My God, has it been another week already? Another week, and another deadline. Now I know what the Hebrews must have felt like all those centuries ago, being forced to make bricks without straw. Except that I don’t deserve the onus that has been placed upon me.
Like all journals, I suppose that this one, too, must by necessity descend into the pedestrian. Perhaps, like that filthy Frenchman Montaigne, I may find some profundity to mine from my banal, everyday adventures.
And, since this is an Internet journal, I’ll do the rigueur: I’ll talk about my children. Well, not my children. They belong to my stepsister, Johannah. Ever since she and her shipping magnate husband got divorced, she’s had to take care of little “Albatross 1” and “Albatross 2” all by herself, and she occasionally drops the two of them off with me so that she can go pick up men for anonymous sex.
This past weekend, when she came by with the little things, she was in reverie over the younger one—a girl, I think, but who can tell with the haircuts these days—and its ability to whistle. To whistle! Of all the purposeless, unimpressive parlor tricks to coo over! Needless to say, emboldened by her shrew mother’s ill-advised praise, the child whistled ceaselessly for the entire afternoon and well into the evening. By the time Johannah returned, stinking of mechanic’s grease and latex, I was nearly homicidal.
The headache wasn’t helped by the older child’s insistence on playing my Hi-Fi at the loudest possible volume in order to anesthetize itself. Its mother could have easily told it that alcohol and Dramamine is a much more efficient path to that happy end.
All this got me thinking, though, about what a mongoloid, subhuman race is child. Why do we tolerate these doddering, incontinent savages? We could easily overpower them, as we did the Coolies, with our superior firepower, and because we are, on average, at least double their size.
Children are sapping our resources at an astounding rate, and they even drink the bodily fluids of our women. Are we to be the de facto slaves of a cabal of doughy, doe-eyed toddlers? We’ve set fire to shtetls for lesser crimes!
I see two problems, with a common solution. One, children are an annoyance. Two, there is a lack of food worldwide, and many are starving. With the aim of eliminating both difficulties, I have a proposal that I hope you will find modest: we gather the world’s children together, murder them, and burn their bodies beyond recognition. That way, we won’t have to deal with this dwarfish race anymore, and the food they would have eaten, were they alive, can go to more deserving recipients. Both problems disappear with a simple act of genocide.
Feel free to share your thoughts on this difficult issue with me at chdalton (at) apracticalguidetoracism (dot) com. I look forward to hearing your opinions!
That’s all for this week. Good day, and God speed.
