Incel

The True Form Of My Mind
And of Toyota's on-board computer code, 
as it transpired from the Bookout case.

Dear Incel,
 
First of all, you should really drop the "in".

You are voluntarily celibate.

In the [western] world we live in, the ones that really can't get any tail are indeed many - usually, persons with physical or mental handicaps that go well beyond being overweight or a mild depression.

And of them, a not small number are women.

If you do not fit this bill, if you have all your limbs and can keep a job for any sizeable amount of time, you are likely able to get laid. If you want.

OK, your most probable partners aren't going to be fashion mannequins or cheerleaders, but that is not a reason to avoid them.

Truth be told, a 40 years old, overweight housewife - one that is looking for a last cock to shag before menopause sets in - may be not a person you would brag about to your pals at the pub - [by the way, you shouldn't - even when the partner was a young Natalie Portman and it is the only thing you did, in the last six months, that proved to yourself that you are alive], but she is also likely to be ten times the sexual prowess of the average model starving on the catwalk.

I cannot quantify with reference to cheerleaders as I have never met one in a biblical way, but chances are they have other priorities beyond sex - alas, that's just being healthy young women in our society - so I would guesstimate a factor 3.

She is also someone that is all too easy to encounter, in our time - they haunt almost every corner of the web, the bars  in downtown, and your church's choir. They are ubiquitous, and ravenous - just give them a chance to prove it, and you'll see.

So, if getting laid was as fundamental for you as you weep that it is, you'd found a way to.

Recognizing that your celibate status is really a choice is a freeing moment, that allows one to ask himself a first question:

"Why do I not care that much to have sex?"

This may have many answers, often more than one at a time.

Some of them could be potentially irksome - "My idea of a fun afternoon could end with her dead, me with a 25 to life without parole, if I manage to avoid insanity [in which case, they may as well throw the key of my padded cell away, as NO psychiatrist will ever stake is or her professional reputation on me being cured], and leave me also unable to look at my face in the mirror".

Some scarier thus - "I do not trust anyone to enter that most vulnerable zone that I call my intimacy".

Some understandable - "I do not have tat much of a sex drive" [unless a board, hammer, nails and a woman's nipples are involved; Too much information, reader? My bad.]

Some may even be almost sweet - " My mother is alone, old, deaf and near blind and she hates the guts of any woman that comes nearer than a mile from me, so any medium to long term relationship I have ever had pained her. Yet I need more than a quickie, to understand and appreciate having sex with a woman!"

Some bring on other questions - "They always tell me that I have to change myself, to get this or that. Change myself into what they want from me, to get a speckle of happiness. Why can't I be accepted and loved as I am?" (Because humans are ass-holes - all of us, that why).

Infinite possible answers, only you know the ones you have to give yourself.

Then you can tackle the other question, the one that has way less numerous answers.

"Why I was so bothered by it, to tell myself that I was alone because women are cruel? Women are no better nor worse than men, each gender has its set of priorities - that changes over time - and that's all".

Why were so bothered? You could stole a page from the pick-up artists - possibly, not one that was cited in Cosmo, be smart - if you really cared about getting laid.

You don't.

And it is your right to not care.

Even when the whole of our culture seems set out to convince you that it is fundamental to your status as a human being - it is not.

That it is central to your worth as a person - it is not.

That good people have good sex - this contrasts with the experience of almost everybody.

That a great man should have a good job and get the high school Prom Queen - Why should he? The job, maybe, but the Prom Queen may as well be asexual and into dragster racing... which would make her a hell of a friend to discuss mechanics with. 

It is time to recognize that, if societal changes affected the rules by which women were expected to live their life, the same must apply to men.

Do not see your celibate state as an external imposition.

See it for what it is: the refusal to commit to your required role in a social order that does not recognize you as more than a cog in the machine - if you are lucky enough to have a place in it at all, which is something we are told that increasingly less of us will have in the future.

Not as a disgrace imposed upon you from the outside, but as a supreme act of civil disobedience.

The definitive form of non-violent resistance to the status quo:

The refusal of participating in its renewal, and the will to let it crumble by old age.