And Counting?????

November 15, 2011

[Note: This is a re-post from the old blog.]

There’s a show on TLC called 17 Kids And Counting 18 Kids And Counting FUCKING NINETEEN KIDS AND COUNTING. The show follows the Duggar family and their litter of children around as they shop for groceries and discuss why evolution doesn’t make sense. Although “family” seems a less appropriate descriptor than “freak show” or “yet another sign that our society is crumbling to pieces”.

Why do they even call this network The Learning Channel anymore? Unless this show is some cautionary tale for people to learn about the need for birth contro—oh wait, no.  It’s not. It’s just a damn spectacle.  Actually, TLC has a whole shitpile of these “just look at them!” reality shows—polygamists, mall cops,  midgets, and toddler beauty queens.

You have to admire TLC’s commitment to shitty programming. They clearly don’t give a fuck. There is no low to which they won’t sink. TLC is one ratings slip away from doing a whole season on meth-addicted prostitutes and the carny boyfriends who beat them. (If somebody at TLC is reading this, just give me a producer credit on “Tweaker Fair” or whatever you’ll call that show.)

But I digress. Back to the nineteen humans that came out of the same uterus. If it even is a uterus anymore. After that much traffic, it’s probably just a torn, misshapen bag of flesh that resembles a turducken after a wolverine attack.

Here’s a little backstory on the Duggars:

Jim Bob and Michelle Duggar are devout Christians from Arkansas. They work in real estate and feel that the Lord is a blah blah blah NINETEEN KIDS HAVE COME OUT OF THIS WOMAN’S VAGINA.

By tomorrow, there will be a thousand of them.

What kind of narcissm blind religious devotion would make someone go through that kind of torture? What husband says “Yeah, honey. By all means, pop out as many humans onto this deteriorating wasteland of a planet as you can. God knows we can afford it.” And what kind of wife says, “Ooh, can I? Can I be nothing but a sperm receptacle and spend every waking hour caring for children that I barely know?”

At least the Octo-Mom had scary Frankenstein science to help with her litter of monstrosities. The Duggars just have the rhythm method and good old-fashioned ignorance.

Assuming a normal pregnancy term of nine months, Michelle “Flappy Lips” Duggar has endured 171 months of gestation. That’s over fourteen years of being pregnant. Fourteen years of morning sickness, weight gain, sleepless nights, and general discomfort. If you gave that punishment to a convicted felon, you’d be accused of cruel and unusual punishment. You’d be the most villified asshole in America. The ACLU would have letter writing campaigns and candlelight vigils. Russell Crowe would play the felon in an Oscar-winning biopic.

But since they’re married, it’s just love.

—–

I know what you’re thinking.

“But…but…they’re just kind-hearted, devout folk who love children. They’re not hurting anyone. Why are you picking on them?”

Because fuck you, that’s why.

They’re not devout.

Sure, they may read the King Cletus edition of the Bible and ignore evolution and think the earth was created in six days. But the Duggars are definitely sinners. And even the drunkest, most womanizing Bukowski of a deviant would have trouble keeping up with old Ham Wallet and McGee.

These mouth-breathers are making a shit ton of money per episode. I wouldn’t be surprised if they pulled down a half million per year for their “simple life” that happens to be broadcast nationwide on a major cable network. You think that maybe, MAYBE that violates the essence of a spiritual life?

What does The Lord say about pride? Or greed? What’s the specific sin when you parade your unfortunate children in front of the whole world for huge gobs of money?

At the very least, it makes you an asshole. And guess what?

They don’t love children.

Imagine that instead of kids, the Duggars had a house with nineteen cats. Just a writhing, swirling mass of fur and claws and shit. Would you say that person is a cat lover? Or a goddamn lunatic that needs to be locked up and force-fed Klonopin for the next thirty years?

I don’t have any kids. And I usually curse their existence when I’m on an airplane or at the mall. But from what I’ve seen, kids require a lot of damn attention. They’re always peeing on something or fighting or eating things that aren’t food. Most parents have to stay on a DefCon 2 level of awareness with just one kid.

So how do you take care of nineteen of those little weasels? Well, you don’t. It’s impossible. So, instead, you have your older children take over the normal parenting duties—feeding, cleaning, giving general attention. And those kids take care of the next batch. And so on. At best, it’s like a Pyramid scheme. At worst, your house becomes a sequel for Lord Of The Flies.

 

Playtime at the Duggar House

“But…but…they’re not hurting anyone! They’re not!”

Yes, they are. They’re hurting those kids. And you.

You think raising nineteen kids in that kind of crazy-town belief system isn’t a form of abuse? Do you think in this day and age, the world actually needs a brood of like-minded simpletons who think that overpopulation is a GOOD idea?

In three generations, the Duggars will have a bigger population than China. Good luck finding some clean water and cheap rent while Jim Bob III is busy turning your city into a fundamentalist shanty-town.

And guess what. Some of those kids, if not all of them, are going to rebel. Once they get a taste of the outside world and the wonders of modern science, they’ll never go back. And those kids are going to make up for years of oppressive brainwashing and idiocy. They’re going to get tramp stamps and shoot heroin and be total fucking menaces to society. Go ahead. Tell me that’s not going to happen.

But don’t come crying to me when you get curb-stomped by some tattooed neo-Nazi because his mother was too busy mugging for the TV cameras and her eighteen other kids to give him any attention.

All I wanted was a hug, Mom.

 

Wait, this article might already be out of date. Because according to this article that I lazily copied from Wikipedia, this crazy bitch wants MORE kids, despite having serious complications in her last pregnancy. Michelle says:

We would love more! I’m 43, almost 44 this September, I know that my mommy years are probably numbered and I don’t know how many more children God will see fit to give me. The first year for her [daughter Josie,  born three months premature] will be just getting her strong. We are so grateful and thankful for the ones we have so we shall wait and see.

“It is something we’ve been praying about because we do love children. Each child really is a gift and that just doesn’t mean just our children. We asked the Lord to give us a love of children the way He loves children. That is something that we’ve prayed about and we’ll just see what the Lord has in store for our family in the future.”

The Lord? Or a combination of mental illness and basic human biology? That might be a good question to ask, TLC. But that might actually require some guts and intellect and a working knowledge of journalism. It’s probably easier to have your  non-union writers craft a “jes’ folks” narrative about these clods and collect your blood money. Who has time for integrity, anyway?
Learning Channel, my ass.

 

——–

Nov. 2011 Update:

 

Fucking hell, these lunatics are having their TWENTIETH CHILD. This is, of course, after having emergency surgery after delivering the last one.
“That whole mind set that you stop after a problem pregnancy isn’t realistic. You may encounter struggles along the way. You may not have a perfect pregnancy, but each child is a precious gift.”

 

I hate you so much, TLC.
 

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