Young Americans: Court, Fall in Love, Marry, and Have Beautiful Babies
Fight Demographic Collapse, Depression, Anxiety, Loneliness, and Sadness by Experiencing the Miracle of Little Babies
NOTE: After you court, fall in love, marry and have babies young Americans, instruct them in the practical art of civil defense to keep them safe from natural and manmade disasters. The purpose of this American Tactical Civil Defense Substack is to give you the American tactical civil defense skills so you can raise them with those skills. Yes, the world is a hard place, but it is far harder for those without the right skill stack with which to live in it. Below are some links to help parents and grandparents educate your future children about civil defense.
Without Babies There is no Civil Defense
Farmers Markets: Solution to American Food Shortages
God’s Good Nature, Food, and Civil Defense
The Extraordinary Radio Podcasts and Website
The Civil Defense Book by Michael Mabee
On What the Future of Civilization Depends
When State Actors Take Aim at the Power Grid
Active Shooter, Bomb Threat, of Just Rumor
Fight Cybersecurity Vulnerabilities by Writing a Business Continuity and Disaster Recovery Plan
Civil Defense Family Security Hacks
Elon Musk is Right
He has expressed concerns about declining birth rates and the potential consequences of a population collapse. He has stated that "population collapse due to low birth rates is a much bigger risk to civilization than global warming."
As the parent of 10 children, Musk knows whereof he speaks. He believes that low birth rates could lead to a scenario where most countries "dwindle into insignificance" and potentially disappear. He has also criticized those who advocate for population control, calling them "genocidal maniacs" and accusing them of wanting to eliminate humanity.
Elon Musk Warns of Plummeting Birth Rates
“If these trends continue, most countries will dwindle into insignificance. They might completely die out” he has posited. Of famous, dark, depressing, anti-human author Paul Ehrlich, author of The Population Bom that helped create all the annoying hag childless cat ladies and immature, irresponsible, and feminine soy boys, Musk called him a “genocidal maniac” and a “terrible human being” whose “books have done great damage to humanity.”
“I think there is an argument that when a culture loses its religion, it starts to become antinatalist and decline in numbers, potentially disappear,” @ElonMusk said.
Maybe Use Poetry and the other Muses to Court, Fall in Love, and Experience Beautiful Babies
So, young Americans, put down your cell phones. Take a break from social media. It is all fake anyway. Males…stop gaming for millions of hours. Pursue a gal if you’re a guy and pursue a guy if you’re a gal. Remember the old saying: a boy chases a girl until he is captured by the girl.
Here is a poem I wrote to my sons (Josh and Eamon of Billy and the Curley Brothers) when they were 13 and 3 years old. Josh is married to a beautiful women and they have two beautiful children, one a baby. Eamon is still looking. Back then, I wanted to convey to them the wonder of the marrying the right woman, as I did, and so wrote The Kind of Woman to Marry. It has been published multiple times, so I guess it struck a nerve.
I have written hundreds of poems about my wife over the past 39 years. I will be posting a few of them in hopes they spark some young Americans to court, fall in love, marry, and co-create beautiful babies.
The Kind of Woman to Marry
November 13, 1998
Dear Josh and Eamon,
We didn’t go to the islands or Paris on our honeymoon.
We went to Cape May, NJ, where the proprietor of a B&B refused us shelter because we arrived at 3 a.m. after an all-night drive.
That first night we slept on the beach by the nun’s convent near the lighthouse. It was freezing and my new bride, your mother and I, clung to each other for warmth.
Since that night, many others have slammed doors in our faces. Always, we’ve clung to each other near the outgoing tide and laughed with each sunrise after the cold, harsh night.
So, marry a woman like that
One like your mother
One who shelters you
From the cold and dark
Both human and nature.
Love,
Dad
Long before that poem came to me, I wrote one called “My True Home” to my future bride. We had been going to her family orchard for months to introduce me to her family. A farm, orchard, or rancher family is difficult to win over. They are tight. Very, very, tight, and they don’t cotton to outsiders, especially ones who want to marry into their clan.
My father-in-law was a devout Methodist who did not care for an Irish Catholic marrying his daughter. The first Christmas there, I spent 7 hours repairing fence posts. When I told my fiancé at the time, “You know, in our family we exchange gifts and eat a great dinner on Christmas,” she was quick to say, “Well, the work has to get done.”
This is just to say there will be differences and bumps along the road during your courtship. In my case, I began to shoot the groundhogs and that eat the roots on the newly planted trees and dig enough holes that tractors can be overturned or break an axle. I figured out how to win over what I hoped would be my future father in law.
