Learning From the Abuse and Death of Jaxon “Jax” Burnette

Jax Burnette

“If the sound of happy children is grating on your ears, I don’t think it’s the children who need to be adjusted.”
― Stefan Molyneux

They say a picture shows a thousand words and the picture below certainly does when it comes to the horrifying tragedy that is child abuse.

Jaxon “Jax” James Burnette

The death of Jaxon”Jax” Burnette was one of those horrid incidents that transcends much of the current political and cultural climate.  People really – and rightfully so – think child abuse is horrible.  People were worked up.  Groups were created dedicated to getting justice for Jax.  So to that that end Facebook groups, comment sections, and all the rest shrieked in anger.

After that it died out – with a few shrieks here and there.  So in this aftermath we need to do some serious adult talk time among ourselves and ask, “What have we learned?”

Probably not much.  In fact, we will probably see this same story again, people will express their noble outrage, and then it is back to the grind. (I understand, I have a life as well.)

If there’s anything I’ve realized over the last few years, it’s that the desire to burn someone at the stake or throw tomatoes at the criminal in stocks has never gone away – regardless of how educated, enlightened, or progressive we have gotten.

We have this ravenous unquenchable desire – almost on the level that fuels our sex, survival, and hunger drives – to be able to point at “villains” and in the process allow us to feel better about ourselves.

“At least I’m not like that guy!”

We need to shame, pass judgement, and feel above them.  Now in the case of Jaxon, those of us who aren’t abusing children are better than those who are not – at least on a moral level. However if we aren’t careful, we could easily be brought down low to their level.  Most people don’t like the idea of that, so they remain perched in their high moral ivory towers.

They writhe with righteous anger and indignation, call for the abusive parents to be taken out an shot, and spout about how shocked they are that something this terrible could happen.  Almost reminds you of how people change their Facebook profile to flag stripes of whatever country suffered yet another terrorist attack. Then they forget all about it.

It should make you question how much they actually care vs how much they wish to be perceived as people who do in their contrived sermons of indignation.  A dirty little secret is that most people don’t truly care.

 

The Mob Isn’t Really Interested in Preventing Child Abuse

The mob – righteous this time in their outrage – entirely missed the underlying factors which created the situations that led to the horrible tragedy that happened to Jax.  No one wants to attempt to understand what was happening to his parents because they fear it will be misconstrued as excusing their vile behavior.

Most of the tips, hotlines, and advice out there are for AFTER-THE-FACT instead of focusing on early stages. It’s similar on how always focus on “healing” the patient, but never on the preventative care to help avoid the injuries, diseases, or conditions in the first place.

Raising awareness about child abuse is useless if we aren’t doing “real talk” with people close to us who have young kids as well.  Because of the danger of social media shame mobs that could cost you your job and future prospects, no one who is about to snap from the pressure and lack of sleep will reach out for advice.

They don’t want to be shamed, nor admit that it’s much harder then they EVER thought it would be or that they had those horrid thoughts in moments of sleep deprived anguish.  If we can’t talk about it without the worry of someone reporting them to CPS, then many of these stories will repeat.

Something I’m now just finding out is that no matter what you do, kids still cry – especially infants and toddlers. If you’ve done everything possible, just let them be.  You aren’t a bad parent.   Instead of trying to be super hero parents, we need to encourage those around us to take a step back when stressed. If you have to put your screaming infant in a car seat in the bathroom for 15 minutes and turn the fan on, so be it.

That stepping back is key to stopping yourself from starting down the dark path to child abuse. Preventing yourself from getting to that path can’t be understated. Just like in Fargo, you can avoid that final woodchipper death by never getting in bed with devious criminals in the first place.

 

The Tragedies

When our second son Nehemiah was born, the hospital made us watch 3 videos about proper care for your infant before my wife could be released. One thing that came up was the case of Jaxon “Jax” Burnette

In conversation about it, a nurse told us that Missouri – where our second son was born when we lived there – had the most incidents of child abuse.  Sure enough in 2013 alone, there were over 61,000 reported cases in Missouri of which 31 died.  Most of the children were all under 4 years old – which is the stage where the most work, patience, and energy is required by parents.

(Note this is not a dig at “Fly-over country” or anyone from the South in particular.  The child abuse epidemic is widespread.) 

Dig back and harrowing stories pop up. Tons of other cases of shocking child abuse.  I’m not talking about spanking a tantrum raging 5 year old or a mother slapping a disrespectful teen, I’m referring to REAL child abuse. Story after story. Some of the ones listed below were the ones that stood out most to me.

