This week's blog post is by WDP co-host Matt Rocco, who
lives in the Edgewater Glen neighborhood of Chicago with Professor
Foster (his non-white, non-dad wife), and their daughter, Viva, who
is, thank goodness, a girl.
Much ink has been spilled in the past several years about the
crisis facing the boys of America: They're more likely to be
expelled, they lag behind in literacy, and despite preferential
admission, soon only 40 percent of college graduate will be male.
There is also the commonly held belief that they are made of "snips
and snails, and puppy dog tails," and while I haven't a clue what
"snips" are, snails and puppy dog tails are disgusting.
If my wife and I choose to grow our family any more, we face a
terrifying possibility: What if we have another baby ... and it is
As the father of a girl, and as a (graying) boy myself, I have
to look around at the boys I see in playgroups and schools and my
friends' homes and ask myself the painful questions, "Is the long
history of male hegemony over, and what role can males play in a
civilized, technocratic, feminized world?"
The answer to Question One: Yes.
And Question Two: None, because we are dumb.
Males have long held the reins of power in this world because,
since we first crawled out of the primordial ooze, the most useful
skill most animals could hone is the ability to beat their
competition to death with old femur bones in front of black
obelisks. Fight, eat, screw - things most men are at least
interested in, if not good at. Times have changed, and now the
world requires things like rational focus, patience, and rational
thought - areas in which boys are lagging behind.
Look at your male child - ask him to stop running around the
family room in circles with his Minecraft toy for a second - and
look at him! From birth to grade school, he'll be a mewling,
mumbling, rammy mess - behind the girls his age in every measurable
way: height, communicating, behavior, hygiene.
Places that allow children (park districts, schools, restaurants
with Ski-Ball machines) are miserable places and not because of the
girls in their pink high tops and "One Direction" T-shirts, but
because of the screaming, running, fighting boys. Unstoppable
juggernauts of flatulence and karate chops.
And once your son reaches an age where he stops crying every
time Mommy is out of sight, letting snot drip all over his stupid
blue overalls, he becomes a bully and a tyrant. He will drive his
teachers to drink and prevent the girls in the classroom from any
kind of effective learning by singing songs about how "Batman
smells," leaving them to doodle hearts on their Lisa Frank
notebooks and wish they'd gone to Catholic school.
(It is said that "No Child Left Behind" has been especially hard
on boys, because it focuses on things like sitting still, keeping
quiet, listening, and remembering. In other words, it requires
children not to be stupid jerks. Not being a stupid jerk is an
almost impossible task for a boy.)
This continues through college, by which time your son will have
become beer-swilling, Urban Dictionary slang generating machine who
spends most of his time sleeping, shaving other dudes' heads over
dorm sinks, and laughing about "the Schocker" while listening to
Then there is a brief post college period in which, if you're
lucky, your son will behave like a second-rate David Mamet
character: golfing, drinking whiskey infused with the moldy, earthy
funk of burned peat, and going bald.
And after a few years of this stage he will drop dead over a
paper bowl of Caribbean Jerk flavored chicken parts at Buffalo Wild
Wings, leaving his wife to spend the next 50 years attending
matinee performance of Jerry Herman musicals with the other widows.
That's what men are better at than women: dying.
Of course there is no place for boys in modern society, because
the long arc of civilization bends towards justice, and there is no
justice in letting the male gender thrive. You know what I'm
thinking about right now? Your boobs. Well, sometimes I'm running
the G.I. Joe theme song in my head over and over, but most
of the time I'm thinking about your boobs. And I'm one of the good
If the British are to be trusted (and they aren't - these are
the people who forced Russell Brand on us), their scientists have
even come up with a way to grow sperm cells from stem cells,
meaning men are now officially obsolete, unless you need a jar
opened and didn't buy some kind of vice grip off of QVC.
So what's a couple to do when wondering whether or not to
procreate? Pay exorbitant fees to have the male embryos dropped
into the fires of Mount Doom, or knowingly release more boys into
the world - helping society only by stimulating the economy with
more sales of Spider Man pajamas?
I wish I had an answer, but I'm a boy, and I mostly just want to
go outside and jump off the swings.
Boy, Viva Rocco (Age 2),
Marker on White Board, 2014
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