"The last will be the first": is Judeo-Christianity the most successful incel cope in history?
Definitely yes. However times have changed, and transhumanism is quickly becoming a more enticing choice for ugly subhumans.
According to the Judeo-Christian tradition, God imparted his first commandment to His children long before Moses climbed Sinai and was taught the first ten laws and, shortly therafter, a different set of first ten laws. The second version omitted allusions to human sacrifice so, well, probably for the best. But, at any rate, no, the original law was commended by the deity to the mortal not while the former was perched upon the peak of a mountain, closer to Heaven than Earth, nearer to the stars than the dirt, but when He walked in the Garden beside His first son and daughter in the Garden. That commandment?
"Be fruitful and multiply."
Every religion concerns the relationship between men and gods, those who were born to die and the one's who condemned them to that unhappy fate. And so what it means to be human in relation to the divine becomes of primary importance. If we turn our gazes toward the Old Testament, what do we see?
Well, there's very little to be found regarding the situation of the incel. The old stories may seem a bit dull, chronicling seemingly endless genealogies but that's because the bloodline and its perpetuation was of the utmost importance. The sins of the father could be visited upon his sons because parenthood had a spiritual significance to it. A eunuch or a dwarf, a man who could not bear offspring because of some physical defect, was barred from the priesthood; he wasn't worthy of stepping into the direct presence of God. God is the Creator, after all, and his divinity was an expression of generation's essential goodness. Sterility was considered a curse, fertility in instances where it would otherwise be impossible without God's intervention the most precious miracle.
When the Book of Tobit cast the devil Asmodeus as its villain, it had to make the demon's crimes as reprehensible as possible. Well, what wickedness was it that Lord Asmoday got up to in his debut performance? He prevented sexual intercourse. As the story goes, the maiden Rachel was to be married and our beautiful young woman found a suitor acceptable to her father. The ceremony was conducted but, before it could be consummated, vicious Asmodeus strangled the groom to death. This happened time and time again until the angel Raphael, the divine physician, dedicated to both health and beauty, taught the Tobias a magic spell capable of driving the monster away. The rite successful, Asmodeus was driven into the desert, chained, and buried beneath the Earth. The marriage between Tobias and Rachel was consummated, children produced, and Asomdeus lay beneath the desert.
And Christianity, yes Christianity: the religion that, attempting to help humanity understand the mysterious relationship between the mortal and the divine took pains to use metaphors regarding marriage. The Church was the bride, Christ the bridegroom, and so on. Now, why was that?
Perhaps because the nearest approximation the typical person, and thus potential convert, had experienced to the union of God and Man was the one between men and women that almost every man and woman experiences over the course of their lives. Almost no one goes to the grave as a mystic, but almost everyone goes to it having been a lover. The Song of Solomon is permitted in the canon not in spite of its erotic nature but because of it. The erotic, the sexual, is the nearest we finite things crafted from flesh and blood can come to the palest shadow of the spiritual and glimpse, if for only a moment, a hint of eternity.
We incels are the things forever barred not only from Heaven but also from the flawed Garden that remained after Heaven divorced itself from Earth and God abandoned Man. Not only is the light forbidden to us, but so too the gentle shadows cast by it. Men aren't meant for Paradise but, in His mercy, God allows them to dream of it every so often as they fall asleep with someone in their arms. But monsters aren't afforded that luxury, are they? And if they see anything behind their eyelids after night falls, it won't be the Heaven they'll never experience but the Hell that inevitably awaits.
