We must be so blessed to find that most people would like to say they aborted their children. Yeah, I think the IQ has suddenly dropped for CCSEATER2. Fetus is greek for BABY. Does planned parenthood want you to know other slight's of hand? They will be out of a job and you will be sad because you or your girlfriend can not go and kill another baby. Who are you to tell someone to kill their baby? It's similar to someone saying "kill joe" or "kill . . . . (whatever your name is)" You, of all people, don't know what you are talking about. My wife has patient after patient come into her office that are "post-abortion". She works at a university clinic, by the way. The attitudes of these "kids"(Their lack of good decision making has shown their immaturity) is very selfish. They tend to not care about the provider or the nurses who are there to help them deal with their own health. Many of these kids have been seen more than once by my wife about multiple abortions. Did I mention that my own wife is with child also? So these kids come in and say I aborted at such and such weeks...the same week that my wife is in at that time...and my wife wonders....how can anyone abort a child who can hear, kick, pump it's own blood, and respond to light?
The answer is that the one getting the abortion decides when the child becomes a child. It's sad. Considering that in the future, if they are able to have a baby, they will be at the same term as the aborted baby and will consider it "real" and "their baby" this time because they want to keep it. I know that if my child were "killed" due to an act of created violence toward my wife, I may kill them. I love my unborn child already more than these selfish people love their lives. When you love your life that much it becomes an issue of pride. How selfish. All of this and it's impossible to adopt a child in the U.S.A. Why? Because you are killing them. If you harm any of these little ones, It would be better for you to have a mill stone put around your neck and to be thrown into the sea than for you to face what will come to you later. If you can tell me who's quote that last line was, then you are at least aware of the depth of battle this is.
The Ur-Text of a Tabloid Age
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And when they do, chances are the Enquirer will find a way to catch them in the act. Indeed, the Edwards scandal was reminiscent of the Enquirer's undoing of another handsome and charismatic young politician, Gary Hart. Like Edwards, who denounced the Enquirer's first reports of his extramarital activities as "lies, tabloid trash," Hart, too, initially denied the widespread rumors of his womanizing. While the mainstream media debated whether to try to prove him wrong, the Enquirer shelled out $60,000 for a photograph of Hart with his 29-year-old girlfriend, Donna Rice, sitting on his lap aboard the felicitously named yacht Monkey Business. Game over.
The Edwards scandal unfolded more gradually. The Enquirer started working on the story a year ago, after an anonymous tip to its Los Angeles bureau. The tabloid's first report on the affair in October 2007, headlined PRESIDENTIAL CHEATING SCANDAL! ALLEGED AFFAIR COULD WRECK JOHN EDWARDS' CAMPAIGN BID, wasn't exactly cautious. But the Enquirer refrained from naming his mistress or mentioning that she was pregnant until December, when the paper says a team of its reporters who had been staking out Hunter's Ob-Gyn's office for weeks finally managed to get a photograph of her. On July 22, 2008, came the coup de grâce: in the middle of the night, an Enquirer reporter chased Edwards around the lobby of the Beverly Hilton, where Hunter was allegedly staying with her baby. Edwards finally admitted to the affair a few weeks later in an interview with ABC News—though he denied that Hunter's child was his—and the mainstream media piled on.
The tabloid's editor in chief, David Perel, himself a refugee from the journalistic establishment—he started his career at The Washington Post and did a stint as a sports columnist at Gannett before landing at the Enquirer in the early 1990s—has been on a victory lap ever since, with plenty of chest-thumping, Usain Bolt style. Among other things, Perel has questioned the mainstream media's "investigative muscle" and accused it of being "lazy."
He has a point. Even the ombudsman of The New York Times, Clark Hoyt, chided the paper for being too squeamish about the story in a column headlined SOMETIMES THERE'S NEWS IN THE GUTTER. Of course, the Enquirer has at least one clear advantage over the Times and the rest of the mainstream media: its editorial judgment is not, and has never been, clouded by a sense of civic duty. "The big news organizations tell people what they think they should be interested in, whereas we try to give them stories that they are interested in," Perel told me.
There is a simple economic explanation for this simple editorial credo. Unlike most newspapers and magazines, the Enquirer sells very few subscriptions. The lion's share of its revenues are derived not from advertisers—as is the industry norm—but from single copies bought at newsstands. From its inception and throughout its various reincarnations, the Enquirer has always been driven solely and unabashedly by the need to move copies. As such, the tabloid's history serves as an almost unimpeachable barometer of the nation's appetites and obsessions.
The Enquirer as we now know it was born in the 1970s, and flourished amid the nation's growing infatuation with celebrity culture. Gossip had been around ever since the days of Walter Winchell, the first reporter to break the taboo against writing about the private lives of celebrities. But between the rise of television and the appetite for scandal created by Watergate and Chappaquiddick, celebrity gossip now became a thriving industry of its own, complete with a new category of magazines like People and Us.
Week after week, the Enquirer's soaring circulation numbers told the story: there was just no substitute for good celebrity dish. The week of Elvis Presley's death in August 1977, the paper sold a staggering 6.5 million copies—a tally that exceeds today's daily circulation of The New York Times, The Washington Post and The Wall Street Journal, combined—thanks to the instantly iconic front-page photograph of the King in his coffin, taken by a distant teenage cousin and sold to the Enquirer for a relative bargain at $18,000. The Enquirer was now the top-selling nonperishable item in America's supermarkets, outpacing Campbell's chicken soup and Bayer aspirin. To ensure that the scoops continued, Pope filled his newsroom in the sleepy city of Lantana, Fla., with veterans of Britain's tabloid wars.
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