At 17

Men have biographies, women have grandchildren. But show me a man who had willingly forgone fatherhood but not sex, and I will show you a man with something queer about him.

At seventeen, you figure out the general direction you want your life to take and you start to make choices with regards to the type of education, work, and interests that are best for you. At seventeen, you know whether you want to go to college, vocational training, into the military, entry-level work, self-employment, or to cut loose for a while and you take steps toward those goals. At seventeen, life opens before you an exciting vista of possibilities. You walk through one door, which means that you forgo others. That is how you become a man.

But what about one significant decision you will make in life… women, sex, having your own family — do you have a plan? In earlier comments, Mendo shines the light at the modern sexual market:

What that one Brit hooker said about some of her clients being good looking fellas: that the price of ass is so high and the quality so low that men would rather rent it than buy. He’s not far off in saying that. It was the “quality so low” line that stood out, which is what many of the comments on here mention -– the unkempt, sloven nature of women nowadays.

Does that describe the sex market once you get out of high school? A thirty-something commenter over at Chateau Heartiste convincingly presents himself as an urbane Alpha. Back in the day, guys like him scored top-shelf poon. He describes his recent sexual encounter. The comment has to be read in full to appreciate what awaits you in an environment where quality women are locked-in young and much of what’s left is… the Wall of Fat.

You may often see a “curvy” or overweight girl and think, “hmm, maybe it wouldn’t be too bad.” I’ve learned the hard way that there’s nothing pleasant about the (full)figurative “pleasantly plump” girl.

Take one example. One target, looks cute enough, well manicured, but, with the carefully cropped face pics, I knew something was up(sized).

I meet her at her hotel room (foreign city, there on business, which I’d gathered from our texting, an easy fuck I surmised). She opens the door and sure enough, nice looking girl, perfect hair and makeup, but a spare tire around the waist, thick thighs, big arse, and (the saving grace of tonight’s shew, massive rack). Of course, she’s wearing all black, more flattering, you see.

We stroll through the mall connected to the hotel, eat dinner (naturally), drink a bottle of grape, and stroll a bit more. She invites me up; it’s an ultra modern hotel with sweeping views of the city lit up at night, the desert beyond. Lots of stainless steel. The place is a disaster, shoes everywheres.

At this point, I really didn’t care any more and grabbed her huge bum and threw her on the unmade bed. Then she tells me her mother is staying with her and will be back soon and we need to hurry.

Now I get to the point of the story: I pull her top off, slide the pants off, take the heels and throw them across the room. Once the reinforced bra straps have been let go, the large, majestic empire of tits crashes and collapses to a sagging defeat. The butt, buttressed by leggings (aka exterior girdle) is suddenly no longer firm and perky, but a big, jumbled mess.

She flips on her stomach, presumably to hide the belly from sight, and tells me to pound her. Pound her I do, but it’s not as perfumey fresh as when the evening started.

Not my worse lay, but not great either, in fact it had many pratfalls. One of my more louche moments.

Sorry I had to do that, gentlemen, but it’s important that those of you in the studio audience know exactly what you’re up against (a wall of fat, if you must know), should you spot a “thick” girl and think, “oh, I’m sure it’ll be fun, just like on TV.”

She came back a few weeks later, and, having no other options living in a literal and figurative desert, did it again.

So, if an Alpha gets THAT^^^ . . .

What I’m telling you, is this: If you’re 18 or thereabouts and you have a slim, pleasant girlfriend of your own racial and cultural background in high school and you respect her family, then put buns in her oven right away. You two have the best it’s going to get. Have a plan, marry her, secure your and her parents’ commitment to help you financially.

Or re-read the Wall of Fat anecdote. It’s said that women are best-off cashing in their commitment chips at a young age because they are at peak beauty. What is never pointed out is that young men are at peak access to pretty girls with unspoiled personality. You’ll be more attractive at 35 and possibly even at 50 than you are now but you’re not gonna be swooping high schools at that age. There are trade-offs in life: you can have a healthy start on building your family as you enter adulthood. Or gamble with fortunes as you put off your search and commitment to a quality woman in an environment that corrupts girls as they enter adulthood. Choose one door or the other.

The biggest trade-off: vigor in youth, wisdom in older age. Traditionally, “young dumb & full of cum” newlywed men had fathers, dad’s friends, uncles and grandfathers around for guidance, help and correction. One of the overarching things I press on the importance of, is geographically coherent community and extended family.

I really like this comment by MGE:

I thank God my parents had me when they were very young, 22 I believe. They both came from large midwest Catholic families where that was just the norm. They didn’t have much money, but made it work. No fancy wedding, no engagement ring, no honeymoon. Mom worked at a Piggly Wiggly while my dad finished his education. We lived in cockroach infested apartments in the rust belt. Instead of daycare I was cared for by extended family and occasionally less than savory baby sitters.

I got to enjoy my parents when they were young and full of life and optimism. I have great memories of the wild parties they would throw. As me and my siblings grew older, they kept a “hands off” approach, which is just what they were used to growing up. Instead of keeping a tight leash on me, they trusted the church, which I was deeply involved with, to shape my moral development.

Plumpjack offers a sound second opinion:

It seems to me that women are very amenable to having children when relatively young, 16-20, but that once they hit early 20s they begin to believe the propaganda. I.e., “oh grow up from your fantasy, little girl. NO woman should be dependent on a man for survival!”, and from that point forward become increasingly difficult to lock down… until they hit 35, at which point they are almost all either damaged beyond repair or too old to inspire a solid man to invest everything into her.

So it seems that it would behoove a young man to lock down his high school or college GF with extreme prejudice. But there’s a catch.

We’ll get to what the catch is in a moment. For now, keep in mind that how you got her is how you’ll keep her — by choosing a good one and staying in the driver’s seat in the relationship. Plumpjack gets to what the catch is:

Young guys don’t understand unleashed hypergamy and all of its hideous permutations and implications. Without sufficient field experience he may not be able to handle his wife as she ages. She may mature faster than he does. What if they have daughters? Will he be able to keep THEM under control? Will he have a strong enough pimp hand, if he’s only ever been with the love of his life?

Remember how you got her? It wasn’t by being a sap. It was through your charm and the fact that you have a backbone. It’s a common male mistake to think that now that the relationship is “official” you can put firmness and Game aside and let her rule the roost. You were her first, you taught her everything, she needs you to stay the boss.

