Kermit Gosnell Found Guilty

"After 10 days of deliberations, a Philadelphia, Pa., jury convicted abortion doctor Kermit Gosnell on Monday of three counts of first-degree murder in the deaths of three infants born alive at his medical clinic. He was also pronounced guilty of involuntary manslaughter in the death of Karnamaya Mongar, a 41-year-old refugee from Bhutan who died after having an abortion at his clinic.

Gosnell was also pronounced guilty of 16 counts of violating the state's informed consent requirements, and guilty of 21 counts of performing abortions after 24 weeks of gestation, the legal limit in Pennsylvania.
Gosnell, 72, was charged with four counts of first-degree murder for allegedly cutting the spinal cords of third-term babies he delivered alive. He also faced one count of third-degree murder in the death of Mongar, and more than 200 other charges related to racketeering, performing illegal late-term abortions, and failing to comply with Pennsylvania's 24-hour waiting period requirement for abortions.

Abortion rights advocates applauded the verdict and said the Gosnell case highlights the need for access to safe, high quality, and legal abortion. Gosnell ran a medical clinic in West Philadelphia that catered mostly to poor, minority women. The clinic was shuttered after authorities raided it and discovered what the prosecution in the case characterized as a 'house of horrors'


'Justice was served to Kermit Gosnell today, and he will pay the price for the atrocities he committed,' said Ilyse Hogue, president of NARAL Pro-Choice America. 'We hope that the lessons of the trial do not fade with the verdict. Anti-choice politicians, and their unrelenting efforts to deny women access to safe and legal abortion care, will only drive more women to back-alley butchers like Kermit Gosnell. From the lack of funding available for low-income women to access abortion services, to the sharp decline of reputable providers in Pennsylvania, to the gross negligence of authorities to enforce the law after complaints were filed against Gosnell, each aspect of this case must be a teachable moment for lawmakers: Until we reject the politicization of women's medical care and leave these decisions where they belong -- between a woman and her family and her doctor -- women will never be safe.'"

via The Huffington Post 

Children Need Love Too

I feel compelled to share this with everyone in hopes that one person will do something nice for someone else today:

I work in a low-income, high-crime area of Charlotte. I have my concealed carry permit, but no gun (soon to be changing) and pepper spray. By training, I constantly scan people with my eyes to see if they're carrying a weapon, or where they could be concealing one. And if I get out of my car to go in anywhere in the area around my work, I carry in my pepper spray. Yesterday, I stopped in a convenience store on my way back from lunch and witnessed a little girl- no older than maybe eight- two people ahead of me in line being barraged by the man she was with about "how much f**king money she costs him...what a selfish little b**ch she is" and how lucky she was they were in public because he was going to "teach her about the value of sh*t when they got home."

May I repeat that a grown man, whoever he was to her, loudly called an elementary-aged child a "selfish little b**ch" then threatened her in the crowded line at a convenience store?! To be clear, I am pro-spanking as discipline and I got many a "I'm gonna count to three before I embarrass you in this grocery store/restaurant/birthday party/school/church function, etc." as a child and I knew I’d better straighten up quick or my bottom was going to sting when we got home. But you could tell by the tone in his voice and the contempt he had in his eyes that this wasn't just going to be a spanking, and it wasn't for the purpose of discipline. To make matters worse, not one of the seven or eight other adults standing in the store or behind the counter even batted an eye- like this was just business as usual! I was appalled that not one person in that store was going to stand up for this little girl, or at least pretend to look uncomfortable!

While the man was fumbling with the contents of his pockets that he’d emptied onto the counter, I caught the little girl’s eyes. In an attempt to keep her from the tears she was on the verge of, I smiled, squatted down to her level, asked her how she was and (without thinking) said, “it’s okay honey, sometimes adults get mad and say things they don’t mean but…” The belligerent man cut me off, grabbed her by the shoulder and turned her around to face the counter, telling her not to listen to people who need to mind their own business. This was completely unnecessary since she was too afraid to even look up from the ground or speak to me once I tried to engage her.

