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An Atlantic tweenzine article by Conor Friedersdorf — you may remember tiny prancer Conor from his time in the spotlight as a Chateau Heartiste peeñata — grapples with the blowback from California’s new “affirmative-consent” law, the insane, human nature-denying law favored by ugly feminists who want to make romantic pleasure as difficult as possible for men and pretty women to experience.

Friedersdorf passes along a testimonial from a CA male student who attempted to comply with the law by asking women for explicit verbal consent during each stage of the courtship. You can imagine the thousand points of love that bloomed.

Dear Conor,

I am a recent graduate, and want to share with you a few of my experiences that I think are illustrative of why the new affirmative-consent laws are out of touch with the reality of the human experience. I hope they can be of some value to the debate.

I was raised by a left-leaning, feminist family who (at least I thought at the time) were relatively open about sex.

One thing you have to understand about lefties, particularly the white variety: They are the biggest prudes on the planet. The only difference between them and the evangelicals they love to hate are the target vices of their self-righteousness.

But while I arrived at college with a healthy respect for women, I was totally unprepared for the complex realities of female sexuality.

CH needs to reach more men before the manlet cancer metastasizes.

“Oh,” sighed one platonic female friend after we had just watched Harrison Ford grab Alison Doody and kiss her is Indiana Jones and theLast Crusade, “Why don’t guys do that kind of thing anymore? Now days they are all too scared.”

Threatening to toss men before a tribunal for busting a move might dampen their enthusiasm. I mean, I’m not connecting too many dots here.

On our second night together, one of my first partners threw up her hands in disgust. “How am I supposed to get turned on when you keep asking for permission for everything like a little boy?” She said. “Just take me and fuck me already.”

She didn’t stay with me for long.

Alert the media.

This would be a recurring theme. More than once I saw disappointment in the eyes of women when I didn’t fulfill the leadership role they wanted me to perform in the bedroom. I realized that women don’t just desire men, they desire men’s desire―and often they don’t want to have to ask for it.

A woman who has to ask for a man’s desire can never trust him. Once the seed of distrust is planted, it grows and chokes the life out of every interaction.

I also realized that I was in many ways ashamed of my own sexual desire as a man, and that this was not healthy.

Walk with your cock leading the way. Women love men who are proud of their tumescent entitlement. This is perhaps the hardest lesson for constitutional weaklings to assimilate. It cuts against a lifetime of assuming the rump-up position appeasing their betters.

At this point I was experiencing some cognitive dissonance with my upbringing, but in time learned to take an assertive lead unless I got a “no” or otherwise thought I was about to cross a boundary as indicated by body language.

One night I ended up back in a girl’s room after a first date (those do happen in college). She had invited me in and was clearly attracted to me. We were kissing on her bed, outer layers of clothing removed, but when my hands wandered downward she said, “No, wait.” I waited. She began kissing me again, passionately, so again I moved to remove her underwear. “Stop,” she said, “this is too fast.” I stopped.

“That’s fine,” I said. I kissed her again and left soon after, looking forward to seeing her again.

Interestingly, leaving a woman in the lurch of lust is not a guaranteed clit-killer. Off the tongue of a skilled vagician, a takeaway of this style could incite a girl to a higher plane of ecstasy.

But my text messages received only cold, vaguely angry replies, and then silence.

He still had her at angry (the opposite of indifference), but he lost her by the time silence rolled in to steal the show.

I was rather confused. Only many weeks later did I find out the truth from one of her close friends: “She really wanted you, but you didn’t make it happen. She was pretty upset that you didn’t really want her.”

“Why didn’t she just say so then, why did she say we were moving too fast?”

Much to learn, he has…

“Of course she said that, you dumbass. She didn’t want you to think she was a slut.”

The liberal male rationalization hamster is almost as swole as the generic female hamster.

Talk about confusing. Apparently in this case even no didn’t mean no. It wasn’t the last time I’ve come across “token resistance” that is intended to be overcome either. But that’s a line that I am still uncomfortable with testing, for obvious reasons.

Men are the risk-taking sex. It’s biologically ordained. And so women expect men to push the envelope. When a man fails to do that, she’ll wonder what other chances at greatness he’ll choose to decline.