He was raised on a farm in Littlestown, Pennsylvania on the Mason-Dixon Line where he “woke up in Pennsylvania, ate breakfast in Maryland, and paid taxes to both,” was a Marine in the Pacific Theater in WWII, and did not like bullshit people.
So, figuring out a strategy for how I could get on his good side, I began to hunt down the groundhogs on his orchard as he was too busy pruning, irrigating, fertilizing, picking, selling fruit at the markets and to those who showed up at the orchard, repairing tractors, and doing the hundred other tasks a successful American orchard requires of a man.
He began to like me as I was useful to him and his orchard business. We began to talk and laugh. And when I asked for his daughters hand in marriage, he was happy to grant his blessing.
So, at that time, I wrote a poem called “My True Home” to my wife. She must have liked it because she framed it and it still hangs in our living room.
My True Home
Just
this morning
I awoke
so in love with you
that inside
a cloud burst
to lift me high
above city lights
over highways
and country roads
to an oak cabin
in the woods
where
by a fire
of apple and peach tree
I laid my head
against your lap
and found
there
my true home.
Kenny Ruggles Sr., her father, was good enough to give me her hand and provided inspiration, love, and hard work to me and my wife and children. I would like to include a poem I wrote about him called, “The Fruit of the Orchard.”
The Fruit of the Orchard
In winter, these trees are not dead.
Their strength lies buried,
Ready to burst through when next needed,
Like humans in the face of disaster
Who rely on spirit to transcend
Material barriers and weakness
To make the transition
From this world
To the Spirit world
Across our artificial divide.
In spring, the earth moves below.
Nutrients flow into underground water
To be leached by root hairs
Into the trunks of the apple trees
That bring them up through heartwood
To the baby-like hunger of the branches.
The sun delivers its warmth and energy
While the moon pulls the water forth.
Buds explode into flowers those bees
Visit to suck sweet flowing nectar
Back to their queen in the hive.
Flowers become small apples
In this season of tectonic rebirth.
In summer, the Orchard Man steps forth mMore strongly.
Like a general, he summons his wife and sons
For their wise counsel, in-gathers family, and friends,
Marshals’ tractors, machinery and tools.
Also like a general, he feels
The enemy's approach long before
Dust appears on the horizon.
He works to prepare for the opening skirmishes
While dreading the battles that follow.
He squints at the sky and knows it is time.
He musters his people, machines, and knowledge
To fight off the most ancient enemies of man:
Drought, pestilence, disease, insects, ignorance.
The Orchard Man has seen the fury of war
In the Pacific in World War II as a Marine.
He knows this will be like all the other wars,
And, therefore, fears the expected surprise.
Too much water, too little water,
Too much sun, not enough sun,
Insects and brown rot, hailstorms, and lightning,
Floods and drought ¾nature's arsenal is endless.
He looks at the sky again and curses the weather.
He stands alone and shakes his fist at a cloudless sky.
In fall, each row a cathedral of trees gleams light;
Light of pink flowing through the rose windows
Of the golden delicious apple trees,
Bowed branch nave to the altar
The trees yield their fruit
The way God gives us children
By the unity of seed, spirit,
And organic material blending
Over myriad and passing seasons,
Through storms that assault and cleanse:
And animals that eat buds and branches
Until the Fall comes and the trees
Form this cathedral of blinding light
And these trees are alive,
These trees want to be handled tenderly,
These trees demand careful, loving,
Selfish love before they yield their fruit.
The hands that love these trees
Know how to stroke each twig and branch
Tenderly to yield all its fruit
Until the storage bins are heavy
And full and luscious with sweet fruit,
And the full harvest brings full measure.
In Harvest, the feast is set before
The Orchard family's spare table.
The families of apples' dance
A ballet of sweet nourishment:
Applesauce sweet rich from the golden
And Johnnies and Grannies fill the bowl.
Honey-colored apple juice is poured.
The new baby is fed diced York's,
Cinnamon and sugar explode on her tongue
And the fruits of labor, human and divine,
In that very feeding from father to daughter
And from mother to son, ensure again,
The continuance of the Eternal Plan.
Young Americans: court, fall in love, have babies, and experience the miracle of family love. Learn the poetry, music, and miracles that happen in families. As my father Harry Leo Curley said to us growing up, “When they lower your body into the earth, look up! See those people? They love you and care about you. They are your family. Always keep them first. People will come and go, but family will always be there. And always be there for them.”
"And always be there for them..." Isn't that what agape is all about, the love of God expressed through us to our family and our friends?
Who knew being a square would be so counter-cultural.