How God Got Expelled and the Devil Got an After School Club

A Wise Wolf "I Have a Freaking Migraine and Don't Feel Like Doing 10 Hours of Research to Write an Article No One Will Read" Op Ed

Editorial Note: I do not care if you are gay, a lesbian, a transsexual, or a one eyed one horned flying purple people eater attracted to watermelons. What you do with your body in the privacy of your own home is YOUR business and nobody else’s. What I do care about is watching kids all across America get marched into what amounts to a sexual conversion psy op while the same school system rolls out the welcome mat for after school Satan clubs. Children do not belong on the front line of your culture war. They are not props for your parade or your pentagram. Kids do not need to know what holes you like to put your hoohaws into, and they do not need a grown stranger explaining how much the devil loves them. Kids need to be in school learning to read, write, do math, find a country on a map, and figure out what trade interests them. Not getting nudged toward any sexual preference, and not getting walked down the hall to meet Satan. That is the whole objection. Now, the article.

Earlier this week, a little boy threw a pride flag in the garbage like it was a used napkin, and a good chunk of the internet went apeshit over it.

The photo hit my feed this morning. Some pride parade, a rainbow flag, a kid who looked about seven.

The reaction is the story.

This is the same crowd that spends every waking hour telling us children are wise and pure and KNOW WHO THEY ARE at age six. Right up until a six year old does something they don’t like. Then suddenly the kid is a puppet, a victim, brainwashed by his terrible parents, far too young to understand anything.

Funny how that works.

I commend the boy. He thought for himself, which is apparently the one thing you are not allowed to teach a child anymore.

He is seven years old. He did not wake up that morning and pick a side in anything. Best guess, his family went for a walk and wandered into a parade they never planned on, and somebody working the crowd spotted a photogenic little boy and hustled over with a rainbow flag, figuring he would wave it around because it has pretty colors. That was the shot they were after. Cute kid, bright flag, and the headline writes itself. KIDS LOVE PRIDE. Sell it to some website for a hundred bucks.

He threw it in the trash instead. And it went viral.

The kid wanted nothing to do with being a prop in some stageplay the extreme left was putting on. That is the whole game now. Children are the props. The grownups bring the politics and the camera, and the kid is just the body they pose in front of the lens. Parade, library reading hour, school assembly, it makes no difference. There is always a grown stranger ready to shove a banner about adult sexuality into a child’s hands and call it education.

Try getting a pastor into that same kid’s classroom to say three sentences about Jesus. The lawyers will arrive before he finishes the first one.

One adult gets applause. The other gets a restraining order. When did we sign that deal, and who held the pen?

Remember the evolution fight? The deal back then was that schools taught BOTH. Creation and Darwin, side by side, and the kids got to weigh it and decide for themselves what they believed was true. That was the compromise. That was supposed to be the whole American idea of the thing.

Look around now.

Bye bye God. Hello Big Bang. Hello “the science,” delivered in the tone of voice normally reserved for people who handle snakes.

The Big Bang is a theory. Evolution is a theory. Nobody in that classroom watched either one happen, the teacher included. And nobody, in the entire history of the species, has ever managed to disprove God. Yet somehow in about forty years He got walked out the back door of every public school in the country while the universe-from-nothing crowd got tenure.

If schools were actually neutral, I could live with it. Honestly. Everybody’s beliefs at the door, teach the kids to think, may the best idea win.

That is not the deal we got.

Because the same forty years that emptied the schools of God filled them with something else. AFTER SCHOOL SATAN CLUBS. Real ones. In real public schools. Right now. Kids invited in for snacks and crafts and a cheerful little lesson plan about science and the devil and how very much Satan cares about children. (They really do pitch it as caring about the children.) They are not shy about who they are recruiting.

And the government does nothing. Which only confuses you if you still think the government is on your side. (That flyer is real, by the way. I did not cook it up with AI or knock it together in Photoshop. A real recruitment image, handed to real kids, at real schools that are letting a Satanic cult walk in the door and teach children about the devil. The same schools that show Christ the door. Think about that one.)

I am not going to spend three thousand words today on who I believe is actually running this, because it is too bleak to type out with the migraine I currently have. Short version. It is hard to watch Revelation unfold in real time, in broad daylight, while half the country is still in a headlock over whether the last election got stolen.

Who cares.

It does not matter which one of them is sitting in the big white house. It never has. They are not loyal to you. They are loyal to whoever paid for the campaign. Same song, same dance, top to bottom, the entire run of this country.

Ten years or so back, a little girl, maybe ten herself, sat down with her grandfather and traced the family trees of every president we have ever had. They found something that should have led every front page for a month. Every president but ONE, red and blue, was RELATED. Same bloodline. The big left-right cage match you watch on television is two cousins in different colored ties.

The same families that run it. The same families quietly walking God out of your kid’s school. The same families holding the door for the Satan club and the drag performer and pointing at the pastor like he’s the threat in the room.

And it works. Give them a child for twelve years and by the time he reaches a college campus he is so marinated in it that if you bring up God he looks at you like you just produced a chicken bone and started chanting. Processed. Finished. Done before he ever got a fair shot at deciding for himself.

That is the whole operation. Mystery Babylon, getting to the next generation before the next generation is old enough to swing back.

So… What do you do about it?

Teach your kids about God. But pay attention to the HOW, because the how is where most well-meaning parents blow it.

Do not jam dogma down their throats. Let them ask questions. Let them ask the brutal ones, the ones that make you sweat. And when you don’t have the answer, do not panic and recite something you half remember from a sermon in 2004. Sit down next to them and go find it together. That is the most honest thing a parent can do, and kids can smell the difference between a real answer and a nervous one from a mile off.

I study scripture myself. With my own eyes. I do not just swallow whatever some heavily credentialed expert hands me, because for all I know that expert is on the payroll of the same people who own half the planet, paid very well to feed me the approved talking points that drain the faith right out of me one footnote at a time.

Narrow is the path. It says so, plainly. Do not get talked into worshiping a counterfeit Jesus. And do not let your kid get talked into an after school club run by people who think the devil is fond of him.

Talk to your children. For real. About God, about their soul, about what is actually in scripture. Not just about who Christ was, but about what He actually TAUGHT. Goodness. Kindness. Charity. Mercy. Taking care of the person standing next to you. That is the entire thing. That is exactly what they are working so hard to make your kids forget.

That is what matters right now. More than the headlines. More than the election. More than ‘sportsball’. More than any of it.

That’s the work.

I am taking the rest of the day. I have a migraine doing its level best to split my head down the middle, and some legal trouble from a decade ago decided this was a great week to come crawling back out of its hole.

Funny timing. I publish a piece about feeling targeted and the universe goes oh, you noticed.

If any attorneys are reading this, let me know in the comments. I need some advice. I can pay.

Talk to your kids tonight.

Help keep the Wise Wolf howling.