  • A 10 year old girl down to 32 pounds, locked into a closet wallowing in her own excrement in a modern day vicious twist on Cinderella. In contrast,  her two sisters were well fed and cared for.
  • A mom beats her 17 month old girl to death and tries to pass it off as death from a spider bite. The terrible bruises around the neck, face, and the rest of the body would undermine her story to the point the police chief said it looked the girl had been in a car accident.
  • In Springfield MO – where me and my wife currently live – a 7 year old boy and 2 year old girl were starved, beaten, tied to chairs, and thrown down stairs. “The toddler was so malnourished, hair was falling out. She had scratches and cuts all over her body. Her feet swollen causing her toes to turn blue.”    How did it get that far?
  • A 37 year old woman sodomizes and rapes a two old boy, while having her boyfriend video tape it.  Obviously this goes way beyond physical child abuse.  The boy will be scarred deeply for life.
  • A 17 year old babysitter burned a 8 month old baby girl with a curling iron. Blisters were on her head, bottom of her feet, and all over her legs. To top it off, the babysitter then said the mom burned the baby girl further with the iron to shut her up.

What do all these cases have in common when you read through them?  How did they ever get to this point? 

“SCREW CHILDREN! That’s the mantra of the world. Instead of burying them with a national debt, shoving them in shitty schools, drugging them if they don’t comply, hitting them, yelling at them, indoctrinating them with religion and statism and patriotism and military worship, what if we just did what was right for them? The whole world is built on “screw children”, and if we changed that, this would be an alien planet to us.” – Stefan Molyneux

A lack of patience, self control, and selfishness.  

Unfortunately, the millennial generation in particular – of which I am a member – is often too busy or consider our futures to unpredictable and unstable to have kids. Some still end up remaining a burden, even after they grow out of their infant stage – an indictment of our selfish culture that excuses it’s loathing for children by contrived hysterics about not throwing more money into education.  (The home environment, not their school is where stability must be established.)

Still, despite various precautions babies happen planned or not.  Thing is they either are born to parents often just one parent these days who don’t really want them, don’t want to adapt their lifestyle for them, or can’t be bothered to have the patience that those first few years of a child’s life demand in high volumes.

So what do we do about it besides shrieking and going back to our normal lives later?

Step Out Of The Shadows

We need to encourage those who are struggling as first-time parents without support to come out of the shadows and to open up.  People will always judge, but plenty of us have or are still in the shoes of those who are new parents that are susceptible to “snapping”. Maybe part of it is pride holding them back from wanting to admit it to themselves.

New parents need to know that they can take a break for a moment.  Leave the room for 20 minutes. Hug each other.  Call a friend on the phone for support.  Maybe even leave the car seat, bassinet, or port-a-crib in the bathroom with the fan on for a bit.

Frustration and Anger are powerful emotions.

Even those of us with the best self-control need to realize we are human and we have to step back at those key moments where you honestly just want to punch the wall, throw the bassinet across the room, or curse the day your child was born.

Step back.  Realize what’s happening. Take a break. Yes, in case people try to misconstrue what I’m saying, child abuse is terrible and wrong. Let’s get to the root to help stop it before it bubbles to the surface.

I’ll give you a personal example from months back when my son was an infant.  I had this logical desire to “fix” the situation and rational methodology to do it.  Of course I forgot as I often do that babies sometimes will cry regardless of what we do.

It’s part of being a baby.  (Start letting them self-sooth from a young age or they might not be able to sleep with you rocking them to sleep!)

I can recall being in a frustrated and utterly exhausted state.  I shouted “Shut up!” at one of my boys. I’m pretty sure I threw an expletive in there.

Moments later after the frustration had been released, I’ll felt quite bad for yelling.  What was it going to do? What were the implications in the future if I was setting an example for them from their earliest years that yelling was how you dealt with frustration?

“They are only babies”, I’ll realize again for the umpteenth time moments later.   Just a few days before that,  I was so agonized by my three month old son Nehemiah loudly and incessantly crying that I simply picked him up, put him in our bed, propped him on some blankets, turned on the fan to drown out noise, closed the door, and went into the other room to get away from it.

Eventually he fell asleep.

Plenty of people will think admissions such as this make you a monster. They don’t.  If said people were honest themselves for once instead of trying to virtue signal some kind of moral high-ground to scold the rest of us from, they’d finally look in the mirror and see the truth for what it is.

None of this stuff comes from out of nowhere. It bubbles. It nags at you. It builds to the point where you are ready to explode.  Well, we need to slowly twist the cap off. Recognizing you have a problem – as they say – is the first step to leaving that stage of denial.

We’ve become a society who doesn’t want to admit weakness because there are plenty of people who only seek your demise or exposing your pain for the rest of the world to judge.

Seeking Support In The Right Places

I’m trying to avoid being political with this post, but I’ll mention one detail.  A close friend of mine mentions how Trump never apologizes for wrongdoing. I suppose he has a point.  However, considering the current cultural and political climate, would you apologize?

“Just apologize,” they say.  Why then does it seem an apology is never enough?  In today’s polarized social media climate, unlucky targets either have to resign from their job, close their business, or much worse.


Side notes:  Whatever you do – DONT post on social media the inner real thoughts you are having at the moment.  People will go after you, despite having similar thoughts themselves in the past. Also DO NOT go to social services.  I hate to say it but government employees and even hospital staff can’t be trusted.

You just never know if someone with a grudge will falsely accuse you or try to make your life hell.  If some bored pranksters on the internet can figure out where you live and send prostitutes and pizza to your house, people with access to your private record can wreck havoc.  Play it safe. 


