As I said in a recent Facebook status update, you have to respect the Amish. They're wise and considerate enough to keep their kids away from the rest of society until they've grown up. None of this 'Oh, I've got kids, let me on the plane first' or 'Look at all my kid's pictures on Facebook' nonsense. The act of vain self-replication is bad enough, but people should at least have the decency to spare others from the fruit of their ego.
When I see an exhausted couple struggling to simply get from one place to the next because of the whining inconsiderate little person they've volunteered to create and provide for - the lag of their loins - I thank Jesus, Allah, the Force, the Flying Spaghetti Monster, Buddha, the God of Abraham, Jah, L. Ron Hubard, and Richard Dawkins for not being among those who have begotten children.
For those of you who are unconvinced, let's take a look at the evidence:
1) Children are stupid. They don't know anything. They're illiterate, devoid of any etiquette, inarticulate, and their general knowledge is appalling.
2) They're a tremendous drain on resources. Even if you look past food and clothing, children use up so much of the Earth's precious, finite resources. Oil, precious metals, wood, waxes, and adhesives (and whatever glitter is made from) are all wasted on all sorts of noisy, clunky objects that fall all-too-quickly from a child's fascination.
3) They only think of themselves. Does a child care who else gets the ice cream, or toy, or costume? I once heard of someone who incredulously referred to kids as 'ruthless ethical egoists'. It would be funny if it wasn't demonstrably true.
4) They need constant attention. So, having thrown all your love and hopes into this little creature, it repays you by haplessly walking into danger or sticking their fingers where they risk getting shocked or severed.
5) They grow up to disagree with you. You dedicate time and emotions to their well-being and they resent you for it. Free from nearly all responsibility, they're too inexperienced to see all you've done for them, and how much you've done to keep them safe and healthy.
6) They cost money that you will never get back. Now that you've impregnated or been impregnated by somebody, the cold sting of reality may come blustering through your mind: this kid isn't going to pay for itself. Apart from some gifts the little one may receive, you are going to have to pay for everything he/she needs (and, rather unreasonably, wants). Think thousands. Thousands upon thousands.
7) The Earth doesn't need another human. What contribution are you really making towards the future by having a child? We're resource-eating monsters, especially those of us from the first world, and soon there'll be seven billion of us. You may well want your kid to have a good future, but, at this rate, they'll witness the next generation eat each other.
When I see an exhausted couple struggling to simply get from one place to the next because of the whining inconsiderate little person they've volunteered to create and provide for - the lag of their loins - I thank Jesus, Allah, the Force, the Flying Spaghetti Monster, Buddha, the God of Abraham, Jah, L. Ron Hubard, and Richard Dawkins for not being among those who have begotten children.
For those of you who are unconvinced, let's take a look at the evidence:
1) Children are stupid. They don't know anything. They're illiterate, devoid of any etiquette, inarticulate, and their general knowledge is appalling.
2) They're a tremendous drain on resources. Even if you look past food and clothing, children use up so much of the Earth's precious, finite resources. Oil, precious metals, wood, waxes, and adhesives (and whatever glitter is made from) are all wasted on all sorts of noisy, clunky objects that fall all-too-quickly from a child's fascination.
3) They only think of themselves. Does a child care who else gets the ice cream, or toy, or costume? I once heard of someone who incredulously referred to kids as 'ruthless ethical egoists'. It would be funny if it wasn't demonstrably true.
4) They need constant attention. So, having thrown all your love and hopes into this little creature, it repays you by haplessly walking into danger or sticking their fingers where they risk getting shocked or severed.
5) They grow up to disagree with you. You dedicate time and emotions to their well-being and they resent you for it. Free from nearly all responsibility, they're too inexperienced to see all you've done for them, and how much you've done to keep them safe and healthy.
6) They cost money that you will never get back. Now that you've impregnated or been impregnated by somebody, the cold sting of reality may come blustering through your mind: this kid isn't going to pay for itself. Apart from some gifts the little one may receive, you are going to have to pay for everything he/she needs (and, rather unreasonably, wants). Think thousands. Thousands upon thousands.
7) The Earth doesn't need another human. What contribution are you really making towards the future by having a child? We're resource-eating monsters, especially those of us from the first world, and soon there'll be seven billion of us. You may well want your kid to have a good future, but, at this rate, they'll witness the next generation eat each other.
"You'll change as you get older, Nigel." I hear you say. "You'll soften to the idea of having children." Perhaps. But as I enter the final year of my twenties, I intend to enshrine my youthful wisdom in my person. Many get a tattoo, trying to define themselves on their skin. For many, that may be too radical, but not for me. I intend to go one step further and allow the arrogance of youth to be implemented throughout the rest of my life. How do I intend to do this? Why, by vasectomy of course. Sparing the world another mouth to feed, I shall have my tubes tied before the advent of my fourth decade. The occasion will be marked with a formal ceremony, something akin to a baby shower, but without impending doom of shitty nappies and sleepless nights.
You're all invited of course, when I have a set date (sometime before next April). It may well be after the procedure, so if I don't stand up to greet you, don't take it personally. I don't like to ask for presents, but if you're stuck for ideas, baggy shorts and sarongs would be greatly appreciated. Shoot me an email to RSVP. I look forward to seeing you!
You're all invited of course, when I have a set date (sometime before next April). It may well be after the procedure, so if I don't stand up to greet you, don't take it personally. I don't like to ask for presents, but if you're stuck for ideas, baggy shorts and sarongs would be greatly appreciated. Shoot me an email to RSVP. I look forward to seeing you!
