An Alpha Daddy’s Letter To His Little Girl (About Her Future Husband)

Dear Cutie-Pie (I call you this pet name because I subconsciously know how important your cuteness will eventually be to your future reproductive and marital success),

Recently, your mother and I were searching for an answer on the government spy agency known as Google. Halfway through entering the question, GovGoog returned a list of the most popular searches in the world. Minutes later, my tax return was flagged for auditing. Perched at the top of the search list was “How to keep him interested.”

It amused me. I scanned several of the countless articles about how to be sexy and sexual, when to bring him a beer versus a sandwich, and the ways to make him feel smart and superior.

And I got a knowing look.

Little One, it is, has always been, and always will be your job to “keep him interested.” Just at it will be your future husband’s job to keep you interested. Everyone knows this is true, despite loser mafia protestations to the contrary, and that’s why this search result, the culmination of millions of user search entries, is the first one returned.

Little One, your only task is to know deeply in your soul — in that unshakeable place that isn’t indoctrinated into feminism and resentment and mass media bromides — that you are judged for your worth. (If you can remember that everyone else is judged for their worth also, the battle of your happiness in life will be mostly won. But that is a letter for another day.)

If you can assess your worth in this way, you will be attractive in the most important sense of the word: you will work hard to stay fit and sexy and feminine and attract a boy who is both capable of self-assured masculinity and who wants to spend his one life not secretly despising you for giving up on him and disrespecting his normal, natural desires as a man.

Little One, I want to tell you about the man who doesn’t need to be kept interested, because he knows you’ve given up trying to be interesting:

I don’t care if he puts his elbows on the dinner table — because it’s worse when he puts his eyes on the way your nose scrunches like a walrus sniffing rotten fish in the air when you smile, and starts to hate you. And then can’t stop hating you.

I don’t care if he can’t play a bit of golf with me — because his short game suffers when he’s pissed off his children are ingrates trained by your passive-aggressive style of parenting to despise him and he’s not quite sure one of them is his. Sadly, his daughter is taking after you lengthwise and widthwise and you’re doing nothing to stop it because GRRLPOWER and PATRIARCHY.

I don’t care if he doesn’t follow his wallet — because the money just goes to buy you bon bons and cheesy poofs.

I don’t care if he is strong — because if he were strong he might trade you in for a woman who’s still interested in maintaining an hourglass figure and a sweet heart.

I couldn’t care less how he votes — because the sitting White House occupant is not the one who has to wake up every morning and see your flabby carcass rolling over to refuel with a strategically placed bowl of chips on the nightstand first thing in the morning.

I don’t care about the color of his skin — because your shelf butt is so stupendously grotesque my objections will only fall on deaf ears when you discover your own men don’t want to paint a canvas of your lives with brushstrokes of patience, and sacrifice, and vulnerability, and tenderness.

I don’t care if he was raised in this religion or that religion or militant Islam – as long as he was raised to value the sacred and to know every moment of life, and every moment of life with you, is deeply sacred assuming you wear the hijab and cover your bloated porcine face.

In the end, Little One, if you stumble across a man like that and he and I have nothing else in common, we will have the most important thing in common:

Your physical and temperamental attractiveness.

Because in the end, Little One, the things you should have to do to “keep him interested” are to be sexually experimental, fall within a 17 to 23 BMI and a 0.65 to 0.75 WHR, and treat him like the king he truly, deeply wants to be for you in your lives together.

Only then will you and he be happy and loving and patient and vulnerable and tender with each other.

Your eternally interested man (no creepy incest),

Daddy

***

This post is, of course, dedicated to my daughter, my Cutie-Pie. But I also want to dedicate it beyond her.

I wrote it for my wife, who has courageously held on to her slender figure and has always held me accountable to being that kind of “man” that women love — i.e., a man who doesn’t apologize for his desire.

I wrote it for every grown woman I have met inside and outside of my therapy office — the women who have never known this voice of a Strong Father.