He continues:

I believe that having field experience over and above that of his woman is a necessary component for creating a stable family, particularly in these complicated, dark times. Perhaps the ideal pairing is a guy in his mid- to late 20s, with a woman not much older than 21.

Field experience has its up-sides but you strike the iron when it’s hot. Pussy paradise with bright-smiling leggy vixens ripe for picking was an accident of history, a 1970s hiccup made by a baby boom, homogeneity, and prosperity. Free love had its run but it could never last because demand outpaces supply. Mystery Method of the 2000s was its last gasp — and that was before tats, storied sexual history, and obesity disfigured just about every young single woman you’ll meet. I work in an office right next to a bar district, I see nightlife as it crawls out on a Friday evening when I happen to leave work late. Ungainly thighs and baggy tits, all wrapped in tight fabric and attitude like a turd-tiara. That’s pussy for the above-average man after you get out of high school, boys.

Mankind always returns to virgin marriage as the norm, both men and women. That’s what we’re back to. Unless you wish to play your odds against the Wall of Fat.

Men have biographies, women have grandchildren. And no man’s biography is complete until he plants his seed. Do it now and you have your whole life to live with a wife who matured in your image and children who will grow faster than you expect and in whose eyes you can be the greatest man that ever lived long after you’re gone. At seventeen, you may or may not understand that there is no truer pride than having a son. You certainly aren’t imagining doing fun stuff with him when he’s 21 years old and a young father like you once were, all of this while you’re still strong and energetic. Trust your gut, that’s how it’s supposed to be.

Your great-great-grandfather was a better man than most of us alive today. Your great-great-grandmother was a better woman than most women alive today. You and your girlfriend can light that fire anew. Plant your first seed now and don’t ever stop being fruitful according to the gifts with which you are blessed.

FS1

Your great-great-grandfather cleared the soil
Your great-grandfather worked the soil…

Your great-great-grandmother had 14 children
Your great-grandmother had almost as many…

As for you, my friend
What are you doing with your night?
Turn off your TV
Don’t stay all cooped up
Thankfully some things in life will never change
Line up your nicest clothes
Because tonight we’re going dancing.


 

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55 thoughts on “At 17

  1. The headwinds are an F4.
    Kids today exist in a world we simply do not understand…or at least I don’t. I can’t imagine being exposed to hard-core, explicit pornography at age 11, a maturity level BEFORE I was aware that girls menstruate. I can’t imagine living when “Selfie” was added to the lexicon, and girls all do “duck face” in their mirrors, APING THE FACIAL EXPRESSIONS OF PORN ACTRESSES GETTING POUNDED.

    I can’t imagine being young and utterly drowning in messages of extreme hedonism, where “prime time” TV shows celebrate faggots as “soccer dads” (they don’t YET show the “thoughtful” reach-around) and show how fun it is to fuck our way through the phone book with one serial intimacy after another…and call it “how I met your mother” (who was hooking on 11th street, don’t ‘cha know.)

    Each moment of every day people are told to PUT OFF ADULTHOOD, to exist instead in a perpetual fog of adolescence because the impulsive mindedness that results is the PERFECT condition to sell people useless pre-landfilled junk in container-ship load quantities.

    Nature used to cull people mercilessly, mostly by cutting down babies and toddlers and small children like wheat in the fields. Now that we’ve largely stopped that, Pop Culture found a way to cull humans by getting the adults to so thoroughly fuck up family formation and reproduction that entire pussy-hatted or video-game/porn-addicted bloodlines will never see the next generation.

    Healthy American society used to not-so-figuratively beat the life out of people who indulged in vice or offered it on the market. Now the government RUNS the numbers racket (lotteries), enables the life-crushingly expensive bordellos we call Universities and practically subsidizes the free availability of femtobytes of video pornography. What’s next, a Bernie-bro promising a sexbot in every bedroom?

    What a cesspool in which to try to raise kids to adulthood.

  2. “Perhaps the ideal pairing is a guy in his mid- to late 20s, with a woman not much older than 21.”

    Like Plato or whoever said, the ideal combination for a man is his age divided by four plus seven.

  3. Whenever feeling down in the autumn, nurse a couple frigid Dogfish Head Punkin Ales in the open air; fondly remember your 17th year — that version of yourself would want you to keep soldiering on and to ‘outdo’ him in morale, inquisitiveness, and every form of strength.

  4. ^^^ that’s a joke, and directly contra to the spirit of PA”s original post.

    I don’t advocate for mismatched marriages like that.

  5. My only quibble with your approach is when you assume the grandparents-to-be must be involved in subsidizing family formation. This may be necessary, but only as a last resort. I watch the Serb and Albanian and Laotian immigrants live, four generations to a house, but that’s not how Americans do it, not unless there’s an “oops.”

    I told my sons while they were teens that biology is fickle; a married couple in their 30’s might have massive difficulties producing a child, but a 15 year old girl could get pregnant just by sitting in a seat recently vacated by a 15 year old boy. (Yes, I kidded…only slightly.)

    I further told them (and this was when I was in my late 30’s!) that I would move Heaven and Earth to avoid seeing a grandchild of mine aborted, even paying a girl serious money to persuade her to nurture her uterus-bound baby. I said that being choosy was key, however, because I didn’t want them to make a baby with some bat-shit crazy bitch and put me in the position of having to wrap 30 lbs of chain around her and drop her in a lake to protect my grandchild from its own mother. (I jest. “ish”) My point was, the most expensive sex on the planet is that offered freely by a pretty young thing with bats in her belfry. Don’t screw a girl just because she offers you her pretty self on a platter.

    I told them that in 1960 if a girl got pregnant out of wedlock she ran a good chance of being turned out by her own family, she’d be fired from her job (if she had one) and be kicked out of college (if she attended.) A girl had a HUGE disincentive to giving herself away for free. Not any more. Now, it’s the boy who has to overcome his testosterone-fog impulses and turn DOWN offers of physical intimacy, though they seem utterly irresistible.

    Had my sons found girls in H.S. and had a biological “surprise,” we’d have helped…obviously. None found a girl that early, and two had to resort to drift-net fishing (via eHarmony) to find decent wives, but all are married, have good occupations, mortgages and (above all) kids. I’m blessed to be young enough to get down on the floor and play with grandchildren while I watch acquaintances my age with kids as young as 12 (!!)

