There but for the Grace of God...
Jonnie Comet
17 July 2000
So you’ve got yourself to middle school now, and you’re unlucky
enough to go to a coeducational school, where the guys are. And you’d hoped to find that they all really
like you, because it’d make your life easier, since you’d love to know that at
least one of them likes you in particular, because after all that’s what we’re
all supposed to want, right? But so far
here’s how they’ve been treating you:
Your shoe’s untied and you stop and bend over to tie it and some
guys walk by and one of them says something about your tush or the angle you’re
on or how the level of your head is ‘just right’. Or you’re reaching up to shove the books into
your locker and one of the guys says something about how high your top rides up
or what size you must be now or what a ‘nice handful’ one or two things might
make. Or maybe you hit the jackpot and
get an actual one-to-one with one of them, and after a few minor words he says
something about ‘getting together’ and starts asking you about your dating
experience, and what you’ve done and what you haven’t, and whether you’d try
this or that if only you had the right guy– indicating himself of course– and you
feel profoundly embarrassed because you haven’t the faintest clue about what
he’s saying except that you know other people are talking about it too and,
after all, you’re smart enough to figure it out, but you’re not sure you need
to know about it like he’s suggesting you should, and you feel like an idiot
until he really starts driving at you with the questions and you get the urge
to just run away like a scared rabbit, punch him or at least hurl one good
solid verbal insult back at him, and all those other guys too, something with a
wonderfully nasty-looking wince on your face and one or two choice obscenities
thrown in to let him know you don’t indulge in his kind of slime, the miserable
scumball that he is, but you know that when you do he’ll just seem to like it
more and keep at it and, worse, he’ll tell everyone else too, so you can get
known like that.
Have I got any of this right so far?
This seems to happen all the time, with every guy that’s even
remotely interesting. And the only thing
you can think by now is that you must really be a total tart. You didn’t used to be; but everything about
your life is totally different than it was three years ago. Well, first, you’ve got a body now– you
didn’t have that three years ago.
Everyone seems to be paying attention to you– men and women both. You’ve got a shape other women love to hate
you for, and you dress like you don’t care– or worse, like you do, and they
hate you for it either way. The men–
well, you know what the men are thinking, and if you don’t you will in another
year or so. Every guy from 12 to 100
stares at you; and the awful part is, there’s a good-sized bit of you that
actually likes it, and, even worse, there’s a little bit of you that actually
wouldn’t mind doing whatever it is they’ve got in mind. Oh, Lord! –what a tart you must be.
Now the Darwinists will say that all of this is perfectly
natural, that the strange attraction you feel towards that kind of scumball is
normal and you ought to be brave enough, or intelligent enough, to just admit
it and accept it. But there’s a problem
with believing this. It suggests our
basest feelings represent our true selves, that we are nothing higher than
naked apes and it’s the way of all flesh.
That’s a pretty sad way to think.
If we were put on this earth with all the marvellous faculties and
abilities we have for no other reason than to do as all other warm-blooded
creatures do, then what’s the point of being here? All our logic and faith tells us this can’t
be the case. Man, as an animal, is an
admirable piece of work... ‘how noble in reason, how infinite in faculties, the
beauty of the world, the paragon of animals.’
It’s a crying shame to simply toss all that out and deny that we are
ever called towards more than birth, sex, nursing a few infants, and death.
But people who accept the Darwin argument are never
going to be truly valuable in society– they only think they are because there’s
so many of them; and the reason there are so many of them is because it’s an intellectually
lazy way to think. And men in particular are particularly lazy
intellectually. When a guy comes on to
you with the attitude that ‘You’re a girl; I’m a guy– hey, let’s get together’,
remind yourself that he probably follows an ideology suggesting he is directly
descended from smelly apes who poop on each other, and the resemblance at the
time ought to be crystal-clear to you.
The truth is that there are only two things keeping you from
being the tart you have been dreading you’ve already become. The first is the love of God. I’m not saying the will of God– no, not His
will, powerful as that may be. No, I
mean the love of God– that true love, unconditional, unchanging,
never-ending. This is the love of a good
father, who cares for you and teaches you and protects you from hazardous
situations, and then takes you back in with open arms and repairs the damage
when you’ve gone wrong anyway. So you
always have somewhere to turn whenever you are in doubt of what to do or how to
act. No child of God will ever be
unwelcome in His house, because He chooses to love us all. So you are never lost, bad as you think your
situation might be.
The other thing is your will.
God grant you a will like His own, so that you would have the ability to
choose between His way and any other way.
Certainly God is not interested in seeing you become a tart. But all His efforts at trying to prove to you
that He exists and that you ought to follow Him will amount to nothing if you
choose to turn your pretty head and ignore what He’s trying to say. You have to remember that at any given time,
you can say ‘Yes’ or ‘No’. You can
decide what you will be– tart or virtuous woman, the choice is all yours and you
can’t blame anyone but yourself.
Only those who choose to believe in God and accept His love and
His rules for good living ever realise this.
They are saved even before they have doubts, because they know there is
always an alternative to sin, and that is to follow God, live under His roof,
abide by His house rules, have His protection, receive His love. God is your best friend and your most
powerful ally. He can bear any
confidence and intercede in any problem you have. –‘If God is with us, who can be against us?’
