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The promised return has come, dazzling as ever, right on schedule



What a lovely Labor Day weekend that was. As a new week begins, I find myself reflecting over all that happened these past three days. I must say what’s on my heart.

When you left last January, you assured me you would come back. I remember that moment like it was yesterday — your abrupt departure in the wee hours of a Tuesday morning.

Some of you for a time is better than none of you at all. I’ve come to accept this.

Seven months will go by “just like that,” you coyly suggested. That’s how I remember it, as the room went dark immediately upon your absence. Why must you do this to me?

I tried to wait for you, and by and large, I was successful. The truth is that but for a brief fling of madness in March, there’s been an unmistakable “you-shaped” hole in my life.

I never want to feel this emptiness again, yet something tells me that before long, it will happen again. Looking back, it’s the Saturdays without you that were the hardest.

I needn’t remind you that we spent that entire day together, you and I, from early morning to well past midnight. Other friends came and went, but I never took my eyes off you.

Those were happy times, with homemade soup on the stove, a fire on the hearth, and you, even more radiant than the turning colors outside, the center of my undivided attention.

I realize a bird of your beguiling plumage is meant to be free, and I’ve no right to keep you all to myself. But keep you I shall for the blissful time we’ve been given to spend together. When I’m not gazing lovingly at you, know this: I will be thinking of you.

Oh, the places we’ll go now that you’re back! Athens will be special this fall, rich in history and tradition as it is; Oxford, too. I suspect we’ll make memories together in many other places as well. Come January, you’re sure to bowl me over with some surprises of your own.

Speaking of that cruelest of months when, as if on a predetermined schedule, you flee, I shall try not to grow sullen. I’ll pursue other interests to take my lovesick mind off you. But it won’t be the same, for there is only one you. Nothing even comes close.

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Alfieri via iStock/Getty Images

I know I’m not the only man who longs for you. I’m not even the only man on my cul-de-sac who longs for you. But you were crystal clear about this arrangement from the very beginning. I’m not the first, and I won’t be the last. Some of you for a time is better than none of you at all. I’ve come to accept this.

You know something? That’s enough pining by me. It’s all water under the bridge now. What matters most is that you have once again returned, as promised.

Absence has made the heart grow fonder. We are together again, my beloved, and for the next five months I’ll have eyes for nobody — and I mean nobody — except you.

Oh, how I have missed you, college football.

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You were built for meaning, not cheap pleasure



For most of human history, scarcity was the enemy. Territory, calories, energy, and land all had to be fought for, hoarded, and rationed. Wars were waged and innovations forged to survive deprivation. But the material hardship that once united societies in common struggle has largely faded in the affluent world.

Now we face a different enemy: artificial abundance.

The future belongs to those who reject the simulacrum and embrace reality.

In the wealthiest nations, human beings are no longer selected for resilience in the face of scarcity. They’re selected for their ability to resist the seductions of abundance — synthetic food, fake relationships, dopamine on demand. The danger isn’t hunger or want, but the numbing comfort of simulated satisfaction.

Loaded with empty calories

Once, entire civilizations rose or fell depending on their ability to produce and preserve food. Famines routinely devastated societies, and most people spent their lives just trying to eat.

Now, calories come cheap and easy. Factory farming, food science, and global logistics mean even the poorest Americans can gorge on processed junk. A trip to McDonald’s or a few bucks at Walmart buys a week’s worth of empty calories.

But artificial flavorings and chemical fillers are no substitute for real food. They simulate nourishment, but slowly poison the body. Calories are now so available that obesity, not hunger, is the largest threat to the well-being of the poor. The need has been met — and subverted.

Sex and glory, sold cheap

The same dynamic has corrupted sexual desire. Historically, sex drove men to build civilizations, conquer enemies, win wealth, and rise in status. Today, that drive is short-circuited. Men can now simulate conquest and fulfillment without risk, pain, or purpose — through pornography and video games.

Why fight for honor or love when you can get the illusion of both from a screen? Instead of greatness, many young men settle for a life of digital masturbation — and that’s how the system likes it. Young men remain trapped in a kind of eternal adolescence: satisfied just enough to avoid rebellion, addicted just enough to stay quiet.

Fake attention, real loneliness

Social media and dating apps have similarly distorted the lives of young women. Women crave connection, validation, and community — roles they once fulfilled in family, faith, and friendship.

Now they chase attention online, deluding themselves into believing that likes and comments are the same as love and loyalty. Social media simulates female community and male desire, but gives neither. Depression rises. Real-life relationships crumble. Women fear male attention in person but crave it online, where they feel in control.

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Blaze Media Illustration

What results is a dysfunctional, hypergamous dating market. Men won’t approach. Women hold out for the fantasy of the “perfect man” who never arrives. Both sexes lose.

Lockdowns revealed the lie

COVID-19 lockdowns showed us the true danger of attempting to simulate every aspect of human experience.

During the lockdowns, social interactions from school, church, work, and even bonding with friends over a meal became impossible. School, church, work, friendship — all of it was forcibly digitized.

The results were catastrophic: soaring depression, stalled childhood development, and broken education.

But the worst part? People stayed in their digital cages even after the doors opened. Simulated connection became easier than real interaction. And easier won.

The real thing is harder — and worth it

Reality demands effort. Family, community, faith, and responsibility are hard. They hurt. They risk rejection. But they matter.

Left alone with simulated choices, most people will pick the path of least resistance. That’s why society must rethink what it rewards. Because the simulations aren’t harmless distractions — they’re traps.

The French philosopher Jean Baudrillard called this phenomenon the “simulacrum” — a copy with no original. A cheeseburger that isn’t food. AI “friends” that aren’t human and virtual “communities” that cannot possibly relieve loneliness. A porn star who looks and behaves nothing like a real woman. Online attention that ruins offline romance. Video game violence that replaces true heroism.

An evolutionary filter

We face an evolutionary bottleneck as serious as any in human history. But instead of favoring the strong, smart, or adaptable, survival now depends on who can say no.

Can you say no to simulated sex? Simulated success? Simulated community? Can you hunger for meaning, not just comfort?

Those who make it through this filter will be the ones who choose austerity over ease — who hunger for the real thing. The future belongs to those who reject the simulacrum and embrace reality.

Artificial intelligence will only make these temptations worse. But those who refuse to be pacified will also be the ones who endure.

Choose meaning. Teach your children to do the same. The future depends on it.

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[rebelmouse-proxy-image https://thefederalist.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/07/Screenshot-2025-07-03-at-3.09.56 PM-1200x675.png crop_info="%7B%22image%22%3A%20%22https%3A//thefederalist.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/07/Screenshot-2025-07-03-at-3.09.56%5Cu202fPM-1200x675.png%22%7D" expand=1]The 49-year-old multimillionaire and mother of two approaches sex with all the maturity of a beer-chugging frat boy.

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