But I have learned not to ask when it clearly isn’t necessary, or desired.

One of my fondest sexual experiences started with making eye contact across a room, moved to a dance floor, and then to an empty bathroom. Not a single word was ever spoken, because none had to be. We both knew and understood. I was a man and she was a woman, and we found ourselves drawn together in that beautiful way that men and women have been since a time immemorial, a time long before language was ever spoken.

Today in California this would be considered rape. I find that very sad. Women are not infantile. They can make their own decisions about sex, and that includes being able to say no―even if they don’t want to have to say yes.

Regards,

Anonymous

Either women are infantile, or they’re adults with agency. If the former, then they need to be treated like infants across the board. This would include removing their right to vote or divorce without cause. If the latter, then these feminist-inspired policies and laws need to be trashed. That means Title IX, affirmative action, and all the rest of the “level playing field aka anti-white male” nonsense must go.

Affirmative-consent laws are in practice Affirmative Resentment laws, because a woman will resent any man who seriously abides a law that requires him to ask her permission to crave and profane her body. Even feminist slags with a two-ton chip on their shoulders will be unable to control feelings of revulsion toward men who accept their demands for slavish foreplay petitions.

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Researchers performed a historical analysis of cohabitation in the US and discovered that previous estimates of cohabitation understated the pace of change after 1960, and that the cohabitation rate before 1970 and going back to 1880 was historically low. After 1970, cohabitation rose dramatically, and has not stopped rising.

1970 appears to be the foremost dividing line between “good, functional, beautiful America” and “bad, dysfunctional, ugly America”. So many social ills explode with a ferocity sometime around 1970, and continue exploding right to the present day. Count them out.

Single momhood.
Obesity.
Male unemployment.
Divorce. (Appears to have plateaued recently, thanks in part to fewer marriages.)
Total marriage rate.
Alternative mating arrangements.
STDs.
Abortion.
Low White fertility.
Astronomical debt.
Crime. (Though crime began a long decline in the 1990s, thanks in part to mass incarceration and internet porn.)
Feminism.
Equalism.
Multiculturalism.
PC neoPuritanism.
Anti-white and anti-free association Acts.
Wiggers.
SJWs.
Slut parades.
Fat acceptors.
Credentialism.
Bryan Caplan.
$22 trillion wasted in malign “war on disparate outcomes”.
Hijacking of every major public institution by the Left.
Diversity graft.
Welfare replacing workfare.
Parasite shamelessness.
Surveillance nation.
Manboobery.
White population displacement.

And the Big Kahuna that arguably precipitated or magnified at least half of the culture diseases in the above list:

The 1965 Open Borders to the Non-White European World Act.

It makes one wonder if a supervillain dumped a mind-altering drug in American water supplies in the summer of ’69 that stripped citizens of the character traits which were responsible for the relative sanity of previous generations.

Cohabitation, like abortion, may not necessarily qualify as a social ill (e.g., cohabitation “works”, so far as we know, in the Swedish parts of Sweden), but let’s just say both are leading indicators of trouble brewing in the mating market.

And a generation unable to talk straight or feel healthy human emotions because they’re either utterly brainwashed into true belief or cowed into sociopathic self-policing by anti-white shock troops is a leading indicator of a culture on the verge of giving itself over to the sweet release of death.

Some social problems, notably crime, are cyclical, following patterns for which we yet struggle to identify causes. But even the cyclical social ills experience a radical jump and disheartening persistence after 1970 that set them apart from previous incarnations. Emergence of new ills and amplification of old ills is the story of late 20th century and early 21st century America. Ebola ain’t got nothin’ on whatever post-1970 shadow poison rots the soul of this once glorious nation.

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In a word: Credentialism.

Credentialism, as defined by CH, is a system where the signaling value of a credential exceeds the content value of the acquired knowledge implied by the credential.

Keep this definition in mind, because it will explain a lot about the shortcomings of assortative mating data.

