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I am an Australian Christian with numerous faults who has written a fictional, based upon fact, novel 'Tomlinson', which traces by reference to historical figures how the western civilisation in which we live has been corrupted to such a degree that Christianity is becoming a spent force, and human life valueless. The book was inspired by the poem 'Tomlinson' written in 1891 by Rudyard Kipling in which Tomlinson dies, is adjudged not good enough for heaven and not bad enough for hell. 


Satan sends Tomlinson back to earth from the gates of hell with these words:

"Get hence, the hearse is at your door—the grim black stallions wait—

"They bear your clay to place to-day. Speed, lest ye come too late!

"Go back to Earth with lip unsealed—go back with open eye,

"And carry my word to the Sons of Men or ever ye come to die:

"That the sin they do by two and two they must pay for one by one,

"And . . . the God you took from a printed book be with you, Tomlinson!"



I have submitted this article to Patriot Realm, which is the only site in Australia (and possibly the entire world) which would have the courage to publish the article on organ harvesting from aborted babies, which was published on 9 August 2021.  The owner of the site Monty, is a worthy successor to the late great Larry Pickering who fearlessly published anti-abortion articles and pictures.

The book has a religious theme in order to comport with Kipling's poem based on Hell (which Kipling himself did not believe in), and whether one subscribes to Christianity or not, it is an inescapable fact that that our western civilisation is based upon Christianity. Stalin recognised this, and in the 1930s initiated the infiltration of the churches, schools and universities with the disastrous results we see today, with widespread acceptance of the evil of abortion.


The book is comprised of sixty-one short chapters, the first twenty-three being fictional by way of introduction, and the remaining thirty-seven being based upon the lives of some of those who helped destroy our Christian Civilisation. The progression to today's permissive godless western society through the last 300 years is described by reference to actual personages, commencing with Voltaire prior to the French Revolution, and continuing with such successors as Jefferson, Robespierre, Marx, Freud, Shaw, Teddy Roosevelt, Lenin, Stalin, Keynes, DH Lawrence, Huxley, Hitler, Mandela and Teddy Kennedy.  The others will probably be unfamiliar to most as they were to me, but were all major players in the destruction of our society.  No reference is made to any living person, as the dead have no standing to sue for defamation.


The book explains the silence of the churches in speaking out against the evil of abortion, and traces, among others, the lives of Margaret Sanger and Marie Stopes, both prominent through their views on eugenics in the development of the evil of abortion as the accepted norm in today's Western society. Stopes was an admirer of Adolf Hitler, even sending him a collection of her poems on the eve of World War II, while Sanger was greatly admired by Hitler, and influenced him.  Both names today are synonymous with abortion.


Abortion was illegal in the United Kingdom until 1968, following which in fulfillment of the words of Vladimir Lenin published in Pravda in 1913, as reported in the book, it was legalised pursuant to The Abortion Act 1967, which received Royal Assent on 22 October 1967, and came into force on 27 April 1968.  This served to "set the ball rolling" in the Western World.


The United States of America followed suit in the 1973 Supreme Court Case of Roe v Wade,in which the Republican appointed Justice Harry Blackmun (referred to in the book) delivered the majority judgment, as referred to in the book.  The issue to be decided was whether the Constitution guaranteed a woman's right to privacy, and supposedly the consequent right to have an abortion.  While admitting that the Constitution does not explicitly mention any right of privacy, and after referring to cases which held that the Constitution included the right to privacy, even though it did not say so explicitly, in a controversial and contrived opinion Justice Blackmun effectively held that the Constitution does include such a right.

This judge-made law opened the floodgates to abortion in the United States, and to Federal funding of Planned Parenthood, despite the Hyde Amendment which limits such funding.


Margaret Sanger Awards were awarded by Planned Parenthood to Justice Harry Blackmun in 1996, Hillary Clinton in 2009 and Nancy Pelosi in 2014. It is little wonder that Planned Parenthood endorsed Joe Biden for President of the United States, who has stated his intention to codify Roe V Wade, thus moving the issue of abortion on demand out of the reach of the Supreme Court. Joe Biden is on record as stating in relation to Roe v Wade:

" It should be the law." said President Biden.

Joe Biden has most recently stated his intention to codify Roe, irrespective of any Supreme Court ruling to the contrary.

Kamala Harris, the Vice President, is unsurprisingly a hard-line supporter of abortion and its instrument of evil Planned Parenthood.


When Roe v Wade is codified by Joe Biden, there will be no room for any further appeals to the Supreme Court, as the principles in Roe will become part of Federal Law, and untold millions of unborn Americans condemned to the dumpster, with many of those dismembered little bodies minus vital organs.


