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Commenter Max from Australia ponders an elegant mathematical formula of marital satisfaction.

If a Man and a woman both have 20 sex partners: the odds are:::

1/20 X 1/20 = 1/400

That they will both be sexually satisfied by the one they marry.

Close, but no didgeridoo!

The concept is correct. The more past partners each spouse has, the less likely they will be sexually satisfied with their one remaining lifetime spouse.

The problem with this formula is that the variables aren’t equivalent. As we know, women with a lot of past lovers are less able to be happy in marriage. Men with a lot of past lovers are better able to leave their past in the past and not get hung up on nitpicking deficiencies in their current lovers.

So a man with 20 partners is more like a woman with 4 past partners. And a woman with 20 past partners is more like a man with 100 past partners.

The sexual history-sexual satisfaction equation would then be:

1/5(1/n{man}) partners X 1/n{woman} partners = odds of mutual sexual satisfaction within a marriage.

The greater odds of a formerly promiscuous man being happy in a marriage must be balanced against the lower odds of a formerly promiscuous woman being happy in a marriage. The woman becomes the bounding variable, but the overall odds of mutual marital happiness go down a little with the man’s total former partner count. A woman with 100 past lovers has only a 1% chance of marital happiness by herself, but the chance of mutual marital happiness decreases to 0.1% if the man has had only two prior lovers.

My probability math is a little rusty, so I welcome commenters to adjust this SH-SS equation to more accurately reflect the underlying sociosexual realities.

Slap a ho!

I keed I keed. But you should do the verbal equivalent of a firm pimp slap. A reader emails,

Here’s a topic you haven’t covered directly: how do you handle a girl who reprimands you? You had a post on handling bad behavior that was focused more on text game and flakiness, but here is the situation I ran into:

I met a gruff but attractive 20-yo EE girl when visiting western Europe (I’m 30). We took a cab and in this country it’s not common to tip the driver, or they round up to the nearest euro. I paid and the guy was taking his sweet time returning my change (~2 euro). The girl sternly rebuked me for not letting him keep the change as she felt the amount was small. Now set aside that I don’t appreciate being called cheap when I’m the one paying for the taxi ride, and that she may or may not have been correct, how should I have handled this?

I just ignored her which I think is not the best way to deal with her lecturing me like a child. But even in retrospect I can’t figure out anything much better. Thoughts?

She sounds like an ingrate cunt. Be that as it may, she could still be fuckable. So you want to know how you could have maintained an alpha male frame under her withering impugning of your manhood. (Calling a man cheap is like calling a woman ugly. The thermal exhaust ports are different in men and women.)

Glad you came here! First, a question. Did the girl scold you in front of the taxi driver? Because that’s worse than if she had saved a time later to express her displeasure. Dressing you down in the driver’s company means she wanted to enlist an ally to her cause. This is unacceptable behavior, even from a hottie.

If she did it in front of the driver, the best lesson is one that steals her script and “volunteers” the driver as an unwilling third party to ostracize and embarrass her. Instead of addressing her, you turn to the driver and say with mock revelation,

“Hey, dude, she wants to give you an extra 5 euro. I think she likes you!”

Boom. Script flipped. Frame dynamited. Now she’s sitting there flustered and wondering how the hell she got into this mess and why it’s suddenly feeling so hot. Humor and insouciance is social judo; you have used the thrust of her parry against her.

Rule number one when dealing with women attempting a coup d’cast out: Convert her potential allies before she does.

All women are predisposed to win social battles by enlisting the aid of neutral parties. Women “win” when they have won the sympathies of the herd. To defeat this female prerogative, you must prevent her from acquiring those allies. And that means getting to them first. No matter the details of the dispute, when the herd is turned against a woman, she will surrender her beachhead faster than the Rotherham council of elders surrendered their district to Pakistani sex slave groomers. (Never too soon at CH.)

A similar dynamic is in evidence when you turn the crowd against an “AMOG”, and there are a slew of Youtube videos showing Tyler from RSD doing just this. Spergs have a hard time understanding this law of human nature: You never win heat-of-the-moment hierarchical maneuverings with appeals to logic; you win with appeals to the crowd’s emotional perceptions.

