I Like it When Daddy Hits Me

It’s laugh-a-minute around here. The University of New Hampshire has determined that spanking unruly ankle-biters stunts their IQ. This is based on 1500 overgrown sperm who were given an IQ test, then another after four years. Murray says that the study took into account “parental education, income, cognitive stimulation by parents and other factors that could affect children’s mental abilities.” And that, “You can’t say it proves it, but I think it rules out so many other alternatives; I am convinced that spanking does cause a slowdown in a child’s development of mental abilities.” I fucking love studies like this, because they are the sweet, supple love tunnel into which I can pound my eternal rage.

For starters, let’s explain correlation vs causation. For all you dumbasses out there, here are two things that correlate: drinking coffee and eating bagels. One does not cause the other. They just happen to occur at the same time because it’s fucking breakfast time and I’m too hung over for eggs. On the other hand, drinking coffee does incite my infamous cross-species orgies. How do I know? Because the orgy only happens after coffee, coffee always signals an impending orgy, and no other variable exists (like, say, a trip to the petting zoo). This study only shows causation, and can easily be turned on its head to indicate that children with lower IQ scores are assholes that need to have the shit beat out of them. Which is indisputable truth.

Now let’s take a look at their premise: Spanking is traumatic, so it keeps the brain from developing correctly. Children who are spanked don’t learn anything, which further hurts their intelligence. Let me tell you what’s traumatic. Baby rape is traumatic. And Halloween pranks, like murdering an entire family and heckling the lone survivor. And middle school. And we don’t just let kids do without that shit. It builds character. And you know why kids don’t have independent thinking skills? Because their parents fill their heads with intelligent design and abstinence-only and party lines and drugs-are-bad. (m’kay?) They’re told what to eat, wear, believe and do. Their friends are audited by the ‘rents. Their films are censored. Their language is controlled. And everything’s full of fucking MSG. Wonder why the future of America is so goddamned idiotic? They’re bred for it.

But the funniest thing about this whole mug of rectal vomit is that IQ doesn’t mean a fucking thing. It doesn’t make your cock thicker or guarantee a better job. (Isn’t it great to know that the people who pick celery for a living are smarter than the police?) It’s not a superpower, like a laser that cuts through bank vaults and makes you impervious to serrated weapons. It makes you pompous, shallow and boring. Want a better adult? Kick your kid until blood comes out his ears. Then give him some books, the right to disagree with the house standard, and fifteen minutes of alone-time with the cat. Let natural selection weed out the unfit specimens. We don’t need people with magic self-esteem numbers. We need ruthless bastards with firm opinions and open minds. And lubricant. Lots and lots of lubricant.