And I wrote it for the generation of boys-becoming-manboobs who need to be reminded of what is really important — my little girl finding a loving, lifelong, alpha male companion who demands the best of her is dependent upon at least one of you figuring this out. I’m praying for you. No, seriously, I’m praying. Don’t let me down. I don’t want little manbooblets jerking off into furry costumes or little cuntlets blowing my savings on useless grad school Gay Studies degrees and bowing out at age 38 with an apartment full of cats and a womb drier than Death Valley (apropos).

***

This article has been featured on Huffington Post. CH is going mainstream!

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Save This Man!

A reader with an urgent family emergency has turned to the Chateau for help.

I have been reading your site for many years now and thank you for all of the wisdom you have shared. Your blog has improved my life in many ways, and I humbly ask your advice now to convince my brother that he is about to make a terrible mistake.

My brother is the pride of the family – went to a top school undergrad, graduated med school last year, and is now on his way to becoming a surgeon. He is a well-adjusted, mature man who has had a couple of long term relationships in the past and possesses above average intellect, physical, and social skills.

For the past 6 months he has been dating an unemployed divorcee who is 8 years older (he’s 28, she’s 36). This summer he will be moving across the country for his next rotation and they have decided that she will also move and live together with him. She has no social network in the region and even if she finds a job will be relying almost entirely on him financially, emotionally, etc. Not surprisingly she has been pushing him for a ring and a baby, and he seems to be happily going along with this.

My parents and extended family are distraught. We have all tried to reason with him but to no avail. You and your esteemed commentators can all see the train wreck that will occur if my cousin decides to marry and start a family with this woman.

My question to you is this: how can I talk him out of it?

Nervously Poolside,
Dr. No

This reader’s brother needs an intervention. A strong, powergut propelled, three pats on the back intervention. The best teachable moments are those which sock the nascent quisling in the face with a blistering infographic:

The graph is via GLPiggy. As you can see, more women have sex before age 25, but after that the dynamic flips and it’s men who enjoy the edge in sexual pleasure. The why is simple: women are most desirable when young. Men are most desirable when older, and continue staying desirable well into middle age. The underlying why is even simpler: Female attractiveness is almost entirely a function of their physical beauty. Male attractiveness is a function of multiple causes, including status, power, charm, looks and social dominance.

This is CH 101, aka Life 101, aka Feminist Soul Implosion 101.

So tell your brother it makes no sense to marry a woman eight years older than himself when he has the SMV goods RIGHT NOW to land a hotter, tighter, younger babe without divorce baggage, said baggage which itself is strong evidence she will divorce again. And on top of that, his SMV will only increase for another ten, perhaps twenty years, while hers, if she is the typical woman following the usual senescence track, will have a date with the wall of sexual expiration just about the time his appeal is maxing out.

That’s a recipe for marital failure. It makes no sense for him to hitch his cart to this gimp horse, unless….

she’s hot.

I mean, balls tingling, cock leaping hot.

You left this out of your description of her. Be honest, how hot is she? A hard 10? And not just for her age? Because if that’s the case, (however unlikely), many would find it difficult to dissuade him from experiencing the kind of glorious transcendental passion that most men can only crave from the sidelines of their gloomy masturbatoria.

You see, a man falls in love with a woman’s beauty. He does not fall in love with her smarts, her job, her credentials, her family connections, her employability, her future time orientation, or her ability to stand against the patriarchy or avoid the pitfalls of divorce.

Her beauty inspires his devotion, his lust, his love, his tenderness, his protectiveness, his delirium. Once inspired, he begins the journey of discovering all those other little things about her that seem now to him so powerfully alluring. Her beauty is the buttering ram that slides open doors to aspects of her subtler being that are joyously and post hoc-ally embraced by him as motivating reasons for his ardor.

Save this man, yes.

But save him from what? Himself? Or your family’s concern with appearances?

I ask with all sincerity. Because you need to be sure that you will act in your brother’s best interest. If he’s a man of solid self-possession who happens to be truly, deeply, crazily in love, leave him be. If he’s a beta who is clinging to what he imagines is a lifeline from a fate of grinding loneliness, then by all means get in his face.

Show him this blog. Let him sponge up the message that is both necessarily hateful and nourishing.

Slyly introduce finer specimens of femaledom into his life. Let him smell their intoxicating aroma.