People don’t seem to want an apology. They want mob justice and vengeance in order to signal their participation in the fervor.  Few things are deemed as bad as todays popular “ists” and isms”, but child abuse is one of them – as is the potential to become the one doing it.

Go seek the help, advice, aid, and support of people who really know you. Go talk to your close friends and family and tell them what’s going through your mind and how you feel like snapping sometimes. They’ve been through it and they can help guide you past it.

They actually care about you and you want you to become the best parent you can be.  Of course they care about your kids and want the best for them, just as you do.

So much of the terrible stories of child abuse we see today all over the news can be pre-empted early.   Let’s encourage people to realize and get the support they need earlier rather than later.

The tough early years of no sleep will pass.  Right now its already being replaced with a new challenge for me and my wife; the constant requirement to watch them as our oldest Julius runs fast and grabs anything he can, and our youngest Nehemiah crawls.

Now we have to be more aware. Just the other day my youngest was trying to eat the rather large crumbs and food – a choking hazard for an 8 month old – left behind moments before my oldest son.

In fact my oldest now knows what “No” means and he either throws himself, gets angry, hits you, or all of the above. Yes, there is a difference between discipline and punishment.We now undertake this new adventure.

Godspeed for all you parents out there.  Support and help is there.

 

 

How To Endure Life’s Boredom, Beatings, and Jaded Outlook

“I’m Bored!”

Those dreaded useless words I hear uttered frequently by everyone ranging from my 14 year old cousin to my pot-head friends of yesteryear to my lovely lass wife.  Yes, she doesn’t want to watch Netflix or some other movie for yet ANOTHER night, but finances are tight as I’m the only one working for the man right now.

We aren’t just bored.  We go to bed expecting tomorrow to be exhausing, unfuffiling, and frustrating knowing nothing worthwhile will be accomplished. Stuck in a trance-like state, we’re going through the motions, even when lazy and lounging around.  Yes, we are tired from caring for an infant, and my pregnant again wife is always exhausted, but still it’s not supposed to be like this.

What’s missing?

An endurance in the fulfillment and contentment in what we’ve accomplished as a family – in a short time.  Our phones and Netflix are just a distraction in our attempt to relax and ignore reality for the moment because it’s too painful.  Idle hands really are the devils workshop. Of course there is some context.

I’m an asshole to myself and in my leadership role.   Hunkering  down each night in the living room to watch da Netflix and waste time informing myself via the news, twitter, and the blogosphere isn’t because I desperately desire it, but rather because money is tight and our infant son needs to be in his crib.  It’s a convenient and even truthful excuse

Even with it being a valid excuse, I KNOW I need to get us off TV at night time and toward something productive so we aren’t “bored”.   Between getting fat and gaining 20 damn pounds over these two pregnancies and working a sedentary call center gig,  I’m the fattest I’ve ever been.   Exercise, I need you.

Excuses Please

Yes, I should be taking us on fun adventures with plenty of walking that you see in da movies, but can we really take a 9 month old infant out on a stroll at 10 PM in 20 degree weather regardless of how well bundled up he is?

Take into account the meth addicts that seem to be prowling the streets and parks and the possible excitement we might encounter goes against our parental instincts.  When you become parents, you have to be far more responsible then you actually may want to be in your struggle against .   The delayed maturity that men in particular deal with hits hard and fast – or at least it should when you become a father.

We remain hunkered inside our bunker, trying to get our minds off life watching movies, still bored, and my wife still stressed though her pregnancy.  (A recipe ripe for producing arguments between couples.)

Ideally, I’d love to go out, grab some food, feel cool, splurge the cash, and not worry about spending money for once.  Showing off our 9 month old son to everyone at that establishment makes us feel like we’ve done – or rather made someone worthy of plenty of gazing.

True story, as every time we take him out, women drool and gush over how cute he is.  Yes, he is very cute.

However, when we go out, is it a useful investment of our time? Who are we hanging out with?  Will sharing time with them build us up?

Going out makes us feel like we are taking a break from our mundane lives living in a place we shouldn’t even be.  It’s why us millennial blow so much damn money on food when we should be saving it for that house that won’t be coming from a job that won’t we be getting because of our useless degrees.   Forgetting about life for that moment really is key.

For my pregnant wife, it takes some of the stress off.   Otherwise, it’s back to our dinky apartment where I will get yelled at for something all stemming back from boredom.  First we loved this apartment, as it was a place of our own.

Now it just reminds us of bad decisions, filthy and thieving neighbors, and all the food places around us which we shouldn’t spend money because we need to be responsible for once and save some of it.

Are They Really Down On Their Luck?

Hell, at least when we do blow dat money, it’s not on meth like much of the surrounding “homeless” population seems to do. In fact, these “homeless” folks often walk a mile down the road to their truck, throw that cardboard sign “Homeless and Hungry” into the back and drive on off.

I’m sure their plight is as bad as they want us to believe, but you’d think they’d make it obvious by dressing worse instead of like they just went shopping at the mall.  Panhandling is the way of the future.