    I understand much today that I didn’t know 30 years ago. Most of the “lessons” my sons learned about what life to choose (the common life of marriage & kids vs the pyrite reward of single-minded focus on occupation/fame/celebrity) came from watching their mother and me revel in the life we lived (and live.) I married my H.S. sweetheart. I have photos of her at 17 in a bikini. I have memories of every stage of her life from mid-teens forward, with me there too. Neither of us recalls much of life that didn’t include “us.” Yes, I was lucky…I met a bright, pretty girl early, one whose goal was marriage and kids. Our life together was a study in complementary strengths and mutual dependence. While today’s messages scream “be independent” 24/7, reality is that happiness is a side-effect of a life of inter-dependence, of maintaining an encyclopedic dialog between husband and wife, of pouring all of our time into the vessel of our marriage and family (which means sparing next to none for less-important relationships.)

    The grass isn’t greener on the other side of the fence. It’s greener where you water it.

  6. Last note: Everything we do becomes a part of us. EVERYTHING.
    Kids hit the stage of being able to make deal-breaker decisions by 13, maybe even 12 (esp. for girls.)

    If they don’t KNOW (to their marrow) why serial physically-intimate relationships are a mistake, and can accumulate quickly to deal-breaker levels, odds favor disaster.

    Why are they a mistake?
    Hypothetical: Adam is tall, handsome and charming. He “dates” around from 17 on, and by the time he’s 22 and graduating with a B.S. he has “enjoyed” relationships with five girls, Betty, Carol, Deena, Erin and Felicity. While each girl was pretty and fun, none of them were quite his match. Of course, he had sex with all of them.

    Betty had a rockin’ bod and early-on was down to F anywhere, anytime. Adam recalls all kinds of wild sex-on-the-beach kinds of things. Carol could rock her hips in ways that…well…kept Adam amused and musing later. Deena had the tightest ass on the planet, Erin’s pillow-talk was like audible Viagra and Felicity (of course) could suck-start a leaf-blower. Several of the women behaved like they got their acts from watching porn. (And YES, it’s an ACT. They were trying to put their faces on Adam’s every subsequent orgasm…AKA he was being PLAYED.)

    Adam eventually married Gail. Guess what? Each time their life hits some bumps (his work, her work, then when the kids come along and she’s up half the night and tired all the time, or her parents are a pain in the butt, or a thousand other ways life can be annoying at times) Adam’s memory serves up a fond image of one of those past intimate encounters. He recalls that the woman he sees as his best sexual experience ever is not his wife.

    Memory is a funny thing. It tends to strip out the negatives (after all, Adam didn’t stay with any of those past girls…either he or–far worse–they broke off the relationship) and leave only the good stuff. Only now that “good stuff” looks better than his REAL LIFE. Fantasy becomes the standard by which Adam evaluates his happiness quotient. He might as well compare his sex life to the “performances” in a porn vid.

    What a TOXIC condition. Imagine if Gail, too, has the same kinds of memories of physical intimacy with other men.

    How long before they get divorced?

    The solution? Recognize that having NO memories to compare to is far healthier. Both husband and wife have to KNOW, to their bone marrow, that the 24/7 Infomercial selling “your best shag may be the next One Night Stand” is a LIE, and that the best sex there is arises from deep commitment, devoted love for the other and utter trust. Sex isn’t rocket science. Husbands and wives can explore its mysterious adventure together under the shade of trust that only comes from inter-dependence and expectation of PERMANENCE. If you’re not still discovering additional fun stuff (nothing painful or distasteful, please) decades into marriage YOU’RE DOING IT WRONG.

    tl;dr Sex is never casual. It always leaves memories. Those memories are poison because they WILL arise out of the actual context.

  7. Good Morning, boys! About that wall of fat. At least the rotund young woman described at Chateau Heartiste by the “Alpha” male could perform with her presumably slender & fit self-righteous jerk without undue effort.

    When I was in my 20s and early 30s, 95% of the men I saw, anywhere & everywhere, were slender to normal. Now? I could walk hither & yon for hours and not see a white man of any age whose stomach I wouldn’t have to lift (with much effort) to find his sex organ. They are so ungainly and un-ergonomic that (I suspect) sex would be highly contrived and difficult if not outright dangerous. Lack of overall attractiveness would hardly be the main issue.

    I’d be mildly interested in hearing back from Herr Alpha in, say, 15 years or so. Bitter old bachelor, worn out, hormones so messed from daily alcohol he needs boner pills. But, hey, he’s nice ‘n’ skinny!

    I’m a woman, approaching old age, married w/kids, been thru the grinder. Still not bad looking. And full of pity for just about everyone.

    [This isnt an article about male shortcomings. — PA]

  8. Pingback: At 17 | Reaction Times

  9. And YES, it’s an ACT. They were trying to put their faces on Adam’s every subsequent orgasm…AKA he was being PLAYED.)

    Ah, so you are the great d.c.s— returned to us from, seemingly, the dead. We’ve missed you. I wondered…

    I’m glad you’re not dead. I feared it. Always enjoyed your comments here, and there, and elsewhere.

    Young marriage is the goal for more people than anyone might think, but then you get the POZ &co. screwing it all up. My husband, like me, had a(n) overlong relationship from high school on that dragged out as each person was told to Make Something Of Him/herself. Not necessarily by parents. I stayed in mine, too long. He joined the service and she moved 13 states away, so it ended. He rode the poosy train, while I couldn’t see eight years of writing on the wall.

    It’s not always perfect. I really wish it could be. This increased techno-focus is not good. I’m glad to connect with like minded people, here and other places, but the Village is the nucleus. We aren’t global beings.

    You contradict yourself a bit, Deter. Grandparents, either explicitly or implicitly, give support to their legacy. We don’t have to live four generations to a household to have a lasting connection to our family via material and social support.

    My maternal grandmother grew up in Newark, NJ, in a three-story brownstone her father, a Polish immigrant, bought with money he made from rum-running. Criminality, it’s a family trait! She lived on the second floor after she was married; my mom and her brother tell me stories about how Dziadzia would get mad if they splashed water “down the alley” and would drop stuff off the staircase just to see it hit below.

