A few years back, a far more degenerate and roguish Aidan MacLear than the one who stands at this pulpit of modern heresies had a certain girl in the place of (dis)honor at the head of his rotating harem of casual fuckbuddies. She was not the prettiest of girls, nor the most pleasant company, nor the most sexually voracious. And yet she exercised a curious pull over my black heart and my member both.
What was it about her? I had no idea, for the longest time. She was cute enough, she had a lithe and sexy though not flawless body, and we had fun together when we weren’t in the sack, though we were far from a perfect match. And yet we not only felt a warm kinship toward each other, but shared a volcanic sexual chemistry together that surpassed all but a handful of girls on my side, and on hers, every partner she had ever had. Both of these were rather inexplicable given who and what she was, and who and what I was.
Oh, but I found out eventually. I knew already that her ancestry and mine called the same country home. Eventually I bothered to ask her where in the country. To my surprise, it was within 20 miles of the ancient seat of my own family. So I looked up her family name. As it turns out, her family, of old, were vassals and sworn swords of my more noble and important clan, living on our lands and fighting by our side in war. (We were eventually stripped of most of our holdings for siding with the Cavaliers and fighting Cromwell). I used to joke that I owned her, and I’d be summoning her father and brothers to fight for me when I overthrew the state.
Anyway, this girl, should we have been born 500 years prior on the windswept highlands, or had feudalism persisted to this day, would, in all likelihood, have been a serious candidate for my marriage if not my wife! And we shared a strange bond and affinity that seemed to surpass a sober hindsight assessment of how much we ought to like each other, in just the same way that we love our brothers and cousins who may be unlike us in temperament or personality.
Coincidence? My friend, I do not believe in coincidences anymore. I do believe in genetics. The Westermarck Effect evolved to prevent close incest, but otherwise we are meant to suss out genetic similarities in our potential mates and couple with those who were like unto ourselves. When mixing races, it is not the qualities of intelligence and so on that suffer most but the spiritual weltanschauung that is diluted. I now believe this to be the case, to a lesser extent, for marriages across the lines of European subgroups, and all the way down to the most local level.
Perhaps we have become well and truly alienated, and it is impossible for us to understand the bliss of living in a community where everyone was kin, where the odd bond of affinity I shared with this girl was the rule and not the exception, for every kind of relationship from the husband and wife to the Lord and his servants. Marriages were happier, the sex was better (even if it wasn’t mentioned in polite company), and every time you spoke to another, that sense of loyalty and fraternity was reaffirmed. Genetic similarity may have been a lube that greased the wheels of every institution, from the freehold to the great halls of State.
Of course, I speculate. One person is not a sample size of any worth. But I have good instincts, and from experience, I always did have better sexual chemistry with lovers of the same national ancestry, and got along better with them too. My sample size is large enough for that observation at least. It’s not too far fetched to think that it scales down to the local level…
I believe that every man should make pilgrimage to stand upon the ancestral soil from which he sprung, to breathe the air and immerse himself in the environment that shaped his genes over the long years.
And, though an absurdly tall order, to find a wife whose ancestors hail from the same patch of ground as yours.