Something doesn't sit right with me when I hear an argument of this type. I can't put it into words but it feels like bullshit.
>That's great that YOU teach your kid about sex, but not every parent does, or does it right. So that's why we have to teach it in school.
And not this one specifically, but the format of argument.
>it's important to teach you child about gay sex
Canada pls
It's the implication that because some people are dumbasses, we all have to suffer. Like an inverse tall-poppy allegory.
Those kids arent going to fuck dogs without coaching leaf
No shit right. The faulty content just sails over the heads of people think that all that matters is kids who don't have something taught to them that I teach my kids, and that that gives them license to teach them something preposterous in the name of inclusion.
teachers (the state) deserve more control over the children, because the breeders (parents) can't be trusted. we can no longer stick to reading, writing, and arithmetic, we also have to teach cultural, political, and theological atheism as well. u mad breeder faggts? make ur own country loloroflXDDD
I'd have no problem if what was taught in school was what I taught my kids. But that's not an argument i suppose. Since dog fuckers would have no problem with their kids learning about canine anal for the same reason.
I didn't even get a straight sex talk from my parents. We just called each other faggots, and that was enough education about gay sex for pretty much everybody.
I didn't get a sex talk. I never got an abstinence only program from church life either. I learned everything from friends. Including all about faggotry etc...
Yeah same. I got the talk by proxy from my friends. About the most I can credit school with was reminding us about STDs and what means of contraception were effective. Also, being the loser that I am, it was instructive to get a condom in my bag of freshman treats when I went to college.
Being from Illinois, we all suffer from that concept due to Chicago. It should be the first city/state imo
Else begins to have plenty of sweets.
Hans asks from where they are coming.
“I have got them from a strange man. But don’t tell mother! The man strictly forbade me to do so!”
Hans is curious. They arrange to go together. The “man” wants them to go with him.
Hans hesitates — Hans thought:
“What does the man want of us? Why should we go with him?”
Suddenly a great fear comes over him.
“You are a Jew!” he cries and seizing his sister, runs off as fast as his legs will carry him. At the corner of the street he meets a policeman. Quickly Hans tells his story. The policeman gets on his motor-bike and soon overtakes the strange man. He handcuffs him and takes him to prison.
At home, subsequently, there is great rejoicing. The police praise Hans for being a brave lad. His mother gives him a large piece of chocolate while teaching him the following saying:
“A devil goes through the land,
The Jew he is, known to us all
As murderer of the peoples and polluter of the races,
The terror of children in every country!
He wants to ruin the youth.
He wants all peoples to die.
Have nothing to do with a Jew
Then you’ll be happy and gay!”
Things are lively in Mr. Birkmann’s 7th grade boys’ class today. The teacher is talking about the Jews. Mr. Birkmann has drawn pictures of Jews on the blackboard. The boys are fascinated. Even the laziest of them, “Emil the Snorer,” is paying attention, not sleeping, as he so often does during other subjects. Mr. Birkmann is a good teacher. All the children like him. They are happiest when he talks about the Jews. Mr. Birkmann can do that well. He learned about the Jews from life. He knows how to put it in gripping terms such that the favorite hour of the day is the “Jewish hour.” Mr. Birkmann looks at the clock.
“It is noon,” he says. “We should summarize what we have learned in the past hour. What have we talked about?”
All the children raise their hands. The teacher calls on Karl Scholz, a small lad in the front row. “We have talked about how to recognize the Jews.”
“Good. Say more!”
Little Karl reaches for the pointer, steps up to the board and points at the drawings.
“One can most easily tell a Jew by his nose. The Jewish nose is bent at its point. It looks like the number six. We call it the 'Jewish six.' Many Gentiles also have bent noses. But their noses bend upwards, not downwards. Such a nose is a hook nose or an eagle nose. It is not at all like a Jewish nose.”
“Right!” says the teacher. “But the nose is not the only way to recognize a Jew...”
The boy goes on. “One can also recognize a Jew by his lips. His lips are usually puffy. The lower lip often protrudes. The eyes are different too. The eyelids are mostly thicker and more fleshy than ours. The Jewish look is wary and piercing. One can tell from his eyes that he is a deceitful person.”