    I knew Dziadzia (say jAH-jAH) when I was young. He was a hard man, but a good one, and he gave his kids and grandkids, and the few great grandkids who knew him, protection, modest assistance, a modest inheritance, and a stern upbringing. You needn’t live 30 to a home for that. Just be willing to offer what is needed, when it is needed.

  10. Good Morning, boys! About that wall of fat. At least the rotund young woman described at Chateau Heartiste by the “Alpha” male could perform with her presumably slender & fit self-righteous jerk without undue effort.

    By my reading it took some considerable effort.

    It was a great rl sex description post by whomever.

    ***********************

    Everyone smells to some degree but unhealthy people smell worse.

    Intimacy with someone who isn’t healthy is like eating sandwiches at the picnic table in a garbage dump. It’s like yeah ok but.

    In defense of not-young women, it can be said that age reveals those who have long-term health, which requires something more than the mere fleeting beauty of youth.

  11. Good Morning, boys! About that wall of fat. At least the rotund young woman described at Chateau Heartiste by the “Alpha” male could perform with her presumably slender & fit self-righteous jerk without undue effort.

    Also, why the quotation marks around Alpha?

    Will Fangirl be so helpful as to provide for and wherewithin the context of our concern, a working definition of what is Alpha, and how the behavior and escapade in question meets or does not, said definition?

  12. Tigers don’t change their stripes, do they Chakrates? (wry smile.)

    No, not dead, but chastised. A man’s got to learn his limitations, and 2018 has been that for me.
    And boy, do I love them grandkiddies. You’re absolutely right. And I also concur, we all have to make the most of what we have to work with.

  13. Fangirl has the stink of a commenter who has tried to stir pots on other blogs, of people I know personally. Has even impersonated their alts.

    I don’t like it.

    Deter, so glad to have you back. Your comments over the years have been illuminating in many ways.

  14. Some of us missed the boat. There was a post a few years ago in the Christian manosphere, back when that still existed, on the topic. What happens to the men in this environment who never had that high school sweetheart? I am 30, and the closest I ever got to that sort of girl left me when I left for the Marines.

    There is no high school girl waiting for me, or men like me. I am in college now, and it is a desert. It seems like most all of the girls have gotten out of high school and have already been used up, or are not interested in anything serious. Not to mention that my field is a nearly all male program.

    I know what I need to do. I know how to do it. Finding her is the hard part. Of all of the women I have met in the past decade, I have known two that might have been marriage material. One was underage, and I got sabotaged with the other, who went on to marry her first boyfriend. About my only hope now is to find a nice Gen Zyklon girl who has not been corrupted, but how do you find them when the age difference is over a decade and growing?

  15. At the age 30, the age difference is negligible.

    Like Plato said, divide by 4 and add 7: that equals 14-and-a-half. (almost legal in most states)

  16. My age is upper 40s. The vast majority of girls, or women, who are single and available and “age appropriate” seem pretty damaged, if looks and demeanor and outward appearance are anything to go by.

  17. The original topic of the post, is that young men should partner up at a young age and start their families then.

    I should have ended up with that nice young girl from camp. I was 14 and so was she.

    But I wasn’t ready to be a man then AND HERE’S THE THING: NO ONE MADE ME.

    So that’s kind of the theme that needs addressed.

    Can you really become at age [young age] because it’s good advice?

  18. I wasn’t able to. I still struggle with it.

    The secret to being a man is simply, that you have to do it every day.

    Every day you have to suit up and pretend. Some people are more convincing than others, but most are pretending to some degree or another.

    There’s a caveat to that though, in that the game of pretend exists solely in the upper reaches of self-consciousness and not at all in the lower parts of the brain.

    I almost had a profound thought about that earlier. It’s like there has to be an allowance for the entirety of your group’s experience, in your shared mythos.

    Our shared belief system has to account for everything that we experience. If our experience isn’t accounted for within our mythos, then said experience is meaningless and might as well not exist.

    That ties back into the depression that’s going around and the general sense of purposeless-ness.

    That sense of being a failure because you’re not Donald Trump or have a great career. Is it a stretch, to say that that sense of purposeless-ness, has to be justified within the mythos of an integrated people, for them to be alive?

  19. “There’s a caveat to that though, in that the game of pretend exists solely in the upper reaches of self-consciousness and not at all in the lower parts of the brain.”

    That’s not exactly right. There’s an element of pretend in the lower reaches of the brain: gangsters call it fronting and animals call it bluffing.

    The pretend taht I’m talking about that’s solely in our self-conscious awareness is of a different sort. We call it self-doubt, is what it’s been known as since Hamlet.

    I’m trying to spend more time in the amygdala just being a content animal, rather than a self-doubting person with deep thoughts that add up to not much.

  20. One more comment.

    It’s totally off topic and I will shut up after this.

    Self-doubt is not really ever resolved, for domesticate humans having to live in overcrowded ratland circushouse. 90 plus per cent of people exist are not bouncers on the LA scene or walk-ons to Div I schools, and pretending otherwise is not much help.

    That’s what I got from the Wasteland and having to wear rolled-up trousers to fend off feelings of nobody-ness. You feel like nobody because you ARE nobody.

    Maybe going on missions would help. It probably would.

  21. Self-doubt is not really ever resolved… You feel like nobody because you ARE nobody. — Elk

    This is, simply put, a self-annihilating ethos. And Elk would be wise to recognize “it” as such even if he cannot, ultimately, reject “it.”. To deny a unique reality at such a fundamental level — not only doubting “self,” but asserting “nobody” — cannot be anything other than purely degenerating. In fact, if one was of a demonic gaslighting bent, “doubt self” and “nobodiness” would be the primary mechanisms to subvert the individual’s otherwise very solid uni-verse. His story, slow-to-peek.

  22. Shortly after I turned 17 I got kicked out of foster care. Because my social worker was a feminist cunt who hated white males and she basically made up false allegations based on misleading half-truths to justify her treatment of me, and as soon as I turned 17 she could get away with it. I was a pretty damn good kid – at least relative to the demographic of teenagers in Care.
    (I know my Social Services file is full of lies but the government refused to let me see it when I requested it in defiance of the law that said that I had a right to access it as an adult.)

