by Andy Nowicki
In previous times– before the sexual revolution and the attendant collapse of the family and sexual morality—the malignantly hypergamic female impulse was contained and curtailed by social convention.
A woman was scorned as a tramp if she proved unfaithful—in thought, word, or deed—to her husband. Similarly, the sort of man who seduced an already-married woman was castigated as a cad. Such a one was liable to be lynched, or at least to lose his livelihood.
Indeed, all of this relentless social shaming served a crucial cultural purpose: the societal enforcement of monogamy prevented the highest status-men from monopolizing the bulk of women, leaving the bulk of the “betas” out in the cold.
None of this, of course, prevented both the male and female id from bubbling up from time to time, in the form of certain shameful indulgences—prostitution, pornography, clandestine affairs, or at the very least, the publication and distribution of obscene novels, thrillingly recounting such dalliances, to be furtively perused and masturbated over in secret.
But such behaviors are only to be expected when people are required to deny themselves the fulfillment of their desires for the sake of the continuation of their civilization. The heart still “wants what it wants,” after all, and the undisciplined heart is a degenerate organ indeed.
In pre-revolution days, a woman was asked to restrain her hypergamic proclivities, or else be shunned. Today, however, in our perversely inverted culture, a person is shunned, shamed, and vilified, not if he tolerates sluttery, but rather, if he actually has the temerity to instruct a woman to be decent and chaste.
The “slut-shamer” is now regarded with the same judgmental contempt that used to be reserved for the slut; the slut herself, meanwhile, is applauded for ostensibly “taking ownership of her sexuality.” This is rhetorical dishonesty at its most obvious, for true “ownership” of oneself is in fact only achieved through self-restraint, not through compulsive indulgence. The recovering glutton takes ownership of his impulse by refusing to feed his face, the alcoholic takes ownership of his vice by refraining from drink, and the slut takes ownership of her sexuality by opting not to be slutty anymore.
A woman afflicted with malignant hypergamy, however, has poor impulse control. She will commit to her man only insofar as he continues to occupy a place of status in her mind. Once his status begins to wane, she becomes restless, grows detached, and begins to look elsewhere. She falls out of love as easily as she falls into love, because all along her inclinations aren’t truly manifestations of “love.” Rather, they spring from a thoroughly base, animalistic appetite to be perpetually pleased, thrilled, and invigorated, whatever the cost may be to others.
The cure for malignant hypergamy, as with all vices, is indeed “ownership.” To own one’s appetites is to recognize the need to restrain them. Unfortunately, as our man learned in the hypothetical example recorded above (which is a sort of composite of various relationships I have observed), we do not live in a time when women are encouraged to be virtuous. Instead, we live in an age of “You go, girl!” Crassness is taken for “empowerment.” Absence of decency is called “boldness.” Innocence is sneered at, while licentiousness is deemed “enlightened.”
All this while the human toll continues to escalate while the misery index spikes. Curiously, it is women themselves, when untethered from their baseness via malignant social conditioning, who prove to be the most miserable of anyone.
They have been sold a raw deal, and have bought into it, and in so doing, they have cheated themselves out of real any chance for satisfaction or happiness. Yet still they persist. And still the institution of marriage grows ever more degraded. And still our civilization continues its free-fall collapse.
Indeed, all of this relentless social shaming served a crucial cultural purpose: the societal enforcement of monogamy prevented the highest status-men from monopolizing the bulk of women, leaving the bulk of the “betas” out in the cold.
None of this, of course, prevented both the male and female id from bubbling up from time to time, in the form of certain shameful indulgences—prostitution, pornography, clandestine affairs, or at the very least, the publication and distribution of obscene novels, thrillingly recounting such dalliances, to be furtively perused and masturbated over in secret.
But such behaviors are only to be expected when people are required to deny themselves the fulfillment of their desires for the sake of the continuation of their civilization. The heart still “wants what it wants,” after all, and the undisciplined heart is a degenerate organ indeed.
In pre-revolution days, a woman was asked to restrain her hypergamic proclivities, or else be shunned. Today, however, in our perversely inverted culture, a person is shunned, shamed, and vilified, not if he tolerates sluttery, but rather, if he actually has the temerity to instruct a woman to be decent and chaste.
The “slut-shamer” is now regarded with the same judgmental contempt that used to be reserved for the slut; the slut herself, meanwhile, is applauded for ostensibly “taking ownership of her sexuality.” This is rhetorical dishonesty at its most obvious, for true “ownership” of oneself is in fact only achieved through self-restraint, not through compulsive indulgence. The recovering glutton takes ownership of his impulse by refusing to feed his face, the alcoholic takes ownership of his vice by refraining from drink, and the slut takes ownership of her sexuality by opting not to be slutty anymore.
A woman afflicted with malignant hypergamy, however, has poor impulse control. She will commit to her man only insofar as he continues to occupy a place of status in her mind. Once his status begins to wane, she becomes restless, grows detached, and begins to look elsewhere. She falls out of love as easily as she falls into love, because all along her inclinations aren’t truly manifestations of “love.” Rather, they spring from a thoroughly base, animalistic appetite to be perpetually pleased, thrilled, and invigorated, whatever the cost may be to others.
The cure for malignant hypergamy, as with all vices, is indeed “ownership.” To own one’s appetites is to recognize the need to restrain them. Unfortunately, as our man learned in the hypothetical example recorded above (which is a sort of composite of various relationships I have observed), we do not live in a time when women are encouraged to be virtuous. Instead, we live in an age of “You go, girl!” Crassness is taken for “empowerment.” Absence of decency is called “boldness.” Innocence is sneered at, while licentiousness is deemed “enlightened.”
All this while the human toll continues to escalate while the misery index spikes. Curiously, it is women themselves, when untethered from their baseness via malignant social conditioning, who prove to be the most miserable of anyone.
They have been sold a raw deal, and have bought into it, and in so doing, they have cheated themselves out of real any chance for satisfaction or happiness. Yet still they persist. And still the institution of marriage grows ever more degraded. And still our civilization continues its free-fall collapse.
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