What I find most objectionable about this little post is not the suggestion that some woman could possibly find one of the "saints" venerated here attractive. Rather, what's so frustrating is the belief that said possibility is anything like an argument. For all it mattered, our "saint" could be a false idol that numerous women found attractive in a quirky fashion. Perhaps the fellow celebrated as the ur-incel actually has a girlfriend. Perhaps he's married and has children. Quite frankly, it wouldn't shock me if that was the case. Nature is merciful and She'll work veritable wonders for the sake of Her children. It probably needn't be said that She doesn't extend the same sympathy to Her abortions. Though willing to reach into the blaze to rescue the sickliest flowers from being consumed by it, She'll also allow the weeds and thorns polluting Her garden to burn up and away without so much as shedding a single tear.
It could be revealed tomorrow that some man considered by many to be ugly is actually a normal person with a sexual history, who's dated, found love, lost it and all the rest. That wouldn't change the simple fact there are still men who will never experience these things. Smashing an idol is only capable of murdering a god if there's no actual deity it represents. The temple can be razed, the scriptures torn up and scattered to the four winds, the cosmic geography inverted so that Hell arches above Heaven and proudest of cruel Nature's truths become moral man's guiltiest secrets. The gods who once dwelt in the decimated temple will continue to haunt the world because what is simply is, even if they have to do so in the wilderness where the once divine become diabolic by default.
The fact an "ugly" man was once loved wouldn't change the fact a legion of truly repulsive things, not fit to even begin to be regarded as men, were not and never would be. Laughing at the absurdity of a cheap marionette Mephisto dragged across a cramped stage by some fat puppeteer who is closer to a heart-attack than Hell isn't sufficient to exorcise Mephistopheles, Our Lord of the Starving, as he wanders up and down across the vast world hunting for souls to devour because the taste and touch of flesh has been forbidden to him.
When all is said and done, I don't want to hear that some man who fell short of Adonis was loved once. I'm old and I've seen enough to know that's happened time and time again. If we are to have something like a real conversation, I want one of those so quick to indict us to admit there was just one man who went down to the grave unloved. Not because of his wickedness, not because he "deserved" it through some moral failing, but simply because Nature is as cruel to some as She is kind to others. Let them acknowledge that the truly ugly feel the same desires they do, let them confess they've been blessed while others have been cursed, let them for a moment imagine what it is to never be touched with anything like affection.
Let them throw the shoddy effigies of straw and wormwood into the fire, let them return their ludicrous puppets and flimsy marionettes to the toy chest they dragged them from when they were young enough to find solace in childish fantasies. And if they're still willing to face the shadow remaining, well, an actual confrontation can occur.
We called it an exorcism once. More enlightened now, let's just consider it a conversation.
And if God is dead, no longer able to keep each side honest, compelling the priest to confess his naughty secrets and the devil to choke out its true name?
Sad and desperate things that we've become, noble man denigrated to rutting animal and majestic satan to rotting monster, Cosmos reduced to handsome model and Chaos to grotesque sideshow freak, we'll have to appeal to Nature to officiate.
Weird, isn't it? I'm eagerly anticipating the verdict even though I know all too well what it'll be.