To me, fair friend, you never can be old

A colossal cosmetics ecosystem has matured with the civilized world. Products alone represent $62 billion in revenues in just the US. This industry exists for one purpose: to make beauty’s retreat before age a dignified affair. Physical beauty is bitterly fleeting for everyone. Though at least men can take solace in it not being their primary mating currency. Women, in contrast, are obliged by the demands of nature to approach their looks with far greater urgency.

With that urgency in mind, and at the risk of forfeiting vast wealth by giving it away, this post will reveal the lost ancient secret for how a woman can remain radiant until her wrinkled and bent body finally expires. There was an age just subsequent to the Pleistocene when women’s innate understanding of this anti-aging miracle was buttressed by their society rather than refuted by it. Anthropologists often call the proto-humans who lived during this period their “grandparents.”

And what these distant people understood–as inferred from drawings on cave walls–is this: a young woman who is economical with her sexual favors, and bestows them (along with her loyalty and affection) in marriage to an honest and appreciative man will never grow old in his eyes. No face wrap even comes close.

Consider this touching portrait of a recently deceased couple who had been married 62 years. Knowing the final hours were upon them, they passed from this world as their life was spent in it: holding hands. And when the husband looked down at the failing husk of his wife, you can be assured what he saw was this woman:

Rather than this one.

That’s not just sap from a sentimental story. It is a process proven by the millennia for how women keep men committed when age has stolen their primary means of doing so. Love may or may not be an evolutionary illusion, but if so it is one powerful enough to veil the scars of time. If a wife is still beautiful to her husband, then she can still feel beautiful. Makeup and marketing careers are very poor substitutes.

And I’m not the only one who thinks so. The poem below was penned by a black woman who died in poverty because they wouldn’t publish her work. For those inclined to hear, it offers directions to the only fountain of youth.

To me, fair friend, you never can be old,
For as you were when first your eye I eyed,
Such seems your beauty still. Three winters cold
Have from the forests shook three summers’ pride,
Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turned
In process of the seasons have I seen,
Three April perfumes in three hot Junes burned,
Since first I saw you fresh, which yet are green.
Ah, yet doth beauty, like a dial-hand,
Steal from your figure, and no pace perceived;
So your sweet hue, which methinks still doth stand,
Hath motion, and mine eye may be deceived:
For fear of which, hear this, thou age unbred:
Ere you were born was beauty’s summer dead.

Because of its graceful candor, I particularly liked the speaker’s acknowledgement of time’s savagery to our appearance. Thus he understands that after many seasons his eyes (seeing beauty still) may be deceived. But it is a deception he embraces happily. And that benign self-deception after the dizzying bloom of youth is precisely what young women are purchasing with their chastity and loyalty. What was clear to their grandmothers is concealed by their professors.

Male-female pair-bonding could accurately be considered the cement of civilization. Thus it should be no surprise at all to find it so fervently subjected to the solvents of feminism, pansexuality, and gender-spectrum theory. If you want to destroy an edifice from the ground up, you begin with its foundation.

All of which was my response to reading a relationship fluff-piece now months-old. I don’t have a link and can’t recall every particular, though the article lingered vaguely in mind long enough to require a posting enema.

It was about a lovelorn sad-sack man who was so desperate to cling to his disinterested girlfriend that he granted her open sexual liberties if she would keep one leg in his bed. The profoundly silly and slovenly girl gladly accepted the offer, and spent most of her evenings being perforated by strangers while lying in mildew. She expressed a sort of bovine entitlement headlined by the imbecilic platitude that a woman should be able to have it all: pubic lice and a psychotically bitter boyfriend, presumably.

That last part is one of nature’s well-developed hurdles to vacuous slatterns actually having it all in the manner this one expects. No matter what lies they may tell their partners or themselves, 99% of men view their women as exclusively theirs, and react with varying ferocity when disabused of the notion. That fury from being emotionally stabbed doesn’t actually dissipate with repetition.

As a result, every one of the girlfriend’s cavalier liaisons is a hot knife in his gut. He stifles his response to these in order to hold the sliver of her attention he is still able to command. But he won’t stifle it forever.

In the unlikely event such a union actually proceeds to marriage, his desperate restraints will come off. Nothing will be forgotten or forgiven. Once married he will begin to exact retribution in ways that are merely petty if she is fortunate. Which means the mildew has more potential for long-term harmony than a man she has repeatedly humiliated.

Though the thematic point is that she is going to age very poorly in his eyes. Her commitment to riding the carousel will come at the cost of his or likely any other man’s benign self-deception. At 40 she won’t look 25 to him; she’ll look 80. That is something the civilizational solvent industry will never tell her. Too bad grandmothers don’t write hate blogs.


32 thoughts on “To me, fair friend, you never can be old

  1. Porter,

    Great writing, as usual.

    There is so much to learn from our forefathers that has been blithely cast aside for the shiny new age of progress.