BUT, if she waited till later to chide you privately, then you have to take a different tack. Ignoring her isn’t going to cut the mustard when she’s ego-stabbed you front and square. You’ll need a strategy I call Allay & Flay.

The formula is simple: She reprimands you, you initially posture as if her point is worthy of consideration, and then you unsheathe your shiv.

HER: “Why didn’t you let the taxi driver keep the change?”

LUCIFER’S IDOL: “Hm. Good question…. [pregnant pause]… Next time I’ll leave more. I like it when a girl keeps tabs on my money.”

The key here is the reframe. You’ve moved the topic from your cheapness to her obsession with your money. This is an attack few women will successfully counter. She’ll fold into the defensive crouch like a cheap lawn chair. “I don’t keep tabs on your money!” “What are you trying to say?!” “Are you calling me a golddigger?!”

To any of these butthurt replies, a mighty hammer blow of righteousness will close the subject.

“How about this. From now on, if I’m making the financial decisions you keep your opinion to yourself. If you don’t like it…”

Then you motion to the open air with your outstretched arm. Or to the door if you’re indoors.

You have to mean it, otherwise she’ll sense your tentativeness and eat you alive. A firm frame that strongly communicates a take-her-or-leave-her attitude will either rid you of a nagging headache, or earn you an enamored lover.

The Rotherham Evil

eofahapi asks,

are you going to write about the Rotherham thing? It needs a voice that is not delusional like the “Not all Muslims are like that” blah blah blah.

There are two camps of thinking. One says Rotherham is the logical outcome of extreme white ethnomasochism, which is itself a manifestation of pathological altruism, a reflexive mental condition that evolved over millennia of outbreeding. In this take, self-loathing, holier-than-thou whites in positions of power (and less powerful whites refusing to demand accountability from their leaders) are so wedded to their equalist ideology that they will allow the rapes of 1,400 white women and girls by brown skinned goatherders to continue ad infinitum until they are called to the carpet by the preponderance of evidence (and by samizdat rebels releasing uncomfortable facts). This theory presupposes that the ethnomasochist ego is so tender and fragile it cannot withstand confrontation with ugly truths about the reality of race and diversity, so the ego acts to preserve itself with PC social rules that create a bubble of self-soothing pabulum which permits them to go on confident that their worldview isn’t discredited. Since ethnomasochists thrive on external validation from other ethnomasochists, what happens is that their status signaling apparatuses get warped into self-abnegating paeans to the lie that whites are the root of all evil.

The second theory is that the anti-white elite whites aren’t at all ethnomasochists, but are instead a burgeoning new (or orthogonally ancient) race of whites — and here I use the term race in its figurative as well as genetic senses — who don’t perceive themselves at all as part of a broader white identity that must be preserved against barbarian attack. If this theory is correct, the sacrifice of 1,400 white women to brown predations will hardly move them emotionally. They won’t feel sympathy because they don’t feel any kinship, and so for them to sweep the evil of non-whites committed against non-elite whites under the rug is practically a procedural formality with little consequence. If anything, they would welcome such third world predators as allies in their own psychological war against “less enlightened” whites.

Which theory is true, or more true, is debatable. What isn’t is that these traitors need to swing from the gallows soon, before their sickness infects us all and dooms us to extinction.

***

eofahapi also wonders about the nature of feminists,

Because we know that there are differences in male and female brains, if a woman had hyper testosterone, would she really be feminist? I am skeptical, because feminists tend to be not the most logic people. Feminism is a very emotion based movement, and if you try to challenge one with logic it usually becomes heated ad hominens.

Feminists appear to be burdened with the worst of each sex: The aggressive posturing of men combined with the emotional irrationality of women. Not unlike misbehaving children. And what do you do with misbehaving children? You set boundaries and punish them when they act up.

Stereotypes don’t materialize out of thin air. They exist because people make observations and notice patterns, and then draw generalizable conclusions based on what they see and experience. The accurate observations gain traction and become conventional wisdom, until such time the Krimethink Kommissar orders a media brainwashing blitz and the stereotypes are pushed into people’s subconscious world, where they are extracted by white coats in exercises designed to demoralize the enemy, such as implicit bias tests, and through open-source proxies like neighborhood demographics.

Add another widely-held but covertly-discussed stereotype: Not only are avowed feminists ugly and unhappy, they’re manly too!

