Women were never intended to compete with men in the male sphere. This isn’t a knock on women, or a concept that’s inherently anti-woman. Nature is the biggest fascist of all and has carved out meticulously defined roles for men and women without any concern for our feelings. The true secret to a successful life is to work in harmony with the role you were given, and do the most you can with it.
Men are Civilization builders, and women exist to inspire men to greatness. Male physiology demands sex; for emotional wellness, a man needs feminine energy. For our species to thrive, we need children raised within the safety and stability of a nuclear family. While women may not be the builders of our Civilization, they are the foundation from on which it’s built… and somewhere along the line, they decided they should be both.
And if we’re playing “Back to the Future 2,” this is around when the timeline splits; welcome to Alternate 1985.
The grim reality of the world is that most people don’t know how to think. All of these people worshiping academia, signaling supposed intellectual superiority, and machine-gun spouting opinions like an Ikari Warrior, don’t actually have the proper foundation of building accurate thought.
Yes, “accurate thought” sounds fascist; now you’re getting it.
Opinions are not made equally; valid opinions require adhering to the unflinching rules of Logic and Argumentation. The sad reality of modern education is that those rules are only taught deep within the Philosophy department’s course catalog, hidden away from typical student’s ideology heavy masturbation sessions.
Gosh, it’s almost like they don’t want people learning how to think.
But everyone wants an opinion, and everyone wants to sound smart. Intellectual superiority has become a modern addiction.
Part of the beauty of Shane Carruth’s Primer lies in its alienating density. Carruth doesn’t care if you don’t get it; nothing about Primer is inviting or accessible. You will not understand Primer the first time through, repeated viewings are necessary. Even with a timeline walk through, Primer is conceptually intimidating.
Unlike most films, the thematics of Primer are hiding in plain sight. The challenge of Primer is following the details of the plot.
When I sat down to watch Primer again with the idea in mind of writing about it, I decided to ignore the time-travel elements. Chuck Klosterman had already written an excellent essay on Primer’s time-travel and I’m unsure if there’s anything left to be said on the topic.
So, this time around, I pushed through the fantastically constructed physics and focused the characters.
I was shocked to find an entirely new movie emerge.
When I was an adolescent I had two different Playboy magazines under my bed. At the time I felt like a nudie magazine millionaire. Well, maybe not a millionaire, but a very wealthy man. It felt like I was dating those centerfolds with the regularity that I saw them naked. At night, before bed, I’d crack one open and with my imagination racing I’d enjoy a hot-and-wild fifteen minutes before falling asleep as a highly satisfied thirteen year old.
Then you end up in High School and there are post-pubescent girls all over. Large breasts in tight white button-downs and plaid skirts. You want to be a wild animal. You want to fuck them all. You’re in bed at night and you’re thinking of Lynette with her long dark hair, and her perfect skin, and her full breasts, and suddenly Miss October seems a little less appealing. Lynette had the depth of reality; Lynette represented possibility. Read More
She doesn’t love you. She loves her idea of you. This may be a close approximation of you, but it isn’t you and it never will be. She doesn’t want to see your humanity; it’s unsightly and weak. It will never match her idea of you. She loves the value you provide. She loves to believe in your leadership, and to rely on your conviction. This isn’t you, even if it’s a close approximation. You will never match the idea she has of you, and when this idea becomes damaged beyond repair, she will leave you if she has other options or resent you if she doesn’t.
The best horror isn’t low-brow schlock; the most effective horror plays on the subconscious anxieties of its audience. Most people need some degree of delusion to get to sleep at night; denial of death, denial of change, the affirmation of safety, the affirmation of identity. Without willful ignorance a person would be overwhelmed by life.
Horror pierces that nerve within the controlled environment of fiction; where the stakes are imaginary but the emotional ride can feel real.
If a child’s greatest fear is parential adbandomnent, and a woman’s greatest fear is sexual violation by an undesirable, a man’s greatest fear is his disposability; a man is only worth as much as the value he is able to contribute- if this value dissipates, the man is rendered worthless.
The unconfident beta-male lives in a constant state of fear that he will be rendered worthless to his woman; apt for disposal and replacement. The beta-male fears the confident, experienced Alpha male. He fears a future where the attractive Alpha may take fleeting interest in his woman, and he fears a past where his woman has experienced what it’s like to be with a real man– she knows the difference and secretly snickers at the beta-male’s pathetic little cock.
Women say rape is about power because that is how they primarily understand sex; an exchange of power. A woman can wield her sexuality to the detriment of a man- the proverbial carrot on a stick- in order to manipulate ruthlessly to her own end… or completely relinquish this power, taking intense pleasure in relinquishment, when a man exceeds her threshold of attraction.
It bears repeating that real rape is a vile crime on par with brutal assault and a notch below murder- as serious as a crime can get.
However, Fake Rape is an overt power-grab by abusing the cultural and evolutionary dynamic of men lacking inherent public sympathy while women enjoy a nearly infinite supply of it.