What this picture of tiny Noah displays is the beauty of human life in the womb. In no way was Noah a “clump of tissue,” as the abortion industry would have us believe. He was human. He was perfect and beautiful, and no child like him should ever have to face a death sentence just for existing. 12 weeks.

Leading church dignitaries, ostensibly pro-life politicians and right to life associations globally have refused to have anything to do with the book, which condemns to perdition such pro-abortion luminaries as Nelson Mandela and Teddy Kennedy among a total of thirty-seven, such is the ascendency of cultural Marxism throughout our Western Society, and their unwillingness to offend the left.


It is the view of the writer as portrayed in the book, that the only way to combat the abortion tsunami is to use the Christian approach of yesteryear, which is that anyone who is indirectly or directly a party to the crime of abortion, places their own salvation in jeopardy (whether one believes that or not). I was told by a leading right to life association that it would have nothing to do with the book, as it dealt with religion, albeit fictional.  We can see the zero good such organisations and churches do globally at the moment with such craven policy,as exemplified by the recent legalisation legalising baby murder up until (and even after) the moment of birth in New South Wales and New Zealand.

In New South Wales, at least Archbishop Fisher, Tony Abbott and Barnaby Joyce had the guts to protest outside Parliament House as the evil legislation was being debated.

All versions of the book are available through the website:


For a short period, downloadable copies of the book are available free of charge by clicking the lowest Buy Now button on the web-site.   Hopefully, readers will spread the word.

