In these degenerate times, even to speak of love is to invite scorn, to be called a sentimental fool or a pathetic beta male. But it was not always so.
Love has been a central topic of discussion in Western Civilization. The early Greek philosopher EmpedoclesÂ gave it the status of universal force. Plato, too, and the neo-Platonists dedicated many works to the topic. The myth of Eros and Psyche was a perennial theme of art, and the Grail legends still have cultural influence today. Similarly, our movies and television shows are pervaded with romantic themes. However, similar to Greshamâ€™s law, paltry conceptions of love drive out granderÂ ones. IÂ shall not examine the decline here, but merely present some defense of the more noble conception of love.
This ideal of love isÂ beset from two sides: that of the bro and the intellectual, as I shall call them. I hope to show that both positions, while understandable, are wrong-headed. Briefly, the bro position attacks love as mere beta male pussy nonsense while the intellectual holds that it is a puerile and mawkish idea. I will freely admit that in disproportion and in severance from real-world particulars it can become those, but it is not essentially that way. Ideals need defending from the cynicism and extremism of a degraded culture.
To address the bro criticism let us look briefly and from a great height at the Middle Ages. One cannot doubt, in general, the dominance of patriarchy in this period. Conflict is common, man and nature are more dangerous than at present, and human muscle is the main driver of production. This too, on the other hand, is the age of chivalry and of the troubadour. Men utterly dominate the scene, yet (excessively) romantic notions of love are rampant. This is because, contrary to the narrative, it is the male that is the romantic, not the comparatively anaesthetic female. (Of womanly notions of love, I have little to say. It is a more concrete thing – tied to the more practical affairs of life, security and safety not least.) Â To address a familiar theme, the male is the agent of romance, the female the object. The minds of men are more easily enthralled by abstractions, including ideals. When we rule our own societies, an abstract feminine is a motivating ideal whether she be a Helen or a Mary, a Gretchen or a Beatrice. Biologically, we crave the female, spiritually â€œthe eternal feminine draws us on.â€
From the other side we have the sneering (((intellectuals))) and the jeering intellectuals. They constantly try to deconstruct or otherwise undermine the idea of love. Think of Lucretius and his flatulent Venus. I am sure a fair few of you have some Mencken quotations to hurl at me, but they do not bite in light of his Sara Haardt. The intellectual has more than his share of self-awareness. This causes both baseless romantic ideation as well as virtual paralysis in cases of real potential romance. This no doubt leads to embittered intellectuals. Among his peers, this creates an arms race for greater and greater cynicism. It is a situation made all the worse by the need for many intellectuals to seek novel views as well as to separate themselves from the rubes back home by disparaging their time-worn and hokey ideals. It is no coincidence, either, that the hipster must assume a tiresome aura of irony in his otherwise rabid quest for authenticity.
Both the bro and the intellectual are bitter, their jadedness no doubt hard-won. Our culture still has the vestiges of white civilization; the idea of love is still out there. We see it in our movies and our television shows, especially older ones. A formerly common plot involved the discovery of old love letters or poems, for example. That plot still makes sense today, but it cannot be about today. At best it belongs to our elderly, but even that becomes less and less true. Similarly thousands of romcoms feature the â€˜meet cuteâ€™ but that requires a functioning community and inviting public spaces. Can we really imagine our malls, train stations, bus depots, airports, parks, town squares and so forth as viable spaces for love? Of course not! Mugging and murder perhaps, but not love. Many such spaces are unsafe, unpleasant, and downright uninviting. Even those that are tolerable lack the social infrastructure to be relevant to non-utilitarian activities.
Our culture still indulges white ideas of love, but this just sets up white men for failure. Those ideas have no vital relevance. The failure that results when white men do what they feel they are supposed to do (and moreover what is instinctual) causes much sorrow and anger. We then turn to game blogs out of desperation, or become male feminists hoping for pity sex, or become embroiled in relationships that our culture actively wishes to fail and which sadly often do. The result is a lot of meaningless sex, a lot of failed relationships, and a lot of ruined lives. Women turn to pharmaceutical intervention while men turn to mechanically banging club sluts, and those are the â€˜luckyâ€™ ones! The man thinks of some sweet girl he once knew, the woman of the sweet girl she once was. That is if either can feel anything at all, beyond some vague hope that the next little death be a final death. The unlucky ones end with porn addictions and body pillow waifus or short blue hair and extreme adiposity. This is a profound disaster for our people, men and women alike.
I will not speak of this not-so-little rift within the lute without offering some notes of hope. One must first understand that I paint a far bleaker picture than is yet real. There are still safe and lively public spaces as well as happy and loving couples. We must not kid ourselves that these are not under heavy attack though. Our neighborhoods and our marriages are ravaged by our increasingly alien culture and laws. Awareness, a much-ballyhooed and misused word, is our greatest friend in this moral war. The recognition of our own values is of paramount importance. Love, like beauty and truth and freedom, is a core Western value; we should not so easily surrender it. The subversive nature of love has long troubled the utopians. That is until they hit upon the idea of rotting it inward until it molders away. They have replaced it with a mere simulacrum â€“ an ersatz love that is solely sex. We have not lost yet, though.Â
We still have some of our ideals and our ways of life. To counter our enemies, the sexes must work in unison. So go fall in love, itâ€™s the white thing to do.