    I went for 3 weeks without eating.
    I was expelled from high school because I was homeless and I couldn’t get out of the place I was squatting without being caught and make it to class on time.
    The funding of my prescriptions through the government was cut off and I went into withdrawls of the bullshit psychiatric meds the Jewish Psychiatrist had put me on and I was irrationally paranoid and depressed for several months before that garbage got cleaned out of my system.

    Where I was from (this is similar all over the west) until 16 you are legally a child and someone has to take care of you, but you don’t gain the rights of an adult until you are 19.

    But when you’re 17 and 18 you’re in that hole where you’re not legally a child, or an adult. You’re not a real person. If you don’t have a stable home with a good Mommy and Daddy to stand up for your rights, you have none. You could walk up to a 17 year old street kid and beat him half retarded with a crowbar in front of 50 people, and there’s nothing he could do. Because he doesn’t get the right to file charges as a human being until he’s 19, but he lost the right to a guardian who is obligated to do so on his behalf on his 17th birthday.

    It was when I was 17 that I decided to go for the the safest, most stable career I could get into and marry the first girl I was sure wouldn’t fuck on me. I chose to forgo the adventure of youth, and it was a horrible decision which I regret dearly.

  23. shadowedknight: There is no high school girl waiting for me, or men like me.

    Ain’t that the truth. It would be nice if we could just have a violent revolution and take our wives back by force from the system, but there’s nothing to take, as they’ve already been ruined.

    But I came to realize, we’re White men. When faced with hardship and scarcity, we dickslap reality across the cheek and flip the board, because that’s just who we are. I have a dream better than any alcoholic Communist Congoid can come up with; In the short term we can create sexbots to reduce our neediness and get us out from under women’s heel, until we gain the nation we need to survive. Then we can clone replacements. No prob. I mean who the hell do progressives think they’re fucking with anyway?

  24. Chakrates, one embarrassment vis-à-vis the blogosphere is that because I (like everyone else) am proud of the things I’ve done right and (like any wise person) keep my mistakes/defects to myself, I undoubtedly come across as an arrogant pr–k. I should begin any comment with an apology. I will not publicize my many regrets so there’s no visible counterbalance, but it exists.

    The subject of the OP reads (to me): “What should a 17 year old know?” I concur with the theme of other comments, that this is excruciatingly difficult because at 17 we’re (boys and girls) really not capable of “knowing” most of what passes for wisdom later. Hell, at 17 I’d just given up trying to see how fast my dad’s Dodge Polara would go with the accelerator flat on the floor (answer: about 110 on the speedometer, on tires and suspension never meant for it.) Wisdom with regard to life, girls, occupation, etc.? Hell, I was 25, married with a kid, a mortgage and two car payments before I pulled my head out of my ass…95% (the last 5% took another 30+ years to remove, or so I hope.)

    I believe wise parenting revolves around helping the kids avoid the pitfalls and face-plants one did in adolescence. I told my sons about the errors I made that weren’t intensely personal, admonishing them to find their own mistakes, don’t repeat mine. As far as I know, they did so [but I am astonished to find that grown offspring are (shocking!) their own people, and as time passes they actually do become ever-more strangers. I really don’t know all that much about their lives–with is axiomatic because the only people I know pretty well are my wife and myself, and I’m still sussing out the latter.]

    I guess where I’m at now regarding the “At 17” is this:
    –begin at 12/13 discussing the two basic kinds of life there are to choose.
    –discuss the concept of “deal-breakers,” actions/events/choices one can make that wall off future paths, and why to put off such choices when it’s possible. Keep the doors of the future open.
    –help kids discover and develop their aptitudes.
    –encourage them to understand that life is lived in stages, and that this stage will end and turn into the next.
    –show them (by example) that this life is well worth living, challenges and all.
    –life is easier/better tackled in partnership; the highs are higher, the lows less low.
    –cultivate courage by reframing rejection as not personal.
    –life is fun, but it’s not casual. Nothing about life is casual.
    –time is the one thing you can’t buy, multiply or add. How you spend the finite moments of your life is literally the definition of you. Try not to squander too much of it.
    –Have. A. Plan.
    –You don’t have to do it all the same way everyone else is doing it. (Favorite example: Son#3, who started community college night school at 15, long before it became “fashionable,” and graduated college with a BS in comp. sci at 20, using the university’s own rules “against” it to rip the degree from them ‘on the cheap.’)

    Any 17 year old who has embraced even 30% of the foregoing has a massive advantage.

  25. great comments here.

    “Any 17 year old who has embraced even 30% of the foregoing has a massive advantage.”

    knowledge, or rather, the lack of it, is as much the cause of delayed marriage as is the overabundance of temptation. when you’re spiritually, emotionally, and financially on your own in your teens, as many young men are, then you have to build the foundation for your life from scratch. that can take years.

    I could write a longer piece about this and will at a future time. in short, the spiritual bankruptcy of previous generations gets passed down in certain bloodlines and communities, and only a few young men and women in those situations can overcome that handicap to build a decent life.

    a man starting from that position might be wise to put off marriage and kids in order to have something more worthwhile to pass on to his kids, rather than continue to repeat the deficiencies of his ancestors. if plays his cards right and doesn’t squander his power, he’ll still have plenty of options later in life. it’ll be different than the norm, sure, but that’s not unusual for our species.

    humans live on average into their late seventies. how would this be possible if not for late stage pairings?

    thanks, PA.

  26. plumpjack, Darwin is an asshole. He and his mom Nature used to kill most children for sport. Some people greatly reduced that, so he found a way to get “adults” to screw-up their reproduction in other ways (pathological altruism, hedonism, spiritual poverty, perpetual adolescence, etc.) such that ever-increasing numbers of people are terrible parents who have themselves placed great obstacles in front of their kids’ reproductive success.

    My wife is a 4th grade teacher. Imagine how bad you think the upcoming generation is, then increase your worst case by an order of magnitude. You think college students in need of safe spaces is bad? Imagine an entire cohort of children even more emotionally crippled than that, who at 9 years of age are already habituated to a world that enables each and every one of their weaknesses. We have lived in Plenitude too long; the results are Idiocracy as far as the eye can see, a world of “Ow, My Balls” entertainment and “Brawndo” commercialism, ruled by people with the intellects and emotions of President Comacho.

    No wonder I can’t recall the “First Baby of the Year” in local hospitals being either white OR born to married parents.