I stood up, turned my attention to the "man" who was starting to put his belongings back in his pockets and in the sweetest, most polite, non-confrontational voice I could muster said, "Sir, there's no reason to talk to a pretty little girl that way, is there? Besides, you’re in public and there are other children and women around who could be offended by your loud cursing." Everyone in the store went silent. Obviously shocked to be challenged, he turned his whole body to face me and said (so angrily that he was spitting, and the patrons standing between us stepped back- thanks guys) that I should keep my "white, b**ch mouth closed if I knew what was good for me." He was so close to me I could have reached my arm out and put my hand almost completely flat against his chest. Again, not one person witnessing this even flinched. Despite how terrified I was, I put on the most resolute face I could and in the biggest white girl move ever held the pepper spray- that I was clutching from the moment I walked in the door- in between my face and his. Almost predictably, he laughed...laughed! He goes from berating this poor child to getting in my face, cursing me, and doubting my intention of protecting myself. Um, no, momma don't play that.

[This part of the story won't go down in history as one of the classier times in my life, and I refer to this type of explosion of raw, impassioned fury as "the Robeson County coming out of me," but I blanked. It rarely happens but when it does, I think I am invincible for some reason, only to realize later that is not the case...not the case at all. I'm working on it.]

I took a step half-step toward him, closing the distance between us, and with every drop of the sweet, polite, Southernness gone from my voice, I looked over the pepper spray and into his eyes and said something to the effect of, "You can take yourself a step back or get to experience what it feels like to have an entire can of mace emptied on your punk ass in front of that little girl you've been disrespecting. You might feel like a tough guy because you can intimidate someone who hasn't even taken the EOG's, but you don't scare me." I was scared. My life potentially depended on how he reacted to the ultimatum I’d just spewed at him. Time. Stopped. The Robeson County in me was gone and I was back to being essentially unarmed, in a convenience store I know is in one of the most dangerous parts of the city, threatening a man who clearly has a propensity for violence, while surrounded by a group of people who up until this point had shown nothing but apathy. I’ve never even had to pull my pepper spray on anyone before. What the hell was I thinking?

He took a step back and tried to provoke me into following through on my threat with the words "try me." The only thing that could leave my lips was, “you stepped back didn’t you?” Being the crime-heavy place it is, law enforcement is ever-present. By sheer destiny, I saw a police car pull into the parking lot and the man followed my eyes with his. He grabbed the rest of his things, the little girl by the wrist, and drug her behind him out the door. I suddenly realized that he was surely going to take all of his anger towards me out on her. I couldn’t let them just walk away knowing that I had likely single-handedly put that little girl in even more danger by trying to help, so I went out the door after them/for the police and was met at the door by the officer. He asked me if everything was okay and I pointed to the man and said- through the tears that were welling in my own eyes, “you may need to have a discussion with that man about how he treats women and children.” The officer stopped the man and the little girl as another police car pulled into the parking lot. The new officer and his partner separated the man and child while I explained what had transpired.

After gathering information and statements from the spineless bunch inside, the officer informed me that this whole hateful outburst began when the girl put a snack on the counter that his EBT card wouldn’t cover. I declined the officer’s offer to file a report, but repeatedly begged him not to let the girl leave with him. I was told that I could leave since I didn’t want to file a report, but that they would continue to interview the little girl and if they found evidence of abuse, she wouldn’t be released to him until Child Protective Services reviewed the case. Anxious for the girl, I got in my car and left.

I couldn’t comprehend that THAT was what all of this was over. HIS inability to find enough change to cover the $1.29 difference was what made him react in such a volatile manner. I would have happily covered the difference for him had I known that would have been all it took to protect this girl for at least a few minutes. I guess, subconsciously, it was why I instinctively said something without thinking about the potential consequences. In no way did I want to go toe to toe with this angry man, but better me than a little girl who hasn't even hit puberty yet. Surely people aren't so indifferent that one of the men- or even women- in the store would have stepped in had things gotten physical, right? Maybe I was the first person who ever told him that speaking to a child that way is inexcusable and he’ll work on it. Maybe I'm the first person any of those people had ever seen stand up for a stranger and it showed them that it's okay for people to care about other people even if they don't know them. Maybe she'll remember this in ten years when a boy tries to put her down and she'll know that she is completely justified in telling him to go screw himself, that she deserves better. Maybe he beat the hell out of her when they got home and it was my fault. I hope it wasn't the latter and I'll probably lose sleep worrying about that girl, but I want to believe that something good came from what I did.

