Not long ago, if you were a “normal” man, there were certain things you could take for granted.
You would get married and have children. You would enjoy the support of friends, family, church, and community.
You would have a social role. You knew what standards you were expected to uphold.
You would be taught certain skills to survive and prosper – hunting, fishing, fighting, construction, and craftsmanship.
You would know that you could be called to war to defend your country, but also take comfort because your nation would honor your sacrifice.
This is what it was to be a “normal” man.
These things are gone now.
Because of social media and poisonous doctrines, modern relationships can be a nightmare.
There’s no initiation into manhood.
Many young men grow up without fathers.
Many assume (and accept) they will never be married or have children. If they have no brothers or sisters, their line will end with them.
Men are told they’re “obsolete,” so they vanish into worlds of fantasy and vicarious existence. They define themselves by corporate franchises. Or they disparage manhood entirely and broadcast their weakness.
And the System pats them on the head. It wants us tamed; spaniels, not wolves.
Recently, a System mouthpiece ran a gleeful article about men forming a support group to “shrug off the armor of masculinity to get in touch with their true feelings.”
“Like a sort of anti-‘Fight Club’,” the journo smugly wrote.
The piece celebrated “a shift in attitudes and increased curiosity about what it means to be male.”
A sociologist, another mouthpiece, said it is bad when a worldview sees “every other man [as] a potential competitor.” We must look at each other as “brothers” instead of “rivals.” We will apparently bond through shared helplessness.
Of course, it’s easy to sneer and make wisecracks about “soyboys,” a term that already feels dated. But this is the wrong approach. The problem, pain, and isolation are real. It’s not enough to just roll our eyes and say, “toughen up.” There is a root cause behind this crisis of masculinity.
And, in truth, we’ve all felt it. Atomization, deracination, commodification – this is the Kali Yuga, when everything that is solid melts into dissolution. Men feel confused. We do need brothers, community, solidarity.
Yet can you bond over weakness? Failure? Shame?
The journo’s reference to Fight Club is significant, because it was a book and film that captured the way many men felt at the time – devoid of purpose, identity, and the chance for heroism. Yet in the years since, we have been told that men are not allowed to feel this longing. That longing is just proof of our “privilege.” Instead, we must strip themselves of “toxic” masculinity, hold ourselves to no standards, identify only with our flaws and weaknesses.
The intended message of Fight Club is irrelevant. What’s important is that it addressed something real. It also showed two ways of responding. In the beginning of Fight Club, the narrator finds peace by crying at support groups. But ultimately that becomes insufficient, and he derives a deeper sense of satisfaction by creating a forum for combat. What’s more, the men who attend find the greatest brotherhood by fighting each other. Solidarity is built through battle.
Fight Club was two decades ago – it feels like a lifetime. Today, deconstructing masculinity is a profession for some people. People with real privilege, outrageous wealth, media backing and unlimited job security screech about what we must believe. Our assigned role is to be like sinners in a church, crying about our shame and depravity.
It’s no wonder the mouthpieces love publishing stuff like this. They gain more temporal power the more we humiliate ourselves. The reason this article was even published was to push men in this direction, thus granting the priests of weakness more power over us.
Of course, there’s a big difference between a priest from a Christian church and the clerics of egalitarianism. In church, whether speaking to a priest or to your god directly, you may feel shame about your past actions. However, there’s the promise of salvation, forgiveness, and rebirth.
Egalitarian clerics don’t even offer that. You don’t get redemption from a “support group.” You’re never washed of sin through the “precious blood.” You are just told about different ways you must break yourself down even further.
Weakness can’t beget anything but further weakness. There is a better way. Culture comes from the cult. Tribe is created through shared struggle and ritual. Deed begets deed. Strength begets strength.
Does this mean we despise our brothers when we fail or fall short? No, but we don’t make excuses. If a “brother” ignores your shortcomings, explains away your flaws, or says that your weaknesses are “actually” strengths, he’s not your brother. He doesn’t love you and he doesn’t care about you.
The state of the world should make you depressed – if you’re happy about the way things are, there’s something deeply wrong with you. Events in life will hurt you emotionally and spiritually. The strongest men can be crushed by a breakup or divorce. Tragedy can break the will of would-be conquerors.
Yet does a real brother allow you to wallow in this mire of sadness and defeat? Of course not. Have we not all said or done things when we were depressed that seem embarrassing now? How much better it would have been if a brother had listened with understanding and then, physically or metaphorically, slapped us across the face and told us to get up and move forward.
More importantly, have we not all experienced tragedy and anguish from events that still tear at our hearts? Like the indecisive Hamlet, should we just be paralyzed by grief? A brother should listen with compassion, but not enable self-destructive behavior. Your brothers exist to push you over these hills, not to push you back down into the swamp of endless self-criticism.
There is no conflict between a man being your “brother” and your “rival.” They should be constantly pushing you forward, directing you higher, offering challenge after challenge, victory after victory.
Sometimes, the best expression of brotherhood is a fist to the face, followed by a hand to lift you back up.
I am in constant competition with my brothers, and they with me. And it is this continuous challenge, conflict, and competition that makes us strong and sustains an Honor Culture.
Reject what the System and its mouthpieces are telling you. Masculinity is a challenge, and it is a challenge that should be welcomed.
We face a culture that is driving men into suicide, escapism, and self-mutilation. I don’t know whether these consequences are intended or not. I do know that the Lords of Lies gain power from them, and that when they preach weakness to us, it is to enhance their own perverted form of strength.
It is the Age of Iron, and many have fallen away. Death comes, our time is short, and the certainties of the past lie in ruins. We dwell in a Hollow Empire, a mausoleum for a dead culture.
Yet in the real world, away from the blue screens, tribes are rising over ash, flame, and blood-stained altars. Conquerors will emerge from this crucible, not just through physical strength, but through spiritual, mental, and intellectual fortitude. A new culture is born, or re-born. The Age of Heroes comes again.
We reject the System’s values and the mewling of its mouthpieces. We have our own code, one our ancestors would recognize. We hail our own gods, returning in forms relevant to our own world and our own time. Our standard is raised against the world.
If you are weak, become mighty. If you are scared, become brave. If you are comfortable, seek challenge. My brothers are my rivals, my tribe is my family, and my “support group” is our strength.
And no matter how lost you are in the darkness, with the right eyes you can see the fires beckoning you, calling you to a better way.