Employ the carrot and the stick, the coax and the shame. In time, if he is not completely lost to the forces of self-doubt so preciously cultivated by our feminism glorified society, he will find his footing.

Preferably in the bed of a 22 year old stripper.

UPDATE

An astute commenter has noted that the reader requesting advice referred to the man in question as his brother, and then as his cousin. This may indeed be a troll email.

Nevertheless, the message stands. Trolls can often serve as useful springboards to discuss larger matters which do impact the lives of many men.

UPDATE 2

From original emailer,

My sincere gratitude for your post.

The cousin is a typo, he is my brother and this is a very real situation.

The woman in question is not hot at all, though not ugly – clearly post wall looking to latch on to a provider. 5 at best.

We are acting in his best interest as we can all see what will happen a few years down the road as your readers have already noted. He is more the latter than the former in terms of self possession vs beta – our working theory is that he fell headlong into this because he was in a new city working brutal hours without close friends around.

I am staging an intervention imminently and will keep you posted. The red pill will be hard for him to swallow but its better to go down swinging.

Just inform him that there are hot 21 year old women he can meet just about anywhere who would swoon for his surgeon swagger. Once he knows that, tell him he needs game. Direct him to the resources at this blog. Rudimentary game is all it should take for a whole world of young, exquisite pussy to blossom before his eyes. It sounds like the beta is strong in this fellow, so his shift in attitude from a scarcity mentality to an abundance mentality will need to be swift and sure. Good news: the shift will fully reflect his real opportunity.

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Tamerlan’s Tsarina And The Perils Of Love Marriage

So Tamerlan Tsarnaev, the older Muslim Boston bomber brother, had a loving white American wife of WASPy lineage who donned his approved Islamic head coverage and bore him his hell-spawnage. Some have asked, where was Katherine Russell’s father during her descent into badboy servitude? If the photo of the dad after news of Tamerlan’s death is any indication, the guy is giddy that his son-in-law is no longer for this world.

Arranged marriages don’t sound like much fun, but one problem with moving as a culture toward exclusively love-based marriage is that it neuters the ability of parents to exert any control over their daughters’ instinctual romantic compulsions. The ancients knew that women’s libidos were dangerous when left unchecked. But a culture that prizes doe-eyed love as the be-all and end-all of legitimate marriage must come to terms with the fact that many women love the wrong kinds of men. It’s in their genes.

When lust-fueled love as a basis for forming putative lifelong marital unions crowds out all other considerations, the influence that parents wield over their daughters’ mate choices gets winnowed as well. After all, who is a parent to say what his or her daughter feels? Love knows no reason. And so what you get is fathers like the one above, powerless to stop his daughter’s stupid decisions, and overjoyed when fate steps in to excise the cancer from his family that he wished he could excise himself, but never had the guts nor the informal societal support to do so.

Love makes betas of men, in more ways than one, and it would be wise to remember that some of those men are fathers whose authority has been gutted by the awesome power of love.

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The Wickedest Links

1. Often the best way to judge a man’s sexual market value is by the lengths to which his lover will go to please him. And by that measure, Tamerlan Tsarnaev was one hell of an alpha male. Cute Katherine Russell, The Muslim Bomber’s enraptured lover, once dreamed of going to college and joining the Peace Corps (LEFTOID ALERT). Instead, at age 21, she married Tsarnaev, bore him a vibrant spawn, converted to Islam, started wearing a hijab, and essentially surrendered her identity to submit, completely, utterly, to the man she loved. Her love did not dim even after he assaulted her in 2009. White nationalists who never miss an opportunity to white knight for white women in putative distress should take the lesson of this sordid tale to heart: You will never win the Western white woman’s loyalty by polishing her pedestal; you can only take her loyalty by showing her you can win. Chicks dig a winner.

2. Violent criminals are biologically different than the rest of us. Evidence is mounting that criminality has a physiological basis. For instance, violent criminals and psychopaths have lower resting heart rates. Causation is murky, but the correlations are strong, and it leads one to wonder if, or how, this knowledge that criminals have different brain structures than non-criminals will affect the dispensation of justice. Prediction: The lawyers will smell chum in the water and, like they have done for low IQ murderers, will manage to wrangle reduced sentences for killers on grounds of impaired volition. Alternate scenario: Minority Report.

