(slow, yet intense piano music)
Oh my god! (screams)
Jesus f--- Christ
(Sound of water bottle opening)
(Sound of water hitting face)
(heavy breathing)
Here we go (clears throat)
Hi. I'm Dan and welcome back--
Yeah, that shirt's going to be a problem.
Why?
Oh, cause the-- f---
Is it that bad? You can't see the-
Piss. Ok, um..
This is the first time I've worn this shirt.
I was gonna do something cute here.
It's kind of like, you know, emo shirt.
But, then there's something about the lace
that's just like a little bit gay.
But it's not like so gay that it's gonna turn off a lot of straight people
that accidentally click on the video
'cause the title looks interesting.
I'm just taking it off, right?
Fine. Lightning fast. Keep running.
(sound of microphone noise as he changes)
Does that work? (sigh) (clears throat)
Hi, I'm Dan and I'm contributing to the extinction of the human race,
because I don't want kids.
(upbeat music)
Saying such a heinous thing in the past
would have you branded as an outcast in society where you're either surely a
weirdo that's probably gonna be arrested for being a serial killer
or a witch and it is time to repeatedly dunk you in a river for some reason.
Well, times have changed.
I'm actually just a little depressed
with the state
of the world, and I'm not sure if I wanna keep adding to it.
("Yay!" sound effect)
Even now, saying such a dramatic thing, I don't know if I want kids.
gets you hit with a (surprised gasp.)
But, you will love them (sad music)
and they will love you, and who will
look after you when you need help to poop? (fart noise)
All valid. But, it's what we're built to do,
it's literally what the penis is for.
Trust me, I am doing everything with it but what God wants.
For real. I am at that stage in life where
I guess, I'm an adult. (awkward laugh.)
All of my school friends have just
started plopping out kids,
which let's be clear, were all lockdown babies.
They were all accidents. Yeah.
Uh, relationships only went two ways in lockdown.
Either they realized usually they spent so little time together
other than bonking that they don't
actually know each other. They have nothing in common, and now they're
trapped in the house with their sentient sex toy that they actually hate.
And split up. (Noise of glass breaking)
Or they are welcoming beautiful baby Danarius or little Nas X or
as you go for f---ing jpeg, whatever
Grimes sent into the world.
Aww, they're cute. Definitely planned. (Sarcasm.)
I found myself looking around like,
oh, God,
people aren't actually expecting me to do this, intentionally.
Are they?
There is no more f----ed up phrase in this world than "settle down."
Oh, in the 50's, you're expected to just
marry someone from high school immediately
and shit out octuplets and just skip straight to day drinking (monkey noise)
and being resentful.
Bam! That is life right there
and now you are just procrastinating until
you get put in a home.
What is the rush, huh?
I don't need octuplets to day drink.
I just need to look at twitter for five minutes and lose my will to live.
Why is it "settling?"
Why must we settle?
Can't we keep rustling?
Nervously twitching or irritatingly
tapping our legs through life?
And why is it down?
Jesus, if it was called "settling up" it might be aspirational.
Going to Heaven is settling up.
Settling down just sounds like euthanasia.
It's like the backup option when we realize that life is ultimately boring
and unfulfilling.
Like, shit, I ran out of TV to watch.
Oh, I know. Let's create a whole f----ing life that didn't ask to be here.
Oh, your marriage needs saving?
A child will fix it. (Baby crying noise.)
Yeah, that's right.
How's that fifty percent divorce rate
working out for you?
Right. Ok, first up,
I like having a selfish life.
There, I said it.
I've already wasted too much time in
my life so far studying things that I thought I should. Aspiring for careers
that I thought I should,
and not doing things with my penis because they aren't God approved,
and I am still making up for lost time.
I struggle to get a basic amount of Mario Kart into my schedule
to maintain my fragile mental health.
So, no, I do not want to maintain a whole ass life.
I still very much feel like I am working out who I am,
what the hell life is about and how I
even feel about this place that the idea of something else becoming my priority
does not seem appealing.
When I speak to friends that just had babies, I hit them with the uh,
oh, is it nice, yeah? Do you love them?
Bet you feel like they love you.
How much sleep are you getting?
(Intense music)
They're just crating their crusty necks
towards me as a fountain of blood erupts from their eyeballs.
Yep, a child would take my time.
Drain my resources, stop me from being
spontaneous. Which you know is just one of those things that I like having
the option to do, even if in reality I
only leave the house for work and
I'm more likely to just be sat in my underwear eating yogurt and
watching videos of dumbass Golden retrievers running into incredibly clean
glass doors.
"It's the final brain cell!" (to tune of "final countdown")
But I could be spontaneous, alright.
It's knowing that I have the power and possibility that keeps me
from feeling free. I've got 20 houseplants
and those needly f---ers stress me out enough as it is. (Chicken noise.)
I only have to water them once a week.
If I have to feed something multiple
times a day and clean it and entertain it,
oh, man, I mean (laugh.)
Don't get me wrong, having plants and pets
is good for your mental health.
"Getting houseplants to support your
mental health is the gay version of having a baby to try and save a marriage."
It is good to have small tasks or a routine,
feel invested in something's growth and
feel rewarded by the joy that it gives you
but you don't have to entertain a cactus!
If I was trapped in a lift with a cactus
or a Golden retriever, no problem.
If a child looks at you and says "I'm bored."
Holy f---, that terrifies me.
I just moved into a new place that
finally looks tasteful, and now what?
I have to childproof it?
I'm already ditsy bitch with giraffe legs
constantly walking into the corners of furniture.
My genetic child stands no chance.
Also, children's toys are inherently
colorful, and that clashes immensely with
my depressed lesbian lumberjack core aesthetic here.
