Big Damn Heroes

After reading a post by Ace on the feminine need for pain and suffering — whether externally or internally sourced — I was feeling pretty low.  The question you ask yourself is why?  It’s the same question the beta asks himself after a breakup:  We had a good thing going.  Why’d you have to go crazy?  It’s the same question a self-aware woman asks herself:  why do I shit-test?  It’s the question a newbie to the manosphere asks himself: why do I have to become a jerk to attract women?

Here’s the answer, I realized: because women are crazy.

I don’t mean that in a throw-my-hands-up, aw-shucks, whaddya-gonna-do way.  I mean destructively crazy, prone to doing things that cause ruin and suffering:

And thinking about this, I got pissed.  How many nice girls dating douchebags, and becoming like them?  How many men checking out?  How many abortions?  How many families delayed or prevented?  How many unhappy women?  How many unhappy men?  How many lies peddled by popular culture?  How many years of adolescent angst extended into adulthood?  How many condoms in the landfill?  And any of it for any redeeming purpose?

And in the midst of my anger and frustration, I gained conviction: the world is crazy, and I am not.

As long as I’ve been around these parts, I guess I’ve been waiting for the world to “get it,” eliminate feminism, yada yada.  “Oh, sure, I’m part of what almost amounts to a persecuted religious sect at the moment,” I thought subconsciously.  “But someday reality will assert itself, and…”

Now I realize: sure, reality will assert itself someday in the future, in terror and smoke.   But you can’t approach mass culture as though it’s run by reasonable adults.  It’s the mob, and must be treated as such—loved, but not negotiated or reasoned with.

I am the reasonable adult.  In some ways this is a small death because it places an awful lot of responsibility on your shoulders.  But it is also a huge relief to be able to say unshakeably:  I know X for certain, and I don’t need anyone else’s opinion to validate that.

Here is what I wrote at Ace’s:

If you’re a dude and this pisses you off, good. That means you’re sane. Part of your purpose on this earth is to survey this feminine tendency to self-destruction, shake your head, and say, “No. This is madness that can only lead to suffering and sorrow. I will not allow it.”

Faith before fear.

In the science fiction TV series Firefly, a girl with psychic powers is about to be burned at the stake by backward townsfolk that believe she’s a witch.  Her doctor brother, after trying in vain to talk down the witch hunters, steps on to the platform to burn with her.  It’s a very touching scene.

…Until the captain of their ship shows up and says, in effect, “Yeah this is tender and all, but how about instead of you two burning to death I have my buddy train a giant gun on everyone and we avoid all this.  And by the way you guys are all hicks.”

Notice the music change when the ship appears.  This is a frame change.  Like a woman awash in her own storm of emotions, the doctor and his sister are caught up in their own internal preparations for dramatic and noble death.  Then the captain and first mate show up trading one-liners and just overriding the situation.

I almost wrote a phrase here: “This is crack to chicks.”  But that’s not quite true.  a) The emotional obsessing beforehand  is crack to chicks, not the rescue, and b) crack is badthat’s the whole point!


A final observation, from the second clip:

Townsman: The girl is a witch!

Captain Fillion: Yeah, but she’s our witch. (cocks shotgun) So cut her the hell down!

Here it bears mentioning that the girl is kind of crazy.  She’s murdered a few people.  It would not be insane for her to be thinking, “Yeah, I deserve to be burned here.”

In a world without Christ, this would be the plight of all humanity.  “Why reach toward God?  We are forever unworthy.”

Christ replies, “Yeah, but you’re My  unworthy people.  So start acting like it!”