*Warning: Guys Only Past This Point*
I, the great Musclini, despite having a perfect immune system, have fallen ill. Because of this, my typical 300 IQ takes have been reduced to about 150, and my masterful creative writing style has been reduced to that of a mere English professor. But alas, I cannot sit here and be silent while Binghamton Review releases an issue promoting mental disease and impurity, so here we go.
“You’re an Incel.” Have you ever heard that one? If so, good. Hearing that means you are doing something right. “Incel,” or “Involuntary Celibacy” is a term used to describe someone who is celibate because nobody wants him. In practice, however, the term is used by bitter women to describe someone who isn’t simping for them. For example, I get called an incel all the time, and believe me, I could if I wanted to. The term has very recently been hijacked to describe anyone who doesn’t subscribe to the culture of sex that has been created in this society. What “culture of sex,” you may ask. What I am referring to is exactly what you see in this issue of Binghamton Review. It is the system where immoral, degenerate acts are being framed as completely normal and fun. We, of course, accept this because we are all addicted to it. We are addicted to filthy thoughts, pornography, masturbation, and, if given the option, sex. While you are desperately chasing your next dopamine hit like a heroine addict, does it ever occur to you how diseased you are? How it took thousands of years of familial bloodline, conquering, surviving, creating, just to end up as some sad fuck spending most of his time thinking about stimulating his penis? If only there was a better way…
This is where the titular term comes in. “Volcel,” or “Voluntary Celibacy” is a term used to describe someone who is celibate because he chooses to be. A volcel is someone who is free, both from the slave-like attachment to sex and sexual thought that most of us have, and from the commands of women around us who we will happily do anything for in hopes of obtaining some coochie afterwards. To become volcel means to rise above modernity, to rise above this culture that promotes the mental illness of promiscuity and the breaking up of the family, and to return to the state of being that made our grandparents and great grandparents thrive (keeping it in their pants until it was time to make babies). At least I hope that applies to your predecessors. If not, you might be fucked. To me, faith in God and respect for my family is enough reason not to go constantly coom everywhere. But for you… “others”… I’ll lay out a dirty capitalist argument for becoming VOLCEL. After about 90 days of not cooming, you begin to stop thinking about your addiction to opening the floodgate. This then gives you time to focus on other aspects of your life that could have been lacking under the prior, hornier administration. If all of your time m*sturb*ting, thinking about or having s*x, watching ***n, or t*xting g*rls was instead spent GOING TO THE GYM, GETTING YOUR WORK DONE, GETTING EIGHT HOURS OF SLEEP, DRINKING A GOOD AMOUNT OF WATER DAILY, I think you would be very surprised with the results. Gentlemen, it is time to reject our primitive instincts, our disgusting desires that make us unhappy when provided for, and embrace true growth. It’s time we start saving it until marriage, and until then, become VOLCEL.
Who am I trying to convince right now? Like with all of my pieces, nobody. I am just spitting straight facts, and if anyone becomes enlightened by it, cool. However, it is required that you have a higher understanding of the world in order to understand my works, so I get it if it’s a little hard to comprehend. But basically, I will keep getting better, and if you want to keep satisfying your neurological addiction with the “durrrrr hehe funny sex joke” pages in this issue, go for it. You will drift more towards chimpanzees while I march towards God’s image. Don’t understand that? Don’t care. You either get it, or you don’t.