We'll just end the video there to be honest. That's all that matters.
The responsibility is incomprehensible.
My whole schick is built entirely around
how I was clearly set up for failure in life and I am still just trying to
settle it out.
I do not want to f--- that up (puppy noise) for baby Danarius.
How many books about child psychology
are like, hey, umm, yeah, the first time you ever touch your child
if your hands are too cold--trauma.
Just like that, it's a bisexual.
There you go. First time you scold them,
oh, you gotta say the exact right thing
or when they're twenty they'll realize
they have a horrible sexual kink.
Even stupid sh--, my dad used to always pronounce wafer as wah-fer because of the
wah-fer thin mints in Monty Python.
"Monsieur, a wah-fer thin mint. (Blah.)"
And I grew up my whole life thinking it was actually called wah-fer!
I love blaming all of my flaws on nature and nurture, and I will not
let anyone do that to me.
Imagine if I pass on generational trauma,
and in twenty-five years, my annoying
generation B2 child is streaming in
the metaverse as the avatar of a stomach
inflated pikachu talking about how me
eating yogurt in my underwear every night is the traumating reason why they are
the figurehead of a transhumanist revolution downloading themselves
into 10G enabled internet smart toilets.
No! I will not!
There's also the environmental argument that the most efficient thing we can do
to save the world is to simply all f---ing die.
Just die and let the squirrels rip off
my nuts and try to survive their nuclear
winter we left behind.
A hole of the life of resource consumption that may beget further life,
add infinite items. I feel stressed about
remembering to recycle the lids of those yogurts.
I'm not gonna make another me.
Dear God, the world doesn't need that.
And that's if there's a world left,
because I will be honest, we're at a
crossroads in society right now where we're either gonna live in um
one of those cool Star Trek post-scarcity
green utopias of love and peace where we
sort this shit out or a full climate apocalypse unironic YA dystopia
without the sexual tension and cool outfits.
Forgive me for waiting to see what happens first with brexit or the
U.S. Supreme Court or China, Russia, social media just melting off brains
before I jizz in a petri dish because I'm bored.
Also, I'm gay.
Yeah, probably should have mentioned that way sooner if you didn't pick it up
from the lacy shirt.
Now if I accidentally got someone pregnant
(Emergency alarm sound)
that would be pretty interesting.
(Awkward laugh) for science.
Yeah, I mean I could adopt, have a cool science baby, or just enter a strange
platonic lesbian mutual relationship family commune type deal.
So, no. I do not really feel the need to
"settle down" and create a life.
But, on some level, I still feel bad about it 'cause I guess we've all been
conditioned by our culture to imagine our
future and homes full of little laughter
and of course, hey, the laughter would be nice. I'm sure unconditional love
does make you happy even if I'm scared of the responsibility of shaping someone.
Maybe that fear means that I would do a good job.
Could I actually make a happy person?
Now for some reason people always say,
Dan, I think you'd be a great dad.
Which makes me think, you know, with all this meaning "um, really?"
(Awkward laugh)
"Are you sure that you've consumed all of my content?"
Look forward to the video with Louise coming very soon.
If I need a pep up, I'll have just a bit of Louise's placenta,
and then it will be just "uh" (snaps)
Louise: "eat my organs."
Dan: "Is that cannibalism?
Louise: "Is it?"
Dan: "is it?"
Louise: "A little bit."
Dan: On some level I do think that I'd be the best f---ing dad in the world
because you know what I'd do?
I would just actually love my child and let them be whoever they want to.
I would just be there for them to make sure they feel comfortable telling me
anything, and I'd be their friend.
I think it'd be fun to see a curious mind try to work out how the world works
and seeing someone take it in with a pair of fresh eyes might give me
a totally different perspective on life.
I'm so against this idea that we are meant
to do something, and yet,
our mental health, biological inherited
evolutionary pyschological makeup is what it is.
So, give me a bonk and send me to jail
for I know I am horny for a reason.
Of course, if my child turned around one day and said, "Daddy, Daniel, I want
to be an influencer."
Mercy killing straight away, let's go for
another one round where we f---ed up.
The most paranoid thing here is the people
choosing not to have kids are probably the
people that should be raising the next generation.
If we think that younger generations might fix all of this terrible shit,
that's because the people had kids that
had kids that had kids that had kids.
What if in a hundred years, all that's
left after the generations raised by
people doing things for the wrong reason and they happily vote for their own
annihilation?
Now, choosing to create life so that on some level, they can literally save
the world is a bit intense sounding,
but that is where we're at.
Let's be honest, that also sounds really
f---ing cool. (laughs)
Yeah, you can give them a little edgy
YA dystopia baby growth.
But, hey, we'll see.
How long do people even live for now?
I mean we keep measuring our expectations for life based on
our grandparents' life expectancy,
but they were smoking since they were two and
married at twenty, and just holding on for
dear life until now.
Are we gonna be like, a hundred and ten with half-cyborg bodies?
We're just little drone sperms and drone eggs and we get to piss around being
selfish and gay for sixty years, and
maybe then it's perfectly okay to create life to shake things up.
'Cause maybe we'll actually know what we're
doing or just want to pump out some soldiers for the culture
war.
Tell me how you feel, huh?
Am I denying myself love and joy?
Or should I somehow me more afraid than
I already am?
Who knows?
If this video gets 100,000 likes I will
film myself giving birth.
So, subscribe (bell noise)
and smash that f---ing like.
Yep, thanks for watching Dystopia Daily
with Daddy Daniel.
(chime noise.)
Okay (sniff).
(Sound of microphone as he takes off flannel.)