awww, babies!

fuck.

who needs them?

okay, y'all. i'm about to do an anti-kid rant. consider yourself warned...

oh, how i love the '...'! what better way to allude to just-slightly-ominous meaning than the ubiquitous '...'? even in a phrase as banal as "talk to you later...", that most plural of punctuation gives it a meaning of vague foreboding. like - will i really talk to you later? just a hint of the unknown. even google can't define '...'.

yes, i've tried.

my apologies, a juicy fruit-sponsored digression...

so. children.

procreation in modern society is a phenomena so devoid of logical justifications it blows the mind! well, at least the mind not fogged with the biological dictates to procreate.

speaking of dictates - juicy fruit's demanding another aside. well, less a demand and more a gently cajoling yet persistant - and at this point, increasingly annoying - "c'mon, dude. tell them what you're listening to. they'll want to know. c'mon. don't you want them to share a fraction of the bliss you're experiencing? don't be greedy, man. c'mon, just tell them..." apparently this'll be a post more about asides and digressions than any real anti-kid tirade.

i'm listening to marc leclair's album, musique pour 3 femmes enceintes. leclair's akufen, for those not in the glitchy know. this album's straight minimal house, unlike his work under akufen. i'm not usually a minimal house kinda guy - simplistic beat structures bore me after a minute or two. but there's a subtle, crunchy noisiness to the atmospheric electronics that keep these tracks sonically intriguing. it's perfect for a night of literary engagement accompanied by background music that doesn't pull you out of your book, but provides aural distraction when your thoughts pull your eyes from the page. nice.

procreation is so obviously concerned only with gene propagation. for the autonomous, sentient person, the procreative drive is almost psychotic. it requires one to cease making their own personal existence a priority. and be happy about it.

well, at least that's what all these new parents are telling us.

but they sure don't look happy. not that they don't have their game face up. but if you look closely you can see a slight tension at the corners of their mouth and a furtive glance in the smiley happy faces of the newly replicated.

and, that's it, man. you're life's over. not only do you not have the time to do anything, you don't have the quiet. sure, they tell us, children become your life and your priority. yeah, i get that. but why?

i kinda like being my priority. it's kinda fun.

yeah, having kids trip that neurotransmitter reinforcement system of endorphins and oxytocin making ya feel all giddy for being a part of this miraculous bonding experience. but heroin can make ya feel all giddy, too, while leading you down the path of personal destruction.

okay. that might've been a tad extreme. the juicy's just having some fun.

uh.

just had a thought. yeah, i know, every once in a while...

i was about to meander on that unrestricted procreation had its purpose in the heyday of humankind development, giving rise to the mass of progressive genetic mutations that modern man has benefited from. then it occurred to me that to deride unrestricted procreation, and even criticize others for succumbing to the tick-tock, was to assume that humankind had reaped all possible benefits of genetic mutation. that the next frontier of development for us is purely intellectual.

what presumption on my part! no one has any clue what the next stage of biological evolution might produce. we could be angels!

well.

huh.

i guess the only thing i can say with any gram of certainty is that kids are definitely not for me.

yeah, no surprise there.

sorry, guys. hope you enjoyed the trip.

if not, then i hope you had a whole lotta juicy...