Just the other day I was approached by some guy who asked me if I had change for the bus.  Immediately I was annoyed, irritated, and actually tired.    Where I’m from in Illinois, people beg for “change for the bus” all the damn time only to spend it on booze, cigs, drugs, or other fleeting pleasures.

Frankly, it pisses me off because unless I personally know them or someone I respect vouches for them, I can assume they are trying to shake me down like I’m some kind of hipster white costal elite type who is plagued by guilt and a trust fund who needs his good deed for the day.

Telling this guy I knew what he was up to, he still held frame.  So I decided to give him a 1$.  He then went straight into Walgreens to buy his bus ticket I’m sure.  Add getting that buck out of me to his wall of accomplishments.  What a waste of time.

Currently where I live, there is a horrible meth problem – one of the worst in the nation – as well as “homeless” people everywhere.  Sorting through the actual victims vs the pretenders makes me a jaded man.  I promise I’m going somewhere with this post.

Looking In A Cracked Mirror

However, it’s made do some soul searching.  Me and my wife have gotten food from the local church pantry here.  Did someone else need it more? Yes we have 100$ left in our bank account, but we did do frivolous spending prior.

Taking her out multiple times for dinner, buying her a maternity coat for the winter that actually fits, and getting us numerous other things at Walmart that while we could utilize, we didn’t absolutely need has got me thinking.

If I’m honest, I need to wonder if we are abusing the local safety nets – even slightly.  Yes, it’s just me working and I can barely pay all the bills sometimes.  Hell, we were down to 2$ in our bank account for about three days to get us through to pay day.

On the other hand, baby food is expensive, as is formula, clothes, etc.  Wages aren’t great and the cost of living still isn’t low enough to really save any money on one income with one infant and another on the way.   Is this all included in the thought process when charitable places don’t have a problem giving us food, aid, and help?

I’ve seen people with a far worse plight then my own;  families literally on the street outside my apartment complex.    I have a smart phone, wifi at my apartment, and we only have to pay the electric bill when it comes to utilities.  Sometimes I’ll even have around 150$ something left over after bills to get us through to the next check.   Our two door car is in good shape, and while small, it get’s us where we need to go with no car payment. Yes, it could be much worse.

The admirable American dream is still currently out of reach for me.  My wife is planning on getting a nursing gig here and seeing if they will pay for part of med school, but nothing is assured.

Our families have been very helpful.  My parents have bought us diapers, formula, and even shipped some non perishables to our house.   Our relatives have all given us some money. My wife’s grandmother who loves us dearly has sent plenty of cash our way when times have been dire.

Essentially, we are blessed.   We just keep forgetting because there is plenty of time on our hands stuck inside our apartment to ponder on what hasn’t gone our way yet.

So shouldn’t I render the same to the discarded rubbish on the street nearby?  I want to, but I’m not entirely sure who really needs help and who is just pretending.  Then again, that thought goes through my head – are we pretenders as well?

We aren’t standing out with signs, but we have gotten help.  Did people think we were worse off then we were? Surely, I hope we have not misled anyone.

Crawling Toward The Endzone

Even with self-reflection, it’s hard to be content and grateful for what we have because we aren’t anywhere close to reaching our goals and living our dreams.  Then again, even if we do, what then? Will we have a similar trance state of life, just with less worry, wondering what then shall we do?

Ease and relaxation are wonderful.  But they are not goals.  They are temporary, transitory conditions of the spirit.” – Quintus C

My wife isn’t thinking about how lucky we are to have a car – she’s thinking about how she’s pregnant again, unable to go to school and/or work, how finances are tight, and how much we miss our friends and family.  This in spite of how much we’ve actually accomplished this far together.  Why the sense of not just failed dreams, but of a lack of fulfillment in the one’s we have lived?

We need a mindset shift.  In a post about the struggles of life, Quintus Curtius  talks about the “Endzone” and about how we create goals for ourselves and yet still feel unaccomplished.

We must never allow ourselves to feel broken, defeated, debilitated, or beaten by life.  I will not allow this.  I will not permit this disease of defeatism in my life.  Will not.  Ever.”

Boredom and that trance like state spiral toward feelings of despair and failure before driving us toward any other kind of reality – Netflix for example – to take our minds off it instead of actually fixing it.  Eventually, it seeps through our diversion shields and breaks them.

When we falter toward the above,  boredom and distraction from it lead to that feeling of being beaten up by life lying down and reaching in vain for that fresh green endzone.

I’m not even in the endzone – I’m struggling within 80 yards of it, on my hands and knees dragging my burdens along.   But life is just that – a constant struggle to the day we die trying to arrive.   This is no cause for despondency and acceptance of vanity however.

Through the struggles in life is where we make and leave our mark.  Our character is refined in the furnaces of life and  reputations are forged.  Obstacles are overcome and foundations set. Stories are born and tales of your golden days are told to your grandchildren gathered around you.

You just can’t see it yet.

“But this does not mean that life is an endless sequence of gloom and doom, of conflict on top of conflict, signifying nothing.   No, far from it. It only means that life is for the living. Life is for the stout of heart. For the coeurs de leon.” – Quintus Curtius

 

 

Two ways to deal with the raging emotions of your pregnant wife.