  27. The family who raises their kids well, and whose kids take full advantage of that leg up, will be as gods to those who surround them. Given we cannot change the world or even much of the environment in which we live, this is about the best we can hope for.

  28. Interestingly enough, I always knew I wanted to be a father. At first, it was “seemed” like it was a surface-deep sentiment (to use a bad phrase: something you’re supposed to do.)

    Well fast forward once i took the red pill and got to “know myself” as cliched as that sounds that for me it was something I wanted to become. Each year after that was a matter of bettering myself and as a Christian, making sure I align my path with God’s, though I do stumble, and thankfully, not as much.

    I was reminded this weekend of how great it was I didn’t drink the kool-aid and do what all my “friends” did–for them, following the “they say” philosophy. When one does not have the rock foundation of faith, everything “they say” sounds excellent.

    It was all a bad sitcom watching everyone interact. The buddy I visited always had the herd mentality, always telling me “get used to it” whenever I’d tell me about my preferences in women and how that’s dwindling. In other words: why bother, guy–just settle.

  29. I have tremendous admiration for those who do a good job in their personal struggle to have a family and children. As goes the saying,

    The child is father to the man

    It’s interesting to hear about though, such fathers who do not necessarily take the reins and rule the roost, such as in a bad sitcom where the mother hen is in charge.

  30. PUA can’t sustain a man, into maturity. Give me a break.

    A fine balance of senescence and bachelorhood is what it is. (less than desirable)

    Most of my peer group from hs, who were on average the better quality, have children.

    People who complain about not having children, de facto have something wrong with them.

    Further, this part of the internet, the as yet to be named heir to the AR, is in essence a Fertility Cult. (h/t Jim of the Fatherland)

    So put up or shut up, right?

  31. I would repeat the point that, what the original post on this thread calls for, is a Rite of Passage. The rite of passage to manhood.

    This idea has been kicked around before, but it’s never really been “resolved”.

    The rites of passage that were emergent in the scaled-out society of our upbringing: what were they?

    They were the subject of Friday Night Lights, but what about Joe Not on the Football Team?

    There was Boy Scouts. Communion?

  32. The “Wall of Fat” comment is stupid, and could only have been written by a pervert. As Benjamin Franklin is supposed to have written, “all cats appear grey in the dark”. Like, good grief.

  33. Deter Naturalist: I (like everyone else) am proud of the things I’ve done right and (like any wise person) keep my mistakes/defects to myself, I undoubtedly come across as an arrogant pr–k. I should begin any comment with an apology.

    You know, I thought I must have missed something other people had picked up. To me, it seems like the anonymity of the internet gives you the freedom to show your weakness as long as you don’t dox yourself. It’s liberating, like, “I dare you to try and judge me for my shortcomings whilst not having any concept of my experience.” Then I can get get answers without hiding who I am and being a fake person, and people can judge me freely without fear of retribution because it’s the internet. Obviously I can’t tell anyone who knows me half of the stuff I say here.

    Don’t other people feel the need to bounce with stuff they can’t talk about with other people so they can grow personally? Fuck if I’m going to talk to some shitlib “therapist”. I’m a sleeper reolutionary for God’s sake. (sorry to Christian host of this blog for using your lord’s name in vain.)

    I figure Elk knows what I mean. Is this wrong? What am I missing?
    And why should you begin any comment with an apology?

  34. Suburban Elk: People who complain about not having children, de facto have something wrong with them.

    Further, this part of the internet, the as yet to be named heir to the AR, is in essence a Fertility Cult. (h/t Jim of the Fatherland)

    So put up or shut up, right?

    Man I don’t think that’s fair.

    I’m decent looking and have a good job, I could knock up some shitty post-wall slag lickity split. But I live under a Politically Correct theocracy where the state intervenes in my family to undermine my authority, so you have to find someone you can trust in a world full of evil, and it just isn’t there.

    That isn’t fair because men aren’t the ones who have any control over reproductive decisions right now and we need to get that freedom back.

    But maybe it’s true even if it isn’t fair. What was “de facto wrong with” me was fatherlessness. Without any men in your life to care about you it’s a lifelong struggle to learn to be a man – I didn’t learn what Feminists and Judeo-Cucktianity wasn’t telling me until it was way too late to do any good.

    Sue me, I’m still pissed off and I’m damn right to be. The system targets us based on our race to undermine our masculinity from childhood, and indoctrinates us with filth and lies about sex and love. Then it enforces Female-supremacist conditions on our families and relationships where we have all the responsibilities and no rights. Fuck that noise, I”m not shutting up. Someone needs to pay for this crap.

  35. Suburban Elk: I would repeat the point that, what the original post on this thread calls for, is a Rite of Passage. The rite of passage to manhood.

    This idea has been kicked around before, but it’s never really been “resolved”.

    The rites of passage that were emergent in the scaled-out society of our upbringing: what were they?

    That was what triggered me to write about my experience at 17-18 as being a non-human between child and adult. In most societies before now, you were a boy, then after x ritual you were a man. I’ve always had a sore spot about this two year period where you have the rights of neither, it’s criminally unjust.

  36. “The system targets us based on our race to undermine our masculinity from childhood, and indoctrinates us with filth and lies about sex and love. Then it enforces Female-supremacist conditions on our families and relationships where we have all the responsibilities and no rights. Fuck that noise, I”m not shutting up. Someone needs to pay for this crap.”

    We’re all going to pay. Sadly. No man is an island, and when your neighbors collectively go batshit insane, there’s no escaping the consequences. In my world I see this life as a One Shot Deal, and when someone gets the short end of the stick it’s a crime…but I also see this life as being fair to no one. Justice is an illusion, Life is Suffering.

    As you allude, this is a theocracy. I’m coming to realize that its main sacrament is actually altruism, and that equalism is simply a side-effect of the Marxist dialectic that, instead of wealth, frames the haves and the have-nots entirely on the basis of victimhood, split ENTIRELY by race and sex.

    The victims/have-nots are all non-whites and women (and faggots/sexual perverts.)
    The “haves” are white men. Period. It’s that simple.

    Look at the frenzy of people to “qualify” for victim status. Steve Sailer talks about Diversity Pokémon Points, but he’s not quite right. It’s Victim Pokémon Points. Look at how finely-tuned are people to playing “Oh, Woe Is Me” or “I need a white-knight, PLEASE HELP!” games. (Ironic, is it not, that they want white men to white-knight. This is the foundation of this warped Marxism, for without active participation from white men, NONE of it would survive.)

