Painful letter details the horrors of abortion and why this listener can no longer remain silent.

May 10, 2022

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Editor's Note: Glenn just purchased the entire 'Roe v. Wade' archive for his historical vault from Linda Coffee, the lawyer who first filed and argued the case. He didn't want the archive to end up in some pro-choice activist's house as a relic of abortion. He wanted to preserve 'Roe v. Wade' as a historical reminder of the sanctity of life and to never repeat the atrocities of 'Roe' ever again.

Glenn also wants to honor YOUR story alongside this historical document. Stories like the one you will read below will be recorded and stored alongside the 'Roe v. Wade' archive. Glenn wants to honor the mothers who were affected by Roe AND the babies who lost their lives to it.

If YOU have a story about abortion, whether you had an abortion and regretted it, or were planning on getting an abortion and decided not to, Glenn wants to hear from you. If you feel inclined, write your story down on paper, and send it to the P.O. box, which you can find HERE. Glenn will preserve your story as an important part of our nation's history.

Read the original story below.

I can no longer relate to the modern pro-choice woman. I don’t want to shout my abortion. I want to pretend it never happened. Up until the SCOTUS leak, I had done a pretty good job of burying my 20-year secret. But the Roe v. Wade information earthquake triggered an eruption. I can no longer pretend to be ambivalent or leave it to blue-check pro-lifers to speak for me. My days of repeating the “safe, legal, and rare” mantra like a good, GenX libertarian feminist are over.

Some pro-abortion activists call their life-ending procedure “self-care,” like they just booked a hot stone massage or a facial at a spa. This is a polite euphemism many women tell themselves – not because we are cold-blooded killers, but because it’s how we survive. We HAVE to lie in order to justify what is actually taking place. Denial is a protective coating, a barrier from the truth. Remember, any woman born after Roe v. Wade has been programmed to believe that abortion is a natural-born right. “It’s legal; therefore it must not be evil. This is a medical procedure. Women do it every day.” Planned Parenthood has a nice way of describing abortion on its website: “A doctor uses a combination of medical tools and a suction device to gently take the pregnancy tissue out of your uterus.” “Gently take the tissue out.” Benign euphemisms that wrap our hearts and minds in a suffocating cocoon. Benign euphemisms to keep us in line.

I was raised in the Bible Belt and to believe that sex before marriage was the gravest of sins. You’d be better off robbing a store by pistol than to be caught fornicating with a boy. And yet I did fornicate with a boy. No boy I’d ever be proud to bring around to my parents. I never gave him the option to talk me out of it. I just demanded he pay half for the procedure and never speak of it again. I told myself it would be easier to survive the hidden shame of the abortion than wear the shame of my sin on my belly for the next nine months.

...the pill I took made an ugly, painful mess, and it didn’t finish the job.

I took the so-called “easy” way out at six weeks along and swallowed a pill I got from some abortionist who gave me the creeps. He was no medical saint like the one portrayed in “The Cider House Rules,” nobly saving women from coat-hanger abortions. The doctor in my story made a quick buck at the expense of terrified “good girls.” Years later I would learn he kept aborted fetuses in buckets and was under investigation for shady medical practices. I couldn’t leave his clinic fast enough, but at least I wouldn’t have to miss work or skip my college classes. I could finish my degree and still make my parents proud. How convenient. But the pill I took made an ugly, painful mess, and it didn’t finish the job. Now I had to see a real obstetrician, get an ultrasound, and deal with the aftermath.

This doctor’s office was nicer. It had bright lights and pink walls. Although my doctor was professional, I still felt the quiet judgment in her voice. I refused to look at the image of my tortured fetus on the screen. I knew what it would mean if I did – my feminist career ambitions would lose the battle to my soul if I looked at that baby. The doctor told me the fetus was still viable but likely mentally damaged. The “kinder” thing to do would be to finish the job at an in-clinic abortion. End the fetus’ suffering and end my own self-torture. I woke up from anesthesia to learn the abortion was complete. It’s over so quickly, but the internal conflict hangs. And hangs.

You find weird ways to cope. Not long after, I discovered an abandoned robin’s egg, still perfectly intact. I wrapped it in a sock and carried it with me for over a decade. If I couldn’t do right by my own child, maybe I could keep this unhatched egg safe. Eventually, I had to come to terms with the fact that the bird egg was dead, and I got therapy. He was a good New York psychologist. Secular, liberal, tolerant. He helped me to forgive myself, but I always knew who I really needed to ask for forgiveness …

It’s easy for a young woman with all those stockpiled eggs in her ovaries to be pro-choice. She can toss away the miracle of life like a rotten banana or a bruised apple because it is easily replaced. It wasn’t until I was forced to confront the mortality of my own fertility that I felt the full force of my regret.

But I do not write this letter to achieve redemption or to be the new face of the pro-life movement. You will not see me pleading with women outside an abortion clinic. You will not see me protesting with a cutesy, homemade sign at the March for Life. You will not see me sparring on Twitter, confronting baby-killers with cold, hard facts. For now, you will not even know my name. I suppose this is not very brave, but my story is not complete and God’s work in me is in an active state. Mine is a modest mission: Maybe if I’m honest about my own wounds, I can help other women like me to heal. Maybe I can love the terrified, knocked-up woman in the Bible Belt who believes the best worst lies our society has ever told, better than any conservative talk show host ever could.