What happens to your old hobbies? They vanish as you and your spouse both envision strangling each other – but don’t.

My pregnant wife in her natural habitat. Ice cream. Facebook. And not directing emotional rages toward me.
My pregnant wife in her natural habitat. Ice cream. Facebook. And not directing emotional rages toward me.

The above picture is of my wife in her natural habitat – the bath.  To pacify her in this time of emotional tyranny, I gave her ice cream and let her chow down right out of the container.  I even promised not to make fun of her for it – a promise I’ve somewhat kept.     She even had her phone to scroll through Facebook.

I used this precious and rare time to play my current favorite game – Fallout 4 – modded because I have joined the PC master race.  Kid in a candystore, but this was one of my final pieces.

Welcome to marriage – pregnancy stage. Prepare yourself gentlemen.

My problem isn’t one that most men complain of – a lack of sex.  We average sex twice a day.  It’s my pride, the way our fights escalate, the hobbies I don’t want to give up, and the fact that I keep forgetting my wife is my wife – pregnant and not someone you can reason with.  Speaking in generalities, women respond to emotions and men to logic – though I’m seeing alot more emotional men these days.  I keep forgetting this.

Because I don’t want to be a complete loser, I’m trying to develop more productive hobbies – which does suck. I miss my video games, and I resent the amount of time I’ve been forced to give up playing them – regardless of how “mature” it makes me.

When I get home from work, I want to be lazy. I suppose now that I am a father with one son and another on the way, it is time to be responsible and look into new hobbies that my kids will share with me once they get a bit older.

That video game, I want to play it, without condemnation, nagging, or weird bouts of jealousy that I can drink alcohol and she can’t.  To this end, I am in her crosshairs – if she can’t have fun, I can’t either.  Now this is illogical, wrong, and plain out vicious, but that doesn’t matter.  She’s pregnant and emotional.

My lovely nympho wife will nag me about productivity – which is escalated depending on how bad her pregnancy hormones are that day. Alas, it has me writing more.  While I’ve sacrificed my prized video game time, my sex life is that of envy – we average twice a day with passionate bouts of love.

Today, I bring to you the subject of surviving your first year of marriage with a pregnant wife.   If you are with a women who is pregnant, throw out everything you know about her before she decided to carry your offspring.  Prepare for hell on emotional wheels of wrath.

Her raging, vicious, and unpredictable moodswings are now your problem.  She may start crying randomly, and by the end of it taking swings at you because of her rantings about her parents or yours. I’m not even referring to the verbal wrath that you will incur in the process – that’s just a bonus.   So what do you do?

You can’t reason with the beast. You can’t argue with it.

But you can pacify it.  As a man, it’s one of the most important tools you can learn to use when you have a family.
Behold, I give to you my fellow men, a weapon with which to master her emotions in their raw and uncontrollable state (1); the manly, yet smooth,  alluring, and sexual hug.

Now I’m a proud and stubborn man, and when my wife has either hit me or attacked me in the most vicious way with perfectly chosen words to inflict the most damage to my sanity, I don’t want to hug her.  (In fact I want to hit her back after she’s hit me.)  Again, muh pride.

Shockingly, I swore I would never allow a woman to do this to me.  Yet as she is my wife and the mother of my children, my tolerance for BS has gone up – because I love her.  Love changes things. It really does.  I am a proponent of the manosphere, but my wife is my wife, not just another plate.  (Also, dread game is a NO when your wife is pregnant, plus my wife is already very jealous and will beat up other women for looking at me wrong. )

I want to fight back with the nastiest words in my arsenal possible to make her feel the same anguish. “Hurts doesn’t it?”

Indeed it does, especially when she’s pregnant.  Of course, she will remember those fights far into the future and berate you later with, “You said these terrible things to me when I was pregnant,” regardless of any words of war directed at you, the suffering father.

Women fight very well with words, a favor I can return. But should I?  Should a pregnant women hear anything anything else that will make her emotions scream?  Stress is also an issue and it can cause miscarriages.  My pride though.  It’s very angry and upset.  It’s been unjustly wounded. Yet again, I swallow it, or at least I should.

Hug her tight – from behind and then move to the front. Slowly massage her shoulders and lower back.  Get her calmed down. Physical touch will do what the most logical of words will not.  Kiss her neck, suck on her earlobe a bit. Then notice what starts to happen.  Her face changes.

Your other weapon (2) : Angry frustrated pent up sex.  

When women are pregnant, their raging hormones need to be released. They are bottled up like a kid holding his breath. Sexist sounding or not, the truth is the truth.   So take control of the situation and arouse your wife in the process.

Those raging hormones? Well, release them. Direct them toward the bed. Or couch. Or bathroom.

If your wife already has a high sex drive, pregnancy will GREATLY escalate it.  So grab  her pants, and drop them down.  Get aggressive. Wrestle with her in that bed. Or on the floor.  Your video games may suffer, but your sex life will rise to new hard peaks.