Assortative mating is the theory that people pair up according to social class, which in modern America is nearly synonymous with educational class. Proponents of assortative mating theory speculate that a cognitive elite — and perhaps soon a racial elite — is evolving from the observed mate choices of the upper classes to marry solely among themselves. Sort of like an “educated class inbreeding”. The mechanism by which educated class inbreeding happens is through meeting one’s mate on college campus, or later at the office or within social circles, both of which tend to be segregated by smarts and its proxy, college degree.

The more generations that pass through the filter of selective breeding for credentials, the likelier that a distinct race of übermensch becomes a permanent piece of the American social scene. A Bindi-style caste system is not far behind.

The flaw in assortative mating theory lies in its major premise: That credentials are as accurate a gauge of smarts and knowledge and social class now as they were in the past.

There’s no doubt women have flooded academia, and now outnumber men on campus by a nontrivial margin.

The fact that the female representation in college has risen so dramatically in such a short time period tells us that genetics are not the driving factor. Women did not suddenly become smarter, nor did they become smarter than men, during their rise to higher ed prominence. No, what happened instead is one-parent families became unaffordable in The Disunited States of Diversity, and, more pertinently, the average college degree lost a lot of its value.

Crudely, women have flooded into college to earn shit degrees like Communications, English, Education, and Women’s Studies.

Liberal arts degrees are useless degrees, because everything you’d wind up doing in a cubicle job with such a degree can be learned in two weeks if you have half a brain. In fact, these degrees are worse than useless, because they saddle women with a mountain of debt that they must pay off by marrying in their dried-up 30s a no-game-having, scarcity-mentality, provider beta male.

The uselessness of humanities degrees to real world value creation is exacerbated by the diversity industrial memeplex, which has further eroded the college cachet by the necessity of dumbing down and grade inflating the degree programs that vibrant students swarm into on the largesse of creator class endowment money.

What you are staring at is the twisted face of credentialism, the college debt racket and status whore end game that proves nothing except that women can be gifted conformist suck-ups in the stampede to earn a parchment declaring them competent at arranging client meetings, thinking inside the box, and mingling with white collar men who satisfy their hypergamous desire.

Empty, status striving credentialism is the reason assortative mating theory is flawed. Men and women aren’t matching up by IQ or class; they’re matching up by credential. Except that, on average, the men’s degrees are actually worth the paper they’re printed on.

Assortative credentialism is the more precise term for the marriage trend that we observe took off after women stormed the campus citadel. Conflating runaway credentialism with IQ misses the fact that today’s paper pushing woman with a communications degree was yesterday’s equally competent secretary with a high school degree, and perhaps even yesteryear’s farmhand mother with sharp instincts for survival.

So there will be no genetic überwench class. This isn’t to say an evolved cognitive elite is impossible; rather, what appears to be happening is less IQ stratification than a perverse reiteration of the patented CH BOSSS (Boss-Secretary Sexual Strategy) sexual market mechanism to reduce wealth and class inequality. The high school grad secretary of yore has been replaced by the college grad secretary of today. And as long as she stays thin and pretty, she’ll catch the eye of that high status man, and GSS data will erroneously pick this up as mate sorting primarily based on college experience or IQ.

There’s another flawed premise bedeviling assortative mating theory: It’s not really assortative MATING as much as it is assortative MARRYING. Whatever marriage trends we see between degreed SWPL women marrying degreed SWPL men are happening later and later in life, late 20s to early 30s. But before then, during those prime female nubility late teens and 20s, marriage rates are low among the “inbred educated class”. However, women aren’t waiting fifteen years in stark celibacy before assortatively marrying. There’s plenty of Pill and rubberized reproduction-thwarted mating going on between ages 15 and 30. The mating is what really animates men, moreso than the marrying. And women *are* assortatively mating, if by assortative we mean women are choosing to fuck sexy alpha cads who aren’t interested in footing the living expenses bills for women with feminist studies expertise who delight at the prospect of earning a paycheck to throw back mimosa-fueled single lady brunches.

Like I’ve said, it’s no coincidence that charismatic jerkboy game rose to prominence at the same time female college attendance and credentialism skyrocketed.

UPDATE

Audacious Epigone adds his pence to the assortative marrying topic.

