A recent article says fertility rates are down in ‘developed countries.’ My quote marks, because that’s just a euphemism for greedy nations. Even if one of those countries is China, supposedly communist. I’ve yet to believe the true spirit of communism has ever been achieved. Those regimes never accomplish a “dictatorship of the proletariat.” They run with the first word & screw the rest, tossing out human rights along the way. 

Some repugnant human behavior needs addressing before any nation could come near Marx’s vision. I think communism needs retooling. Or maybe rebranding, if it’s ever to become attractive to those it would benefit most. Y’know, the actual no-collar working person, which there are way more of than any other group in any nation. Just sayin’. 

There will always be selfish people as long as some children are raised lousy. When forced to share, those individuals get power mad & go all draconian. ‘It takes a village to raise a child,’ as is said. If the village doesn’t step up, the kids aren’t alright. The not-alright kids grow up to be not-alright adults. Now it’s apparent why I’m antisocial. Our society of MYOB extreme individualism coupled with anachronistic 50s lockstep conformity is so past its expiration date it’s grown rank slime. This horse don’t run no more.

I use quaint expressions, I know. There aren’t really political systems currently. That’s window dressing. What we have instead are multinationals, i.e., CORPS, running the show. Just one letter away from human remains. Words matter. In excelsis zombies!

This infertility article was hopeful, to my thinking. I looked into what a sustainable human population for Earth would be: 4 billion. 4!!! We’ve already doubled that figure. The rat cage is too full & the next thing you know it’s the Donner party. Unless mass vegetarianism takes hold, it’s ‘long pig’ for animal protein. Is that red meat, or white? Pretty much a given what demographic/class would be harvested for this. Probably won’t be a free-range option. & organic? Fuggedaboudit!

From a young age I knew I didn’t want to have children. This before I even knew how children got here. Nothing to do with pregnancy or pain of childbirth; more with my place in the family, youngest of 6. My home life surrounded by a horde of older people made me mirror a maturity I didn’t possess. More comfortable around older people, my peers seemed immature. & then there’s the Lord of the Flies types. Those kids are to be steered clear of at all costs. A psychological conundrum: outwardly mature; inwardly naïve. Most likely a Peter Pan complex.

Children can detect I’m secretly fun. They’ve always been drawn to me as if I can fly them to Neverland. I understand it– I’m compelled to play, once my outer reserve is cracked. But I don’t relish letting my inner kid-ness out where any random person can observe it. Plus these days I can’t muster the energy, even though kids are never as boring as adults can be. Alas, as we age, tedium overtakes.

Therefore, most children instinctually like me. Obviously not all, as some children are just as dreary as their parents. I didn’t ask for this quality or try to perpetuate it. I was rarely around children, so it wasn’t something I dwelled on. Yet I did find it odd, since I had zero desire to have any of my own. I guess it’s easier to entertain other people’s children. I can eventually be free of their presence…when I leave or it’s time for them to go home.

As a young teenager I babysat one sister’s kids. I invented a version of hide & seek where I played the part of a beast stalking them. I hammed it up, roaring silly nonsense words & stomping through the house, a merciless tickling if they got caught. This was not the stuff of nightmares, the scaring was purely theatrical. They loved this game & would beg me to play it every time I came over.

One time I did get a rebellious pushback. My niece & nephew formed a united front to oppose getting ready & going to bed, testing me. I countered with “If you’re not gonna do what you’re supposed to, I’m outta here. Good luck being all alone.” I opened the front door & started up the driveway, leaving their incredulous faces to ponder. I didn’t get far before I heard a pleading “Come back! We’ll be good.” Me: 1. Children: 0.

Kids can be wonderfully strange. I know because I was one & I remember. That’s not to say I’m not still strange, but when I was young it was like I lived inside a Dali painting. Or maybe Rousseau. Something dreamlike, surreal. My impressions of the world were fragmentary, adult society’s logic often obscure. I could understand some stuff, the rest was barmy. At this age, I’ve come full circle back to that assessment.

Only twice did I inadvertently scare some kids. The first when walking with a friend, both of us punkish & queer. An uptight mother pulled her gawping little girl out of our path, saying “Stay away from them. Those are bad girls.” Maybe so, but the only thing I was doing that instant was taking a harmless stroll in the park. I may’ve been tripping, but certainly not out to recruit children into my debauchery. As far as I’m concerned, they can find their own drugs.

Then there was the gonzo road trip, circa 1980, a totally Hunter S. Thompson affair. Three friends & I piled into my girlfriend’s car to drive down the coast…with a shit-ton of cocaine. We stopped at practically every rest stop for ‘bump-ups’ since the car’s heater was stuck on & it was summer. Open car windows & powdery substances don’t mix. Also, I wasn’t snorting, but injecting.

So I was in the restroom stall, the last to get high since shooting takes longer to prepare, unaware that my traveling chums had left the restroom altogether. I could hear sounds of people & assumed they were my cohorts. After a hefty dose goes in my arm, I bolt from the stall flying on the rush. Wild-eyed & babbling to my absent friends, clutching a needle in my fist, I practically mow down a mother & young daughter. Their gasping leap backwards drove home how monstrous I appeared in that moment. I was similarly shocked. A deflated “Oh” escaped my stupified mouth.

It’s been said I don’t like children, but I’ve never wished to horrify them. I’d rather strike terror in greedy hearts with the one word that makes them tremble: share!