The teacher calls on another lad. He is Fritz Müller, and is the best in the class. He goes to the board and says:
“Jews are usually small to mid-sized. They have short legs. Their arms are often very short too. Many Jews are bow-legged and flat-footed. They often have a low, slanting forehead, a receding forehead. Many criminals have such a receding forehead. The Jews are criminals too. Their hair is usually dark and often curly like a Negro’s. Their ears are very large, and they look like the handles of a coffee cup.”
The teacher turns to the students.
“Pay attention, children. Why does Fritz always say ‘many Jews have bow legs’, or ‘they often have receding foreheads,’ or ‘their hair is usually dark’?”
Heinrich Schmidt, a large, strong boy in the last row speaks.
“Every Jew does not have these characteristics. Some do not have a proper Jewish nose, but real Jewish ears. Some do not have flat feet, but real Jewish eyes. Some Jews cannot be recognized at first glance. There are even some Jews with blond hair. If we want to be sure to recognize Jews, we must look carefully. But when one looks carefully, one can always tell it is a Jew.”
“Very good,” the teacher says. “And now tell me about other ways to tell Jews from Gentiles. Richard, come up here!”
Richard Krause, a smiling blond lad, goes to the board. He says: “One can recognize a Jew from his movements and behavior. The Jew moves his head back and forth. His gait is shuffling and unsteady. The Jew moves his hands when he talks. He “jabbers.” His voice is often odd. He talks through his nose. Jews often have an unpleasant sweetish odor. If you have a good nose, you can smell the Jews.”
The teacher is satisfied.
“That how it is, kids. You have paid attention! If you pay attention outside school and keep your eyes open, you won’t be fooled by the Jews.”
I knew that many fairy tales and oral traditions taught children of the dangers in the world. Most parents in the west don't teach their kids about many dangers anymore. Jews were formally taught about in schools in the past in this fashion? How far back is that?
This is why you read to your children. Based mom read to me every night.
No arguments here. I've read to both my kids since they were babies.
sexual education should not exist, it is totally degenerate; nobody needs to learn how to procreate
Based mom read me things like Aesop, Grimm, Mark Twain, even Ovid. Never the bible or anything, but one of the two interesting parts of being bored in church were the readings.
To be honest, my kids mentally reject select teachings in school automatically. Watching my daughter discover the tolerance paradox after getting bullshit 'unlearn' poster assignments in school was very refreshing. Seeing her submit a pro-christianity poster... priceless.
I went to a less conformist school than average, but I pretty reliably got good marks on my essays when I just decided the teacher or some other student or whatever we had to read was full of shit and unloaded on it.
Children have the best bullshit detectors.
I find Twain hard to read aloud.
Mine taught me to read. Teachers weren't happy I was teaching the ABC song.
I learned about sex the way one should, by comparing notes with other college freshmen.
Look up "The adventures of Tom Sawyer" on jewtube. Both that and Huck Finn are on audiobook there. That will be all, nigger Jim.
I think you kind of have to be a dick about it. Twain was a master troll, really. I had to read allowed in English class a lot, which I absolutely hated, but the main secret for me was this.
Speak in you own voice outside of the quotes. But inside of the quotes, adopt the cadence and accent of the character speaking. Twain is really big on differences in language. I found it useful to meet people from other parts of the country to learn more about how they talk (independent talk radio is great for this as well.)
I'm not much of an actor, but I guess I have a small amount of talent as a parrot. Really, the trick is to have fun with it.
Grew up Catholic, so I didn't get a sex talk from my parents, and got some abstinence bs spewed at me in school. I got all my sex ed from the internet, and I turned out okay.
The other thing is that I always hated, from both a young age and old, when people would use baby babble and sing-song talk with children. I hated that. So I never do that with children.
I believe it has good results. I think it's rude and dismissive to talk down to people.
I live in a totally conservative country hamlet, there's one girl across our street who had been obviously troubled for a very long time. She'd constantly have a very unhealthy countenance to her, drawn and grey. She'd cleave to a family behind us, younger, nuclear, dropping in for dinner or to play often instead of staying at home. Clearly looking for familial stability in her life. I met her parents. First thing I noticed was their age. The girl was 10, father was already retired, mother already grey. Must have had her in her late 40's, minimum. Father is drawn and grey too, sad and quiet, a retired Uni. professor. Mother is a complete nut job. The best I could describe her is, warped and absent with zero social skills, completely false demeanour. Instant vibe of stay the fuck away from me. It was clear what this girl was running from and too. Then the girl started to pluck her hair. First no eyebrows, than huge bald patches on her head. Shit was fucked. My girls were told to stay away from those parents. Soon the girl withdrew from the family behind us, and stopped visiting.
