Originally posted on Bittersweet Pills:
The process by which the female of any animal species selects the male with whom she will cohabit and let him pass his genes to her progeny is called sexual selection. And while feminists are often prone to confuse Homo sapiens males with canines, the fact is that even the female Homo sapiens is essentially an animal. Consequently the rules of sexual selection apply to her as well.
This process of sexual selection is not merely a biological abstraction. The reality of its existence hits you like a Tysonian punch on the nose, when impelled by your hormonal storm and confident in your belief in being a youthful Adonis, you approach the most beautiful girl in your college and receive a summary rejection – without so much as a backward glance to check if the thud behind her was just a falling log or your head hitting the ground. After you’ve endured the amusement of your dear friends and well-wishers and finished contemplating the various non-painful means to end your life and your shame, you begin to think : What went wrong? Why did she reject you, when according to you, you were the most suitable play…err….life-mate for her. The answer, my dear fellow, is sexual selection.
According to the principles of sexual selection, a female is always on the lookout for the best possible man to father her future children. And her criteria are often entirely different from what you think they are or should be. For instance, you may be the sort of person who jumps to rigid attention every time the National Anthem plays, even on your radio while you are seated in the 2nd class compartment of a train, and thereby lose your hard-earned seat. You may attend your local Nationalist organization meetings regularly and do the daily exercises, giving the stick in your hand an extra twirl whenever you spot the object of your desire at a distance, nearly poking yourself in the eye with which you are lechering at her. You may think that your patriotic fervor makes you the finest fellow on earth. But, believe me, your patriotic acrobatics have as much chance of making her sway as the Eastern wind has of toppling Mount Kilimanjaro.