I'm terribly sorry that your culture has imposed such low thresholds of permissible cognitive density! I definitely believe that it would be morally horrendous to pass that down to one's offspring.
>I will say only that I have kids, they are lovely, they definitely changed me and I wouldn't trade them for the world. Luckily we weren't deterred by sanctimonious parenting slop.
And again you did not acknowledge their perspectives as sentient beings separate from you. You could've said, they are happy. You could've said, they are doing well. You could've even said, they will never entertain convincing doubts as to whether their particular lives are worth living - which is not the case for you can't imagine how many people who were also the kids of some parents at some point.
But what you said is, they are lovely (external appraisal) and that you wouldn't trade them for the world - a fixed expression with zero meaning and misleading premise. There's no weird either/or situation where "trading one's kids for the world" would be on the table (though I've seen parents sell out their kids for less, or sometimes for nothing at all, with the same air of moral stuperiority that you are here attempting to exude); the purpose of repeating this formulaic phrase is to distract from the understanding that kids are given to the world, and, in return, the world is given to them. If anyone even remembers to tell them that, anyway.
I do admit my biases: I only speak from observation and experience, not from a set of phraseologisms drilled into me during freshman year to make me unable to critically examine how my life choices affect other people.
Hey, that's exactly how I made my first buck! How did you know?
Two of them in fact. I keep that holy $2 banknote on the cork board above my mantelpiece. It's pinned next to my todo list with a gold butterfly pin. Actually I'm lying - that banknote is my todo list.
Anyway, that was yet another really fucked up thing for you to say, broski, considering my entire sector has repeatedly been brought to starvation and used as the world's bank of "artificial intelligence" (first by brain drain, then by outsourcing - once yall realized our people might want to raise families too, what, in your backyard?) before enough smart people slipped through the cracks of the education system to accumulate the corpus of knowledge required for building human-free stochastic parrots.
Think about that the next time you feed your lovely children their mandatory freedom fries.
>definitely psycho
>word salad
>reference from the movie
>owned me
>need a break
I'm terribly sorry that your culture has imposed such low thresholds of permissible cognitive density! I definitely believe that it would be morally horrendous to pass that down to one's offspring.
>I will say only that I have kids, they are lovely, they definitely changed me and I wouldn't trade them for the world. Luckily we weren't deterred by sanctimonious parenting slop.
And again you did not acknowledge their perspectives as sentient beings separate from you. You could've said, they are happy. You could've said, they are doing well. You could've even said, they will never entertain convincing doubts as to whether their particular lives are worth living - which is not the case for you can't imagine how many people who were also the kids of some parents at some point.
But what you said is, they are lovely (external appraisal) and that you wouldn't trade them for the world - a fixed expression with zero meaning and misleading premise. There's no weird either/or situation where "trading one's kids for the world" would be on the table (though I've seen parents sell out their kids for less, or sometimes for nothing at all, with the same air of moral stuperiority that you are here attempting to exude); the purpose of repeating this formulaic phrase is to distract from the understanding that kids are given to the world, and, in return, the world is given to them. If anyone even remembers to tell them that, anyway.
I do admit my biases: I only speak from observation and experience, not from a set of phraseologisms drilled into me during freshman year to make me unable to critically examine how my life choices affect other people.