How My Grandfather Destroyed the West
A unifying theory of sexual revolutions
To clarify, he wasn’t exactly my grandfather, and he didn’t exactly destroy the West. Well, not by himself, anyway. I’ll explain.
The man I’m calling my grandfather, for the purposes of this essay, did in fact literally beget my mother. But he had no part in raising her, and she never met him, for which she’s spent her life thanking God. You can read her origin story in a long essay I wrote here, told from the perspective of her birth mother. It could wryly be said that Mom was a child of the sexual revolution, born of an ill-fated dalliance between a free love guru and one of his many groupies. I’ve been asked not to divulge his name, which, despite his best efforts, now lies in the obscurity it so richly deserves. So let’s leave it there and call him “George.”
