THE COOMER KILLINGS AND THE COMMODIFICATION OF "SACRED SEX"

Is sex even important anymore?

by Duns Scotus

The recent shootings at "massage parlours" in Georgia was a perfect example of how dysfunctional our media is. First we were told that the shootings had occurred at a number of "spas." I don't know about you, but I had a vision of Lord Snooty in his bath chair being gunned down as he "partook of the waters" to cure his gout. But of course "spas" was a clumsy euphemism for rub n' tug joints or brothels. 

Next the whole "White racist attacks on Asians" narrative was predictably rolled out, even though we have long known that it is Blacks who are mainly responsible for the so-called "recent spate" of violence against Asians. Like a bad smell, this evidence-proof narrative is going to hang around, simply because the establishment media has decided that it wants it to. 

Finally, and only in a few corners of the media, did the truth finally emerge: the shootings had nothing to do with race. They were instead motivated by one man's internal struggle against his own sexual demons. Yes, we had a rare case of someone taking sex so seriously that he was actually prepared to commit mass murder on account of it. 

For almost everybody else, sex, the thought of sex, or often the lack of sex is not such a serious matter. But for this one young man, 21-year-old Robert Long, sex was something big, something he couldn't reconcile with the rest of his life, which was apparently defined by his "white bread" Christianity. Against this, the "coomer" temptations of porn and prostitution burnt like acid on his skin. What makes this story stand out is that so few people are like this today, even though sexuality—or rather the taking of sex deadly seriously—is at the core of what it has meant to be human for thousands of years.

From time immemorial the countervailing urges to acquire women and protect their virtue has been the piston of history. Protecting women, promoting feminine virtue, and sanctifying sexual relations has been the bricks and mortar of civilisations. But in the modern world, this has all gone, swept away by the feminist mantra "my body, my rules." If women want to fantasize about being abused by chads and alphas a la "Fifty Shades of Grey" or simply to whore out their bodies, that's entirely up to them nowadays, and nobody has any right to dissent with that grim orthodoxy, least of all a culturally disempowered "white bread" Christian.

The constant low-level sexual aggression of female immodesty, too, is allowed to percolate through our societies, so that even if young males, like Robert Long, want to shun it and allow women to do their own thing with their own bodies, it becomes difficult if not impossible for them to tune it out. It was for this reason that earlier generations of young Christian men occasionally sought refuge in remote monasteries or lives of hermit solitude. Modernity however will now find you out almost anywhere. You can run but you cannot hide from the global standard of depravity.

The accepted response is to become dissolute, jaded, or blase. Either you join in and get sex "out of your system" through whoring, masturbation, or dating (assuming you have the skills), paying a toll of your time, energy, money, and self esteem as you do so, or else you seek the "hermitage" of marriage. But that too may fail you and prove a paltry defence against the consumerist sex society and its synergy with atomised feminism and individualism.

None of these options seem to have quite fitted Robert Long. For him sex was still very much a matter of life and death, an unkillable obsession, like it was hundreds of years ago, when our civilisations were being forged by the awe and terror, the honor and piety with which we invested the feminine essence; something that modernity in its blind striving has liberated us from, casting us instead at the feet of darker gods.