It's not that the notion of sacrifice is inaccessible or hermetic to the female mind, it's simply that it doesn't come naturally. Just about any human female could be educated to use the terminology and corresponding conceptual framework correctly, and I personally know exemplars that have been and therefore do, but outside of specific and deliberate artfulness the natural female notion of sacrifice is "sacrifice qua there's a cunt between my legs", not sacrifice qua sacrifice.
That said, let's get to the point, eventually, but meander a little first.
mircea_popescu "Arrival is an excruciating ode to the holy mother's spring sacrifice. Instead of dazzling with feats of shoostment, punching, swordplay, or skillful maneuvering of ICEmobiles, Arrival wallops one incessantly with the great sacrifice of parenthood and just how far woman will go for her babies, especially if that baby is everyone and the sacrifice just the guy she hooked up with that one time when everyone got real stressed out about aliens."
mircea_popescu Dude has it, clearly. Ben Vulpes will produce one gem per article, he's got a geological process going on in his skull and the result is these geodes of an article whereby among the silt there's gems. "JUST THE
SHE THAT ONE TIME WHEN EVERYONE " is 100% of the moral/ethical mental process of every USian under 30i. That's the whole thing. Just the thought they have that one time when everyone's looking down at them. Thassit. Meanwhile the female mind, having betrayed the faith she owes the maleii, is taking refuge in teary-eyed imaginations of "sacrifices" ; in a defensive paleocortex process veheheheery well known by the survivors of the communist countriesiii. "oh, those were the times, I HAD TO SACRIFICE" says every despicable old Quisling whore. Mno bitch, you didn't have to sacrifice anything, you're just a blob of fat. Blobs of fat don't "sacrifice", they just get bought and sold.
Now then : import the cognitive framework laid out in A complete theory of politics and let's work together. A "nation" or "state" or "republic" or however you'd call aiv sovereign group of people is going to be a proxy for the involved alphas and nothing more. The females involved owe themselves to those alphas -- unless you want to be onev you must be with one, that's the call of life -- and the betas are literally not worth the mention.
If there will be more than one group, as there always will be for reasons we shan't discuss here, then it is possible that conflict creates a hierarchy among the groups. This means a lot more than meets the eye -- firstly, it means the physical destruction of the defeated alphas. This isn't optional, or some sort of "ancient barbarity" meanwhile excised from history or any such thing, it is an absolute rule of life, you're either right or wrong and dominance does not survive being wrong. It doesn't even take the winners doing anything -- the losers will drink themselves to death if need be, whatever it takes the extermination of loser alphas will go through as it must.
The definitions of wrongness involved, the exact workings on the contest are complex and complicated of course, and it happened in history often enough that a group lost just as it thought it had won, it may even be impossible for the average direct participant to evaluate who actually wonvi. Nevertheless, once there's disagreement there's conflict and once there's conflict there's going to be a winner, and the losers will need eulogies written.
Once their alphas are defeated, a chasm opens for women. Their options are strictly two, and the dilemma unyielding : will they be whores, and write the eulogies ? Or will they be mothers, and be traded like sacks of flesh on an open market that's not open for themvii ? It's counterintuitive, but nevertheless : the respectable solution implies indignityviii whereas the shameful solution requires the utter poltroonism of "sacrifice" in the sense of forgetting the man to focus on the child.ix
The problem of the female notion of sacrifice is that what they call sacrifice isn't.———
- Yes, you're all female. You are. You know you are. [↩]
- This is a thing. Writing a proper eulogy requires close understanding of some things the nursery dwellers can not, for that reason, comprehend. [↩]
- See the butthurt ensuing from Vina Batrinilor, it'll get you halfway there. [↩]
- Literally any one without exception, the theory actually covers all known cases and I daresay it will cover all possible cases. [↩]
- Traditionally, the groups known to history take a very dim view of the female inclination of being one.
This is to my mind explained by biological accident, in the sense that the female body being optimized for a different function it lacks the easements then directly measured in contest, which is to say muscular power. The fact that no woman could outrun even a mediocre man, to not even get into the sadness of upper body strength differentials led the ancients and the medievals to conclude that rather than banking the abomination physical training turns the female body into for the dubious payoff of yet another submediocre man, the roles should be strictly separated and that's that.
This view may have been reasonable for the time, even if women had much smaller tits back then, and tiny butts by comparison. Nevertheless, times have changed, muscular power is no longer the decider of contests, and consequently the strict separation of yesteryear has scarcely any merit left. It is dubious whether women can think, of course, but then again it's equally dubious whether men can. It's true that women will probably want to have children, but then again men will probably want to drink. Neither in capacity nor in sin is there substantial difference of the categorical sort present a thousand or ten thousand years ago, and so there really is no basis : should any woman wish to be an alpha male, let her be one.
But hark, that she'd better be an alpha male, there is no place and no room and no sense in trying to be an "alpha female". There is no such thing, humans are pretentious monkeys not pretentious wolves.
I know that you don't want to listen to your elders, I know that a bunch of inept women inculcated in you the absurd, nonsensical notion that you don't have to listen to those who know better, but try and hold all that deliberately constructed stupidity quiet for a moment and think : life on Earth is improbable, most of the things that are "obviously" and "of course" and normal and natural are actually very fucking unlikely, if you do proceed on the basis of nude and crude deductive reasoning, "X so then why not Y" you're bound to find out on your own skin just how fucking unlikely that X was in the first place. Things that can not be yet can be represented abound, by some counts there's just as many irrational numbers as there's rational even if you only met a couple of them, the space is vast and the odds of you stumbling on a working crevice just because you want to are epsilon which means nil once you add in the time constraints of human life. [↩]
- Often stated as "X won the war but Y won the peace", as it happened to Charles' men who "conquered" Italy only to lose their life, and their country, to the Doge's whores. The hardworking girls won the peace, and it trumped the loud boys' winning of the "war". [↩]
- Revisit the self-evaluation guide, and consider : is the pork market open for the pig ? It's not, is it : by the time the pig is pork it is no pig no more. [↩]
- If you wonder why and wherefore the gypsies, who never actually won a war, still exist as a nation, recall that their girls start working the cunt as soon as it bleeds. And I do mean working, quite in the sense, for pay.
Speaking of which, the whorishness of Rachel is the deep reason Jews are still around today. Naught else, and certainly not "their friends" in Paris, or then London, or then Washington and Moscow. [↩]
- Because "the future", of course. Have you yet noticed the pattern whereby buying the future is fucking yourself over ?
Because if you haven't, there's a noi culmi glorioase ale constructiei socialismului si comunismului in patria noastra waiting for you. From what I hear it ain't pretty. [↩]