The two paths of our son’s hells

Heartiste has thus spoken as he will typically have the last word.

I like Heartiste. I enjoy his writing immensely.

I can’t hang with some of the Game stuff he writes about for many of the male herds. Most of it no longer applies. I see it all as short-sighted and weighed down by the incomprehensible wails of prepossessed and obstinate guys who enjoy (forget that: rely on) asserting strict, cold, polarized dichotomies in order to make a point. Many men believe that the harsher the black/white delineation, the more masculine the assertion. Gray is feminine. The ability to consider multiple shades of the same argument is akin to trading in your penis for ideological subservience in their minds. I don’t personally buy this.

Game is configured around much of this brand of thinking and I have never been an absolutist. Call me a pussy if you’d like. I don’t think like that.

Heartiste’s Game frolics are easily ignored by me. Let the young guys banter about that stuff. They still have active and exploratory social lives. I’m 48. If you need to consciously practice “Game” at my age, something is wrong. You should have integrated a kernel or substrata of masculinity into your psyche by now. Perhaps you are a battered and beaten down, but the conscious education of learning how women work should have been a lesson of your younger days.

When Heartiste writes on matters of sociology, politics, race, economics, etc, I listen. He echoes many of my personal sentiments in these realms. This is the stuff I identify with. It pertains to me.

Today Heartiste posted Men Turning Their Back On Modernity, the first post I’ve read of his that spirals a bulls eye of recognition straight into my soul. He has articulated the premise of much of what this Socially Extinct/An Unmarried Man/Phoenixism bloggery originally symbolized for me, though my own articulation and realization was lacking.

Heartiste’s post is about the “pulling away” and disconnect necessary for modern, mature man to experience if he is to maintain a semblance of his primal nature. Modernity and technology are the building blocks of masculinity’s sublimation. Technology neuters men. It preempts muscle and might, it trivializes survival and softens sinew. It reduces men, the Hunter, into a sputtering race of rote-dwelling hamsters spinning the wheel faithfully for his leering masters in the hopes of getting another bite, another nugget, a reward for his tireless selflessness and unquestioning subjugation. This is not man. This is robot. This is slave. This modern sentient being with a penis is a heartless, soulless creature that the modern technological matrix has bred.

Technology is ultimately anti-masculine; conversely, it is pro-feminine. It rewards human female sensibilities and weakens what was left of the masucline. The dissonance of a society that has made such chaotic advances rings loud in the hearts of people, but they have no idea what is going on because they are blinded by the glittery toys available for purchase. There is a schism between the hereditary legacy left by thousands of generations, and the squalid demands of a modern world that seeks to run its machinery in the absence of our male presence. Men are weak, women are strong, and the dissonance breeds subconscious dissatisfaction. It drives us quietly crazy. Insane. Mental illness is rare but we live in a psychiatric dystopia where every modern malady has been categorized into a string of academic pathology and we are consequently defined as sick, when in fact, we are confused because what we live is not what we are. But we would never know this because the lure of modernity draws our attention elsewhere while our inner world crumbles like dust into the shambles of our ego.

Heartiste wrote of me, of those of us who recognize the schism.

There are some men and women who stupidly persist in attempts at understanding, or at the very least, awareness, of that which our nature rebels against which resides in the ruthless impetus of civilization. We alone recognize the unhappiness for what it is. This is not to infer that we avoid it. But, having been privy to it because our eyes are wide shut, we are thus positioned to either avoid it, eschew it, disown it…or revel in it.

Heartiste spoke to those of us who disown it. We exist in it, we live it, but we disown it, in little daily gestures of indifference and disregard.

The thing to keep in mind is that whereas other similar outlying groups eschew civilization out of bitterness, some men do it out of conscious, malicious choice. We recognize, coldly and clinically, that there is nothing in this world for us anymore. Modern society with all her stupid technological and earth-shrinking innovations, is nothing but a harlot. We are too old and seasoned to care about her anymore.

Sadly, in order to disown modernity, I believe a man must be older. I cannot fathom feeling this way when I was 20. Nor should we expect young men, in the prime of their breeding and carousing life, to eschew society. When women are available for the picking, why would a healthy young man man turn his back on this gift? Men, through the generations, rationalize their own existence. The parade of pussy mesmerizes and he forgets his problems, society’s problems. Instead of taking bold stands, he fucks and parties and lives a life of depravity and dissolution.

Because he can.

He gets older and realizes it was all a farce. Now he hates it and regrets it because he sees that his sons are also doomed to the same reason recurring hell.

Heartiste wrote something that defined me better than I could ever do myself.

The men who turn their backs on modernity become less secular, less spastic with stimulants, less beholden to participation in the rat race, less burned out by digital addictions social or sexual, less political, less engaged in meia-fed triviality, less liberal (yes), and less status-conscious. They may even become less sociable, as it seems a precondition of eschewing the trappings of modernity is a willingness to ostracize oneself from the hedonist herd.

I realized for once, that I am known.
I am uncovered. Illuminated!

Sweetest was his acknowledgement of the cultural trial we face as deniers of modernity.

He recognizes that some men enjoy the gratuitous existence of pleasures and gluttony, while also allowing that not all of us need join in such folly for the sake of legitimizing our manly existence.

This is not a lifestyle choice for everyone. Some of us like our freedom and sexual cornucopia, and can better manage, or compartmentalize, the peculiar stressors of secular modern society. But many people would find much comfort and peace of mind by essentially flipping the bird to the trajectory that the West is currently on. If you believe that maximizing human happiness is a noble goal, then you wouldn’t stand in their way.

Alas, there are two paths.

One in the morning and one in the evening.