Grigory Lukin.com

At some point after waterboarding me at a Greek Orthodox baptism ceremony, my parents had the bright idea to take me on a trip to the countryside to show me what that whole “nature” thing was about. It was there that I saw a cow for the very first time in my life. A giant, horned, foul monster surrounded by clouds upon clouds of flies. Unaware of the sheer horror – nay, terror! – that gripped my tiny 3-year-old heart, my parents pushed me closer to that vile monster and said, “See, this is where milk comes from!” It was on that day that I declared a boycott on all milk, as well as vanilla-tasting dairy products. My parents made a valiant effort to change my mind and explain that cows are our friends, but by that point it was far too late. The damage had been done and my mind was made up…

Seeing as now, 23 years later, I’m 6’2″ and have never broken a single bone, I’m pretty sure the whole “milk is good for you” thing is a damn dirty lie perpetuated by the Big Dairy. *shakes fist at the Dairy-Industrial Complex*

Madness.

If I try really hard, I may understand the mental processes of people who shoot their coworkers or movie fans. This, however, is just madness. Psychos across the country trying to one-up one another; the most fundamental human rules (protect the little ones) being blatantly, arrogantly disregarded. I am an atheist, so please forgive the irony when I ask this, but is nothing sacred anymore?

Is this the beginning of the end for this country? Or did we miss it? Did the end begin years ago, when no one was looking? Is it too late, and are we surely and inevitably approaching the final destination, beyond whatever hope for redemption we may have had?

Sometimes I daydream about migrating once again and moving to another country. Someplace cheaper, friendlier, safer. Today’s events may be the motivation I need to start turning those daydreams into plans. There is no safety here. Only madness.

Have I ever mentioned that I’m a pedophobe? Those little buggers freak me out. Anatomically, they look like miniature adults. Mentally, however, they’re not even close. They can run around, hit their head on a desk, cry about it – and then do the exact same thing five minutes later! There is no spark of reason, no sentience or sapience (or whatever you want to call it) until they’re seven, or 10, or never, in some particularly bad cases. That scares the hell out of me – those tiny humans who behave so unhumanlike, all action and no reason. And before you ask – yes, I used to be a kid myself; no, I don’t relish the experience.

This is only one out of many reasons why I choose to be child-free. If, due to some bizarre development, I decide I want to have children after all, I’ll just host a high school exchange student from another country. I figure living with a teenager for several months should cure me of any and all obsession with having kids.

(Another reason is the fact that I grew up next to a malfunctioning nuclear power plant. My DNA has more glitches than the beta version of Windows-95, which makes procreation a spectacularly bad idea.)