Thomas Rain Crowe’s newest book, The End of Eden—which focuses on the loss of personal space, even here in Western North Carolina—has caused me to come down from my mountaintop and reveal my guru-at-large wisdom to the multitudes.
I can sum up and nail the solution to the world’s woes in one word: overpopulation. Do the math: Half as many people equals twice as many resources [available]. Or conversely, two times me-and-you equals half the elbow room.
The beauty of the birth-control solution is that we can start today—or tonight, rather. It’ll be fun! Think of it as a game show: “Hi there, folks. If our next couple is able to slip on a condom, they will win two unspoiled acres of paradise!”
When my wife and I got engaged, after we discovered she was pregnant, we vowed to have only two children, merely replacing ourselves—not increasing the population. And for bonus points, we subsequently adopted three children.
(As an aside, if you right-to-lifers would spend your lives looking out for unwanted children, you would gain a little bit of credence).
Although I am an expert, there is one thing I don’t understand. Why insist on having more than two children, thereby causing more urban sprawl, more pollution, more disease, more war and basically the hastened demise of the planet? Birth control is easier than composting!
My first thought is: religion. If that is your reason for exacerbating the single biggest cause of problems on Earth, then I suppose you follow every other tenet of your Holy Scriptures as well: You don’t wear clothes made of different materials, you faithfully render unto Caesar, and you wash your neighbor’s feet.
The second reason might be that you’re not intelligent enough to realize the consequences of your actions. If that’s so, then I guess someone is reading this to you and stopping along the way to explain that exacerbating is not a form of birth control.
Third most likely reason for creating a hell on Earth that your children are going to hate you for is—I can’t think of a third. So if I can afford the gas, I’ll get back to my mountaintop—if the masses haven’t built a gated subdivision there.
— Joe Hall