My name is Scorched Earth Policy and I love beautiful women.
I want to have sex with beautiful women.
This expression is being evaporated by a sinister silent war against male vitality. There was once a time when men could gather around and mutually publicly share this sentiment
I want you to picture a mechanics garage. An old school place where people get their hands filthy and smoke cigarettes. Oil stains on a concrete floor, rusted well worn wrenches. On a particle board shelf with half empty oils & random bolts, a playboy calendar is taped up proudly
In a young boys room during summer of 1997, there is a poster on the wall. In the corner it says Sports Illustrated. An athletic supermodel sits on her hands and knees, sand stains creep up her tanned thighs. She wears a bright bikini and smiles. His whole family has seen it.
These are minor examples of a forgone time in America, western society has once coveted the beautiful woman. The naked woman. Men openly would comment to their cohorts on the excitement they felt when a beautiful woman entered the room. Today there is a distinct shame to sex.
I'm sure your first objection will be, "Scorch! Sexuality is more open than ever"
WRONG!
There is a twin perverse element of "sex" that has pervaded society and crept in to the minds & hearts of young people. It has replaced what was once red blooded honest and pure virility
The modern zoomer boy will keep his walls bare of any element of young lust. He avoids the innocent teasing of his family. He is a eunuch on his surface, taught by so many cartoons and YouTube vids to avoid revelation. Yet he hunches over his phone and masturbates to FILTH.
There was once a time when films chose to consider the romantic interest as a necessary element of film. A non-negotiable part of the package. The hero and the maiden flirt in the open act. The climax of the movie sees them climaxing. The ending sees them kiss before a sunset.
Now what? How many sterile millennials have written vomit inducing buzzfeed articles about how "refreshing" it is to see movies where a man & a woman behave asexually to each other, simply so they don't fidget and squirm for a 2 minute sex scene when watching with their parents?
This neutral dishonesty hides the veneer of pornography, increasing in escalation. The most prudent defense of the modern digital man is to call me a coomer?
NAY SAYS I
Who are you if you are so weak to the nudity of a beautiful woman you cannot help but think of masturbating?
I am tired of the forced asexuality in the world. I want a world where young men proudly put up beautiful naked women in their rooms, their garages, their gyms, their wallpapers, their art, and their lives. I want openness & honesty. Tasteful nudity is the path to our redemption.
Sex is sacred and to deny it completely, to curtain it out of view like some nervous stilted shame like some anxious child is unnatural. By curtailing this basic masculine pride, we have opted for the steady spiral into increasingly filthy perverse fetishes and pornographies.
Semen retention is a step in the right direction, but just as the teetotaler merely replaces one addiction for another, the no fapper replaces hedonism with fear. I say no more.
No more hiding.
No more shame.
My name is Scorched Earth Policy and I LIKE TO FUCK.
Do you?
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It is highly likely that the most ancient story on earth, The Epic of Gilgamesh & its many concurrent forms are the descended tales of an evolution of stories passed down from half remembered fan fiction about an ancient Atlantean TV show being told over post apocalyptic campfire
Ideas and the network of fiction, philosophy, and knowledge which those ideas can connect to create, are all built on biological foundations. Ideas are tangible and have a living consciousness that is fed by the creation, interaction, and reproduction of the idea itself.
Whenever you dedicate physical energy towards having an idea, talking about an idea, recording an idea, or transmitting an idea, you pour a small amount of your vibrational energy into it, invigorating the idea, prolonging & increasing its life, viral spread & raw emotional power
Honestly the American on vacation is quite similar to the Romans who would take trips to Sparta, a meek shell of itself, and tour the city like a zoo, pointing out how brave and fierce these now slaves used to be. Powerful experience for a people who claim ancestry from Troy
The American boisterousness and overly social tropes of clapping inappropriately and tipping unnecessarily on vacation are akin to the proud celebration of some consul on a triumph giving away money and mirth to the downtrodden foreigner as if to say "Look how happy YOU could be"
This is also echoed in the stolid American tradition of naming everything after Indian tribes and names, our towns, vehicles, missiles. Every Tomahawk missile launched is borrowing the warrior magic from conquered Native American souls, enslaved in the afterlife by losing in war.
Everything surrounding you is the product of meticulous design. Your clothes, your architecture, your products, your media, your music, your scents, your foods, etc. Your AESTHETIC alters your internal vibrations. This is an ongoing part of what I call...
The Vibe Wars
What would happen if "vibes" was a concept that everyone accepted as true? Not simply just a placeholder name for emotions, not just some vague hippie yoga concept, but a tangible measurable energy or substance that could be detected and manipulated with precise consistency?
Immediately, a great number of aesthetic decisions made by graphic designers, architects, fashion designers, and media moguls would be categorized as crimes against humanity. There would be an immediate paradigm shift in global culture. Everything would change in an instant.
There is a man who has only one purpose in a place where everything is a game. He must lose one billion times. He works 8 hours a day, 5 days a week, and gets paid a moderate wage. He is the Designated Loser. In this simulated arena, he loses so that others can feel like they won
The Man Who Loses has gone through a series of emotions when he began. At first enthusiasm. Then irritation. Then weariness. Then despair. Then subdued rage. Then crazed enjoyment. Then emptiness. This spectrum of reactions is a minute fraction left behind early at his job.
The Man Who Loses regards all reaction to his work as a distant memory. He is beyond elation or despondence. His work is automatic. Participants enter a translucent arena, he manifests before them. He responds with perfect rhythm, knowing when to move and how to fail convincingly