I don't know where the disconnect is with people, but children are a product of their environment. No wonder kids use language that is too mature for their age and grow up to be disrespectful, angry, self-harming, irresponsible, violent people, or think they are undeserving of success or love or respect. If someone they see as important treats them like trash when they’re most impressionable, they’re going to believe they’re trash. They think they're astronauts, bus drivers, princesses, rock stars, vets, or whatever; but as a society we have to remember that there's more to children than vivid imaginations. They're sensitive, fragile sponges who see and hear more than we give them credit for, and they have feelings that are easily hurt. They need people in their lives to look up to, people who speak to them like they're important, who care about their betterment and making them feel special and loved. This little girl looked broken and defeated. No one should be made to feel broken or defeated; not an eight year old, not you, not me, not anyone you care about, not even a stranger. I'm far from perfect and I say ugly things more often than I'd like to admit, but I think if every person on this planet woke up every morning and decided to live their life by The Golden Rule, the world would be a lot nicer place to be.

Mom, thank you for raising me to be a person who understands right from wrong, for instilling in me the courage to be willing to speak for those who can't speak for themselves, and for never making me feel broken. And most importantly, everything is fine so DON’T FREAK OUT.

Jerry Richards and the Charlotte City Council Have Lost Their Damn Minds with the Proposed Upgrades to the Panther's Stadium

"Carolina Panthers president Danny Morrison said the team plans to begin renovations on its 16-year-old stadium immediately after the 2013 NFL season and estimates the project could take two years to complete. The master plan calls for between $261 million and $297 million in upgrades, according to Morrison. Charlotte's City Council is backing a proposal to give the Panthers nearly $144 million from a food and beverage tax increase to pay for stadium upgrades and the team is seeking more than $60 million in state funds." http://espn.go.com/nfl/story/_/id/8941095/carolina-panthers-begin-stadium-renovation-2013-season

"The team's top four priorities are installing new escalators to carry fans to the upper level ($28 million), video and ribbon boards and sound system ($59 million), technology upgrades ($25 million) and improving the stadium's infrastructure, including new seats ($62 million). Team officials also want to expand entry gates and ticket offices to make it easier for fans to enter ($16 million), improve concourses ($35 million) and club and suite level ($29 million), and possibly add an indoor practice facility ($30 million)." http://www.newsobserver.com/2013/02/11/2672875/panthers-break-down-stadium-improvement.html

There are homeless people living on the streets, shelters are at capacity, unemployed parents are struggling to provide necessities for their families, animal shelters need funding for expansion and education due to all of the irresponsible pet owners, college costs are so astronomical they're preventing people from acquiring higher education, entire parts of the city are in various levels of deterioration or dilapidation, the mental healthcare system needs a complete overhaul, 17% of Second Harvest Food Bank of Metrolina’s service area lives in poverty- including almost 209,000 children and seniors, the education system is a joke...I could go on forever. All of this is prevalent not only in Charlotte, but the whole state and country. I went to one Panther's game this past season and let me tell you, the lackluster experience I had then had absolutely nothing to do with the lack of escalators or my experience with the entrance gates or sound system, and more to do with the fact the team is garbage and like all stadiums, everything sold inside its walls is overpriced. I have a sense of loyalty for the team since they represent the Carolinas, but take them somewhere else if this stadium is just too subpar to go on- oh, the humanity! The audacity of the city to raise taxes (that could potentially hurt business at local bars and restaurants) so they can give $144 million to a stadium for an unnecessary face-lift instead of funneling the money to benefit the citizens and improve the city beyond one structure is absolutely atrocious, vile, disgusting, reprehensible, irresponsible, completely lacking in common sense, and should- quite frankly- be illegal. THEN for Richards to ask for an additional $62.5 million from the state is absurdity. He may say he'll never move the Panthers from Charlotte, but he's only obligated to stay here for the 15 years agreed upon in this preposterous deal. If the Panther's can't make the "necessary" changes with the $96 million they plan to contribute, maybe they can take a little from the players' salaries or wait until they sell enough $9 lukewarm draft beers to cover the rest. Even better, Bruton Smith has offered to buy the whole operation for the right price and even went so far as to say, “I would commit to the city – and I would not ask for money.” I think Richards has a bright future as a politician seeing as how he has a complete misunderstanding of real issues deserving funding.

