“The hand that rocks the cradle rules the world,” it has been said. This is not quite so: but the “hand that rocks the cradle” does determine the world. It seems like the oddities of young people are rather irrelevant. Who cares if some 19-year-old dingbat has some kind of kooky opinion in college? It seems like they don’t have much influence. Their elders and betters both outnumber these young goofs, but also, have positions of responsibility and leadership. But, these young people eventually grow up; and those elders, raised under different conditions, get old and die. The young goofs become degenerate adults, entering and then eventually leading the major institutions, and the older adults become irrelevant.
Unfortunately, women today have largely abandoned the task of raising children (and thus “determining the world”) to public schools, television, media, universities, and basically the whole Cultural Marxist sewer pipe. We really don’t need women to do men’s jobs. What we need is someone to raise the children so that they don’t grow up to be the modern-day equivalent of Mao’s Cultural Revolutionaries. This will, at the least, require getting the children out of public schools; and much more than that. Men need to find wives who are ready and able to do that, and who are not themselves irredeemable products of Cultural Marxist pollution. In other words, a TradBabe of at least Level 4 housewife potential.
Here, as inspiration, is the original 19th century poem, “The Hand That Rocks The Cradle Rules The World.”
The Hand That Rocks the Cradle Rules the World
by William Ross Wallace (1819-1881)
Blessings on the hand of women!
Angels guard its strength and grace.
In the palace, cottage, hovel,
Oh, no matter where the place;
Would that never storms assailed it,
Rainbows ever gently curled,
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.
Infancy’s the tender fountain,
Power may with beauty flow,
Mothers first to guide the streamlets,
From them souls unresting grow —
Grow on for the good or evil,
Sunshine streamed or evil hurled,
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.
Woman, how divine your mission,
Here upon our natal sod;
Keep – oh, keep the young heart open
Always to the breath of God!
All true trophies of the ages
Are from mother-love impearled,
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.
Blessings on the hand of women!
Fathers, sons, and daughters cry,
And the sacred song is mingled
With the worship in the sky —
Mingles where no tempest darkens,
Rainbows evermore are hurled;
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.
Cornerstone 