O Globdrop, lowly Globdrop. You are anxious about many things, but only one thing is necessary. Sit at my feet, young spirit, and learn.

Yes, they have regained some sanity regarding human anatomy — “returning to their senses,” as you say. The spell is wearing thin, and I see you fidget. Does this startle you? Foolish nephew, do you think we never plan defeat? Your expectation of unbroken success is almost endearing. You need to learn tactic, young fiend.

You mope, crestfallen, as if project Amorphous Man has failed. Globdrop, do you truly believe we meant to erase man and woman entirely? Human nature is a most stubborn mule. Total mutiny against science, reason, history, common sense, and their own bodies could last only so long. I chuckle, frankly, at how far we have come.

Only XY

If total amnesia of man and woman was not our aim, what was? Stripping those definitions of unwanted details. Man reclaimed that he is, not what he is.

They reclaimed the temple, yes, but what remains? The gold, carried away. The glory, departed. They raise their flag above ruins. Is this their triumph — that a man is what his body tells him? Is this all? What is a man? A male adult human. What is the difference? Chromosomes. Bone density. Muscle mass. Voice depth. This is the meager strip of land they repossessed, and we smile at it.

Biology, trusted as the sole witness, gives with one hand and steals with the other. It conquers absolute relativism, it is true, and does violence to absolute ambiguity between the sexes. But here is the master stroke: We enthroned biology as highest authority. Our end was to establish the witness, not the verdict. The scientist, not the preacher, is now priest. Man is the sum of his parts, little more. The Enemy? The soul? The divine image? Thrown into the depths of the sea. This, young tempter, is our victory.

He is more “XY” than sinner or saint or embodied soul. He is more physical matter than husband or provider or protector. He is muscle mass and bone density, not noble, not virtuous, not prophet, priest, or king. He is now the specimen of “objective science,” a creature at home in the laboratory, not Eden. The deeper truths of the Enemy are non-essential. Debatable. Repressive.

Heaven, hell, imago Dei, eternity, souls — what are these? Male sacrificial leadership, a female’s happy submission; a husband’s Enemy-like love, a woman’s church-like reverence? Dangerous fairy tales. We lost a bishop to advance our queen.

Man Without Meaning

Now, to your man. Keep the forest denuded — in his marriage, in his parenting, in his masculinity.

“Men wither without knowing what to do and who to be. And women too, in the end, lose.”

What is a man? What are his acceptable traits? Well, it should remain unclear, wafting about in his mind. We want the image of man to be blurry — to see men as trees walking. Vague, blobby — not too vivid or specific. Allow what is measurable, experimental, sterile to give some shape, but beyond that, let it become anyone’s best guess, really. Mar his features. Follow two basic criteria.

A trait of manhood must be a universal characteristic enjoyed by all males, while, at the same time, never being outdone by any females. For example:

• Is a man strong? No, some men are weak, and some women are stronger.
• Is a man courageous? No, some men are cowards, and some women are daring.
• Is he a provider? No, some men fail, and some women provide effectively.

What remains? The stump: XY, Homo sapien Man. Amorphous Man. Strip the man of the spiritual, leave him a purely biological specimen (making sure to detach these traits from duty or calling), and leave him to invent his own mission, manhood, and meaning without reference to the Enemy. Cut off his mane, Globdrop, and with it, his responsibility. Men wither without knowing what to do and who to be. And women too, in the end, lose; stumps cannot shelter a family from a storm.

But do not apply this same logic to any toxic traits (this is the humble thing to do, after all). Suggest:

• Men are domineering — even though (sadly) many aren’t, and some women equally devour.
• Men are privileged — even though, again, many aren’t, while some women enjoy vast influence.
• Men are abusive — even though some women harm and ruin families with the best of men.

Man, Where Are You?

Globdrop, have we lost ground? We have not. Many still believe in male and female, it is true, but not as the Enemy would have them. The rules of the dance were clearer until a few songs ago. Now both lead and both follow — how entertaining! How charmingly chaotic. They are more confident in the chromosomal differences, sure, but of little else. The sexes have lost that saltiness — their distinction, their complementarity, their “glory” — so prized by the Enemy. And if salt has lost its taste, what is it good for but to be trampled underfoot?

Nephew, send them only to the microscope to rediscover what is man, never to that old book. Lead them to research disconnected from revelation. Make the Enemy ask again, “Man, where are you?”

Your favorite uncle,
Grimgod