3. Cross-cultural differences in newborn behavior (via West Hunter). Watch the video. This is the kind of inarguable evidence for innate behavioral differences in human races that should, in a sane world, send equalists who believe in cultural conditioning phantasms scurrying for shelter under rocks and in caves. But we no longer live in a sane world; it’s their world now, and that means more insanity, more sophistry, and more cheap status whoring.

4. Farming allowed civilization to flourish, but it came with costs, which we are still paying today. Question now is, do we try to recreate as feasibly as possible our ancient hunter-gatherer environment, or do we wait out the limitless suffering of the maladaptive losers until evolution has finished its culling for those who can withstand the peculiar stresses of modernity?

5. A ruling class leftoid says the freedoms enshrined in the American Constitution must be changed to help protect American freedoms. Orwell wept. Then laughed. Then spun in his grave. Remember when liberals used to be champions of American rights? Not anymore, now that the globalist leftoid prime directive is soft genocide against the white majority.

6. “[A] common border between two countries actually reduces the communication density between them, perhaps because of increased tensions.” Evidence for the CH maxim that diversity + proximity = war. Bryan Caplan’s bubble hardened.

7. The zipless fuck has become the new norm. First they scoffed. Then they sputtered. Then they knelt before the Lord of the Chateau, and sucked his cock in tribute. It should be no surprise to anyone reading here that mothers of boys are the realist of female realtalkers.

8. Krauser (a fellow traveler in the appreciation and love of women) has had some good posts lately. Here’s one on setting the frame in Skype. Here’s an interview with Daygame.com about “long game” and international pick-up. And finally, here’s an interesting post about what your video gaming habits say about your SMV rank. (Before you ask, yes, alpha males do occasionally play video games. There are some downtime enjoyments that are so essentially male they are an irresistible draw to men. Like the draw of banging farm fresh poosy. Or shooting cans off tree stumps.)

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The Wickedest Links

Why did this dude move out of the way and let his girlfriend get hit by a homerun ball? Mincing beta? Yes. Better answer: his girlfriend is chubby. Men don’t feel inspired to gallantly sacrifice for low value fat chicks.

***

A 2009 metastudy of human rape (apparently rape occurs in chimps, too), authored by a woman, found that

Among college-aged women,approximately 40% of rape victims report continuing to date their attackers (Wilson and Durrenberger 1982; Koss 1989).Women’s positive expectations for a relationship correlated to self-blame and reduced anger in response to coercion (Macy et al.2006).

Brutally ugly. Brutally anti-feminist. Amanda Marcuntte’s forested dickclit just shot a venomous dart at the heart of the world. Now why would peak nubility chicks dig rapist jerks so much so that nearly half of them find ways to rationalize their continued relationships with these ur-assholes? The study offers an intriguing explanation that is in line with Chateau teachings:

A morally troubling prediction of Smuts and Smuts’s [ed: heh] hypothesis is that use of sexual aggression may be effective in continuing a male’s sexual access to a female.

Science comes around to vindicating not just the milder Chateau truths, but the uglier, darker, beastlier Chateau truths as well.

***

Ex-leftoid admits what guests of Le Chateau knew all along: Leftoid whites hate their own culture and are engaged in a long-running, simmering status whoring war with struggling, non-SWPL whites. Prediction: the leftoids will not like the fruits of their cultural victory.

***

The Obama Administration has deleted a Bureau of Justice Statistics webpage that detailed some uncomfortable truths about race and homicide. You thought 1984 was hyperbole. You thought wrong. No, really. You thought wrong.

***

Via Jason Malloy, an unpublished study, titled “Blindness, Deprivation, and IQ: A Meta-Analysis”, opens with this bombshell:

… The present study performed a meta-analysis of studies of the IQ of visually impaired children and adults. The results of our analysis demonstrated that visual deprivation showed no effect on the average IQ scores of a severely handicapped group, and therefore it disconfirmed the cumulative deficit hypothesis … Further, the fact that the severely deprived environment of visually impaired has no impact on their average IQ score makes it less likely that the arguably less deprived environment of, for instance, Blacks in the U.S. or immigrant groups in Europe is the cause of their lower mean IQs. Our meta-analytically based study makes environmental causes of group differences in IQ less plausible and therefore genetic causes less implausible.

