In 1996, Chris Rock’s Bring The Pain special featured his legendary “Black People vs. Niggas” bit. In it, he says, “A nigga will say some shit like, ‘I take care of my kids!‘ You’re supposed to you dumb motherfucker! What are you talking about? What kind of ignorant shit is that?” As our so-called culture has only devolved since then, let’s examine the white people version of “I take care of my kids!” in the post-To Catch A Predator age:
“I’ve never even touched a kid!”
Fucking… what? Think about that. I’ve heard white men say those exact words through earnest facial expressions. You’ve heard them, too. “Dude I swear I’ve never even thought about touching a kid.” Congratulations on not daydreaming about the only act worse than murder and disc golf. Do you understand how commonplace the act of child molestation has become when the refrain of male decency is “I’ve never even touched a kid”? Such a realization is one of those increasingly common moments when I think to myself, “I don’t want to die today, but I would find it immensely satisfying to know that humanity will be destroyed before sunset.”
I’ve already examined the frustration of living in a land of men that deny the existence of their own testicles. Right along side society’s penile decline, though, child molestation has woven its way so deeply into Americana that these same otherwise deflated men aim their chins upward and proudly proclaim that they have not forcibly inserted their penises into the bodies of human children.
“Listen man, I’m a father, okay? I’m a dad. Three kids. Three of ’em! Pretty confident they’re all mine, too, even though I’ve only successfully ejaculated into my wife one time. Irregardless, not once have I ever even one-stroked my boy or dropped a single digit on either of my baby girls! How many dads you know can say that shit? Even did some substitute teaching at the elementary school and didn’t fuck – nay – did not even fondle one child. Not-a-one! And trust me, there were some opportunities. Wait. That’s not what I meant…”
One generation ago, average men were hunters and mechanics by hobby. They’d work a full day, hunt, kill, dress, and grill a deer for dinner, then rebuild an Oldsmobile engine for dessert. And they’d shut the fuck up about it because it wasn’t considered exceptional. Sure, their old lady might have caught an occasional right hook, but that was okay, too, as the average female jaw was much sturdier in those days. Now men have their oil changed by women that could out-grapple them, get Applebee’s Carside-to-go delivered through the window of their minivan – fully loaded with the vasectomy package, then wind down the evening by waiting for their wives to log off of Ashley Madison so they can quietly jerk off to cuckold porn before surfing to their preferred news media website to post comments about how proud they are of themselves for not fucking their own kids – who, incidentally, are on the other side of the wall live-streaming their pre-lawful genitals on Chat Roulette.
Eight Slovenian college students are huddled around a laptop 4,500 miles away, studying your 13-year-old daughter’s clitoris right now, but – credit where it’s due – you would not recognize that clitoris since incestuous rape is openly frowned upon in your household. Between not raping her and upgrading her to the unlimited data plan, I don’t know who the fuck else could be in contention with you for Father of the Year.
Dudes that announce they’re not kid-touchers probably fuck up their children’s lives just as badly as dudes that do fuck their kids, because the mind-fuck of enduring a childhood under a parent that feels compelled to deliver such an insane vocalization will leave scars that last just as long as those from anal tearing.