Prometheus

I think by the time you’re grown you’re as happy as you’re goin to be. You’ll have good times and bad times, but in the end you’ll be about as happy as you was before. Or as unhappy. I’ve knowed people that just never did get the hang of it.
from “No Country for Old Men”

Recently on Twitter, Matt Forney and Uland K. had a small debate, one which nonetheless stretched beyond 140 characters, on youth versus age. It started when Forney tweeted “The manosphere is for MEN, young men in particular. The opinions of everyone else are irrelevant.” From there, the conversation proceeded as one would expect. To put it another way, I’m not in the mood to copy all those tweets so you’ll either have to look them up yourselves or use your imaginations.

That conversation, the one you’ve either now read or imagined, came to mind when I read Why I’m Manning Up, also by Matt Forney as well as Dracula’s treatise on freedom.

The reason I considered those posts in tandem is that I even though I used to be a standard transmission purist, I now prefer the dual automatic/clutchless manual setup. Wait, where was I? Oh yeah, get off my lawn.

Also, we old guys, men whose age starts with the number 3, have previously ruminated upon the tradeoffs between youth and age, constraint and freedom.

I shall not pretend that Forney is totally incorrect nor shall I claim that having a wife and kids are not impediments to sleeping on rocks and being fondled by hippie chicks. I do disagree with the assumptions that many of the young men have about their future divorces. Short version:  The red pill is useless if you ignore its truths when selecting a spouse, but that’s not my focus today. Rather my point, if I have one peeking through the fog of sleep deprivation, is that the 32 year old you will likely be vastly different than the 22 year old you. For example, my life goals used to revolve around smoking weed all day, staying up all night, and getting blowjobs. Now I prefer single malt scotch, sleeping at night, and getting blowjobs.

This is where Dracula, who is really old, enters the equation. It’s also why young men should listen to the elders, even if they incorporate a discerning ear. For example, don’t wear capes, no matter what the vampire tells you. Dracula is certainly correct that most men’s hearts do not truly yearn for freedom. Most. Some of us, though, do desire freedom. The responsibility that comes with a little age and a few young ‘uns, sitting decisively at the head of the house, are opportunities to grasp freedom of responsibility and to do so in a way that comports with the changing predilections of a man who has lost his taste for cocaine, all nighters, and constantly being on the move.

Once you take the red pill, you’re about as happy as you’re going to be. It’s not about concerts or picket fences, it’s about you and how good a hang you have on things. Stop worrying about the prescription and focus on the ethos.

And with that semblance of a point loosely nailed down, seriously, get off my lawn.

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