So many of our fights could have been de-escalated, but since I was mad at her from her either hitting me or trashing me, I didn’t want to have sex with her – I was too livid. I had too much pride.   A simple hug and escalation to sex could have solved it.

I must admit, she’s even told me to hug her and hold her tight – and also to pull her pants down when we are fighting. In this, me and her are different.   My anger at that moment, I must swallow.   She doesn’t need words of logic about why she is being an unreasonable bitch -something she knows as well.  She needs a hug and to be led to the bedroom.

Never underestimate the power of sex.

Learn from me, swallow your anger at that moment, and pound it out deep.  Never has there been a more perfect time for a spanking in that love making. She will love you, and you will love her.

I wish you luck gentlemen.

For further advice on many at matter to do with marriage, I highly suggest TheFamilyAlpha and AverageMarriedDad, each with their own kind of approach.

Jaxon “Jax” James Burnette and The Parents That Snapped

Jax was only six weeks old when his bones were broken. His brain started to bleed internally from being thrown very hard onto a bed.  His throat was permanently damaged when his father tried to stop him from crying by shoving his fingers down his throat attempting to find his voice box.  Jaxon would never be the same.

Child abuse is a term lightly thrown around in our time which is rife with potshots at spanking, mothers threatened for letting their kids play at the park, and parents who take away their teens Iphones and ground them from Tumblr, but the story you are about to hear is a case of real abuse.  Deathly abuse.

THIS IS A CAUTIONARY TALE.   Abuse like this is always horrible and vile, but we are fooling ourselves if we believe we are all above and beyond it.  Know yourself,  know the signs, and know when to take a break.  Never convince yourself that the stress won’t get to you: that you’re special.   You might think you’d never be capable of this, but how many people do you know who you thought would never be capable of abuse ended up being abusive?

IMPORTANT:  A lesson here is to be LEARNED.   This post is NOT interested in any kind of justification for the abuse of Jaxon by his parents, rather it’s devoted to ensuring it doesn’t happen to another innocent child.

UPDATE  1: Jax has passed away.  Murder charges will now be in the making. This is now a dire and lethal lesson to learn. May he rest with the angels.

UPDATE 2: More information has come out that hints that Jaxon may have been abused since birth.  Drugs may have been part of it, but this was just the culmination that ended up taking Jax’s life.

UPDATE  3: (ALSO: A commentor has hinted that Jax’s father Robert had a history of this kind of violence and had tried to kill his brother. ) Further reading via the DailyMail:  “His parents told police that he’d tried to kill his own brother in various ways over the years – including beating and stabbing him as well as trying to drown and smother him.”

In this case, Robert did one snap too far. “According to court records, he has also spent time in mental health institutions for severe anger issues. ”   The signs weren’t taken seriously.

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Many of the pictures below have been making their rounds on Facebook.  My wife showed me the below. Blood is on his bib. His parents look almost clueless as to what’s happened.

Jax probably won’t make it.  If he does, he will have severe mental and physical disabilities. EDIT: We can now confirm he has passed from the brutality of this world and into one that is far better.

Jaxon “Jax” James Burnette

His mother didn’t do anything to stop it. She would later claim that she was scared of Jax’s father as well of her father killing Jax’s dad as to why she remained silent and didn’t alert anyone to what was happening.  Whether this is completely true, we don’t know.

What happened here is a tragedy, but a human story that needs to be told.    Truth be told, we could become like Jax’s parents in a moment that is just too much to bear.  Honestly, I don’t think they ever thought they were capable of this, and now the heartbreak is to set in.   They can’t take it back.

Now, everyone is a critic these day’s when it comes to parenting.  I recall a recent story where people recoiled in disdain as one man explained how he knew a father who used to put his screaming son in a carseat and leave him in the bathroom with the fan on until he stopped crying.  IF only Jaxon’s parent’s could have done this instead. Know your limits.

So terrible huh?

As parents, we do feel bad when our children cry, especially when they are infants. But sometimes, there isn’t much you can do.  If you have had a child who is just starting to go through teething, you know what I mean.

You give your kid some infant tylenol, comfort them as much as possible, and the put them in their crib. Often, they cry themselves to sleep because of how tired they get.  Yep, that sounds kind of bad, “Crying themselves to sleep”, but its how babies fall asleep.    If that doesn’t work, perhaps the whirring white noise of a fan in the bathroom might do the trick. At some point, you need to sleep.

If we are dead honest, all parents have wanted to do this at some point.  It makes them normal, human, and capable of getting stressed out instead of the superparents we read about on blogs that seem like a sitcom fairytale.

When your child has been screaming all night, you are dead tired, stressed, and exhausted, this seems more and more like a better option.   In fact, sometimes you just need to walk away from the room for a few minutes, regain your composure, and let your headache ease just a bit.

Some deem it cruel, but let’s look at what happens when parents who don’t do the above finally snap.  Below is a picture of Jaxon “Jax” James Burnette, a 6 week old baby who will probably won’t live much longer.

Take a look at this picture and ask, “What happened?”