Homo economicus is a phantom. Gated communities are not.

***

White privilege is a term that’s been thrown around a lot lately, mostly by manboobed, scalzied whites with sexual dimorphism issues. But what is white privilege, really? Here’s an answer that’s logical, reasonable, truthful, and admirably restrained.

(As long as the status jockeying, anti-white ruling class continues in their propaganda campaigns, CH will continue to keep its cruel shiv unsheathed, aimed at their black hearts.)

***

Ross Douthat, mild-mannered, powerfully-browed Cathedral infiltrator and pilferer of original Chateau ideas (sniffed with the utmost butthurtness), has a good post on the intersection between culture, class, growing gay marriage support, and the declining rate of marriage.

Liberal doubts about the past existence of a procreative grounding for marriage notwithstanding, there’s a general understanding that the combination of the sexual revolution, economic change, and shifting gender norms have altered the way Americans conceptualize marriage, what they expect out of the institution, and how it shapes their romantic and reproductive choices. [...]

So we have this convergence, which is mostly middle America drifting toward upper middle class norms and ideas about marriage, and drifting away from the (mostly religious) institutions that preach a stronger connection between sex, procreation and wedlock. And here’s what’s striking: As middle Americanideas about marriage have converged with upper class ideas, their outcomeshave converged with the destabilized lower class. Middle American divorce rates and out-of-wedlock birth rates tracked with the college-educated until the 1980s; they’ve been converging with high school dropouts ever since. A generation ago, it seemed at least plausible that 21st century America would have two (relatively) stable marriage cultures — one upper middle class and more socially liberal, one lower middle class and more socially conservative. But in the current generation, the upper class’s values have triumphed, and the lower-middle marriage culture has gone into steeper decline.

Well worth reading in full. But would it kill Douthat and others of his ilk to mention who precisely was the source of these and similar ideas now percolating through the betastream media organs? Yes, I suppose it would kill him. Or at least kill his job security.

***

Segueing from Douthat’s column, here’s Vox riffing on an interview with actor Jeremy Irons, who said that “same sex marriage could lead to fathers marrying their own sons to avoid inheritance tax.”

I’d always assumed that the primary problem was that once it is decided that marriage could not longer be limited by sex, obviously it could not justly be limited by quantity either. But, as Irons has correctly perceived, merely removing the sex limit is sufficient to produce a truly perverse set of incentives.

Polyamory’s Box is open. Per Douthat above, the redefining of marriage from a procreative institution to a soulmate/”capstone”/love ideal (one reason for the upper class trend of egregiously expensive proposals and weddings) will inexorably redirect marriage down the path of the logic of love. If you love it, the state will let you marry it.

Love two women, and two women love you? Married! What’s that? You’re not a fan of polygamy? Equal rights!

Love your daughter in that special way? Married! What’s that? You’re not a fan of incest? Anti-love bigot!

Love your cat? Married! What’s that? Bestiality not your cup of tea? Regressive moral throwback. Don’t you know only fairness and harm are legitimate grounds for a state-sanctioned morality?

You laugh, but the logic is inescapable, and immune to legalistic legerdemain. As one anonymous wag put it, “This isn’t the slippery slope. This is Splash Mountain.”

Now personally, I don’t care about same sex marriage. Its allowance or banning has no effect on the eddies of my life, because I have always been aware that love doesn’t require signing on the dotted line. But as anti-marriage as CH has been, we must respect the Dark Enlightenment argument that the redefining of marriage as a secular social status sacrament certifying Pure Love and Flush Stock Portfolios will have far-reaching negative consequences. Marriage as an equalist wet dream means, in reality, single moms and bastard spawn as far as the eye can see. Plus, perhaps, dads marrying sons for the tax break.

***

What is the “Cathedral”? It’s high time Le Chateau gave credit where it’s due, to a one Mr. M. Moldbug. In shortened form, the Cathedral is the sum total of the American entertainment, media, academic and government industrial complexes, staffed, led, and filled out to brimming by hordes upon hordes of self-annihilating, snarky leftoids propagandizing their infinite lies to their masters in the belching hells.

