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COTW winner newlyaloof experiences what it’s like to be on the receiving end of a typical woman’s exquisitely honed talent for manipulation.

Women want everything in life – except for their men – to appease them.

Wife just called asking where lawnmower key was. I recognize this now for what it is. A shit test for me to say, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll do it when I get home.” But, I told her where the key was and to have fun. Haha. I could tell she wasn’t ready for that. She responded a few comments about hopefully being able to figure it out (again more guilt-loaded shit tests to get me to say I’d do it). I told her to have fun and she’d learn a thing or two. She replied, “Well, does it have any gas in it?” (another attempt) I replied, I don’t know, but fill it up if it needs it.” She replied, “No, I don’t want to fill it up with gas.”

See, she wanted the grass cut. She didn’t care about how busy I am or how many other priorities I have in front of the grass. She wanted appeasement on the grass, plain and simple, but she didn’t think it was worthy of her time to fill it up with gas. Think of that betas. She didn’t feel it was worth one minute of her time to fill up the lawn mower, but an hour of my time cutting the grass with it was.

Like the Federal reserve and our money supply, the more appeasement you give out, the lower your value. You’ve got to defund the Hypergamy Reserve one monetary-asshole-unit at a time.

I’m afraid it’s in the nature of woman to believe an indentured servant waiting on her hand and foot is an unalienable right granted by possession of a vagina. That’s why men need game… to disabuse women of that notion. Because the alternative is sucking up to ever more egregious demands for ever fewer opportunities at her snatch.

***

COTW runner-up is a putative female reader, cynthia, who writes,

Appeasement: to yield or concede to the belligerent demands of (a nation, group, person, etc.) in a conciliatory effort, sometimes at the expense of justice or other principles.

The MAN wants to appease. Peace, reconciliation, quiet.

The WOMAN wants something entirely different. We want drama.

You guys want the game to stop, with definitive results. We want the game to keep going forever.

Pithy. And surprisingly insightful… for a woman. (“for a woman” is the new “not all women are like that”.) Men do a lot of up-front hard work to court women, and so justifiably feel they should be able to coast once within the comfy confines of an LTR. Victory in war, followed by a long peace.

Women want none of that. They crave the drama, and get antsy when it’s missing. This is because women, unlike men, have shallow but wide and hungry egos that need constant validation. This need for validation issues from a subconscious realization that their worth is almost entirely tied up in their (fading) looks, while a man’s worth is connected to many facets of his life. Women lose sexual value at just the time that men gain sexual value, and from that dynamic is born women’s insatiable need for ego-validating drama to, paradoxically, quell their fears that their men might trade up.

Now of course there are those few men who are good at seducing women, who relish the game, and who take pleasure in turning the crank on the hamster wheel of up and down emotions. These men are dangerous precisely for the reason that women can’t help but love them so.

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This week’s COTW is richly deserved. Congratulations, burke.

and these stories are just the jolt ‘normal’ guys like me need as a reminder. i have had many MOA [moments of alpha], but i still have the instincts born of being raised by a single mother. if i say something that is shockingly rude in my mind, i am right about in a woman’s sweet spot. you can go way way further and still get results. if you could grind a woman’s entire being to dust with your dick, like a mortar and pestle, that’s the oblivion she is searching for

Insight elevated to sheer poetry by the breezy lack of punctuation. Women secretly desire their oblivion at the insistence of an imperious man. As the vessel sex, they must be filled with the life force of another — a powerful man, or a child — to fully experience sublimation of their souls. Thus it is that surrender is encoded in the gristle of woman.

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COTW winner (“WINNER”, not “And the COTW goes to…”) is Just Saying, who recounts his journey from beta widget to enlightened love maestro.

I always find these type of “awakening” articles interesting, although I wonder how anyone can have taken so long to awaken to female psychology. Long ago, when I was in college guys would chat about this, with no women around of course. Because what women would say was diametrically opposed to reality – and they were so dedicated to saying one thing and doing another that I came to see all women as schizophrenic on this issue, and simply NOT ABLE to see their own responses. Of course, that didn’t stop me from using it to my advantage. I actually tried to see how “bad” I could be before women would jump-ship and found that such a point doesn’t exist. The worse I got in my behavior, the more they would try to appease me, and make me happy. I never hit them, and that is what made me realize that nothing you do is “too bad” for a woman, when I saw one with blackened eyes apologizing to the guy who did it.

