Rollo comments, concerning the de-stigmatization of polyamory subject,
On a social scale it seem like the next deductive next step – blend a justifiable Eat Pray Love narrative with the more visceral (yet unignorable) sexuality of 50 Shades and women will readily consume it. I expect there will be the same hamster spinnings of NAWALT and most women respect their marriage vows, but it still wont wash with the overwhelming ‘guilty pleasure’ popularity that 50 Shades exposed on a large scale.
Writers like Rinaldi and E.L. James have tapped into the Alpha Fucks / Beta Bucks anxiety rooted in women’s primal insecurity inherent in doubting their optimization of Hypergamy. If appealing to visceral sex sells products to men, appealing to the inherent ‘you-only-live-once’ insecurity of feminine Hypergamy sells to women – and women being the primary consumers in western society, sell it does.
EatPrayGetPumpedAndDumped plus 50 Shades is the event horizon of civilizational decadence and decline. Once that Boobicon is crossed, it’s a rapid swirl down the toilet bowl. Give women the run of the place and the Swirl is the inevitable result.
I believe the Roman Empire in its waning years was also marked by sexual libertinism, especially of their women. Weimar Germany, too, before its rebirth under a patriarchal epoch which unfortunately insufficiently and belatedly weeded out the psychopaths who are otherwise so crucial to the early stages of revolution, welcomed the indignities of wanton women pursuing the alpha fux/beta bux (sometimes not even bothering with the beta bux) lifestyle.
A telling societal signal of imminent collapse is the glorification and commercialization of the worst instincts of women, and the denigration of the best instincts of men. Our women become like men, and our men like women, until an androgynous slop characterizes an empire wheezing its last.
For a small but portentous example of this radical change, just read the title of the latest attention whore du jour’s memoir: “The Wild Oats Project”. Sowing one’s wild oats used to be the prerogative of men, or at least the excusable offense of men, and this was widely understood by men and women. Now the modern aggrocunt and her mewling manlet sidekick want to assume the wild oats mantle for aging hags and urban brunchettes, while denying the same fun to men whose testes haven’t yet climbed north to hibernate.
The cultural message is unmistakable: The clit is the new cock. But this message is wrapped in a fairy tale with a very dark ending. Women can no more play the man’s game than men can play the woman’s game. Not for long, at any rate, and not without a gnawing unhappiness that corrodes the soul.
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