A mother lost her maternal instinct to protect her young and never bothered to stop the father, who lost his paternal instinct in a fit of rage at some point. For instance, from another source:

“She admitted she lied at the hospital, telling doctors she didn’t know how the baby was injured. Police say she never showed emotion during their interrogation. She referred to her son not by his name but by “the kid” or “the baby.”

Jaxon “Jax” James Burnette


Look at the picture above one more time.  It’s as if she doesn’t realize his suffering or what’s happened. I’m kind of shocked everytime, I look at it.

Perhaps these are terrible people who were not meant to be parents.   It’s one thing to look like junkies, but its another to let those drugs destroy the bond a parent has for their child.

It’s easy to hate them. But, again what if we became them?  Are they really this cold? Could we ever become this cold if we just snapped?  It’s a scary thought.

These parents; I don’t believe they are as evil as we want them to be. I’m not justifying their actions; I just see how easily it could be for parents to snap at some point and to this.

I’ll let STLToday give you the morbid details:

WENTZVILLE • A man from Wentzville shoved his fingers down the throat of his 6-week-old son. He wanted to find the baby’s voice box and stop him from crying.

More abuse followed. The baby was thrown onto a bed. Shaken violently. Picked up by the back of his neck.

All the while the baby’s mother watched and made no effort to get help.

That’s the harrowing account spelled out in St. Charles County court records documenting the abuse against the infant boy, identified only as J.B.

The boy was still alive on Friday morning but “extremely critical,” the prosecutor’s office said. He was in protective custody and being treated at Cardinal Glennon Children’s Hospital for, among other things, bleeding on the brain and broken bones. Doctors have told police it’s “a likely possibility” the boy will die.

J.B.  is Jaxon James Burnette It’s likely that he may never see his father again.   Another dysfunctional nightmare story if the kid survives.    I’ve only been a parent for 7 months, but I can safely say – don’t try to be a superhero mom or dad.

Jax Burnette with blood on his bib. 6 week old baby.
Lessons must be learned.

Be a parent who realizes that sometimes you need a break, that the carseat and bathroom might not be a bad idea, and that sometimes, you just have to let them cry.  

This doesn’t make you bad parents. It makes you smart, compassionate, and aware ones. Composure and patience will become welcome friends. You aren’t a bad parent. Just one that needs to walk out of the room for a bit, so you don’t snap.  Raising a kid is hard enough for two parents.  Most of us don’t have that village we need, family close by, etc.

This isn’t to say you are like Jax’s parents, it’s just that the edge is a bit closer you might realize when the crying has gotten your head pounding, your wife crabby, and your sleep has been shortened.

What happened to Jax scared me. I think we all have just enough of an inner demon in us to do something like this. Most parents will insist that they could never do anything like this…   I think they are just scared to consider they could be capable of something this heartbreaking – especially when you see Jax’s face.   I thought about my son being in his place and it almost brought me to tears.

Julius Michael Temple, my firstborn.
Julius Temple in the bath

We just need the courage to admit that we need a break to prevent us from ever getting close to this possibility. Don’t let yourself go down the path. Don’t let yourself believe you are a superparent above this kind of stress.  It’s not an admission of guilt – its a recognition of the daily demands that we as parents have.

Now Robert may have been a creature of severe anger, hate, and now murder.  If you know you have anger problems, don’t let yourself get to the place where they can manifest!!! Take a break! Walk away for a moment.  The come right back.

Deus Vult brothers.

The Red Pill Doesn’t Quite Prepare You For Being Married, Pregnancy, and Fatherhood

Julius Temple as a Baby Holding My Finger

Monday, April 18th, 2016 at 1:37 PM, my son Julius was born.  His birth was the culmination and the reward for all of the various fights, strife, conflicts, and plain out stress that me and my pregnant wife had gone through leading up to that very moment.   That said, I don’t think I was as nearly prepared for it as I thought I was.  While fatherhood strikes whether you are ready for it or not, the process leading up to it can be both a joyous and tumultuous affair.   Score one for my continued legacy and that evil Patriarchy with my sons birth though, as we are about to strengthen it’s ever growing resolve.   (My wife already told me just the other day, “I’m ready for another one.”)

That said it’s still been stressful as my son couldn’t go home with us.  He wasn’t breathing enough oxygen and had to be transferred to another hospital.  My wife’s been there every day, sometimes for 12 hours a day, with me heading there the second I’ve gotten off work.  Up until just a day ago, she couldn’t even hold him in our arms. As a new mother, it’s been killing her.

I can see the pain in her eyes, the stress in her movement, and the easy escalation of disagreements – though we’ve fought way less since he’s been born.  My wife is young – almost 20 – and this is our first child, so we as new parents are still barely scratching the surface in just what it means to be parents.   (If you’ve noticed, I try not to say my wife’s first or maiden name so certain assholes can’t target her or her future employers.)

Julius Temple as a Baby Holding My Finger
He Took My Heart Right Here – Father Moment

Yes, married couples – especially newer ones fight way more than anyone want’s to admit.

