Jack Donovan
September 30, 2019 Journal

On Friendship

Elliot Hulse wrote something the other day about not showing your weakness — every questioning feeling, thought, insecurity or fear — to a woman.

He’s right, and I’d like to add that this extends to friendship. A man isn’t really your friend until he knows you and knows your life and what makes you tick. He’s probably truly a friend if he’s seen you stumble a little, and stuck around to help you up. 

If a friend thou hast | whom thou fully wilt trust,
And good from him wouldst get,
Thy thoughts with his mingle, | and gifts shalt thou make,
And fare to find him oft. 

— Hávamál 44

You are not every thought that you have. YOU are the EGO that filters your thoughts and decides which thoughts matter. Anyone who knows me knows I’m pretty much an open book, but there are limits to how much sharing is productive. No man needs to get your brain’s unfiltered livestream. It can ruin a friendship, and as someone once told me rightly when I was making that mistake, if you give every thought a voice, it can ruin you and another man’s opinion of you. 

Men can’t afford to be careless, and in the past, they were more guarded.

It’s tactically smarter, and it’s philosophically, psychologically and spiritually better for them.

Boomer feminists have been bitterly attacking the “John Wayne” ideals of their “emotionally distant” dads who fought in WWII since the late 1960s. They lure men in with a “get out of manhood free” card. The one thing they have to offer is something only the worst men want — the freedom to be weak. To luxuriate in weakness and confusion and emotional chaos. But we are men, and men create order, light — cosmos

Nietzsche had a quote about friendship that is worth considering here. 

Thou wouldst wear no raiment before thy friend? It is in honour of thy friend that thou showest thyself to him as thou art? But he wisheth thee to the devil on that account! He who maketh no secret of himself shocketh: so much reason have ye to fear nakedness! Aye, if ye were Gods, ye could then be ashamed of clothing! Thou canst not adorn thyself fine enough for thy friend; for thou shalt be unto him an arrow and a longing for the Superman.

— Nietzsche, Thus Spake Zarathustra

Misery loves company, but no one looks up to misery. Misery is something to look down at.