Cathedral, meet the Chateau. Le Chateau proprietors, escort the Cathedral to the Hall of Endless Wounding and introduce its degenerate apparatchiks your guest of honor to The Shiv. Beautiful Shiv, sparkle for your Lord. Plunge deep, and carve the mewling id from your foes.

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The Most Dangerous Word: Love

Reread the title of this post. Love is not the most dangerous emotion. (That would be pride, followed closely by jealousy.) Love is the most dangerous word.

How so?

Because the word is pregnant with so much covert meaning. Because its utterance can mean the end, or the beginning, of a romantic adventure that spans years or decades.

Examine the multitude of ways the word can be spoken, intended and interpreted within a romantic context.

- A beta male (or beta female) speaking it incessantly in hopes of convincing or guilt-tripping an ambivalent partner to commit more deeply to the relationship.

- An alpha male (or alpha female, but typically less often encountered) declaring his love in hopes of convincing himself that his fading feelings are a mirage.

- An alpha female perfunctorily burping the word at her beta provider boyfriend during the one week of her monthly cycle when she finds the thought of sex with him repulsive.

- A normally aloof and emotionally distant alpha male or alpha female using it unexpectedly as an expression of repressed guilt for cheating or thinking about cheating.

- A beta male exclaiming love to the heavens, blind to any lack of reciprocation from the woman he loves, because he is overjoyed with his own ecstasy.

- A beta male never saying the word because he is afraid it will drive away the woman he loves. If he is thinking this, his intuition is probably true.

- Two lovers wrestling as one, ejaculating the word in a climax of sincere, unfiltered, honest passion.

- A beta female saying it to an alpha male during post-coital cuddles, misconstruing his lust energy for love energy.

- An omega male professing love to his couch crease knowing his feelings can’t be repudiated.

Recall Poon Commandments I, V and VI.

Don’t proclaim your love first. Give your woman that honor.

Don’t whore your joy. Women love higher status men, and one condition of higher status is a temperate eagerness and gratitude.

Don’t give away your emotional store. A woman appreciates a man who understands her need for anticipation and slow discovery.

A few broadly applicable suggestions for beta males and how to tame the most dangerous word would be these:

When you feel like declaring your love, stop, take a mental breath, and save it for another time.

When you declare your love, check yourself, and don’t say it again. Once is more than enough.

When your declared love has gone unanswered, don’t push for resolution, explanation or emotional deliverance, however much you want your fears allayed. Ignore the momentary rejection and bide your time. Some women will reply in kind days or weeks or even months later. If she doesn’t, you have your red flag. Start thinking about escape and renewal.

Don’t drop the love bomb immediately after you’ve dropped your jizzbomb. Women never — NEVER — believe the word to be sincerely expressed in a post-bangal glow. At best, she’ll be abstractly flattered. At worst, she’ll conflate your insistent love with your desperate lust for her body, and conclude your horniness guides your emotions. You will be weakened in her judgment as a result.

Here is my advice to alpha males regarding the use of the L word:

You will have to remind yourself to say it once in a blue moon. When you do, make sure it’s at the most inappropriate (i.e., in public) or unexpected (i.e., while she’s standing at the kitchen sink) times. She will swoon forever.

All cocky and no sincerity makes Jack a predictable boy. Either be passionate and real, or admit that you don’t really love your woman like you think you do.

If you are saying it a lot after sex, you are probably trying to convince yourself of feelings you don’t have. Enlarge your harem, and thereby reduce the amount of time spent on each lover. Absence breeds aphrodisia.