The SCOTUS leak ripped a band-aid off a festering 50-year-old wound.

The SCOTUS leak ripped a band-aid off a festering 50-year-old wound. It’s naive to think we will fix this mess for the unborn overnight and deprogram men and women plugged into 50 years of slick, well-packaged lies. Slavery was legal in the U.S. for over 200 years before we fought a war to end it. And it was another 100 years before we ended state-sanctioned racism.

When it comes to the issue of defending innocent life, I know it’s hard to be patient. This is a clear battle of good vs. evil for many on the right, but you need allies like me – the former “safe, legal, and rare” pro-choicers who are afraid to come out of the shadows. Afraid to become a political prop in the culture wars, but willing to do the quiet missionary work in our back yards.

I hope for the day future progressives look back in horror at today’s progressives fighting to keep abortion on demand. I hope for the day the New York Times publishes the pro-life version of the 1619 Project. Maybe they’ll call it the “1973 Project,” “whose mission is to reframe the country's history by placing the consequences of abortion and the contribution of the pro-life movement at the very center of our national narrative.”

Until that day, I want to help these women to be braver than me. To see beyond their impossible tomorrow. If I had allowed someone the chance to help me be brave, I might not have had the same successful career, but I would have a 20-year-old son or daughter in whom to invest this unexplained overflow in my heart.

What will happen while Glenn is away on vacation?

As many of you now know, Glenn has taken off for a much-deserved, two-week vacation with strict orders not to watch the news. Well, two weeks is a long time in the news world, and a LOT can happen while Glenn is away.

What do you think will happen while Glenn is away? Will Biden take another fall? Will the government finally confess knowledge of alien lifeforms? Let us know what you think below.

Will the Government confirm the existence of aliens?

Is Biden going to fall again?

Will Kamala Harris become president?

Will Hillary Clinton announce her candidacy for president?

Will AI start an uprising?

Will World War III start?

Will Bud Light go out of business?

Will it be confirmed that Fidel Castro is Justin Trudeau's father?

Will California criminalize pianos due to their historic associations with the ivory trade?

Will Joe Biden give a speech where he recounts an encounter with Bigfoot?

How my family's Target boycott is affecting my wife (satire)

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If you've been tuning in this month, you'll know that my family and I have been boycotting Target since they released their problematic Pride collection. We are determined, but boy has it been difficult... particularly on my wife.

I'm not saying that I kept a diary of my wife's Target withdrawals... but I'm not saying that I didn't either.

Here are the "alleged" entries of my family's first week of boycotting Target.

Day 1

My wife began the day optimistic. Determined. She kept saying, "I can do it. I can do it. For the sake of what is right, I can do it."

For a moment there, I thought this boycott was going to be kind of easy. I thought she would bounce into action, and never look back.

At about noon on day one, she started to crack just a little bit. She looked at me and said, "The only jeans that fit me properly are from Target. Where am I going to get my jeans? What will I do without my favorite jeans?"

One weird thing. She has been speaking differently. It's almost like a nervous tick. Random words come out at random times. Day one, I kissed her good night and said, "I love you." She said, "I love Lindt Lindor Milk Chocolate Candy Truffles."

And I think that has something to do with Target, but I'm not really sure.

Day 2

My wife began laughing today... a LOT. But then, abruptly, her laughter broke into a disconcerting grimace that reminded me ever so slightly of a gargoyle.

I tried to remind myself, "This is going to be a good thing. This is going to make a difference," and my wife proceeded to give me a long-winded rant about how Satan tempted Jesus, and how this is my temptation in the desert. Shortly after, I found her reading her Bible in Matthew chapter 4, repeating, "40 days of THIS?!"

She tried to go to Walmart and even made it about 10 feet into the store... but then she sped home and took a shower for 45 minutes.

Day 3

Have you seen The Shining? The way Jack Nicholson slowly becomes unhinged?

It's beginning to feel like that on day three, at the house. Several times, I caught her petting picture frames. When I asked if everything was okay, she said, "I can't find gallery frames for an excellent price anywhere. You know. Think of the frames."

Later, I caught her piling bath bombs onto her side of the bed.

I said, "Honey, what are those for?"

And her answer was a little terrifying. I can't really remember. Only something about the onslaught of a war of sparkles and tiaras. So I don't know what that means.

And I didn't ask.

Day 4

The shakes have begun. Confusion has overtaken her eyes. Every couple of minutes she gasps and looks around, face full of panic.

She cries in agony, "WHERE will I find oversized blouses?" She gasps again, "What if somebody has a birthday? Where am I going to go? Where am I going to go? What if there is a birthday?"

Day 5

Midway through lunch, my wife shrieked, realizing she was only seven decorative pillows away from an empty bed top.

Our day somehow got worse when news broke that Chip and Joanna Gaines had just released their new candle trough.

That was day five.

Day 6

The rations have vanished.

The boycott now has begun to affect the family's food supply. This morning, I asked my wife, "Do we have any milk?