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Having had the great honor and privilege to detox my buttox be a member in charmed standing of social circles past that included a fair number of gay men, I’ve heard enough lurid stories about their sex lives to fill an abattoir of ripped anuses. Some of them got gay married, many of them knew someone who got gay married. As an insider, I’ll let you in on a leetle secret…

Every gay marriage that was talked about was an open relationship.

Not a one of these gays who were married, or planned to get married, held any pretense of practicing monogamy. When the topic of promiscuous married gays came up, the only surprise was the blasé avowal of the fact. The gay men announced their intention to defile the tacit monogamous stricture of marriage with such nonchalance that it would astound them to learn anyone thought they might behave otherwise.

The Chateau has gay readers. I know you’re reading this. Tell me I’m wrong.

Gay marriage will be a continuation of the unmarried gay lifestyle and all that entails, except legitimized by the state. The bathhouse won’t stop at the boy wedding. The national embrace of gay marriage will have, as per usual when infantile tantrum-throwing leftoids get their way, unintended consequences down the line, and I predict bad ones at that. Marriage is already assaulted by numerous cultural forces; undermining it further by essentially permitting into its scope avowed nonmonogamists will drive deeper the wedge between straight beta men and the institution. And once the beta males leave the marriage game, it’s game over.

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Two girls fighting over one man. This delightful menage a twat won’t be the theme of any mainstream rom-com any time soon, because the alpha male these two babycakes are fighting over is, allegedly, Arron (sic) Lewis, mystery meat marekiller currently suspected of murdering Arkansas real estate agent Beverly Carter.

“Well I guess you made up your mind cuz you are still texting him.”

Chicks dig jerks. Chicks dig taken jerks. Chicks, at least as far as we can tell by their actions, dig taken jerks who lie to them. Bonus digging points if said jerk has a rap sheet.

Indignant white knights nursing an excessively protective instinct toward women which helps themselves feel useful in the world will doubtless wail, “But he lied to her! She didn’t know he was a jerk!” This sort of thinking betrays a lack of exposure to the jungle dating market. I don’t see either of these cute-ish girls giving their sex to honest, law-abiding beta males. I see them fucking a lying, murdering sack of filth. And getting into girlfights over who will be his number one. The alpha male soft harem in action.

If you have any sort of experience with cute girls, you know that when they hook up, and stay hooked up, with lying assholes they know on some level with a quickness that these guys are lying assholes. Now of course their spinning hamsters will rationalize away their gnawing suspicions and oddly exciting discomfort, because these sexxxy bastards are just so intriguingly sexxxy and arousingly bastardly. It’s similar to how a smitten beta male, unable to think straight because his brain is awash in nutritious fresh squeezed pussy juice, will spin or ignore or sugarcoat evidence that his hot girlfriend is drifting out of love with him.

Hm, she hasn’t texted me since yesterday. Probably forgot to charge her phone.

The pricked self-preservation senses of the jerk-loving girl and the girlfriend-loving beta male tell them one thing, while their captured hearts tell them another. As love is the second most powerful emotion in the universe after jealousy, and tied with hate, the heart usually wins these contests of wills. And never really stops winning, even when it is finally denied the satisfaction of fulfillment.

***

A confused commenter avers,

The women we’re talking to each other about LEAVING him not about how much he makes their vags tingle from the power.

This is exactly the kind of misreading that one would expect from a Pollyanna pedestal polisher. Women don’t argue with each other in novella format over a man they don’t love anymore and truly wish to leave. A woman who has fallen out of love and wants to leave a man won’t turn over her decision a thousand times, nor argue about it with the man’s other lover. She’ll just leave, and her reasoning, if her spurned boyfriend demands it, will be uncharacteristically — for her sex — perfunctory. “I just don’t feel it anymore. I wish you the best.”

Only experience with women will enable a man to understand their different reactions to men they no longer love, versus men who have hurt them but whom they still love. Let’s put it this way: If two girls are fighting exhaustively over how to leave you, you’re in the gina seat.

Ya gotta read between the id-storm of lines, brethren. Or should I say sistren. *eyebrow raise*

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It’s time to do the same with obesity.

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A balnog belched from the foulest pits of hell was arrested in connection with the disappearance, (and presumed murder), of a cute white college girl this month — and now also with the death of another cute white college girl from 2009.

