Another election period is upon us, which means an endless stream of attack ads, empty promises and commercials about politicians who claim to be just like us but would never cavort with any of us unless it was during an election cycle. But what gets my goat the most is not the election pandering itself but one of the common refrains that just won’t go away. The one that says we’re doing it for the children.

You know the appeal I’m talking about. Someone will go off half cocked (or full cocked, or because someone did something involving a cock), and then state that he or she is doing what he or she is doing “for the children”. What they are really saying is that they’re doing for themselves, but they really need to sound like they’re doing it for a much higher purpose, and what purpose is higher than the generation that is coming up next?

In 1996, Hilary Clinton, who was First Lady at the time, wrote a book called It Takes a Village: And Other Lessons Children Teach Us. During the Bill Clinton Administration, it became a major talking point, and in 1996, H. Clinton went on a nationwide, ten-city book tour where she advocated that it takes a village to raise a child. I won’t get into the quandary that was the fact that H. Clinton really didn’t write this book, as it was actually ghostwritten by Barbara Feinman, but I did want to talk about a fundamental foundation of the book itself, and why it still continues to provide problems for modern day America.

One of the problems I have always had with the book is that it makes a specific claim that it never really backs up. Drawing from a spiritual African folklore idea, the book projects a belief that in order to raise a child in modern society, it requires everyone in the society to participate to make that child better. It also demands that all of the society’s resources be combined to bring forth the best children we can raise. That’s all fine and dandy if you have children, but it also makes a major assumption that a childless adult cares one iota about someone else’s children.

The book’s idea has been used a lot lately in projecting itself in political issues. Whenever there’s a debate about adult values being considered, quite often the argument gets placed back into the nursery sphere, and we’re arguing whether or not children should be subjected to influences they may not be ready for. Examples are music, videogames, television and movies.

Let’s look at those examples a bit. The first example was music, and look at how we’ve handled these issues in our modern day brush with this issue. It should not be surprising that one of the first avenues of contention occurred right about the same time rap music became a mainstream phenomenon. Next thing you knew, we had political commentators all over the country arguing that musicians (rap stars) were advocating all sorts of violence against police and state run institutions. In order to “protect” the children, we had to separate this horrific music from their ears. As such, people like Elizabeth Dole and Tipper Gore started advocating that music needed to be controlled because if it was not, then we might risk the future development of our children. That alliances occurred between such strange bedfellows as Dee Snider of Twisted Sister and John Denver against such actions is a testament to how deranged the attacks were in the first place.

Since then, there have been all sorts of continued attacks on the arts by all sorts of different “for the children” advocates. Computer games are constantly attacked by Jack Thompson, a disbarred Florida attorney, who has continued a Quixotic campaign against videogames that is so futile that he is continuously ridiculed by the Penny Arcade comic strip duo of Tycho and Gabe, even though he continues to threaten to sue them, causing them to humiliate him even further.

I could go on for hours about this sort of stuff, but the point of this post was to emphasize how fallacial the argument is that a village must respond to the needs of the few who advocate it takes a village to raise a child. And that’s where I wish to continue.

You see, the whole “it takes a village” crowd has managed to force itself into the decision-making process of a lot of things that directly affect adults who have nothing to do with children, and that’s just wrong. Part of the reason we formed a society in the first place wasn’t to protect the children, but to protect the adults from each other. As critical as it is that Hobbes, Locke and Rousseau compete against each other for why we formed in the first place, not a single one of them advocates that we formed for the purpose of raising kids but that our formation was for the purpose of how adults interact with each other. Somehow, with this whole “it takes a village” nonsense, we’ve kind of forgotten this.

Because of “it takes a village”, I now have to jump through hoops just to play a videogame. Now, I don’t have too much of a problem with most of the rules, such as having to be of a certain age to play a certain game, but those rules have developed other problems that do directly affect me. Because of these draconian rules for games, it is very possible that some of the games I would like to play aren’t even being carried by specific retailers. Wal Mart doesn’t carry anything that has the NC restrictions, because it figures that if kids can’t buy it, then it’s not worth stocking. But even though we’re talking about games, it should be pointed out that the majority of the customers who buy computer games aren’t kids, but adults. Yet, because of rules that exist because of kids, we’re limited in our selection by what kids would actually be able to buy.

According to the Entertainment Software Association, in a 2008 report, the latest one conducted, the average age of a gamer is 35, and only 25 percent of the player base is 18 or younger. So, we’re creating draconian rules for a small segment of the gaming population, yet 75 percent of the population is an adult who is limited in selection by these rules. To make it even more bizarre, it’s significant to point out that the average age of a purchaser of games is 40. I probably shouldn’t have to make the mention of the significance of that.

The significant assumption of the whole “it takes a village” thing is that everyone in society is required to contribute to the upbringing of a child. That’s relatively new and something that has been forced upon society by some people who I don’t think are revealing the whole story. When politicians use this mantra to get elected, and then turn around and don’t actually do anything that contributes to the upbringing and well-being of children, there’s a real problem here. Think about this. How often do women and children foundations have to struggle against any administration for a pittance of a budget when very adult endeavors get funded nonstop? After the Depression, married women convinced their elected husbands to start up a Women and Children’s Bureau, but once men in office set it up, they did everything possible to unfund it and eventually remove all of its teeth and capabilities. It only took a decade to completely destroy the foundation, and even though there’s a similarly named organization today, it is a shadow of its original purpose and is maintained more as a donations seeker than an actual organization that does the kinds of things it was imagined it would do back in the 1930s.

Which brings me to a very important subject to me: Me. Why should I care about the upbringing of someone else’s children? Because if you think about it, that’s exactly what’s being demanded of me. Sure, I like kids, but that doesn’t mean I want anything to do with them. I’m kind of like the hunter and gatherer guy from the Stone Age period (and not that much more intelligent sometimes). As the hunter in the tribe, my only interaction with little Johnnie is when little Johnnie is learning to become a hunter. Until then, little Johnnie is kept as far away from me as possible. He doesn’t get to go to the grub shop, or the ale house, and if he sees me on the street of our village, he should have been taught to say: “Greetings, good sir, Grokk” and then continue on down the street. He and I have very little interaction together. His father, whoever that is, is the one who actually raises him with his mother. Had I wanted a child, I would have had one, and then it would have been my responsibility.

You see, what I’m getting at is that Hilary Clinton’s book (that was written by someone else) argues that I’m supposed to present my resources and my time to raise her child. I’m sorry, but Chelsea Clinton doesn’t need Duane Gundrum raising her, or having anything to do with raising her. As a matter of fact, as a sidebar of this whole “it takes a village” crap, if I ever show up at Chelsea Clinton’s school to help raise her, the school administrators are probably going to call the police and make sure that I’m no longer allowed within 100 feet of a school, church or Chuck E. Cheese establishment. The point being: I’m only desired as long as I can provide resources. I, personally, am never invited into the rearing process.

So, if you get the point, the “it takes a village” is all about using my resources but doesn’t really want “me” to assist in any way. It’s all just a big shortcut at gathering resources for those who have children, like H. Clinton, and taking them directly from those who do not. That’s all “it takes a village” was really meant to mean. If I was ever invited to assist in the education of the child, it might be different.

The origination of “it takes a village” comes from an African source that actually wanted the village to participate in the raising of a child. The US version of the phrase never advocated for that. We’re really good at using some parts and discarding the parts we don’t like.

That’s why I think our version is really “it takes a village idiot” to raise a child because that’s what I’d have to be in order to participate without being allowed to ever participate in the first place. Like the reason I never got married, I’ve always felt it’s all about money, and I’d rather keep mine where it is.