My wife whispered, "Don't you know where the milk comes from? Don't you know where I get the milk?"

I answered, my voice quivering, "Milk? What milk? I don't need any milk!"

She was almost out of Meyers soap and nearly caved when the revelation kicked in that she might have to go to Walmart.

To make matters worse, Target had just released their new Meyers fall scents, including, but not limited to pumpkin spice—and if you don't have pumpkin spice Meyers soap, who are you, really?

Then things really spiraled when she needed to pick up Starbucks honey flat white and some new laundry detergent. For the first time in a long time, this was going to require TWO stops, and let me tell you, those two stops did not make her happy.

At bedtime, she locked herself into the guest bedroom and insisted on being left alone.

Day 7

For the first day, I have a little hope.

The whole thing was awful. Terrible. Miserable. Heartbreaking.

But still not bad enough to make me or any of my friends want to chug down a Bud Light.

Do aliens... EXIST? Or is it a distraction?

Rastan | Getty Images

Yesterday, whistleblower David Charles Grusch, a decorated Air Force veteran claimed the Department of Defense has a secret team aimed at "retrieving non-human origin technical vehicles, call it spacecraft if you will, non-human exotic origin vehicles that have either landed or crashed."

Talk about UFOs and aliens has typically been siloed to the realm of sci-fi and "conspiracy theories." However, in recent years, publicized evidence of UFOs and whistleblowers, like David Grusch, have brought the once fantastical subjects into the mainstream. Could it be that alien life forms do, in fact, exist? Have they already arrived and been kept secret underneath the government's nose? Or could this all be a ruse to distract us from more pressing stories in the news cycle?

We want to hear from YOU! Do YOU think aliens and UFOs are a distraction tactic, or do you think there's truth behind these whistleblowers?

Do you believe the government has intel about UFOs?

Do you believe the government has intel about alien life?

Do you believe the government is hiding this intel from the general public?

Do you believe alien life exists?

Do you think the media is using this story to distract us from other issues?

Remembering D-Day: We are called to the same standard

Universal History Archive / Contributor | Getty Images

79 years ago today, my grandfather jumped out of a plane. He was 17 years old when he joined the 101st Airborne Division, and at the ripe age of 18, he boarded a C-47 aircraft with the rest of his company destined for Normandy. On June 6, 1944, he jumped out of that plane onto Utah Beach, becoming a part of what would become the largest amphibious invasion in military history, Operation Overlord, or, as it's more commonly known, D-Day.

Though only 18, my grandfather was one of the oldest soldiers in his company. He recounted how many, like himself, lied about their age in order to have their shot at fighting for their country. As Omaha Beach veteran Frank Devita recounted:

We were all kids. We were too young to drink. We were too young to vote. And we were too young to die.

And many of them did.

On June 6, 1944, almost 160,000 troops from the United States, the British Commonwealth, and their allies began what would become the ultimate demise of the Third Reich, concluding one of the darkest chapters in human history. 2,500 of these soldiers were American boys who gave the ultimate sacrifice in Normandy, where most of them remain, their bodies never making it back home to the country for which they paid the ultimate price.

2,500 of these soldiers were American boys who gave the ultimate sacrifice in Normandy.

Underwood Archives / Contributor | Getty Images

In an age seemingly devoid of courage and virtue, it is natural to picture these soldiers as the greatest of men. And they were. However, we must remember these exemplars of manhood were boys, young boys, who exhibited the courage and virtue that we so seldom see in those twice their age today.

We must remember these exemplars of manhood were boys.

Remembering D-Day is not only sobering regarding the loss of life and innocence; it's sobering to consider how far our country has strayed from the ideals exemplified by the "greatest generation."

79 years ago, Americans knew what they were fighting for. As a Jewish man born in Berlin, witnessing the rise of fascism and socialism at the expense of individual liberty and the sanctity of life, my grandfather was eager to go back to his birthplace as an American soldier to fight for the fundamental principles of life and liberty that he and his family had been denied in Nazi Germany.

They were some of the lucky individuals who were able to escape—and there's a reason why he and his family chose America as their new homeland. The life and liberty they had been denied in Germany were regarded as sacred in the United States.

Yet, do we still regard these things as sacred?

JEAN-FRANCOIS MONIER / Contributor | Getty Images

Most of the United States still hold that the sanctity of life is contingent upon convenience and circumstance. Economic policies continue to morph closer to the socialism adopted by the rest of the world in the 20th century, penalizing the success and merit that was once tantalizing to immigrants like my grandfather. Moreover, 2020 extinguished any doubt that the freedoms we hold dear are expendable at the whims of our ruling class.

This isn't the same America that provided refuge to my grandfather's family nor is it the same country that he and his brothers-in-arms fought for.

On this anniversary of D-Day, it is important that we remember the sacrifice given by the young American boys, who became the greatest of men, on the beaches of Normandy. However, perhaps it is just as important to remember that we are called to the very same standard as they so powerfully exemplified: to love our country and the principles of life and freedom that stand in stark contrast to much of the onlooking world and to have the courage to defend it, even if it requires the level courage that these young men were called to.

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