The Pussification of America’s Youth
Your child is probably not special. They may be special to you, but let’s face it: you’re probably not special either. Our children can grow up to be many things, but they cannot be whatever they want. Stop telling them that. Most of our kids are too ugly to be movie stars, too fat to be astronauts, and not well-connected enough to be president.
There are some extraordinary children out there: athletes, singers, actors, dancers, scientists, mathematicians and Uno Sharks. They can be brave as warriors and noble as kings. But take five average American kids and put ‘em on a playground with a kid from Russia, a kid from China, one from Iran, and two from Cuba, and I assure you our kids will be running back to their parents with black eyes, bloody noses, no lunch money, and all their pussy little trading cards stolen. If we sent ‘em back out there with helmets on, the other kids would just take them off and beat our kids with their own helmets.
We need kids who can kick child molesters in the balls, tell telemarketers to fuck themselves, and ride circles around SUVs on two-wheelers. We need the kind of kids who worked in coal mines during the industrial revolution, the kind of kids who played drums with the cavalry, the kind of kids who made skateboards out of plywood and roller skate wheels.
So let your kid ride without knee pads, curse, play with matches, and swing as high as they can. They might fall. Right on their cute little faces. But if you don’t fall, you’ll never know how high you can go. And I think our kids can go pretty high if we just let them try, and try not to be such pussies about them all the time.
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