Ouroboros, that hungry snake,
found nought of what he might partake.
In desperate straits, his tail he curled,
then ate himself and shat the world.
Hope is my enemy. She is a succubus who descends upon sleeping humankind, whispering that there a future. A bright future, as a matter of fact; as long as we persevere in extending our essences through the lives of our children, and through their children. She is a liar, a snakeoil salesman bartering chimera for generative fluid, which she sucks out of us before casting our withered husks onto the fire. And so we fall, row upon row like seasons of corn, but not until we relinquish our seed into her exploitive hands. For in the end, we all die, and only Hope lives on. And we rot, sometimes mourned for a season, but presently forgotten. Ultimately, like it or not, we are the future's dirt. This is the state of affairs we choose to subject our children to.
We continue to deliver into this existence, by means of procreation, generation after generation of children. Children whom we love, but also children who, by the very nature of things, are all condemned to suffer, and to die. In fact, a birth certificate and a certificate of death might as well be written on the same piece of paper. Death, including all the suffering leading up to it, is as inextricably bound up in the fabric of life as is the moth's attraction to the flame. Each of us is the thinnest of bookmarks, caught between the leaves of birth and death in the tome of eternal nothingness. Why, then, do we continue to feed the ever-burning fire that consumes without a trace?
The O.T. is an accounting of one ancient nation's attempt at making things right with their Creator. This shouldn't have been that difficult from a moralistic perspective, considering what a Giant Prick their Creator turns out to be. It was probably tough getting an accurate read on just what might please the Almighty Despot in the Sky. How do you predict the moods of One Who turns a blind eye to rape, pillaging, slavery and even genocide (fact is, He often commanded such atrocities), then whips right around and has you executed for picking up sticks on Saturday?
The whole heaven/hell thing is predicated on the idea that each of us has free will, and that most of us will choose the path that"leadeth to destruction." This isn't my reality, but if it's yours, shouldn't any thought toward bearing children take account of these most ultimately horrible of stakes? Think about it. Hold nonexistence in your right hand, and an eternity of unbearable agony, which must nonetheless somehow be borne, in your left. Is there ANY question as to the more favorable state you'd want your child to end up in, after his body has gone to ground?
Now, after allowing the utter obviousness of my rhetorical question to sink in, consider this. The right hand path, or the state of nonexistence, is exactly the state that a Christian yanks his child out of in the first place. And according to Matthew 7:13-14, the odds of that child's damnation to a place of everlasting torment are AT LEAST as good as playing Russian Roulette with five bullets in the chamber.
Life is suffering. The antinatalist wants first and foremost to cut suffering off at the root, through encouraging non-procreation. But in the end, he's just another person living among many. His life, like yours, is tied to the lives of his neighbors and loved ones -- and especially to the lives of his own children. There is love, and indeed, a sense of duty. Yes, life is suffering, but part of that suffering is loss, especially loss through the death of a parent, or another beloved person.