government has granted me.
If you are reading this and can’t cycle, but would like to, AND live in London look it up on Google and get going! Cycling
a) saves money on petrol
b) gets you places quicker than buses if you can’t drive
c) is environmentally friendly
d) gives you a chance to be outdoors
e) makes you fitter, healthier and more toned. Or so I hear.
Until next time...
Melodia Indiana
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