    Your history as described is pretty shitty. Same goes for people raised by assholes, or good people whose children die early, or men who had the misfortune to marry a nutcase immersed in today’s Toxic Culture. But this too will pass. It won’t help the individuals harmed by it, though. Each of us is an ant. Nature doesn’t care much about us. If one or another ant gets stepped on, Nature doesn’t even notice. We are left to make the best of whatever it is we have. I try hard not to look at others because I don’t want to get trapped into comparing myself to them. For every place I’d compare well, there would be another where I’d compare poorly, and I don’t need that. YMMV.

  37. Off topic. Daily Stormer has an article up on Jack Black, the once-was celebrity.

    ^^^ this face

    His mom was a Cohen, and his dad smartypants space scientist with an English-derived American surname of Black.

    He has made the decision to go with the jews.

    We would like for some of our celebs to not go with the jews. Aka we need new and better celebrities.

  38. But maybe it’s true even if it isn’t fair. What was “de facto wrong with” me was fatherlessness. Without any men in your life to care about you it’s a lifelong struggle to learn to be a man – I didn’t learn what Feminists and Judeo-Cucktianity wasn’t telling me until it was way too late to do any good.

    Other people can learn from our mistakes. Right?

    I feel conflicted about complaining about my upbringing, because I love and respect my dad, then and now.

    It’s good to be alive today, and have a chance to look forward to tomorrow.

    My dad’s dad was a total asshole, and an alcoholic, and a suicide.

    On the other hand; according to the facts of his bio it sure would seem that in his time he was really something. He was in the front lines in both world wars, and a certified killer at the age of 21 or approximately, in the trenches in Europe. He would talk when drunk about his experiences which were many, including “his first German.”

    Life is a brutal affair, and it doesn’t end well. No one rides for free. There’s a whole list of cliches that are pretty cutting.

  39. War fucks people up. My Grandfather was not really ok with what he had done and seen.

    On the other hand, it’s been suggested recently by Greg Cochran that shell shock should not exist and that it is overplayed. In one of the comments though someone made the suggestion that it is simply the damage from the loud noises and explosions that fucks up people’s heads. It’s not seeing their eyeballs pop out and guts explode — it’s actually just the explosions and the noise, like with a concussion. I think that is a plausible hypothesis, but what do I know.

    My old man in his current house today, had a neighbor who was a total badass. This neighbor was a boomer and ex special forces, and he did muscle work for bike gangs and drug dealers. He had a jaw like Jesse Ventura and that sort of comic book smile. He was, actually, a really nice guy with alignment of chaotic good, but whenever you dealt with him you found yourself smiling like a submissive chimp.

    But this guy would occasionally come over and talk with my dad on his porch after being drunk for days and cry about some shit he did. Specifically having killed kids in Asia, basically. He didn’t feel good about it; he felt bad about it.

  40. Not that Greg Cochran doesn’t have his problems; ffs he believes in the Holocaust.

    The holocaust: what’s next, they’re gonna tell us that the jews didn’t have to jack off their own mothers in order to survive?

  41. Elk, I make no judgments on Black, the person. But his deceased father-in-law was Charlie Haden, one of the great jazz bass players of all time. As far as I know, Haden was not Jewish. Here’s a song that features some of his artistry:

    PS – I am currently writing this dispatch from a village in the hills above a large city in the great country of Italy. It is indescribably beautiful here. I have also noticed that the locals have lost all sympathy for the migrants from Africa and Asia. Even the lefties. More on that later. Until then…

    Cin Cin!

  42. PPS – Apologies for the off-topic comment. I haven’t had a chance to read through most of the posts or comments here from the last week, but from what I’ve seen there is a lot to digest here.

    I’m looking forward to it.

  43. The child is father to the man… — Elk

    Which is to say, the child is actual before his father is real. And every subsequent child brings a different father into this world.

    If white children are not born, patriarchy is dead.

    This is just a cold, hard reality.

    “White men” who eschew children thus forsaking fatherhood are self-annihilators.

    And this isn’t a religious proscription, rather, a materially-validated observation.

  44. — great comments here. (Plumpjack)

    Hell yeah. I unloaded all of my mental energy on this post and refrained from commenting for a day or two because I’d not have added anything interesting. Enjoyed reading along though.

    — The rites of passage that were emergent in the scaled-out society of our upbringing: what were they? (Elk)

    You got me thinking earlier. Also, the point about “is 17 adult-enough to make a baby and not let it be a disaster.” In a way, I was more adult at 12 than I was at 30. Sure, an objection could be made, that my brain wasn’t sex-addled yet at twelve. True, it was just starting to be. I recognized girls as a hot delicious mystery, mostly ones that had my perfect combination of pretty face, fawn-like charm, and vivacious personality. I was serious though at 12. Just left Poland, which was under Martial Law, spent time in an Austrian refugee camp, there was a lot of uncertainty about where we end up, what direction life will take. Knew that I will never see my grandparents or cousins ever again.

    My parents had their hearts set on Canada, but USA was it. Cold War, pre-internet, the move had this feeling of epic permanence. So at twelve, had my new and exciting fantasies about some girl come true and she and I ended up somehow living together under parental support and guidance, but with the privacy and freedom to discover sex together and get wild with it once we got the hang of it… then she got pregnant, would I have been up to the task of fatherhood at 12 or 13, with adult guidance? I think so, yes.

    Now add five years, full physical maturity and some sense in my skull, at 17. Yes.

    If the culture were tribal and not American 1980s Abundance Paradise, no expectations of living it up and all that, yeah. Like I said, I was serious at 12. Careful to make sure I fit in well here, not cause trouble for my parents…

    I adjusted well and all was good, made American friends here instantly (some of them I’m still buds with and they read this blog), but there was a cultural and circumstantial effect on my maturity once I settled in here. In a word, that thing was Frivolity. I became a normal American teenager, and then a young man, and I didn’t get married until my early 30s.

    — I (like everyone else) am proud of the things I’ve done right and (like any wise person) keep my mistakes/defects to myself (Deter Naturalist)

    I always assume that I am one dox away from everybody who ever knew me, including everyone at work, connecting me with this blog. For all I know, a communication technology advancement is right around the corner, that will let anyone see anyone’s entire online record by real name.