 Terence Lee - author


Now Tomlinson gave up the ghost at his house in Berkeley Square,
And a Spirit came to his bedside and gripped him by the hair—
A Spirit gripped him by the hair and carried him far away,
Till he heard as the roar of a rain-fed ford the roar of the Milky Way:
Till he heard the roar of the Milky Way die down and drone and cease,
And they came to the Gate within the Wall where Peter holds the keys.
"Stand up, stand up now, Tomlinson, and answer loud and high
"The good that ye did for the sake of men or ever ye came to die—
"The good that ye did for the sake of men on the little Earth so lone!"
And the naked soul of Tomlinson grew white as the rain-washed bone.
"O I have a friend on Earth," he said, "that was my priest and guide, "And well would he answer all for me if he were at my side." —"For that ye strove in neighbour-love it shall be written fair, "But now ye wait at Heaven's Gate and not in Berkeley Square: "Though we called your friend from his bed this night, he could not speak for you, "For the race is run by one and one and never by two and two." Then Tomlinson looked up and down, and little gain was there, For the naked stars grinned overhead, and he saw that his soul was bare. The Wind that blows between the Worlds, it cut him like a knife, And Tomlinson took up the tale and spoke of his good in life. "O this I have read in a book," he said, "and that was told to me, "And this I have thought that another man thought of a Prince in Muscovy."
The good souls flocked like homing doves and bade him clear the path, And Peter twirled the jangling Keys in weariness and wrath. "Ye have read, ye have heard, ye have thought," he said, "and the tale is yet to run: "By the worth of the body that once ye had, give answer—what ha' ye done?" Then Tomlinson looked back and forth, and little good it bore, For the darkness stayed at his shoulder-blade and Heaven's Gate before:— "O this I have felt, and this I have guessed, and this I heard men say, "And this they wrote that another man wrote of a carl in Norroway." "Ye have read, ye have felt, ye have guessed, good lack! Ye have hampered Heaven's Gate; "There's little room between the stars in idleness to prate! "For none may reach by hired speech of neighbour, priest, and kin "Through borrowed deed to God's good meed that lies so fair within; "Get hence, get hence to the Lord of Wrong, for thy doom has yet to run, "And . . . the faith that ye share with Berkeley Square uphold you, Tomlinson!" The Spirit gripped him by the hair, and sun by sun they fell Till they came to the belt of Naughty Stars that rim the mouth of Hell. The first are red with pride and wrath, the next are white with pain, But the third are black with clinkered sin that cannot burn again. They may hold their path, they may leave their path, with never a soul to mark: They may burn or freeze, but they must not cease in the Scorn of the Outer Dark. The Wind that blows between the Worlds, it nipped him to the bone, And he yearned to the flare of Hell-gate there as the light of his own hearth-stone. The Devil he sat behind the bars, where the desperate legions drew, But he caught the hasting Tomlinson and would not let him through. "Wot ye the price of good pit-coal that I must pay?" said he, "That ye rank yoursel' so fit for Hell and ask no leave of me? "I am all o'er-sib to Adam's breed that ye should give me scorn, "For I strove with God for your First Father the day that he was born. "Sit down, sit down upon the slag, and answer loud and high "The harm that ye did to the Sons of Men or ever you came to die."
And Tomlinson looked up and up, and saw against the night The belly of a tortured star blood-red in Hell-Mouth light; And Tomlinson looked down and down, and saw beneath his feet The frontlet of a tortured star milk-white in Hell-Mouth heat. "O I had a love on earth," said he, "that kissed me to my fall; "And if ye would call my love to me I know she would answer all." —"All that ye did in love forbid it shall be written fair, "But now ye wait at Hell-Mouth Gate and not in Berkeley Square: "Though we whistled your love from her bed to-night, I trow she would not run, "For the sin that ye do by two and two ye must pay for one by one!" The Wind that blows between the Worlds, it cut him like a knife, And Tomlinson took up the tale and spoke of his sins in life:— "Once I ha' laughed at the power of Love and twice at the grip of the Grave, "And thrice I ha' patted my God on the head that men might call me brave." The Devil he blew on a brandered soul and laid it aside to cool:— "Do ye think I would waste my good pit-coal on the hide of a brain-sick fool? "I see no worth in the hobnail mirth or the jolthead jest ye did "That I should waken my gentlemen that are sleeping three on a grid."
Then Tomlinson looked back and forth, and there was little grace, For Hell-Gate filled the houseless soul with the Fear of Naked Space. "Nay, this I ha' heard," quo' Tomlinson, "and this was noised abroad, "And this I ha' got from a Belgian book on the word of a dead French lord." —"Ye ha' heard, ye ha' read, ye ha' got, good lack! and the tale begins afresh— "Have ye sinned one sin for the pride o' the eye or the sinful lust of the flesh?" Then Tomlinson he gripped the bars and yammered, "Let me in— "For I mind that I borrowed my neighbour's wife to sin the deadly sin." The Devil he grinned behind the bars, and banked the fires high: "Did ye read of that sin in a book?" said he; and Tomlinson said, "Ay!" The Devil he blew upon his nails, and the little devils ran, And he said: "Go husk this whimpering thief that comes in the guise of a man: "Winnow him out 'twixt star and star, and sieve his proper worth: "There's sore decline in Adam's line if this be spawn of Earth." Empusa's crew, so naked-new they may not face the fire, But weep that they bin too small to sin to the height of their desire, Over the coal they chased the Soul, and racked it all abroad,
As children rifle a caddis-case or the raven's foolish hoard. And back they came with the tattered Thing, as children after play, And they said: "The soul that he got from God he has bartered clean away. "We have threshed a stook of print and book, and winnowed a chattering wind, "And many a soul wherefrom he stole, but his we cannot find. "We have handled him, we have dandled him, we have seared him to the bone, "And, Sire, if tooth and nail show truth he has no soul of his own." The Devil he bowed his head to his breast and rumbled deep and low:— "I'm all o'er-sib to Adam's breed that I should bid him go. "Yet close we lie, and deep we lie, and if I gave him place, "My gentlemen that are so proud would flout me to my face; "They'd call my house a common stews and me a careless host, "And—I would not anger my gentlemen for the sake of a shiftless ghost." The Devil he looked at the mangled Soul that prayed to feel the flame, And he thought of Holy Charity, but he thought of his own good name:— "Now ye could haste my coal to waste, and sit ye down to fry. "Did ye think of that theft for yourself?" said he; and Tomlinson said, "Ay!" The Devil he blew an outward breath, for his heart was free from care:— "Ye have scarce the soul of a louse," he said, "but the roots of sin are there, "And for that sin should ye come in were I the lord alone, "But sinful pride has rule inside—ay, mightier than my own.
"Honour and Wit, fore-damned they sit, to each his Priest and Whore; "Nay, scarce I dare myself go there, and you they'd torture sore. "Ye are neither spirit nor spirk," he said; "ye are neither book nor brute— "Go, get ye back to the flesh again for the sake of Man's repute. "I'm all o'er-sib to Adam's breed that I should mock your pain, "But look that ye win to a worthier sin ere ye come back again. "Get hence, the hearse is at your door—the grim black stallions wait— "They bear your clay to place to-day. Speed, lest ye come too late! "Go back to Earth with lip unsealed—go back with open eye, "And carry my word to the Sons of Men or ever ye come to die: "That the sin they do by two and two they must pay for one by one, "And . . . the God you took from a printed book be with you, Tomlinson!"
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