    I lived in a progressive city for a while and was in the dating scene. I had on two separate occasions women tell me about having an abortion (no, I never asked them on a date). They looked at me confused when instead of heaping on praise I instead had an instinctual look of disgust which I’m sure I just couldn’t hide. They probably thought it was an act of bravery to say they killed their baby, I suppose. But to me it made them look…old.

    These women were in their 30s and rapidly approaching the wall. And yes, one of them at least was getting botox injections to look younger. Yet, they had no idea why they couldn’t find a man. Indeed, there was no reason why a man would want them.

    I wanted to shake these women and snap them out of their stupor and lifetime of indoctrination. But I thought it would be mean. In hindsight I might have done them a favor by being direct about what not to say to men if they want to find one.

    After these incidents, I become very angry at the system that has raised these young girls into being gigantic sluts and most assuredly bad mothers if they ever had a child. These women were told all the wrong things about life. It made them as unattractive to a man as possible. No amount of botox was going to fix the situation.

    • Thanks. I was once dating a girl who innocently began telling me one night all the men with whom she had had sex. The poor thing couldn’t see the light fading out of my eyes with every name. In today’s environment she probably would have been considered chaste, but at the time I remember thinking “I’m definitely not marrying any woman that half the guys I meet can smirk and say ‘I banged that.'”

  2. The good news for young men is that they can always marry younger women. These women are just harming their own reproductive success. It’s sad, but evolution in action.

    Young men who want to find a chaste and good wife need to leave the city. Metropolitan areas are genetic meatgrinders. Out here in the more rural areas young women who dream of a family man and children are not gone. You’ll find them if you’re trying half as hard as the poor guys in the urban dating scene.

    • “Young men who want to find a chaste and good wife need to leave the city. Metropolitan areas are genetic meatgrinders.”

      Young Christian men are having plenty of success in the concrete jungle, thanks to Chateau, finding women to be their loving wife. Slim and supple, who know how to cook and clean. They employ Game…but don’t have sex with them. This neat trick entices the female amygdala. As a result, they are putty in the hands of the conveyors of the message of Jesus Christ. I really don’t know where you are getting your information from.

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    • God gifted me with a sturdy, muscular frame, a commitment to fitness, and a healthy endowment that made me the envy of my male peers in high school, earning me the nickname Hoss. In my younger and wilder years I served as what is called in the lifestyle as a “bull” for numerous couples in which the male was either cuckolded, sidelined, or simply enjoyed the kink of watching his wife be taken by another man. It’s far, far more common than you might believe.

      All of the couples lived otherwise perfectly normal upper middle-class professional lives complete with white collar jobs, nice suburban houses with manicured lawns, kids, etc. Several couples were younger women (30s) paired with older men (50s and 60s) who could no longer perform. One husband, a stroke victim, would sit next to the bed, watch, and sometimes hold his wife’s hand. When we finished he would crawl into bed with her and they would cuddle as a couple. As a bull you don’t get emotionally invested in a couple, but that was touching.

  5. Our cultures entire outlook on the old, getting old, being old is corrupted, just about like every other aspect of society. That relationships, love and pair bonding in old age should be forgotten/twisted is no surprise. There’s a reason that certain societal norms such as marriage were settled upon; we had generations of proof that it worked. Today anything with the faintest whiff of “tradition” let alone Western or European is being purged as quickly and completely as possible, all to our peoples loss. There’s an interesting post over at Neociceronian Times concerning this purge of all things “old”, especially people. Its quite revealing.

  6. when i was young, in that foolish way, i had vague aspirations to be a writer, maybe the way a lot of white middle class 19-year-olds do . you often put me to shame. you craft words around ideas exceptionally well. far far better than even the best of my best could. i even struggle to archive and keep the choicest turns of phrase for use in speech in “the world”. i don’t know how to describe what it’s like when your is at best mediocre….

    you continue to impress

  7. My wife will always be beautiful to me if for no other reason, and there are many, that come from keeping the faith we have between us.
    It is ever lasting, it stays with me always.
    And that to me is beauty even the most alluring and sensual looking young lady, while nice to look at for what it is, can never equal.

  8. We all looked better @ 18 than @ 68. My wife and I have been together since New Year’s Eve 1968 and I still have never seen the woman I would rather have spent the last 49 years with. My life’s greatest blessing has been her love and companionship.

  9. The world seems a far more tame place today then ever before. Seems is the operative word here, as glimpses of the jungle are increasingly visible through the peeling veneer. Life may have been made longer and less brutal, but it’s an illusion that has lulled too many Americans into making less than optimal choices. Life remains a team sport. Choose your team well.

  10. Tsnamm: The stewards of tradition grew weak and craven. As a result, our culture got critiqued…good and hard.

    Zeta: Thanks, I appreciate it.

    Mtnforge & revjen: Love is the beauty that never fades.

    Epicaric: Yes, the ugly rips and tears of contemporary society are being covered under a layer of iPhones.

