Opinions, art, debate
Preschoolers with LGBTQ parents or who identify as LGBTQ can’t be shut out of religious preschools that are part of Colorado’s state-funded preschool program, a federal appeals court ruled Tuesday.
Only a total pedo could say the phrase “preschoolers who identify as LGBTQ.”
Terrible, disgusting people.
I will need a vacation to recover from this weekend with its endless to-do list and scheduled events occurring in rapid succession. I have no idea what happened but this whole semester is unusually intense with four trips still to happen and a mountain of work and social obligations.
Next Fall, on the other hand, is my sabbatical, and I’m looking forward to not seeing anybody and not answering any emails for months.
I’ve done barely any reading this weekend, which just goes to show how insane it’s been. But the church picnic went extremely well. My shrimp salad was a big hit, and our family won at bingo 4 times.
How is everybody doing? Any important news? Exciting developments?
In a groundbreaking development for family law in Quebec, a throuple—comprising three men in a polyamorous relationship—has been granted legal adoption of a three-year-old girl from the province’s child protection services. This marks the first instance in Quebec where an all-male polyamorous trio has been recognised as legal parents of a child.
This is very much in tune with what we’ve been discussing here yesterday. If no hard limit is placed on the self-indulgence of adults at the expense of children, this kind of thing begins to mushroom and take ever-uglier proportions.
A human mind recoils in horror when encountering this.
Amy Bradley Is Missing is a documentary about two young people in their twenties who went on a cruise with their parents. One of the adult children, Amy, disappeared during the cruise. She was smoking on the balcony at 5 am after drinking heavily all night. Nobody saw her after that.
In all likelihood, Amy fell into the water and drowned. She was extremely drunk, and the ocean is cruel. But the parents attached to the idea that she was somehow still alive and spent the next 25 years looking for her.
Everybody grieves in their own way, and this would have been fine if the Bradleys didn’t have another child, a son. Their toxic grief cannibalized his life. He’s now nearing fifty, never had children, never had much of a life, and attributes it to his parents’ all-consuming grief that ate up his life.
They turned grief into a hobby, trailing from one TV show to another. I wanted to feel compassion but it was hard because the miserable son whose life had been turned into a footnote to the Amy drama was always lurking in the background.
Some good questions have accumulated, and I’m posting the answers here.
I don’t. And you shouldn’t. Because they aren’t asking for advice. If anybody brings such a situation to you, it’s not because they seek guidance. The only thing they want is to triangulate you into their sexual fetish. I very strongly recommend leaving any such discussion unless you are crystal clear that you want to participate in the game of a psychosexual threesome where your role is that of a voyeur.
We have the St Louis Institute of Psychoanalysis nearby. I’m sure there’s something like this in your town. Go to the website and choose whomever has the face you believe you could trust.
For most people, the best life is in the place where they were born, surrounded by the people and things they’ve always known. While there’s always going to be a minority for whom this is not as necessary or maybe even unadvisable, we should try to organize our shared life in a way that makes this scenario possible for the majority. The nation-state level is not enough. We need to preserve small communities, townships, villages. All with their own flavor, their own local jokes, celebrations, landmarks, and history.
Save for the names, I wouldn’t be able to determine with ease whether the following news item is from today or the book Days of Rage that traces the trajectory of leftist violence in the 1970s:
There is the same tacit understanding that leftists should be allowed to do these things. The same reluctance by the police to do anything. The same indifference of the media
These people only ever get rewarded. For decades, all they’ve got is rewards. Why, then, would they stop?
But again, screens, you know. We went to the library this morning and met Klara’s earliest friend. She’s in a public school, and she and Klara grew apart because they don’t see each other that often. The girl was at the library with her new best friend, a they/them. And with the they/them’s mother whom I do not want anywhere in the vicinity of my child because the reasons behind the they/themness of her 8-year-old are written with glowing neon letters all over her.
So let’s say you avoid screens. How do you avoid all this in actual life? People aren’t even waiting until the poor children enter puberty. They unleash all this on them from the cradle.
At the university event that I’m attending with Klara, our table was placed next to Sex Studies. The entire organizing idea of Sex Studies is that there is no sex, so their table looks like it threw up trans flags.
Thankfully, nobody is approaching them, so they have no opportunity to deliver their promotional speech in front of my child.
Klara’s school had no class on Thursday and Friday.
On Thursday, I took her to work with me in the morning, and then N took over because I had a budget meeting. It’s mega hot, so no outdoor activities are possible. He took her to an entertainment center and the bookstore.
On Friday, we played dolly hotel, cooked together, and then I took her to the library and the kids’ gym. Then we played balloon volleyball. N finished working and joined the dolly hotel festivities.
Today, I have an event at work, so we are going to the farmer’s market, then to my event, and then to the book fair in town. After that, we will come home and clean together. In the evening, we are going to the Y.
Tomorrow we have a visiting priest at church for the Sunday service. Then we have the Fall church picnic. After that, I have my livestream, and N will be entertaining Klara at the trampoline park.
Of course, it would all be easier if we didn’t have to hide indoors from the heat. In the endless summer months that last well into November, we have to come up with indoors activities daily, and that does become daunting.
Those Netflix shows are garbage but they aren’t what’s causing the trouble. Or rather, the reason why they have such an importance to children isn’t that Netflix cunningly ties them to a device. No child with more fun options will choose to stare at screens.
I’m still listening to Days of Rage and it’s making me angry. It turns out that all of this already happened. There was a BLM (called BLA) back in the 1970s. People weren’t allowed to say openly that it was violent and terrible. Everybody had to pretend that running around murdering people was a normal reaction to invented racist abuses. The Left glorified cop killers. NYTimes ran cover for them.
I understand why the Left needs an ever-growing supply of immigrants. It needs a fresh audience to put on the same boring play. That they’ve been singing the same song for fifty years, and we are all sitting here, listening to it, scared to interrupt, it’s a real letdown.
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