Now, we hear alot about the taking the Red Pill and what it can do for a man.  We know it can mean much more then just discovering the truth about feminism, social justice, and gender relation as Hawaiian Libertarian has pointed out. But what happens when you miss certain aspects of it, or dare I say, other “Red Pill” entirely?

Marriage isn’t something talked about nearly enough in whatever is left of the “manosphere”, though Roosh and many at ROK have made observations about about how men move past the player stage and what more from life and the worldview of Neo-Masculinity.   When it is talked about often, it’s about how men should never get married and how you should only marry foreigners if you do.

As your son looks back at you.
My son has started to open his eyes.

That’s good and all, but those of us like myself who have not only gladly taken the risk, but are creating families from it, there might be a bit lacking in the RP advice department, especially on when your wife is pregnant. While game doesn’t end when you get married, but instead evolve,  I often ask myself the following:

1. Am I being supportive enough?

2. Am I taking too much shit that I never would have taken before? Again, pregnancy is another aspect.  Women use words as weapon very effectively, and my wife is no exception when she is stressed, in pain, has a baby kicking the inside of her, and is full of hormones.  What is the appropriate course of action?

3. What should I take a stand on and what should I understand is merely a result of pregnancy?   What disagreements should I compromise on or give 100% into her on.  (Stress can cause miscarriages.)  Did she mean any of the nasty things she just said in a fight after she apologized for them just an hour later?

4. What kind of game should be run vs what kind of game is even acceptable? Honesty is important, alas why my wife knows what my worldview is.

5. How should I resolve fights? I have my normal RP way of dealing with women, but my wife isn’t just a woman, she’s the mother of my son and is love of my life.  Red-Pilled wisdom from older married men is something I wish I had way more of.   Yes, I know of stuff like this, but it doesn’t go far enough.

In our young marriage, we’ve had some terrible fights, but they’ve ended pretty quickly. Sometimes I’ve put my foot down, and it does lead to more respect.  The thing is I lack the necessary wisdom of when to use a gentle word to turn away wrath and when to be firm.  My dad gave me a piece of wisdom in that hurtful words said early are bad for the early foundation of your marriage. No brainer, of course.

For the most part when my wife is on the verbal warpath, slashing me with her tomahawk of vicious words, I usually won’t say nasty things back; something I would do in return to anyone who wasn’t my family or my wife.  I made a specific exception because she is my wife, and was pregnant.  One time however, I did slip and I was so mad, I called her a piece of shit.  Despite she had said far worse things to me during the car ride in which we were fighting, all of her nasty barbs didn’t matter. I was blown away.

Surprisingly in many way, Bill Burr was right:

Why was my wife acting like a teenager? Then it me; she’s 19. She still is a teenager.  In fact, I’m her first real relationship.  Her expectations and mine have been different on a few things.  I want my alone time – she strongly objects to this sometime, the pregnancy being part of that.   I often wondered, why does she say the nastiest shit when she’s angry?
(Sometimes whenever she is irked by my actions/words she will say in this disproving motherly tone, “Seriously?”  It irks me even more and makes me want to say, “Yea, fucking seriously.”  Then, I remember that I do indeed love her.    I just wish there were more guys out there like AverageMarriedDad and TheFamilyAlpha who know what it’s like and have advice on how to have a successful happy marriage and a resulting healthy family.  Too often, we get alot of marriage advice from men who aren’t actually married or are bitterly divorced and have a strong bias against it – somewhat understandably so.

Marriage is hard work, but it’s worth it.  Yes, it like any other major life choice is a risk, but it’s a worthy one, despite the quality of good women in our generation, the courts, and a system rigged against men.    Marriage is a risk, but what else in life isn’t a risk? Some of the best thing in life involve risk – whether that be in time investment, finances, relationships, etc.  Don’t let your life be hindered by aversion to risk, simply decide what risks are really worth it.  I do believe marriage is one -provided you find the right woman which definitely is worth it.

Holding your son for the first time is worth it. Oh and stopping fights as they happen with sex – which we do alot – is totally worth it.   In fact, if there’s anything I’ve learned it’s that if the fight is about to escalate, pull her pant’s down.  Her words, not mine.  Well, she was definitely right about that. (Also make-up sex and I’ve never had to beg for sex. Ever.)

I encourage men who aren’t sure about marriage to really look for a good woman. They are out there, though you won’t find them on Tinder, bars, etc.  Are you looking hard enough? Are your glasses filtering out the good girls?  Many of you say you want one, but do you really?  When you marry young, you do face different challenges and you would be wise to ready yourself for them. Being good at being a man is hard work.

Do you want your legacy to continue? Do you want the pleasure of having your child gaze up at you and look deeply into your eyes? Do you want to statistically have far more sex as a married man than single men do – especially when you are young?  Obviously don’t marry for just sex or even just love.  Find the right woman.  You don’t marry someone who is your soulmate. You marry someone who becomes your soulmate. Remember that dear Gentleman, and Godspeed to you.

P.S. For all future and current parents with young children, I highly suggest Quintus Curtius’ blog which will provide a foundation of classical themed education and insight that is so lacking these days.   He is that Aristotle that you’re sons in particular need as their tutor as they delve into those famed classics.