It became pretty obvious to see that to live well, you need to be as selfish as you can be when it comes to women. Now every now and then you have to do something nice – and it will floor them for the next year and you can treat them like dirt. Cheat on them, pretty much do whatever you want. But you NEVER want to treat a woman “NICE”. I’ve had women comment – “You treat all of your friends so much better than you treat me.” And I respond – “That’s because they are my friends and you’re my lover and wouldn’t want it any other way.” I am brutally honest – but they cannot see they are their own worst enemy. Of course, I also never keep them around for long – although some of them have managed to make themselves so useful that I won’t willingly kick them to the curb – how can you veto a woman that actively brings other (younger) women to your bed? When one woman tells you – “You can have every other woman you want – as long as you’ll still see me.” She has pretty much handed you the keys to the kingdom – and it is HARD to be mean to her, but if you aren’t she will leave. Every time I wake up next to her and want to tell her she is my ideal woman, I catch myself and remind myself to do something mean instead. That is against my nature – but it is what she needs. And since it benefits me, why wouldn’t I do it? So when she tells me, “You can have every other woman.” I’ll respond with something like, “And some times that means I want to enjoy them, without YOU!” Just so that she knows she is there at my whim – and that keeps her always trying to keep me happy. And that seems to be what women need – to keep her man happy – but she needs to see she never succeeds – as when she succeeds, she’ll grow tired and bored – and this is the death of her excitement.

But I love women enough to treat them like dirt. It can be hard to get your head around – but it’s like quantum mechanics, it doesn’t have to “make sense” to me, I just have to be able to use it to my advantage, and that is all I need.

To all the women and white knights who shrink in horror from this ugliest of truths about female romantic nature: Customer complaints can be filed with your biomechanical maker. I’m sure your letter of protest will be received with earnest consideration.

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COTW winner is Burn It All (but not my fedora and new atheist soundbite collection dude), who writes,

“Fuck ‘em all” >>> FTW. Don’t take anything too seriously. Nobody’s getting out of here alive.

“It’s purely a materialistic mindset you are processing with.” Yes. It’s HER materialistic mindset that you let take control of your life. Nothing can fill the hole in her soul. Don’t ever start to try. Fill her three useful holes with your cock instead.

Think of all the ass you pulled in college when you lived in a shithole, sheets over the windows, furniture from the dumpster, pounding shitty beer and sleeping on a soiled mattress on the floor. She never talked about window treatments, new cars, McMansions or vacations. She just sucked your cock and spread her legs whenever you flashed that grin.

Now she wants you to trade your life energy for something she gave to a ton of other guys for NOTHING.

The minute you indulge her fiat/debt spending endless accumulation tendencies you have lost.

A supreme tragedy of Western womanhood (from a societal perspective) is that the best years of their sexual scrumptiousness (age 15-25) are spent defiled by charming layabouts without a pot to piss in. But this should prove to men who opt for the golddigger bribery strategy that women aren’t attracted to your credit line or 2,400 sq ft heating oil sink. A wad of cash and a 1/2 acre lawn won’t make tingles erupt; those things just obtain concubinage from women who are already past their prime and willing to tolerate the boredom of beta male reliability.

The day that men wake up to this reality is the day civilization collapses into its origin goo. Which is why it will never happen. Men have their own hardwiring which acts to blind them to the machinery clanking away underneath the mating dance gloss so that their true masters — their genes — can propagate.

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Pleasuresadist takes the prize (an effigy of Tim Wise, complete with zip code map of white neighborhoods) for this pithy decryption of leftoid (aka shitlib) love of “””tolerance”””.

The tolerance that liberals and libertarians demand is really a form of anesthesia–dulling the social nerves to threats. They want you to go through life numb and indifferent.

Diversity + proximity = dehumanization.

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cold russian on the restrictions diversity organically imposes on discourse,

Dialogue is naturally limited under the condition of diversity. Atomize any further and it gets down to kindergarten level, pretty much “Don’t say that bad word!” dictated in baby talk. All of this for the upkeep of a lonely society where you say “Have a nice day” to the black receptionist at the dentist’s office or where the Asian at the sushi place puts on a cheery voice to greet you. Anybody who wants to make a living out of writing has to tip-toe around this issue, or else face the anger of a bunch of blacks who feel disrespected, and signaling whites who nail you for the highest kind of evil possible in their perpetually abstracting minds.

There are actually two negative forces at work on Western social cohesion and comity: Diversity and diversity elevation. The first, the actual ratios of different people within a single geopolitical and cultural space, reduces trust and bonhomie by the action of observable behavioral and temperamental differences, particularly if those group differences are unequally suited to thrive in a complex modern society. The second, the glorification of diversity by status whoring whites and their non-white pawns, infects otherwise normal daily politeness between different peoples with a patina of coercion and resentment.