Gas Chambers: Demand Change

Let me preface this by saying it brings me no joy to read/view/post/have to think about the idea of animals being euthanized- especially in a gas chamber (even the words have such a cruel connotation), but this is an unfortunate reality that I hope to help change...

"Yes, I Gas Dogs and Cats for a Living. I'm an Animal Control officer in a very small town in central North Carolina. I'm in my mid thirties, and have been working for the town in different positions since high school. There is not much work here, and working for the county provides good pay and benefits for a person like me without a higher education. I'm the person you all write about how horrible I am. I'm the one that gasses the dogs and cats and makes them suffer. I'm the one that pulls their dead corpses out smelling of Carbon Monoxide and throws them into green plastic bags. But I'm also the one that hates my job and hates what I have to do.

First off, all you people out there that judge me, don't. God is judging me, and I know I'm going to Hell. Yes, I'm going to hell. I wont lie, it's despicable, cold, cruel and I feel like a serial killer. I'm not all to blame, if the law would mandate spay and neuter, lots of these dogs and cats wouldn't be here for me to gas. I'm the devil, I know it, but I want you people to see that there is another side to me the devil Gas Chamber man.

The shelter usually gasses on Friday morning. Friday's are the day that most people look forward to, this is the day that I hate, and wish that time will stand still on Thursday night. Thursday night, late, after nobody's around, my friend and I go through a fast food line, and buy 50 dollars worth of cheeseburgers and fries, and chicken. I'm not allowed to feed the dogs on Thursday, for I'm told that they will make a mess in the gas chamber, and why waste the food.

So, Thursday night, with the lights still closed, I go into the saddest room that anyone can every imagine, and let all the doomed dogs out out their cages. I have never been bit, and in all my years doing this, the dogs have never fought over the food. My buddy and I, open each wrapper of cheeseburger and chicken sandwich, and feed them to the skinny, starving dogs.

They swallow the food so fast, that I don't believe they even taste it. There tails are wagging, and some don't even go for the food, they roll on their backs wanting a scratch on their bellys. They start running, jumping and kissing me and my buddy. They go back to their food, and come back to us. All their eyes are on us with such trust and hope, and their tails wag so fast, that I have come out with black and blues on my thighs.. They devour the food, then it's time for them to devour some love and peace. My buddy and I sit down on the dirty, pee stained concrete floor, and we let the dogs jump on us. They lick us, they put their butts in the air to play, and they play with each other. Some lick each other, but most are glued on me and my buddy.

I look into the eyes of each dog. I give each dog a name.

They will not die without a name.

I give each dog 5 minutes of unconditional love and touch.

I talk to them, and tell them that I'm so sorry that tomorrow they will die a gruesome, long, torturous death at the hands of me in the gas chamber.

Some tilt their heads to try to understand.

I tell them, that they will be in a better place, and I beg them not to hate me.

I tell them that I know I'm going to hell, but they will all be playing with all the dogs and cats in heaven.

After about 30 minutes, I take each dog individually, into their feces filled concrete jail cell, and pet them and scratch them under their chins. Some give me their paw, and I just want to die. I just want to die. I close the jail cell on each dog, and ask them to forgive me. As my buddy and I are walking out, we watch as every dog is smiling at us and them don't even move their heads. They will sleep, with a full belly, and a false sense of security.

As we walk out of the doomed dog room, my buddy and I go to the cat room.

We take our box, and put the very friendly kittens and pregnant cats in our box.

The shelter doesn't keep tabs on the cats, like they do the dogs.

As I hand pick which cats are going to make it out, I feel like I'm playing God, deciding whose going to live and die.

We take the cats into my truck, and put them on blankets in the back.

Usually, as soon as we start to drive away, there are purring cats sitting on our necks or rubbing against us.