The feral predator:

The timeline of the crime is chilling, in more than one way.

The man is 32-year old Jesse “LJ” Matthew, who was arrested September 25 in Galveston, Texas on a charge of Abduction With Intent to Defile in the case involving the still-unexplained disappearance of second-year University of Virginia student Hannah Graham.

Hannah was last seen by an eye witness walking with LJ Matthew in the early morning hours of Saturday, September 13. She appeared heavily intoxicated, the witness told me, slouched against him, not quite able to walk on her own. They were seen together outside Tempo, the same restaurant where just about an hour before, another woman had told him to get his hands off of her. I ask that young woman what one thing she remembered most about that night. She thinks for a moment and says with a steady stare, “That he creeped me the fuck out.”

I believe we will discover in the coming decades that some races are, on average, less disposed to empathic feelings for fellow humans. At the extreme left tail of this population-varying average moral sense you will find the demonic dumb beasts like the specimen above, who are “less human than human”. But despite the garish horrors of their crimes, their minds are uninteresting, bleak, dull, like the flat tundra under a starless night. They move on instinct; reason and thoughtfulness are as foreign to them as algebra. Like with any rabid animal lunging for your throat, the only life-affirming answer is a bullet to its head. Histrionic postmortems about the meaning of the animal’s life are as repugnant as they are ponderous and futile.

One individual told me LJ [Matthew] always seemed like “a gentle giant.” [ed: he was 270 pounds]

Meme-ification Protocol initiated. Activate “gentle giant” ridicule sequence.

More interesting than the mind of the gentle giant is the mind of the all-too-human victim, and the minds of those around her who swaddle her memory in a rootless victimology that excuses reality from any role in the drama. Hannah Graham was walking alone, late at night, drunk, when a large black man approached her. At the time she met the gentle grotesque, alcohol may have blurred her awareness of her surroundings, or she may have been lucid enough to agree to accompany him to a bar, out of appeasing fear or, more darkly, curiosity.

What Camille Paglia calls naivete, I call delusion. What was this white woman thinking? What were her immediate family, her friends, her larger family, and the culture that ensconced her thinking? That it was perfectly safe to stumble around at 1AM alone, in a drunken haze and a short skirt while the nighttime streets filled with remorseless, hungry prowlers? That “don’t blame the victim” means “don’t take any responsibility for your own well-being”? That adult women are to be handled like crying, soiling infants, coddled and pampered and indulged… and sacrificed by the dorm-load to demon butchers who didn’t get the Take Back the Night memo? That the “real danger” is the happy-go-lucky white frat bro who likes to make crude jokes? That accountability, reason, and personal responsibility are outdated virtues of a backward patriarchal past?

This is what following the Lords of Lies gets you… Death. What she needed to hear was “don’t drink until you can’t see straight”, “don’t go out alone”, “don’t pretend like the world can’t be dangerous to you”, “if you don’t want to be taken advantage of, don’t make yourself an easy target”, “don’t dress like a slut or men will treat you like a slut”, and most importantly, “if a large black man walks toward you in the middle of the night and puts his arm around you in fake friendliness, run and scream for help”.

This goes for the white college men who must have been in the area to see this American Horror Story unfold. Are you so brainwashed by equalist cant that the sight of a huge black guy confronting a drunk white girl in the dead of night doesn’t twitch your risk-assessment reflexes? I’m not saying you had to go mano-a-mandingo with the beast, but you could’ve gathered compatriots and moved in threateningly, which likely would’ve spooked the predator.

Yet even this target group’s great shame is tinged with tragicomedy. Decades of feminist filth poisons the mind, but decades of unleashed female sexual behavior, all traditional constraints on it vilified and tossed aside, hardens the heart. When generations of men witness their women degrade themselves and hook up, with cavalier disregard for any self-debasing consequences, with degenerates and monsters, the instinct to protectiveness grows numbly useless.

Feminists, equalists, and anti-reality delusionists, you have killed Hannah Graham as assuredly as LT “gentle giant” Matthew did. Your lies were his choking grip. Her blood is on your cowardly hands.

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