  11. Incoming links here are frequently a laff-a-lympics. About once a month a reader returns to their source site to rail against one of our banner photos under the presumption it represents the editorial position of this blog. I think I’m going to start capturing these responses as images and making them also into banner photos.

  12. C’mon guys. Let’s get real. A woman could be economical with her sexual favor and bestow them along with her loyalty to an appreciative man (along with children) and get dumped badly. Before having children today a woman has to decide if she can be superwoman because the likelihood she’ll need to be in 50%. These are bad odds.

    • Of course she can get dumped. There’s no across-the-board statement that can be made about human behavior. But if she aspires to be yearned-for through old age, there’s one way to achieve it.

    • This is a great example of the assumption that statistics are uncaused phenomena.

      No, the chance that a woman behaves properly and gets screwed in the marriage market is vanishingly small.

      The commonly-cited 50% divorce figure is largely driven by women behaving badly.

    • Outstanding post, Porter.

      Marieinbethpage, yes, there’re risks, that virtue and sacrifice won’t be appreciated, or worse, come to nothing. But speaking personally, my own troubled, difficult 18 year marriage shows me something different and, at times, incomprehensibly strange to me: after all the shit we’ve endured, and after all the times we’ve both seriously desired and contemplated divorce, I still find my wife beautiful. Way past the wall and overweight, God help me I still see her like I did 20 years ago, and I know in my heart and in the way she looks at me that she sees me that way too. Neither of us deserve that, but we have it.

      I should note that she was chaste until marriage, brought up by parents from a better culture, and a Christian. Tremendous advantages.

    • If she settles for a man who thinks she’s too good for him, especially a man who is a virgin, when she is a young beautiful virgin, she will more likely than not receive in return a lifetime of devotion. And he will ALWAYS remember exactly what she was like when she was young and beautiful.

      If she refrains from reading 50 Shades of Grey and Eat, Love Pray, her chances of divorce go way down.

    • We (my wife and I) noticed that the people we have known who screwed around on their mates were not happier for it, usually ended up splitting, and didn’t do as well the next time around. And yeah, I still would rather look at my wife every day than anyone else and still prefer her company to that of anyone else. I know that my life is a lot better with her than it would be without her. Oh, and just in the interest of full disclosure we got together at a biker New Years Eve party(1968) and have been together ever since.

  13. It’s like I’ve been in a trance for most of my adult life. Hypnotized.Chasing sex and running from love. No thought for the future, no concern for my legacy. There was plenty of negative cultural reinforcement for my baseless cynicism and aversion. Happy couples seemed like saps, married men appeared as dupes. Once you chipped away the veneer of custom, it was all sex and gratification underneath. Marriage was a trap, children were a life sentence. Most people had to be unhappy denying themselves the directives of their hind brains.

    Coincidentally, I was also depressed. When your life revolves around sex ripped from it’s proper context, almost everything else becomes senseless, unendurable. Old women are useless, children are useless, families….they all get in the way, they are noise interfering with the ever beaming signal of sex.

    Only young women have value in this unworkable system. Qualities that slip right out of your grubby, groping hands. That’s why you compensate with quantity. Each individual woman grows old and loses her beauty, but there are always more young women to replace them. And for those aging women desperate to retain their fading looks, there are industries geared up to comfort them, to shore up the lies that leave them old and loveless.

    Then one day the scales fell from my eyes and I saw clearly where I was headed. I will be a lonely old man with no connection to the world and a diminished capacity for frivolous pleasure. What will sustain me when my senses dim and my energy wanes? Fuzzy memories of fornicating with strangers? Episodic indulgence does not make for a life worth remembering.

    I want to look at my wife and know that she’s mine, and that I’m her’s as well. Our shared history will be carried on into the future by our children, who will grow up in a stable, secure, and loving home. I can already tell that youthful beauty does live on in the bond of love despite what time does to our bodies and faces. I can see into a future when I see the same beautiful 22 year old woman who’s been there with me every step of the way. Skin wrinkles and sags, bones become brittle and break, organs wither and fail. But the eyes don’t change, they still sparkle with recognition of beauty held fast in love after everything else has changed.

    • That was an interesting comment. It may have been moving if you had suggested your approximate age. As it is I am somewhat baffled. You’ve been in a trance your entire adult life, yet in your future you see the same beautiful 22 year old who has been with you every step of the way?

      Has the trance you’ve been in most of your adult life been a whopping 3 or 4 years? Or are you robbing the cradle?

      Any man contemplating marrying a spouse half his age should read my comment above and take note. She will make you feel young when you are in your 40s and she’s in her 20s. But 10-15 years later she’ll be hitting her sexual peak just when your testosterone level and sperm count are dropping like rocks. That’s when accommodations become necessary in order to maintain the marriage. I saw it over and over again.

      • I wasn’t clear. What I meant was that I met my future wife when she was 22 and I was 28. I was saying that I can already see into a future where she will always be that person to me. I’m not old or young. I lived a dissolute life for about ten years, from 17 to about 28. I’m in my thirties now.

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