Seppuku is really f**king difficult when all you have are chopsticks and a cello bow.
Amy Chua is almost certainly a raging, cruel bitch who should be prosecuted eventually for child abuse.
"Eventually" because the slant-eyed Yale professor and controversial author of Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother, an instructional manual for sadistic parenting, has produced two brilliant daughters and provoked a national discussion about the wisdom of feel-good childrearing. Plus, Westerners only prosecute monsters long after their crimes have ceased.
"Chinese" parenting, like their food, is salty, gut-busting and irresistible to certain Jews. But without it, we'll gorge ourselves on the American junk diet of tasty, artery-clogging mediocrity.
The risk of withholding urination and dinner privileges from your child until her piano-playing is perfect, of course, is your pint-sized Plutarch may become a suicidal Sylvia Plath. That’s still preferable to producing a lazy, self-satisfied child who constantly demands affirmation for his terrible finger paintings or college hiatus to "find" herself.
Look no further than the soccer field at your typical elementary school to see the American educational ideal. Amid a lumpy lawn strewn with Doritos bags and Rock Star cans from lunch, children with no discernible athletic ability learn to whine and flop their way to greatness. They kick air instead of ball while a teacher earnestly shouts "good try!" The tubby ginger goalie -- the one the kids chose solely for his girth-to-goal ratio -- heaves to get his doughy frame off the ground and block the shot, crashing ignominiously to the ground like the average Hamas rocket. Then the principal has the gall to shield the little butterball when his teammates charge over to scold his failure! Replace the soccer ball with a fractions test and you’ll get the same coddling response from parents and educators.
How will anyone learn to succeed in this global economy without suffering a verbal beatdown for his shortcomings?
Westerners need not worry that copying the Chinese approach will inevitably turn them into grammatically-challenged robot slavedrivers. Professors in New Haven and lawyers in Cambridge ride their children, hard, out of a sincere desire to make them competitive and Fifth Avenue penthouse owners. Asians do it because they’re going to hell.
The worst thing you can do in Asian societies is dishonor the family. Anything short of a full-ride scholarship to the Ivy League, six-figure profession (plumbers excluded) and producing male offspring is dishonorable. Once you’ve done it, there’s no redemption. It's either ritual disembowelment or shunning at family gatherings, which feels about the same. No one will be sacrificing spirit money to your corpse.
Until the last vestiges of Christendom fall from the West like Taylor Momsen’s top around cameras, the only comparable circumstance WASPs will fear is bad feng shui for their magnetic floating beds. Their kids know that throwing the SATs won’t make God or their parents stop loving them, creative li’l failures they are, with a one-man show at the ready to justify their flops at life.
Take heart that the only thing you whities have in common with the yellers is your fear of non-Obaman Africans.
The paper tiger that is China produces tiger mothers who demand the excesses of a modern education from their children, whose little fingers are bound to nearly impossible strictures for the sake of creating literate, musical, and numerically enhanced Asian monsters of well-roundedness. These geishas of education not only cultivate perfection, but in their zeal, push the bounds of children's collective and individual will to live.
American defects in the twin sectors of child-rearing and general educational thrusting, by contrast, are ideally suited for a long life of dependence upon guilds and unions, subsidies, or just the good old fashioned standby, welfare.
Lazy bastards on one hand, suicidal geniuses on the other.
The lazy may not inherit the earth, but they'll likely receive food stamps. Meanwhile, the Chinese are throwing themselves in front of trains and jumping out of the eight story of iPhone factories.
In the end, the lazy outweighs the brainy. Not only are Americans larger, pound for pound, than your average Asian prodigy, but their lack of musical or mathematical talent is more than made up in bulky unionized bluster and blue collar sentimentality. This is why America ranks 28th in overall mathematics but number one in athletics.
Suicide, on the other hand, is practically an art form for oppressed Asians pushed to the brink by their parents who lost all sense of perspective after overcoming pretty much every obstacle facing ethnics in America (read: none). The pressure to succeed, hammered into them from before they were fetuses, and in comparison to their failed ethnic compatriots the Hispanics, the Filipinos, and oddly, the Italians, Asian children have nothing but the shrill screeching of their Tigeresses to bolster them, nothing but the staid emotional distance and high expectations of their businessmen fathers, and with every parent not only pitting their children against the past but also against the current crop of wunderkind, the urge to off oneself can seem less compulsive than the desire to go to a frogurt clone (which in itself is suicide-inducing).
Some Americans may secretly fear the fierceness that is Amy Chua, or more precisely, what Chua represents. Ruthlessly determined mothers push their children out of the womb and continue to push them into glory through near sweatshop conditions (no outsourcing for these Bengal bitches!), creating number-crunching prize violinists, leaving kids from the Heartland to struggle through basic geometry and scorn anatomy for that football scholarship. Usually those scared parents are Upper West Side Caucasians who fear that little Bret or Karen will one day have to fight for those cushy Wall Street internships you hear so much about.
But the truth is, when your only options are death by seppuku or brutal piano lessons that mimic the Bataan death marches for tiny tanned digits, most kids will opt for the latter, if only because seppuku is really f**king difficult when all you have are chopsticks and a cello bow.
Let's face it, at the end of the day, America is awesome, and even the most abject laziness is not to be feared. Because no one listens to classical music any more.