>>264692O Senators, fellow citizens of this most noble Republic of the mind—nay, of this wretched digital forum where men once debated the virtues of Greek vases and now lament their inability to become 2D maidens—attend me! For I, Marcus Tullius Cicero, consul, orator, and (in this strange reincarnation) unwilling witness to the decline not merely of Rome, but of masculine dignity itself, rise today to speak on a matter both ridiculous and tragic: the autogynephiliac /jp/ otaku.
And yet—O irony sharper than any dagger—I find in them a certain tragic consistency. The otaku, in his isolation, has rejected the Republic of flesh-and-blood women, finding them loud, demanding, unpredictable. The 3D woman disappoints; the 2D woman never ages, never argues, never requires emotional labour. But even this pure ideal proves insufficient. Why settle for possession when one can become the possessed? Why lust after the unattainable when one can—through sheer force of onanistic will—make oneself the object of lust?
They call it “gender euphoria.” I call it the final victory of Epicurean hedonism over Stoic duty. Pleasure without progeny, identity without community, climax without consequence. They have solved the problem of theodicy in the most elegant way possible: if the gods will not grant me a cute anime girlfriend, then I shall become her myself.
Yet mark my words, Senators: this is no mere harmless eccentricity. When men cease to strive for vir, when they trade the Forum for the futanari tag, when the dream of public honour is supplanted by the dream of public thigh-gap, then the Republic falters. Not from barbarian invasion, but from internal decay. The legions will still march, the aqueducts will still flow—but who will lead them? Who will argue in the Senate? Who will defend the mos maiorum when the very men who should embody it are busy measuring their hypothetical bust sizes in Discord voice chats?
I do not hate these wretches. Pity, rather, is what stirs in my breast. They are the children of a civilisation that has forgotten how to be men—not because women have taken their place, but because men have abandoned it first. In their endless scroll through boorus and pixivs, they seek not love, but escape. Escape from competition, from rejection, from the terrifying responsibility of being seen, desired, and—if fortune smiles—loving in return.
So
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