A boy named Gert



Steve King was hanging in Twitterland with a Boy Named Gert over the weekend when the Kiron philosopher clued us that you can’t defend your culture using somebody else’s babies.

Gert Wilders is a Netherworld white nationalist who wants to run Holland. King is all for him. The congressman sends the regards of Orange City, I’m sure. When you think of Gert, you think of the neighbor lady Reding from St. Joe, not some fire-breathing knuckle-dragger from tulip holler.

Not sure what American culture has to do with Dutch culture. I hear Amsterdam is interesting but not much like Sioux City. King says that you have to rear your babies right, and that if you ain’t from here then he suggests that your babies won’t get the right kind of culture. If you grew up hearing Lee Greenwood, then your children will appreciate Lee Greenwood. And like that.

King said Monday that he is about defending western civilization. You remember that class in school? Neither does anyone else. King wasn’t at Northwest Missouri long enough to take it, I bet. Western civilizaton, as I recall from not listening, was defined by the Romans and the Greeks, who were sort of shady in many ways. The Irish seriously claim that they protected western civilization from the Dark Ages, but they drink a lot. So I am not sure what culture he is referring to. The Greeks could be gay, and the Romans were pretty rough on proselytizers, so he must be referring to the American Exceptionalist reframing. Its ultimate expression was the delivery of Donald Trump unto us after King paved the way through lo those lonely years on Fox Chatter Box.

“God bless Steve King,” said the hero of the Klan culture, which is essentially Amerian as Louisiana, David Duke.

It’s the babies part that is less confusing.

From a Sac County perspective it makes sense. Rural schools now carry names like O-A/BCIG. Not enough babies. Enrollment at Laurens-Marathon is down 40% over the past 15 years. Down 24% at Galva-Holstein, which is now Ridge View. If you want to save your town, you had better keep them barefoot and pregnant.

Those babies are cute when they’re little. Then they grow up and can’t wait to get out of Northwest Iowa on a fast train to Georgia. Except we don’t have any trains. So they drive off in pickups for the big city where they can get a job to maintain a culture that they shook off their boots. Not a lot of jobs in Kiron for those babies with beards.

Civilization is under siege, then, in places like Storm Lake where we are having the wrong kind of babies. They are babies born to people who weren’t babies born here themselves. Natal nabobs of cultural deconstruction and dissimilation. Good Gert, they are coming out the windows of the Storm Lake schools. Babies everywhere. And they want to stay here. The son of a dad who works his own store during the day and the night shift at Tyson. That’s not the culture Gert and Steve have in mind. There are just a couple blondies in the second grade. Who will carry us forward?

King says it’s about culture, not race.

If you were born here ignorant, you are of our culture. If you move here smart, you should just keep on moving and don’t drop a baby while squatting on my land. The land we took from the original civilizers, as it were, the Sac and Fox and Lakota. We had guns and whiskey. Our culture was superior. It is superior, King says.

The Native Americans tried to have more babies but we just kept killing them, we Exceptionalist interlopers.

The Santiagos are having more babies than the Van Der Sneezins. There are food carts serving tamales. That sort of thing. Quinciñeras and Cinco De Mayos and Feasts to the Virgin and that stuff that just chips, chips, chips away at the cultural foundations of Storm Lake. King warns that there are two or three generations who refuse to drink from his cup of culture, who refuse to become Dallas Cowboys fans, who refuse to serve hot beef sandwiches, who refuse to watch Lawrence Welk reruns. How are you supposed to build a civilization around that flux?

We like our girls basketball six on six. We don’t understand soccer. Those little soccer players, born to babies who weren’t born here, could be fomenting the next revolution that is the final demise of everything we have come to know and love. Like shooting coyotes with AR15s in the evening from the back of a pickup with your son. Do it now before the moment passes. Because, sorry to say, they just aren’t having babies in Sac anymore, gramps.