In an ethnically and racially diverse society the natural fissures created by the compressed diversity are exacerbated by secular-religious belief in the unassailable value of diversity and by proselytizing of diversity as an unmitigated good exempt from criticism. Organic diversity strains social connectedness, but diversity elevation draws a spotlight to that strain through the inhuman demands it makes of people to dumb down their dialogue and ignore what their lying eyes tell them.

So, for instance, the necessary upkeep of saying “Have a nice day” to a black receptionist in a diverse but psychologically healthy society is easy politeness no normal person finds objectionable that gets twisted into something darker and more resentful — like a false confession under duress — in a psychologically damaged society that denies one race their identity while exalting the identities, real or fantastical, of every other race. The most delicious irony of the diversity inquisitors is that their very fervor to stamp out heretical thought is driving the natural wedges of diversity deeper into the body politic.

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COTW winner is YaReally, who summarizes the best use of a group of hapless men guarding their prized quarry.

Take their girl.

You’re cooler than them by default simply because they’re so low-value to her that they’re her orbiters, and you’re the bright shiny new object. Just ignore her and chat with them, then tease her when she tries to get your attention and she’ll choose you and demand more of your attention. If you choose her, they can “protect” her and kick your ass…but if she chooses you, there’s nothing they can do about it because she’ll defend you from them. All they can do is go home and cry themselves to sleep, then Google “how do I get this one special girl I’m in love with??” and end up on their way to enlightenment lol

The shiv is strong in this comment. Congrats Ya. Your Golden Shiv trophy is waiting for you at the Chateau reception desk.

***

First COTW runner-up is EdwardWaverley, who writes a poem about a girl who secretly yearns for the grimy nonconsensual love of a street bum.

Tramp Seeks Tramp

I don’t want a beta provider
a simpering resource divider.
I won’t love a dashing young turk,
nor even a debonair jerk.

To render me gasping agape
I need to experience rape.
I know ’round the mountain I’d come
to play rape with the neighborhood bum.

As he stumbles alluringly near
with his gin-addled grin and his leer,
and accosts me without my permission,
all the dregs of my id start to wishin’

that he’ll yank me right into his alley
to assault my near-quivering valley.
Though I’m trying to straighten my dress
and to vocalize “no,” I’m a mess

of frightfully strange contradictions.
And I’m finding that civil restrictions
are a cramp to my hideous kink,
that I wonder what mother would think

could she see me receiving attentions
from nefarious, strange uber-menschen
in a dark semi-public demesne?
Better not to examine that vein

up too close. Yet it’s dreadfully clear
that an open-air climax is near!
If this fantasy goes any further
I may wind up a homeless man’s birther!

But enough! I can’t think any longer
of my rapey mysterious schlong-er.
(He’d be homeless, and horny, and free!
And he’d long just to rape only me!)

I’ve resigned myself simply to ponder
a vague thought of felicity yonder.
With my husband I’ll gladly play dumb
as I secretly yearn for a bum.

Stirring. I would pay good money to watch a prankster recite this on-stage just after a feminist slam poetess had finished her dull harangue.

***

Second COTW runner-up is Just Saying, who reminds the dudio audience that giving a woman even an ounce of control is a recipe for romantic failure.

Women HATE making decisions or being in control – so don’t let her. Tell her where to be, and when to be there. If she is – great, if not you should have others lined up and it’s her loss. I have had a woman blow me off and my last text to her was a – “Sorry to miss you. Met someone, we’re off.” Suddenly my phone exploded with texts – which I ignored till the next day since I was with someone and they took precedence. The next time she was there – on time, and I banged her. You always have to be willing to walk on a woman – other wise they get full of themselves, and NO WOMAN is worth your dignity.

Being her pet monkey sending her photos with her name on it [re: James Franco], is BS – she showed it to all of her GF’s and laughed at you. No women is worth that – I would have sent her a canned photo of an old GF’s butt that I keep for such occasions with the verbiage – KISS THIS.

Depedestalization is a prerequisite to seduction. Of course, you can fake the pedestal funk to charm women, but really feeling the weight of that pedestal in your bones is a burden that will pollute any charm offensive you take.

***

Finally, the COTW consolation prize is awarded to Waffles.

One of the first dates with my now GF of over a year, we were discussing what to do after we got food etc. I said something along the lines of “you can just drop me at my car tomorrow morning”, she said something like “Oh, what makes you think you’re coming back to my place?” Channeling the teachings of CH I smirked and said “Always assume the sale”. Sure enough went back to her place. We’ve been dating over a year now and live together. She STILL brings up that comment “always assume the sale” with sparkles in her eyes and tingles galore.

There is so little game in the world, and so few men practicing the art of game, that a little bit goes a long way. So long, in fact, that a woman will remember a cocky line spoken years earlier as the prelude to a deep and wonderful romance.

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