Feminist activist women are masculinized in terms of digit-ratio and dominance: A possible explanation for the feminist paradox.

The feminist movement purports to improve conditions for women, and yet only a minority of women in modern societies self-identify as feminists. This is known as the feminist paradox. It has been suggested that feminists exhibit both physiological and psychological characteristics associated with heightened masculinization, which may predispose women for heightened competitiveness, sex-atypical behaviors, and belief in the interchangeability of sex roles. If feminist activists, i.e. those that manufacture the public image of feminism, are indeed masculinized relative to women in general, this might explain why the views and preferences of these two groups are at variance with each other. We measured the 2D:4D digit ratios (collected from both hands) and a personality trait known as dominance (measured with the Directiveness scale) in a sample of women attending a feminist conference. The sample exhibited significantly more masculine 2D:4D and higher dominance ratings than comparison samples representative of women in general, and these variables were furthermore positively correlated for both hands. The feminist paradox might thus to some extent be explained by biological differences between women in general and the activist women who formulate the feminist agenda.

(From the results section):

In summary, the feminist activist sample had a significantly smaller (i.e., masculinized) 2D:4D ratio than the general female samples. The size of this difference corresponds approximately to a 30 percent difference in prenatal testosterone/estradiol ratio, which was the index found to have the strongest association with 2D:4D (Lutchmaya, Baron-Cohen, Raggatt, Knickmeyer, & Manning, 2004). Directiveness self-ratings also exhibit a large and highly significant difference in the predicted direction. It is notable that the feminist activist sample 2D:4D was also more masculinized than those of the male comparison samples, except for the left hand in the aggregate sample (see Table 2).

As commenter chris, who forwarded this study, shivvily exclaimed:

Biology and ideology are intimately entwined. It should surprise no one who isn’t deliberately self-deluding that screechingly insane man-hating feminists are ugly, biologically masculine women who resent their sexual market invisibility to men and crave to rearrange society to accommodate their freakish unfeminine testosterone-drenched psychologies. To take a feminist seriously is to elevate the deviant to the normal. It’s akin to unloading thousands of liberty-loving Somalis onto Minnesota because you fervently believe they are just like Northwest Europeans in temperament and will assimilate any day now… oh wait.

Not coincidentally, the best allies feminists have got are plush, beboobed, effete male feminists who perhaps suffered a toxic dose of mom’s ovary juice while in the womb. We already have evidence that lardassery lowers a man’s serum testosterone, so given the current obesity plague ravaging the aesthetics of Western nations it makes sense that fat male feminists would suckle at the flapjack teats of domineering femcunts belched from the bowels of the Jezbuzzalon beast.

Talk about a sickly stew: Aggro feminists + mendacious manboobs. All the degenerate freak mafia ugly in the world compacted into a dense turd by the Hivemind megaphone for maximum truth-suppression and gimp ego masturbation.

The occasional concern troll will stop by here and ask “Why do you give feminists such a hard time? It’s not like they’ll listen.”

Ah, but the goal is not to reform lumpencronetariat feminist grotesques. They are laboratory pets from whom to excite howls of limbic pain with both the chainsaw and the scalpel. Amplified through the stone halls and domed atria of the Chateau, their pain serves as a lesson and a warning for the others.

Normal, pretty, feminine women may not know it, but they too are targets of feminist malignancy. Cursed with her unchangeable outer and inner ugliness, the self-declaratory feminist wagging her masculine 2D:4D fingers finds succor cutting her distant competition off at the knees. We are all Harrison Bergeron now, except for the dyke-y pigs making the rules.

That strategy will fail, as long as CH stands a citadel above the fetid swamp engulfing the West. Divide and conquer. Victory comes when the sick and demented are isolated and ostracized from the healthy and normal, the cultural immune system returned to full functioning, and the icy wastelands where spiteful misfits go to drown in tears of their unfathomable sadness are once again open for business.

Promiscuous men can handle their promiscuity better than promiscuous women can handle theirs.

Compare and contrast:

This is how a man looks after twenty lovers:

This is how a woman looks after twenty lovers:

That’s the thousand cock stare. You can’t miss it. It’s derangement that penetrates right to the soul.

Not only are promiscuous men more emotionally stable and contented than promiscuous women, they are also happier spouses.

