If you thought Elon Musk was just the bloke sending Teslas into orbit and Doge memes into your timeline, think again. Behind the code, rockets, and Twitter tantrums lies a full-blown sci-fi fertility cult, with a plot that makes Handmaid’s Tale look like a parenting blog. From hush money to hush babies, Musk isn’t just building rockets—he’s building a legion. Literally. Here are ten jaw-dropping revelations from the Wall Street Journal’s expose that reads less like journalism and more like leaked notes from a Vatican fertility summit hosted by Trump.
1. He Calls Them His “Legion”—Because Why Stop at a Soccer Team?
Elon Musk doesn’t have children. He has a legion. That’s what he calls his sprawling brood, borrowing the term from Roman military units known for conquest and expansion. The mission? To out-breed the collapse of Western civilisation. The method? Unclear. But one text from Musk to a baby mama suggests “we will need to use surrogates” to “reach legion-level before the apocalypse.” As you do.
2. He Has a Fertility Fixer, and His Name is Jared
Every superhero needs a sidekick. Batman had Alfred. Elon has Jared Birchall, a devout Mormon who also plays financial consigliere, emotional midwife, and non-disclosure agreement enforcer. Birchall once warned a mother, “when a woman goes the legal route, that always, always leads to a worse outcome for that woman.” The man isn’t just protecting Musk—he’s doing fertility triage for MAGA Mars.
3. Ashley St. Clair, Romulus, and the $15 Million Silence Clause
Ashley St. Clair, a right-wing influencer, claimed Musk is the father of her baby—named Romulus, because Spartacus was taken. Musk offered her $15 million and $100K/month to keep mum. She wanted legitimacy. He wanted NDAs. When she declined the gag order, her support payments mysteriously began to…decline. Coincidence? Musk says, “Only the paranoid survive.” Also: “No comment.”
4. Grimes, Neuralink, and the Courtroom From Hell
Grimes, mother of three Musk-spawn, had to sue him for custody after he allegedly kept one child away from her for five months. The courtroom drama was brutal, with Musk’s team apparently dredging up her past to discredit her. Meanwhile, Musk offered his sperm to Shivon Zilis, his Neuralink executive, in what appears to be a corporate insemination strategy. And they say startups don’t have benefits.
5. Shivon Zilis: The Chosen One
If Musk’s baby mothers were Hogwarts houses, Zilis would be Gryffindor. She has “special status,” attends black-tie dinners with Bezos and Ivanka, and meets Narendra Modi at Blair House with babies in tow. A Yale-educated AI expert and Musk’s Neuralink lieutenant, she may also be the real-life inspiration for whatever dystopian dating app Silicon Valley launches next.
6. The Compound: Musk’s Austin Baby Farm
Somewhere in Austin lies Musk’s answer to population collapse: a gated compound where his children and their mothers can all reside. Yes, really. Zilis is already living there. Musk wanted St. Clair and Grimes to join the baby biodome too, presumably to coordinate diaper schedules and indoctrinate the legion. The others, it seems, weren’t so enthusiastic about the Mars Mommune.
7. Cryptocurrency, Clout, and Conception
Musk’s method of meeting mothers is…very on-brand. He slides into the DMs of influencers on X, boosts their engagement, and sometimes asks them if they’d like to help him save humanity—by bearing his children. Tiffany Fong, a crypto influencer, was one such candidate. Her crime? Telling friends he asked. Result? Unfollowed, engagement tanked, earnings fell. Musk giveth, Musk taketh away.
8. Birthing Preferences: No Romance, Just Sperm
Musk once bragged about donating sperm to a high-profile Japanese woman after being approached by “Japanese officials.” No romance, he clarified. Just sperm. In another instance, he discouraged St. Clair from vaginal birth, citing concerns about brain size, and asked she not circumcise the baby—despite her being Jewish. Musk, it appears, doesn’t just believe in designing cars. He believes in designing babies.
9. From MAGA Hats to Paternity Wars
Musk’s romantic arc with St. Clair began on a private jet and climaxed with him wearing a custom black MAGA hat she made. During their relationship, he texted her policy ideas for Trump, asked her thoughts on Tulsi Gabbard as VP, and discussed how “real men are made for war.” By the time Romulus was born, Musk was ghosting her texts and negotiating paternity tests through proxies.
10. Weaponised Money and the Decline of Empathy
After St. Clair revealed the baby’s identity online to beat tabloid leaks, Musk cut her payment from $100K/month to $40K, then $20K. The timing coincided with her legal pushback. According to her lawyers, “money is being weaponized.” For a man who tweets about free speech and liberty, Musk seems very comfortable using his billions to enforce silence. Democracy may die in darkness, but paternity lives in litigation.
Final Thought: Musk’s Mars Needs Mommies
Musk says he’s doing all this for the species. To save humanity. To ensure we’re “multiplanetary.” But one can’t help but notice that his ideal future involves rich, white, intelligent people—preferably conservative and under NDA—carrying out a eugenic mission under his oversight. It’s part Ayn Rand, part Handmaid’s Tale, part SpaceX baby bootcamp.
He wants a Mars colony with crypto accounts, AI nannies, and fertility-by-algorithm. But Earth isn’t quite done watching the drama unfold. Whether Musk is remembered as the father of multiplanetary civilisation or just the world’s richest sperm donor with a control complex remains to be seen.
Either way, buckle up. The baby legion is just getting started.
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