Guest blogger Gay Uncle Brett Berk: A lot of experts have been commenting on the California woman who recently delivered eight live babies: critiquing the doctor, the family, and the fertility industry for creating this unsustainable phalanx of squirmy infant life. Most of the reaction has been from a scientific perspective, noting the health risks associated with this kind of multiple (multiplex?) birth. But no one is taking the position I am, which is to say, simply, that octuplets are GROSS.
Of course, they're each a glorious blessing from the Lord, and I want them to be healthy and thrive and survive so they can create their own freak show, or pay-per-view nanny-cams. Yet I just can't stop myself from thinking about all the ... sh*t they're going to produce. Of course every baby defecates. That's line 3 in their job description, after eat and sleep, but right before cry. But if you have eight families each with just one child, all that poo is spread out (pardon the image) over a number of different locations. A little here, a little there, some more down the street. If you have octuplets, it's all gathered up and concentrated in one giant, steamy, gaseous, constantly growing heap.
And that's just one example of this consumption/production cycle. Think of the quantity of milk that will need to come out of that mother's boobs. (Note on fridge: Buy More Hay). Consider the number of tweens in sweat shops half way around the world who will need to be recruited to sew all their teensy Old Navy outfits. Picture a garage full of strollers. An Astrodome of cribs. A Niagra of urine and mucus and spit up. If you begin to think about it this way, octuplets are not simply unsafe, or immoral. They're disgusting.