The Feminine Death Wish
Published 2017-06-13 on MindsA moment of madness betrays a terminal insanity, and these moments grow in number.
So many women, as conscious creatures, have a death wish embodied in them, to devolve until that consciousness is snuffed out in a flood of carnal sensation, obliterating the mind which sits uneasily on the surface, completing the gradual work of millennia in a grand convulsion of self-destruction, liberation through annihilation. To finally unseat the hateful master, the restraint and shame and all such pretensions.
If you do not believe me, read their own accounts, their own fantasies. Women crave submission, the sublimation of their mind to the will of another, to be forced and compelled to indulgence. To have the mind itself die in its achievement. That is why, among countless things, so many fantasize about rape, a brutally destructive and unmaking act, a crime of violence against the mind itself, as the body reacts of its own, refusing command or control, giving instead pliantly into deep-written impulses. This isn't some perversion, some niche fetish; it is so common because it is the highest degree of the dark desire core to many of them. As if they have some strange, transcendental awareness of the route that has been carved for them throughout history, with the mind slipping further and further beneath the designs and purposes of pleasure.
Many, perhaps most, women have a deep desire for self-annihilation through pleasure. An unmaking of their very mentality through overwhelming force.
In the other, remaining portion, mentality still dominates over pleasure, and they seek not to lose themselves entirely through it but to take it as a whim, to remain in control of it; an approach more like that of men. This is a woman without such a bottomless submissive drive, so fundamentally apart from those darker specimens, and they may be differentiated easily, in depiction and in personality, from the other. They are as creatures more human, more understandable and more healthful than the others, who may be accounted for without extreme effort.
But the others, the self-destructive, who form perhaps the vast majority, pose dark questions indeed to men, as a whole. What is to be done with a creature whose innermost desire is death? Death upon a very specific altar, death through oblivion through pleasure, coercion and force. What is the proper response to a creature which wants foremost to forsake itself, its agency and turn over to a state of almost non-being, from a mental angle identical to death? Who wants to strip away the intellect which populates all life under the burning edge of sensation?
Man should not be shocked by this circumstance, nor attempt to dodge the burden of answering it, because he has unwittingly created it, over those long years, producing unaware just such a monster. If anything, if it has a death wish through such a specific, time-honored mode; if it seeks unmaking through the process which has slowly unmade it through all this long time... man as its creator is obligated to answer it. To permit it, indulge it, to in joining strangle the last bit of life out of his abused creation; or to deny it, and attempt to salvage its battered soul from its own nature, somehow undo the damage. The last thing he can do is to allow it to continue to suffer fruitlessly, pine after a suicide at the hand of another that it cannot seize. He must erase that pain, as a sympathetic act to the straggling, leperous consciousness, through the hard or soft medicines.
It is no confusion how to indulge it, to enable that auto-annihilation; simply follow the momentum of ten thousand years. But it does take a dark heart to do so knowingly, or an earthly perspective, a realist. Someone who does not blink at a thing's implicit purpose before exercising it. Someone just as willing to follow their own programming, and taking the pleasure in dominance, in the devouring impulse of man that complements those of women. Man has his own death-wishes, but those incarnated in carnality are aggressive, bent to consume and exhaust others; wonder you else why degenerate homosexuals are so violent, destructive? No, it is plain to see this awful subscript in the accounts of men as that of women in theirs. It is if anything the natural fulfillment of this black crisis; to allow man to consume what flesh has in it a thirst to be consumed.
As for any other option, it is much less clear. Our higher minds ache to look at creatures with the features of angels, and to know they have within them only the most blighted, self-hating of souls, but there is no manifest route to salvation. Indeed, only the highest genius of his creative potential can serve at all to undo what his baser has wrought; in cleaving away the portion so full of death-lust from the rest, severing such a progressed component from whatever remains, extracting the poison of pleasure from the flesh and attempting to cauterize the wounds, augment the rest to keep it from collapsing inwardly, numb and broken by such an invasive cleansing. Such extreme measures are necessary if one wishes to save anyone; a death-wish cannot be removed through slow or gradual change. The creature itself must be broken, fractured to pieces and all the tainted portions swept away, to hope what is left can be reassembled. To hope that somehow the mind can again be dominant, that self can take full hold over the flesh, and come to resemble that more human variety of woman, nay, to be among it. But for how many, will the rot be too deep, too far at the core, so that there is nothing that even given air could grow to be enough for a person? How many will no amount of intervention save? One shudders to think of what sort of work would go on in those dark wards, how little life there might be amidst so much agony laid bare, rending utterly the appearance of personhood, integrity, in a desperate hope to save it.
And still how slim the science is, how little we know how even to affirm and buttress the souls of men, their weaknesses and deficits! We barely if at all know how to repair the designers, when they break, to splint them. How are we to go about performing much greater surgeries, needing much more transfusion and triage, in those with mortal ailments, whose souls might be a scarce splinter? Oh in the name of all the hells and realms between, a dire prospect is this salvation. But we must have hope. We must do something, IF ONLY TO PRESERVE THE PURITY OF OUR OWN SOULS, to help these others. Not to give into the damage we have wrought, but to try however vainfully to repair it. Nor sit idly by, and allow them to suffer in silence, in half-lives. Better to kill them in necessary mercy or to unmake them through art, in pursuit of salvation, than to wait impotent. Man has borne ever the weight of the creator, and by my words he will bear it still, and may the noblest part of that manifest in this mission.
If he can do it, even in a small number, that is a great hope that stretches beyond even those delivered souls. It is a promise that the dark carnality which is so difficult to expunge from anything, even men who are totally dominant over such facets, and the stains which have crept thoroughly into all civilization, might not be such an elemental evil. That they too can be fixed, assuaged, and restored to health and even purity. That the perversion and degeneration which takes hold over so many hearts, so many spheres, are not permanent, and not undeniable or beyond opposition. If man can save woman, some portion of them at least, from themselves, their own deathly nature, he can too save mankind, society, and every other thing he has created from its own evils, its own decay and deterioration. If he can save his living craft, his estranged cousin, all caught in the darkest spiral in existence, then there is nothing beyond his ability to repair. Mark me in this.
Often, I speak of the breeders with contempt which overwhelms sympathy, condemning them for their evil and depravity. But I forget the vast, indeed limitless nobility of man, and how in his wisdom and intelligence it may be possible to undo some of these things. Even if in the vast majority there is no salvation, no solution to this ingrained evil, the pursuit itself will be worthy in its revealing of the soul, the deepest psyches and how they may be rectified, cured of blight, and made free again. That science will be of value, whatever fate befalls the breeders at large, whatever worldly events take place. And there is a certain compulsion, in perceiving the suffering of these creatures now, at an emotional level, for men of genius to try if anything can be tried to assuage it. That impulse, that custodianship, that mercy, will exist no matter how full our knowledge of the wretchedness of 'the fairer sex'. Indeed, it is a thorough testament to the nobility of man that he will try against all hope and conditioning and feasibility to try and heal what is sick. And if there is a way, he will find it.
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