Why American mothers are the worst
September 3, 2017
Dear H-,
Someone writing for The New York Times loves being a mother, and that's why their readers hate her. In what's got to be the most healthy and earthy essay they've printed in years, an essay titled Motherhood Isn't Sacrifice, It's Selfishness, Karen Rinaldi, a fertile, competent, happy woman explains how having kids isn't the worst thing to ever happen to a lady — and made a bunch of inferior women go bananas.
Comments ranged from "motherhood is the most difficult job of all!” to “she must be rich!” to saying she was pretentious and elitist. All of which are true, of course — if you don't like your kids or any other kids; if you're completely unaware that coal miners exist and that some people fight wars; if you think money makes mothering easy, or magical, or that handing your children to daycares is normal and healthy; if you're completely out of touch with your biological self, or if you're completely incompetent. In short, it could only be a terrible article to someone who's a terrible woman — bad at reading, breeding, marriage, and even worse at being a mother.
The way many women act these days, you'd think the baby was born with a gun in hand and holding them for ransom. The truth is it's nearly the other way around, and that every baby who's conceived has got a scalpel to its throat. The Spartans, probably the most backward society of people who ever lived, so ugly they made us question whether the invading Persians were actually better*, used to throw their babies in the garbage if the babies looked wimpy. The modern white woman has access to every kind of contraception and finally abortion, yet not only believes that killing a weak baby is somehow more offensive than killing a healthy one, but has a healthy baby and then spends her lifetime telling us how hard it is to have one.
The question is, why? Why go through all the trouble of pregnancy and childbirth to tell us all you have a squealing brat? The answer is that modern women, like their modern counterparts, the video-game playing, bro-raving, useless dicks-on-legs, are as incapable of handling marriage and children as these “men” are at handling politics and women — but children can't write comments for The New York Times, so nobody knows how bad the women have turned out.
People like to say that modern men aren't nearly as good as their grandpas. Now is the time to admit that few women in America are a match for their grandmas. When parents give up, boys don't fall apart alone. We've always had our match, and it's the woman who can't look her baby in the face and feel his fingers wrap around her pinkie and admit up-front the kid is worth the trouble and that she's got it under control. The modern man has no brain. The modern woman has no heart. The Scarecrow is married to the Tin Man.
Our society is inundated with sex and out of touch with biological purpose. We think mouths are for tasting things and not for nourishing, and that genitalia are for feeling things and not for breeding. And these women, so childish that they completely dissociate the fun of sex from the fun of having children, believe that honeymoons are supposed to last forever, that old moms should rival teenagers in sexual appeal, that sterility somehow makes a woman more of a woman, that a kiss from an adoring kid is poor compensation for not working a 9-to-5, that it's better to slave for a random boss than to take care of your own family, that a sizable pension and a nursing home are all you need at the bleak end of your life, that killing your own children should come without emotional consequences or health risks — that motherhood, the raising of a person equally complex as yourself, desiring his own things, dreaming his own dreams, with his own theories and his own virtues and his own vices, beginning totally selfishly and (if you're any good at it) eventually becoming a decent person, is going to be easy; and that one of the main reasons for youth isn't to prepare you for the challenge of raising youths.
No, this weak-kneed and whiny bimbo, living day to day believing simultaneously, somehow, in evolution and the extreme importance of sexuality, yet completely severing the pursuit of happiness from investment in her offspring, can't be any kind of progress, or enlightenment, or female empowerment. She has no pride in her progeny or her ancestry or her country; no joy in waking up and seeing a little version of herself and her lover; no ecstasy in seeing a man she loves and dreaming of someday having his babies. What does she want? Girl's fun. When does she want it? All the time. How does she mother? Badly and sadly.
Thus they envy the strong women, made-up and still fit, pushing strollers and laughing in the marketplace — beautiful not only for their looks but for the fact that they made it; that they have everything and do everything and enjoy everything; that they've kept themselves together and are unbeatable in the face of a challenge and loved by the people who weak women say are “too difficult.” The things so central to our existence and almost inevitable in our lifetimes don't ruin this goddess or wear her out permanently or make her envious of teenagers — the hallmark of a true loser. She enjoys the present more than the past and looks forward to the future. She's made a sexual decision and because she has self-respect she thrives with it. Her husband loves her and other men are jealous of her husband.
This is why the women of The New York Times hate Karen Rinaldi. Because her essay is the living portrait of a strong and earthy and happy woman, and beyond this the kind of woman that every smart and healthy man dreams about marrying. And they. Can’t. Keep. Up.
Yours,
-J
*Why do I say the Spartans are so ugly? Aside from the fact that all their boys were encouraged to steal, and the older men enjoyed molesting the boys, and their married women wore short hair and shaved their heads for their wedding day, and husbands couldn't live with their wives at all, and everybody had to eat the same nasty food, and slavery was the modus operandi, and there could be as many as ten times more slaves than Spartans in a city, and terrorism was used to keep the slaves in line, and Spartans threw living babies in the garbage can, and kids were taken from their parents and raised by the state — aside from these things, I guess they were pretty cool.
So why do people like them so much? First was their good taste for a one-liner. Second was that Spartans were ass-kickers. A combination the American public finds irresistible. So we featured these two things in the movies, hired Lena Headey to play Queen Gorgo, and did the greatest whitewashing act anybody saw since we invented the Noble Savage.
Note: this essay is from the archives — a whole slew of top-notch articles which have been buried by time and recently updated. If you liked this, send me a direct message and ask me for the free ebook.