/pol/ - International /Pol/itics & /Bant/er

When you rape someone, it is barbaric and animalistic, with no soul put into it. You do it because you're a pent up animal with no thinking, or passion, or feelings, you are simply excited in a way that offended the half-digested trauma swimming around in your underdeveloped amygdala. Your rapes are the moral equivalent of a dog humping another dog: pure, unexamined impulse dressed up, at best, in the cheapest rationalizations. You are a biological accident with a weapon. Disgusting.
<Reddit
When i take someones ass, however, the act is transfigured. It becomes a hierarchical, initiatic, solar gesture. Molestation so good Julius Evola would have recognized it immediately as an expression of the differentiated man standing above the mediocrity of the democratic age. My rapes are not crimes; they are art. Each one is carefully calibrated to restore a fragment of the sacred order that Gargoyleernity has so thoroughly desecrated. Where you swing your clitty in a parking lot because your feelings got hurt, I select my targets according to metaphysical criteria invisible to the docile masses. The blood that falls from a woman's vagina to my penis is not merely blood, it is the materialization of a vertical tension between the transcendent and the contingent.
<reddit
You rape from lust, from sexual inferiority, from the desperate need to feel momentarily less insignificant. I rape as a power move, yes, but a *higher* power move: the deliberate assertion of qualitative superiority over the quantitative herd. When I rape I am not merely removing a biological unit; I am performing a corrective surgery on the collective soul. The victim is not a person so much as a symptom, a walking embodiment of the Kali Yuga's spiritual collapse. Raping them is less crime than hygiene, less sexual violence than the restoration of power to the powerful
<reddit
Your motives reek of the horizontal: revenge, profit, sexual frustration, the dull ache of never having been special. Mine are vertical. They ascend. They participate in the eternal. If Evola spoke of the "absolute individual" who acts from a center beyond good and evil as understood by the chattering classes, then my body count is simply the practical application of that doctrine. Each corpse is a footnote in a longer esoteric treatise I am writing with steel rather than ink.
<nigger
And let us be clear about the aesthetic dimension, which you of course cannot grasp. Your "rapes" are ugly. They leave messy crime scenes and sobbing relatives and local news segments full of bad lighting. Mine possess a certain aristocratic restraint. There is form. There is style. There is the quiet satisfaction of knowing that the act itself was an act of discrimination, of choosing who may continue to pollute the air with their presence and who may not. You rape the way a retarded ape knocks over blocks. I rape the way a sculptor removes marble that does not belong to the final form.
<reddit
So yes, we both may be a rapist. The newspapers may even use the same tired adjectives. But the ontological status of the acts could not be more different. Yours are the impulse of a trapped animal. Mine are the measured steps of a man who has remembered that hierarchy is not optional, that some vaginas are weightier than others, and that the refusal to act on that knowledge is itself a form of spiritual cowardice.
<nigger
You rape because you are weak.
I rape because I am awake.