Now the next time some guy makes a lewd comment, it would be
unchristian to reduce yourself to his level and respond in kind. Don’t play his game at all. When he looks at you with sinful thoughts on
his mind you play right into his hand by replying sinfully. No; the correct thing to do is to smother him with virtue. Act as though you don’t understand what he
said– never mind that it makes you blush.
Say, ‘Pardon me?’ First of all,
just saying that in a respectful tone will throw him off. Guys don’t know how to deal with a young lady
using real manners. Oh; he’ll try again
in some other way, if he’s really persistent. But you’ll respond again like
before. –‘I’m sorry; do I know you?’ –or,
‘I’m sorry; did you want to talk with me?’ –or something to indicate you were not
aware you were supposed to value what he’s just said, as though you’re too nice
to have got it at all.
The main thing is to do it with absolutely the best manners and
most ladylike– let’s even call it ‘prissy’ –tone that you can. A scumball can’t handle that. He’ll immediately brand you a prude and go
off in search of someone who gives him less trouble; and what should you care
if he calls you a prude? –for the opinion of a scumball isn’t worth anything
and sooner or later everyone figures that out.
You may wonder now why simply insulting him isn’t easier to be
rid of him faster. Well, you’re
thinking; and at least you do want to be rid of him. The reason insults won’t work is because deep
down inside this kind of guy believes that he really is a scumball. See; it’s the Darwin idea at work. When you insult him, it meshes with that– he
doesn’t even know it well enough to admit it, but you’ve just validated his
deepest beliefs. It’s easy for him then. He doesn’t have to try to be anything more
than a scumball, because the woman he’s attracted to already accepts him that
way. He’ll continue to insult and
degrade you until he’s certain he’s brought you down to his level, where he
feels most secure– where he is in charge, in his scumball world. The single worst thing a woman can ever do is
to allow a man to believe that being nothing more than a scumball is
acceptable.
Ultimately, countering with politeness will do exactly the
opposite. It doesn’t change the fact
that the guy is interested in girls. It
won’t change the fact that he still may believe some of them are available
tarts. What’s different is how he will
change after attempting to insult you.
You let him know that acting like a scumball is unacceptable, that if he
wants your attention he’s going to have to earn it, and that he’ll have to try
being more gentlemanly and polite to do it.
Now there are two kinds of guys who’ll insult you and they’ll
each handle this differently. The true
scumball doesn’t want to change from being a scumball; and, since you obviously
want him to change, he’s not going to go there.
He’s lazy. He’ll decide that
you’re not worth his effort and just go after a real tart who doesn’t ask him
to be anything but a scumball. The
sooner he realises this, the sooner he’ll give up on you. You don’t need this guy anyway; so my advice
is to be quick about it and spare both yourself and him a lot of aggravation.
The other guy is the one who acts like a scumball because he
thinks it’s expected of him because so many other guys seem to be scumballs; but he has a great potential for being a gentleman. This guy will at least try to rise to the
challenge you give him. He’ll
immediately apologise and possibly go away and approach you later with a better
comment. Be wary– but sound him and see
how well he does. It might be amusing. It might even lead to something good. After all, by trying to look like less of a
scumball he’s making an effort to earn you.
But don’t let your guard down.
Don’t even meet him halfway. Let
him know in no uncertain terms that it’s going to take everything he’s
got. If he’s worth it, he’ll meet the
challenge. If he’s really just a
scumball after all, he’ll give up and you won’t have lost anything anyway.
Of course a guy who’s already a gentleman would not have made the
lewd comment in the first place. He’s
probably been gazing at you from afar and, I assure you, though he is not
stupid his thoughts are anything but lewd.
One day you will meet eyes with him, and he will say shyly, ‘Hi.’ It might take another few weeks for him to
say more than that. This is the way he
sounds you out. The best way to
encourage him is by keeping your guard up and keeping your standards high,
because that’s what’s attracting him to you.
Don’t worry about losing him– if he’s really good enough he’ll pass
every test, and you won’t end up with a scumball. This is how confident girls with less than
goddess-like looks are able to get attention.
They attract it by sheer force of goodness. Lesser people can’t handle that. You see, it’s got nothing to do with your looks. It’s got everything to do with your virtue.
The deep-down secret which every guy will ultimately confess is
that he just wants a nice, sweet, innocent, virtuous girl to fall
head-over-heels in love with no-one but him.
Note, I said every guy. Most of
them know what’s required. The best of
them already try to do it. The scumballs
are just either stupid or lazy– probably both.
There’s simply no reason to accept a scumball; and you should never give
up as so many modern women do and say, ‘All guys are scumballs’. If that appears true it’s only because there
are so many lazy or stupid women out there who accept them that way. Most guys are essentially lazy– they won’t
change if they don’t have to. The best
ones are hard workers and they’ll accept any challenge if the reward is
appropriate.
This is where you come in.
You see, you are the reward. We
all know you don’t get something for nothing– everything has its price. And... ‘the price of a virtuous woman is far
above rubies.’
* * *