Women who have several sexual partners before getting married have less happy marriages – but men do no harm by playing the field, a study has found.

According to  new research by the National Marriage Project, more than half of married women who had only ever slept with their future husband felt highly satisfied in their marriage.

But that percentage dropped to 42 per cent once the woman had had pre-marital sex with at least two partners. It dropped to 22 per cent for those with ten or more partners.

But, for men, the number of partners [sic] they [had] appeared to have no bearing on how satisfied they felt within a marriage.

Researchers said the study showed that sex with many different partners ‘may be risky’ if the woman is in search of a high-quality marriage.

If you heed not lies and accept the truth of biological and psychological sex differences, you won’t be surprised to learn that men, the sex with a trillion sperms to please their lovers, are hardwired to spread the seminal wealth without incurring psychotraumatic blowback. Men are geared from the get-go for poosy variety (though not all men will fulfill their directive and not all are geared in fifth) and therefore have the cortical capacity to easily tolerate the comings and goings of numerous lovers without having a breakdown or fretting constantly about how well new lovers match up to old lovers. Men occasionally reminisce about a teenage fling, but they don’t endlessly bemoan that one “alpha female” who got away like women are prone to do with their long-gone alpha male lovers.

This is why a man with a promiscuous past is not necessarily a bad bet as a marriage prospect, and also explains — along with the fact of maternity assurance — why women don’t care as much about men’s sexual histories as men care about women’s sexual histories. A man can sample the slits and furrows of outrageous fortune and survive the whirlwind of passion to mark a day in the future when he contentedly and without pathological second-guessing slips into a stabler, longer term commitment.

Women who have sampled a poo poo platter of penes accumulate emotional scars that never heal; promiscuous women have a mental storage closet filled with five minute montages of alpha male love, and these exciting, prurient memories rob the female id of something important. Call it purity or innocence or self-worth or ability to appreciate romantic idealism, the slut with ass chafing from riding the cock carousel is never the same as she was before she let herself get pummeled by dick. No uxorious beta male she settles down with in nuptial risk will have power over her senses like her past alpha lovers enjoyed. She is damaged goods.

British women (and American women moreso) really have been getting beefier over the past few generations.

[T]he average modern woman would seem like a giant to her great-great-grandmother, because in the past 80 years all measurements of the female body have increased dramatically.Yet it’s nothing to do with genetics – simply a result of the way we live.

Marilyn Monroe was not the “curvy” woman feminists love to hold up as a fat apologist icon. She was thinner and daintier than today’s modern woman in every conceivable way.

So how have diet and lifestyle conspired to have such a rapid effect on evolution?

Environmental shocks.

1920s

AVERAGE STATISTICS: 31-20-32

Despite widespread poverty, the Twenties’ diet was in some ways healthy. Convenience food did not exist and meals, which involved much peeling and chopping of vegetables, were higher in carbohydrates.

A typical breakfast consisted of porridge or bread and butter. Lunch – the main meal of the day – might have been meat pie with cabbage and potatoes, followed by apple pie and custard. Tea would have been lighter – perhaps a pork pie or scrambled eggs – with a snack of bread and cheese at bedtime.

In the Twenties, people burned up their calories with physical activity from dawn to dusk. In streets largely free of traffic, children skipped and played hopscotch and tag. Sports were a highly-valued part of the school curriculum, with compulsory PE for all.

Almost everybody walked or cycled to work, and for the many women who worked in the industrial areas of the North, there was a daily grind of physical labour at the factory.

The housewife did not need a personal trainer to keep the surplus pounds at bay. In a world before vacuum cleaners and washing machines, housework kept her trim. There was coal to be fetched, grates to be blacked, floors to be scrubbed, carpets to be beaten – as well as the Monday wash with washboard and mangle.

Moving onto the next generation:

1940s

AVERAGE STATISTICS: 33-21-33

[...] Again, it was their highly energetic lifestyle that kept Forties women slim. There was no petrol for cars, and people cycled or walked for miles every day. Girls thought little of walking ten miles home after a Saturday night dance.

With their men off fighting, fashion changed. The curvy feminine look to cheer returning heroes became the order of the day, with fitted suits and belted flowery dresses to show off the waist, and the Flapper’s flattening bodice giving way to the circle-stitched bra.