My buddy and I take our one way two hour trip to a county that is very

wealthy and they use injection to kill animals.

We go to exclusive neighborhoods, and let one or two cats out at a time.

They don't want to run, they want to stay with us. We shoo them away, which makes me feel sad.

I tell them that these rich people will adopt them, and if worse comes to worse and they do get put down, they will be put down with a painless needle being cradled by a loving veterinarian. After the last cat is free, we drive back to our town.

It's about 5 in the morning now, about two hours until I have to gas my best friends.

I go home, take a shower, take my 4 anti-anxiety pills and drive to work.. I don't eat, I can't eat. It's now time, to put these animals in the gas chamber. I put my ear plugs in, and when I go to the collect the dogs, the dogs are so excited to see me, that they jump up to kiss me and think they are going to play.

I put them in the rolling cage and take them to the gas chamber. They know. They just know. They can smell the death.. They can smell the fear. They start whimpering, the second I put them in the box. The boss tells me to squeeze in as many as I can to save on gas. He watches. He knows I hate him, he knows I hate my job. I do as I'm told. He watches until all the dogs, and cats (thrown in together) are fighting and screaming. The sounds is very muffled to me because of my ear plugs. He walks out, I turn the gas on, and walk out.

I walk out as fast as I can. I walk into the bathroom, and I take a pin and draw blood from my hand. Why? The pain and blood takes my brain off of what I just did.

In 40 minutes, I have to go back and unload the dead animals. I pray that none survived, which happens when I overstuff the chamber. I pull them out with thick gloves, and the smell of carbon monoxide makes me sick. So does the vomit and blood, and all the bowel movements. I pull them out, put them in plastic bags.

They are in heaven now, I tell myself. I then start cleaning up the mess, the mess, that YOU PEOPLE are creating by not spay or neutering your animals. The mess that YOU PEOPLE are creating by not demanding that a vet come in and do this humanely. You ARE THE TAXPAYERS, DEMAND that this practice STOP!

So, don't call me the monster, the devil, the gasser, call the politicians, the shelter directors, and the county people the devil. Heck, call the governor, tell him to make it stop.
As usual, I will take sleeping pills tonight to drown out the screams I heard in the past, before I discovered the ear plugs. I will jump and twitch in my sleep, and I believe I'm starting to hallucinate.

This is my life. Don't judge me. Believe me, I judge myself enough."

Anonymous in North Carolina"

 
This is one of those sad letters written by an "anonymous worker."  I put in quotes because who's to say whether it's from an anonymous worker or an anonymous activist that just wants to be heard.  What I can say is that regardless of who wrote it, this is still happening...in a civilized country.  We're the people who are responsible for this.  Oh no, not you?  Don't you think our tax dollars are used to fund these inhumane, torturous deaths?  We have to change this.  We have to stand up against this cruel act.  We have to contact our legislatures and governors and policy makers and demand our tax money be put to better use.  We have to demand there be punishment for people who habitually surrender animals, who don't spay and neuter, who abandon their animals, or turn them loose when they don't want them anymore.  We have to insist that North Carolina nor America is going to be a place where animals are thrown into a gas chamber to die slowly, in pain, scared, and confused.  Make a difference.

Let me up on my Soapbox

Arizona has passed a bill, that is on its way to the House for vote, that allows doctors to withhold relevant medical information about a woman and her fetus for the purpose of eliminating the desire for an abortion. This includes women whose lives are potentially at risk, women who are carrying an ectopic pregnancy, and just plain women- women who have a say with their bodies, women who have a right to know what is happening to them, women who have the right to chose to live.

Women who chose not to take advantage of preventative measures at the risk of losing their own life expect that right to be given to them; why can't I expect the right to chose to live? At what point does the interest of a potential life overpower the interests of someone who is already living?

Conservatives are literally creating and passing bills that allow doctors to withhold accurate information about a woman's body/prenatal health based on their personal beliefs; and if that woman dies due to the doctor's biased negligence, they are protected by the government from being held accountable. Do they seriously still want us to believe there's no war on women? That may have worked in the 50's, but women are paying attention today.

If you're interested in filling your mind with a little extra knowledge today, read this article about what happens to college sex when you stop subsidizing birth control.