i’m in a field filled with big ego/low emotional intelligence people and it’d wild to me how obsessed with “legacy” so many of them are.
no one even knows about you, why would they care about your family line? the most history will remember 99.999% of us is some obituary in a newspaper noone reads. the only way you really impact those odds is by being a creative or making in impact in your community/ie. joining political stage
all caught up in the rat race wasting their lifes chasing a fulfillment/acknowledgement they’ll never recieve from the boss/org while burning what little potential for human connection they actually have by overworking so much.
So anyhow my wife, kids, and me all have different last names. Complicated hippie stuff yada yada.
At first, my dad was all disappointed the family name ends with me.
Fast forward fifteen years. My dad discovers that our family changed their names when they moved to the “old” (middle?) country 100+ years ago, to assimilate there. They just didn’t anglicize the name when we moved here.
My dad doesn’t say it but he wanted the family line to continue. I don’t care, humans will continue without this mix of DNA.
He never needs to know I got a vasectomy back in my 30s.
i’m in a field filled with big ego/low emotional intelligence people and it’d wild to me how obsessed with “legacy” so many of them are.
no one even knows about you, why would they care about your family line? the most history will remember 99.999% of us is some obituary in a newspaper noone reads. the only way you really impact those odds is by being a creative or making in impact in your community/ie. joining political stage
all caught up in the rat race wasting their lifes chasing a fulfillment/acknowledgement they’ll never recieve from the boss/org while burning what little potential for human connection they actually have by overworking so much.
That doesn’t narrow it down, unfortunately.
I’m guessing it’s a paddock somewhere in 'Murica
I think it’s instinctive. It’s why blood and soil propaganda works.
My dad: “if you don’t have kids, the family name and lineage dies with you.”
Me:
So anyhow my wife, kids, and me all have different last names. Complicated hippie stuff yada yada.
At first, my dad was all disappointed the family name ends with me.
Fast forward fifteen years. My dad discovers that our family changed their names when they moved to the “old” (middle?) country 100+ years ago, to assimilate there. They just didn’t anglicize the name when we moved here.
TL;DR: all names are just made up
If you start tracing family’s back far enough you find that most “lineages” get murky pretty fast.
Anyone walking around doing spermatogenesis without a vasectomy is a fucking idiot.
You can do it while you walk??
I don’t really even think about it anymore.