I’m old enough to remember those vintage movie projectors from K-12, on which our social studies teachers would show us anthropological films about ancient civilizations in Mesopotamia or Central America, where child sacrifice was a normal part of everyday life. There were angry deities to placate, diseases to stave off, bountiful harvests to be reaped. The sacrifice of something greatly valued by those offering it, be it an animal, a virgin, or a child, was the necessary evil for the cost of progress.
In the modern Middle East, little has changed. The ethnic Arabs “Palestinians” waging jihad against Israel have no qualms about sacrificing their children. The late Maryam Mohammad Yousif Farhat was a microcosm of this filicidal mindset. She had several sons, three of whom were killed engaging in terrorist campaigns against Israel. Not that this troubled Maryam much. Indeed, she helped train her teenage son Muhammed to carry out a suicide attack against an Israeli military school. She called the day she sent him off to die "the best day of my life” and, upon receiving news of his death, yelled “Allahu Akbar!” and handed out chocolates to his friends. At the funeral of her third son, she stated, “I have four sons left. I hope they all become martyrs.”
In the West, parents also sacrifice their children. Parents oppose voucher programs, even though they would benefit all schools, including public schools, by forcing them to compete. Parents support adding trillions to our national debt, knowing full well their children will be stuck with the bill. Parents support feel-good green energy initiatives, even if they make the cost of living prohibitively expensive for their children, whose mere existence, I might add, is considered by the eco-cultists to be an offense against the planet. Parents support men masquerading as women dominating and destroying women’s sports and having access to women’s-only areas.
Admittedly, some of these examples reflect hypocrisy rather than an actual willingness to sacrifice one’s child. I’ll concede that many liberal parents simply mouth their yard-sign platitudes, so long as their child is insulated enough from the social remedies they expect others to endure. Hence, their children attend private schools while yours get indoctrinated by slovenly, purple-haired androgynes. Their children dine out and vacation while yours waste away, all masked up, in lockdown. Their children enjoy private security, while your children's police are defunded. Their children live behind gates and walls, while yours endure the criminal repercussions of “no human is illegal.”
But there are true believers, none more evident than those who offer their children unto the current transgender fad (and a fad is precisely what it is) or bring them to drag queen story hours. Volumes of wisdom expounded by those smarter than me have dealt sufficiently with the former, so I’ll use my space to comment on the latter.
If you bring your children to drag queen story hour, there is something wrong with you. Pure and simple. You’re not “opening their minds,” you’re conditioning them to believe that grown men who dress as sexually provocative women and explicitly seek the company of kindergarteners do so from a sense of love and tolerance. You are misleading them to ignore those alarm bells in their heads when those alarm bells should be ringing full blast. In short, you’re acting as the drag queen’s accomplice.
And make no mistake, the drag queens are not there for the unicorns and rainbows. They’re there to groom your children, and to satisfy whatever sick fetishes they harbor. You might object that, in a library room full of parents, the drag queen isn’t actually doing anything physically or sexually to the children. Sure, and if I were, uh, “reading a book” to a room full of Victoria’s Secret angels, I wouldn’t need to physically interact with them to experience some sort of sexual thrill. And if I were an ill-intentioned, manipulative predator, I might fantasize about which one of them is gullible enough to follow me a little bit further down a darker path.
I certainly wouldn’t expect their parents and siblings to believe some drivel about me being there for the diversity outreach. And if I was able to lure a few children in the audience to roll around on the floor with me (as a drag queen did with children at an Oregon library), I would expect to be pulled off and hospitalized by more than a few angry family members.
And the most pathetic part is the negligible return on the sacrifice. The people in ancient civilizations or the modern Islamic world sacrifice their children because they think the gods command it, and that the benefit (a successful harvest, the eradication of infidels, etc.) outweighs the sacrifice. How do American parents benefit from coercing their children to cavort with pedophiles in clown paint? Does it boost their social status? Does it entrench their woke credentials? Is the safety of their children actually worth less to them than the approval of their hipster neighbors?
And at that point, if their children mean that little to them, one has to wonder if they mean anything to them at all. If something as trivial as a few laudatory nods from chinless Bohemians is enough to motivate them to abuse their children, then, verily, they don’t value their children. All those adults in the picture above, smiling and applauding like it’s a Khmer Rouge re-education session as their children are literally being used as propaganda, are not good parents. They are self-centered cowards.
I never understood the appeal of drag, which always struck me as a creepy mix of Comic-Con with John Wayne Gacy. But if consenting adults want to dress in drag, swing on a pole, smear themselves with peanut butter, and wallop each other with ball-peen hammers, have at it. And, to be fair, I’m sure there are plenty of drag queens who understand the immorality of sexualizing children from any angle, be it gay, straight, or whatever, and keep their entertainment in adult venues. But it’s impossible for anyone to keep the child predators out of the school libraries when the kids’ own parents are allowing and encouraging it.
As with everything, all politics is local. Our elected leaders can pass all the laws they want, but that won’t diminish the monstrous egos of parents who use their children as pawns to signal virtue. Social pressure is our most effective weapon. Don’t be the schmuck at the BBQ who meekly “keeps the peace” when another parent starts crowing about letting their kid sit on the lap of a sex offender.
Groups like Mass Resistance pursue FOIA requests on story readers’ criminal backgrounds and document when convicted sexual predators have been allowed near children. Cite these examples. Come prepared to debate. If they attempt to derail you with insipid platitudes about “tolerance,” keep steering it back toward child safety and age appropriateness. Stick to the indisputable evidence. You keep civil, and allow the faux-parent to do the yelling and stammering and the hand-waving and the name-calling. Your logic and demeanor won’t budge them, but it can sway the fence-sitters in your audience. And that’s how tides are turned.