    So my approach is, don’t write anything that would embarrass me. How about “get me fired”? LOLLZZZZ, at some point I might have commented somewhere “I support President Trump.” That’s enough to make me unemployable (if I apologize). I don’t care about how Right Wing I write, as long as I try to be honest and follow threads of thought that are grounded in Truth. I just don’t say stuff that would embarrass me or the people I know.

    — it seems like the anonymity of the internet gives you the freedom to show your weakness as long as you don’t dox yourself. It’s liberating, like, “I dare you to try and judge me for my shortcomings whilst not having any concept of my experience.” (Heretic Phi)

    Everyone works through his demons in the way that works for him. I have mine. Talking it out, though, virtual or in person, doesn’t work for me. If your approach is more confessional, that’s great too, as long as you own it. It also helps others who can relate.

    — I am currently writing this dispatch from a village in the hills above a large city in the great country of Italy. (Lothar)

    That’s awesome! Enjoy beautiful Italy. If you feel like putting any current-events-themed observations into a longer article with one or more photos that you’d like me to feature as a guest post, go for it. Just make it a long comment, and include the word “modxyz” to trip my mod filter.

    — Just sent this to my seventeen year old son… I hope he reads it. (Thordaddy)

    That meant a lot to me, TD. I hope he does read it. I meant everything in the original post literally — be serious at 17. Like CBR600RR_Rider (first comment), I’ll give my son the same advice when he’s the right age.

  45. the great country of Italy

    In the immortal words of Christopher Moltisanti —

    “I can’t believe this place, even the skanks are worth fuckin here”

    Is it true or has obesity taken its toll?

  46. That episode from Season 2 where they go back to Italy, is great. It features a cameo from the man himself, David Chase, one of two or three he puts in in the series, and also a bunch of street scenes which were captured live action and authentic, such as the wandering Euromutt dog which is typical of its breed: specifically in its dull tan coloration and un-domesticate up and forward ears.

    The writing in that episode is an example of why it’s said, that the best non-fiction writing of its era, is that show.

    Truly tear inspiring stuff. The theme of Christopher starting to really go down in his own life arc, with the drug addiction problem: he isn’t able to do the things he went to Italy to do, which were to be by Tony’s side, and to see Mount Vesuvius, and to get his gf a gift: he fails in all three but manages to get high.

    Another storyline that is poignant, is Big Pussy’s wife being neglected and having had enough and the scene in the restaurant where she tells Carmella and Roe of her plans to divorce.

  47. I always like to do some anxiety posting before having to leave the house. Fuck.

    In Italy the don’t have as much anxiety because instead they have a country.

  48. If one isn’t envisioning The Land of white (S)upremacy and/or adapting to a most “radically autonomous” environment, he’s just raining tears. And the unconscionable ruthlessness of the demons suffer no thirst.

  49. A response to theshadowedknight, halfway up, regarding “how to find them”…

    You may need to narrow down your prospect pool, and focus exclusively on finding the types that give almost guaranteed success. I succeeded in finding my own hidden gem, of a similar type, but much more circuitously (online). I was mid-twenties when I finally got serious about things, and in a situation similar to yours though I did college before I enlisted. If could give advice to myself at the time, it would be as follows…

    It’s easiest if you’re already Christian, since they’re the types of women that are staples in church nurseries. They’re pretty much an archetype in that realm, the girls who: love children, don’t want to go to college, and tend be introverted or self-defeatingly unambitious regarding men. They are virgins, and many will remain unmarried and virginal into spinsterhood, being devoted aunts to their nieces and nephews and remaining at home to tend their aging parents.

    But their numbers have indeed been declining nationwide, as the average young women in this role is now overweight. This eliminates over half the formerly eligible candidates, making the search more difficult. Ironically, a slightly-overweight but otherwise-excellent candidate with a submissive demeanor is probably more open to frank talk by a potential suitor—about the importance of getting into shape and maintaining it for a future husband—without becoming indignant and tattling to others, poisoning the well at that church. Because it’s definitely true that “fat-shaming” women is lambasted from many pulpits.

    To reiterate, I’m not talking about the typical pseudo-pozzed churchian lass, about to or already wasting away her femininity at college. These are genuinely demure women, where any game beyond “little-sister-teasing” is unnecessary, off-putting, or confusing.

    Example: I visited one of these rural, traditional churches with my newly-minted wife of one month. The service was old-school, featuring classic hymns that made both of us nostalgic for the best times and similar services from each of our childhoods. I personally was impressed with the demographics: entirely white, eight young couples with ever-growing families, and a billion kids overall, etc. We both agreed that the church was a match for us.

    On the drive back, I said to my wife, teasingly: “I’m glad I never thought to attend here a year ago, or we might never have met. There were a bunch of pretty single women there.” This was perhaps unwise of me to say to a still-nervous newlywed, one of the very demeanor I recommend pursuing.

    Rural or semi-rural churches tend to be the best bets. They are borderline reverent of the military, so any fit, presentable bachelor will easily become the top marriageable prospect. Concerned, matchmaking grandmothers and aunts will extend one’s net even further if you make your intentions to marry known to one or two discreet social butterflies. Attend all the services, especially the social events, and it’ll be easy to pinpoint the good girls. In conversation, they have an innate respect for a respectable man, as opposed to the typical snarkiness or skeptical, competitive nature. And they are naturally submissive, and eminently teachable.

    The good girls have been brainwashed into thinking the “right one” with fall into their lap, without them having to engage in any pursuit of their own, or change in their day-to-day social pool. This is both good and bad for the interested man. Bad, because it can difficult to locate each handful (or less) of prospects in each enclave. Good, because they basically take themselves utterly off the mating market, leaving them available for the determined suitor, as long as you don’t wait too long.

    They are rare, but they are there. They are not 9/10’s; and the 7/8’s are have often been locked down by the local talent. But in these dark times, I’d consider it a moral failing for an older, single white man to deny an unsullied 6 a chance to loyally follow you forever.

  50. @Elk and others:

    I read years ago an interview with Jack Black (Jonathan Schwartz?). He spoke of sending his children to Heeb School. He is an active, rather than a crypto, Jew.

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