Jeg vil gerne sende ham her følgende, meget rammende Philip Larkin digt:
They fuck you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.
But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another's throats.
Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don't have any kids yourself.
(Jeg ville selvfølgelig ønske jeg var skarp nok til selv at formulere noget debatterende kronik på den måde, men det er jeg altså ikke. Lige pt i hvert fald.)