And Lena’s getting laaaaarrger!!

1960s

AVERAGE STATISTICS: 34-24-35

[...] Our lifestyles became less energetic too. Housewives cleaned their homes at the push of a button as washing machines and vacuum cleaners become the norm, while children fell victim to the Left-wing educationists’ decree that competitive sport was ‘divisive’ and state schools saw their playing fields sold off for housing. Before much longer, experts would be talking of the unimaginable – rising rates of obesity in childhood.

The first steps were made on the road towards the classic modern English pear shape, as, for the first time, the bottom of the hourglass figure became bigger than the top.

We’re gonna need a bigger buffet.

1980s

AVERAGE STATISTICS: 35-24-37

By the time the Eighties came along, British woman was well on the way to an irretrievable pear-shape, with her hips measuring two inches more than her bust.

Snacking, eating at one’s desk, in front of the TV and even on public transport became increasingly common, and the habit of three meals a day was jettisoned. The new-style snacks were high in fats and sugars, and even apparently ‘healthy’ foods, such as breakfast cereals and yoghurts, are high in ‘hidden’ calories.

Physical outdoor games for children started to look very uncool in comparison to a video or computer game, and exercise experts reported that Eighties children were dangerously unfit compared to their grandparents.

Nuke the jabba from orbit. It’s the only way to be sure.

2001

By the year 2000, the pearshape has become even more marked, with the average waistsize having ballooned four inches in 20 years.

Feminist concern trolls wonder why men are “dropping out” of the marriage market. Well, you don’t need a degree in human physiology to spot a blubbery, boner-killing trend.

A proud Chateau acolyte writes,

After reading the Toddler game article I decided to try some little kid game.

One of my plates [ed: "plates" = concurrent lovers or would-be lovers] was going to Africa for a month doing non-ebola humanitarian work so I decided to give her a gift before she left. Using crayons I drew two crude stick figures and wrote “u R cool hAV fuN iN AfriKA” accompanied by “I stayed up past my bed time making this for you.

She started beaming and even teared up a little. She told me that she would nail it to the door of her hut so that she could always see it when she was home.

Total cost to me was less than $1.

If you must mate guard, this is the cool alpha male way to do it. Low investment, high humor, and a physical anchor that will remind her of you every day she’s in that grass hut. If Toddler Game can defeat mandingo-hunting EatPraySlut “””humanitarian work”””, it is powerful game indeed. Its power rests in the attitude it conveys to women: Charming aloofness and happy recklessness. However, reader, I would caution you to consider the worst possibility, and to have an escape route ready should you sense on her return that your woman did what comes naturally to women who spend months overseas with noble savages.

NB: Alpha males rarely spend more than a few bucks on gifts for their girls. If you spend $$$ on jewelry, etc for a girl, you are beta and you fail.

******

Update: A comment from Count Rockula who applied a dollop of CH game to his text convo with a coy girl.

Here’s a classic Heartiste reply that saved me… little background here. I had been banging this 23 year old who I met one night at a party. She took me to another party one night, where I met one of her friends, a hot blonde 8, who I shared eyes with on several occasions. Chatted her up, found out she was moving in a month to another state, but never got her number. Few weeks later, I see her out at a bar. Got her number (“Oh man, I was hoping you would ask me for it!”) and texted her a few days later…
She knew I was banging her friend, and I knew I would at some point in the interaction have to deal with a shit test regarding that. Thanks to the words from an older blog posted here, I passed with flying colors…

After some prelim banter…

Me: So What night we meeting for a drink? Wednesday or Thursday?

Her: Is that allowed ? Aren’t you like dating Sara?

Me: Yeah, Sara and I hang out sometimes, but no, I’m not dating anyone

Me: But hey, if you have a hang up about that it’s cool, I get it

Her: Haha no, I don’t wanna hang out

Me: lol

…..15 minutes later…

Her: I’m out of work at 8 Wednesday. Planned on seeing Kayla

Her: Time is getting slim because my flights Saturday

Her: Meet at (X Venue) Friday night?

This blog and its community are life changers…keep it up everyone.

That was beautiful, man. A master class of text game from beginning to end. There is a time for “lol”, and that was it. Poetry.

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