Wednesday, April 24, 2024

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Raising Boys That Feminists Will Hate

Parent, if you have a young son and you want him to grow up to be a man, then you need to keep him away from pop culture, public school and a lot of Nancy Boy churches.  If metrosexual pop culture, feminized public schools and the effeminate branches of evanjellycalism lay their sissy hands on him, you can kiss his masculinity good-bye—because they will morph him into a dandy. 

Yeah, mom and dad, if . . . if . . . you dare to raise your boy as a classic boy in this castrated epoch, then you’ve got a task that’s more difficult than getting a drunk Ted Kennedy to hit the urinal at Chili’s. 

Get it right, mom and dad—you are rowing against the flotsam and jetsam of Sally River.  I hope you have a sturdy ideological paddle and some serious forearms, because postmodernism is determined to keep your boy and his testosterone at bay.  Yes, they will attempt at every turn to either drill it or drug it out of him.

Parent, if you’re groping for a creedal oar to help you stem the increasingly stem-less effete environment, I’ve got a novel idea:  Howzabout going back to the Bible, in particular the book of Genesis, and see what God the Father created His initial kid to be.  Check this out.

Gen.1.24-28.

Then God said, “Let the earth bring forth the living creature according to its kind: cattle and creeping thing and beast of the earth, each according to its kind”; and it was so.  And God made the beast of the earth according to its kind, cattle according to its kind, and everything that creeps on the earth according to its kind.  And God saw that it was good.  Then God said, “Let Us make man in Our image, according to Our likeness; let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, over the birds of the air, and over the cattle, over all the earth and over every creeping thing that creeps on the earth.”  So God created man in His own image; in the image of God He created him; male and female He created them.  Then God blessed them, and said to them, “Be fruitful and multiply; fill the earth and subdue it; have dominion over the fish of the sea, over the birds of the air, and over every living thing that moves on the earth.

Born to be Wild.

First off, parents, please note that the cradle God created for His firstborn was rough country—a thorny, critter-laden and butt-kicking badland.  God wanted His boy brought up in undomesticated surroundings.  The feral fashioned something in God’s first boy, Adam, that Xbox, the mall and cell phones just couldn’t provide to the charge under His tutelage. 

Yeah, God’s earthy 2IC was directly connected to the Spirit of the Wild.  Adam lived in primitive partnership with untamed beasts, birds, big lizards and monster sharks.  This is the way it was.  And God said, “It is good!”  Imagine that:  good being equated to having no anti-bacterial gel, no bike helmets, no Trans Fatty acids, no poodles, no motorized scooters, no concrete and no Will and Grace.  I know this doesn’t sound like “paradise” for postmodern pantywaists that are immoral, lazy, stupid and fat, but it was God’s—and His primitive son’s—idea of “Yippee Land.” 

So what do we learn from this preliminary little Bible nugget, children?  The lesson is clear:  if you want your boy to step away from the pusillanimous pomo pack, then you might want to get Junior outdoors, beyond the pavement, and let the created order carve its mark into your son. 

I don’t have boys, but I make certain that my two alpha teen-aged females, along with my wife and I, get a regular dose of the irregular wild.  Our lives consist of large quantities of surfing in shark infested waters, biking in the backwoods, workouts on the beach, hunting in the sweltering swamps of the everglades for wild boar, fishing the brimming waters of South Florida and treks into the African bush.  Why do we make the financial commitment and time-laden efforts to get away from the Miami metropolis?  Well, call us weak; but we need it for our souls, our sanity and our spirits in this increasingly plastic place.  The spiritual and ethical moorings that nature affords us cannot be found in the tame and lame wastelands of civilization.

So, take the time—No . . . make the time, parents of the peculiar Y chromosomes—to venture out with your boy . . . away from the city, away from the tidy and predictable . . . and watch what happens to your son as he separates from the prissy and is forced to interface with the primal.  It is magical. 

In the next few weeks I’m going to look at God’s view of what your son was meant to be and do as opposed to what this stupid society is attempting to make him be and do.  Hang with me parents and you’ll see how God hardwired your son to be a wild man, a ruler, a steward, a dragon slayer, a wise man and a son who reflects the grandeur of God and how it is your job to fuel this flame which, by design, burns in your boy’s heart.

Doug Giles

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