I noticed her old father would often ride his bike slowly and methodically around the town. Same sad face, aimlessly going nowhere, perhaps for exercise, perhaps to escape. This woman he married, there is something so so wrong with her. It's clear she lives in a completely self constructed 'la la land' as my mother would say. I began to wonder, "is this guy trying to avoid his family? Are things as bad as they seem?" That's when I began to have several driving/bike encounters with the father. We seemed to have an uncanny amount of near misses that would translate into devastating accidents for him, in being run over or hit by me driving around town at night. I'd think, "geeze man, watch were you're going, you're gonna get yourself killed." That thought slowly gave way to, "Are you in fact trying to get yourself killed? Do I not know just how bad things are?"
Joyce Carrol Oats, my man.
The girl is in her late teens now. She's the most unhealthy person I've ever seen. Not overweight but still grey and doughy. You guessed it, she's began presenting herself as a boy. He mother joyfully stresses she's not a girl anymore, but a they/them. I want to throttle both those parents. I wonder if one of them abused her when she was younger, I wonder which if that's the case, I absolutely certain the father is going to take his life one day.
I ran into the father of the nuclear family recently out and aboot. We started talking about these things. He is pretty close to the old crazy parents still, and he brought it up that this girl is trying to be a boy and that the mother is nuts about it all. This plain old honest newf is now asking me about this Jordan Peterson fella. I can't wait to see how this story unfolds.
My favourite part about reading narratives to my kids. I always give the narrator my voice, sometimes the main character a plain voice, and all the secondary/tertiary/ancillary characters unique voices. It's so much fun and gets the kids really into it.
One of my favourite modern kids writers is Roald Dahl. He's got all sorts of personality cautionary tales for kids, much in the tradition of old fables. About as based as you're gonna get these days.
I guess I was too young to remember it entirely, but I remember loving James and the Giant Peach. I guess my mother figured I was more advanced than I was, which is not a bad bet.
One day, maybe you'll have to read something at somebody's funeral or give a wedding speech or something. So even if you don't know what you're doing, it's good practice to figure out how you want to deliver it because you have to anyway, and you don't want to shit it up. Twain is great because he captures the regional way of speaking and puts in all these words like Edgar Allen Poe or Shakespear or something, but it's just backwoods the way people talk. Idioms (Idia?) are the best.
Oh this psychotic seeming mother definitely seems jewy. I refuse to believe in coincides anymore, haven't for a few years now.
I was a very angsty teen. One time, my English teacher challenged the class to try to write in somebody else's voice and turn it in. Then we each tried to read somebody else's writing and we all had to try to guess who wrote it.
I busted a few people, but I'm an analytical kind of guy, so mine just sounded like a Joyce Carrol Oats story nobody else had ever read, so I got out of it. The teacher told me she didn't think I could do that, but I guess that's a programmer's mind. That was a really clever class project.
It should be done by the parent and they should at least practice it before they themselves say it. Puberty is already complicated asf with you wanting to try things you dont understand and the fact that its considered the states privielege to teach your kid about sex and life in general is morally wrong. Im passionate because my parents never bothered to discuss this stuff with me and I learned it from outside sources, school and porn. You do not want your kid learning about life from porn.
Ill enjoy seeing this thread on page 10 now
I teach religious instruction to tweeners, deliver sermons from time to time, have emcee'd weddings. I'm very comfortable with my voice, writing style, delivery. I just find old dialect unnatural and thus find myself plodding in unequal measure through it, absolutely destroying any cadence.
I don't have a one weird trick for you, but, as a musician, I have learned that if I practice in private until I find the sounds that I like that it goes off better when I have to perform before a crowd. I have terrible stage fright, but in one of my high school bands, I remember an agreement
>come in on time
>play with conviction
And the other thing is don't practice too much. Practice it a few times over until you can pull it off, and then after that rely on improv skills when the times comes.