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The Strongest Links

Ten charts about sex, from OkCupid’s data lab. Usual caveats apply (selection bias, SWPL staff bias, social desirability response bias), but interesting nonetheless. Charts 7 and 10 are the best. During their prime fertility years (when they are at their hottest), thin women have the highest reported level of self-confidence and fatsos the least. No surprise there. What is surprising (if you don’t fully understand the nature of female sexuality) is how women’s self-confidence continues to rise well past their sell-by dates. There is a serene resignation that accompanies sexual expiration which likely contributes to women feeling happier in their later years, but the biggest reason for this trend is that when women are younger and immersed in the dating market — that is, when competition to win at the most important game in life is especially ruthless — their solipsism serves a valuable function as a monitor of their physical state. A woman with unnaturally high self-esteem might go on eating and lounging around, doing nothing about her weight gain, while a woman with lower self-esteem would take care of herself better to avoid realization of her worst fears. (Men, too, experience a similar gradual rise in self-confidence with age, although for them the average degree of self-confidence for all body sizes is shifted to the right compared to the average for women. Remember that men don’t suffer as much of an SMV drop with advancing age like women do. In fact, men experience an increase in SMV at older ages when women are beginning their precipitous drop to sexual invisibility.)

***

Robert Shiller destroys the idea that home ownership is a good investment. He calls it “a fad”, and likens it to investing in a car.

“If you think investing in housing is such a great idea, why not invest in cars?” he asked. “Buy a car, mothball it, and sell it in 20 years. Obviously not a good idea because people won’t want our cars. It’s the same with our houses. So, they’re not really an investment vehicle.”

Any homeowner knows that you can’t sell a home with 30-year-old roofing, carpet, and kitchen appliances. Sure, the home price might go up, but you have to adjust for years of maintenance and renovations.

***

Female sexuality is more flexible than male sexuality. (There are more *true* female bisexuals than there are male bisexuals.) The explanations given for female sexual plasticity sound plausible — especially the theory that women’s lower sex drive makes it easier for them to redirect it — but my personal theory is that women have evolved flexible sexuality as a form of in-group bonding and biological diplomacy between tribal competitors, most of whom would be other women. Or: good scissoring makes good neighbors! For this reason, you would find more bisexuality in cities, where tribal bonds are weakest and threats greatest.

***

NIH will use your taxpayer dollars to study why lesbians are lardos and gays are gracile. CH will give you the answer for free: Men are visual, women are holistic. This goes equally for homos and straights. In the next study, we will examine why so many of the Cathedralcrats are aggressively blind to reality.

***

Diversity + proximity = war. Atlanta’s suburbs are seceding from Atlanta proper. Translation: Atlanta’s white suburbs are seceding from the city of black Atlanta. Result: the suburbs and exurbs have become solvent, while the city continues to languish. De facto resegregation is going to be the story of 21st century America. It will be dressed up in plausibly deniable SWPL semantics, of course, but the motivation and inner voices will sing the same tune — “We’re getting the hell away from these intractable race problems.”

***

Diversity + proximity = war, Part 2. Latina randomly attacks white girl. You know how that flaxen white girl hair inspires raw, envious hatred in the Other. Not kidding.

***

Diversity + proximity = war, Part 3. The equivalent of the Nazi’s yellow jewish star to identify Jews in the population has come to Wisconsin, where education officials — representing a propaganda arm of the Cathedral — are

encouraging white students to wear a white wristband “as a reminder about your (white) privilege.” [...]

The webpage also offers a series of suggestions for high schools students to become more racially sensitive. They include:

• Wear a white wristband as a reminder about your privilege, and as a personal commitment to explain why you wear the wristband.
• Set aside sections of the day to critically examine how privilege is working.
• Put a note on your mirror or computer screen as a reminder to think about privilege.

The Wisconsin DPI also sponsors several similar programs, including CREATE Wisconsin, an on-going “cultural sensitivity” teacher training program which focuses largely on “whiteness” and “white privilege.”

Reeducation camps. That’s what our university and public school systems and HR departments have become. The scum who perpetrate these programs of psychological white annihilation dress up their motives in bureaucratic gibberish:

Geared towards high school students, the program “seeks to build capacity in schools and districts serving low-income families to develop an effective, sustainable, research-based program of family-school-community partnerships,” according to its Facebook page.

…but we know better. You will take their diversity, good long and hard, even if they have to lobotomize you to ensure your compliance.

***

Diversity + proximity = war, Part 4. There is evidence that as the country becomes more vibrantly diverse, whites in close contact with this diversity shift their views to more socially conservative ones, such as withdrawing support for illegal immigrant amnesty. You could call this the “brush with reality” voter preference theory. White Democrats may flock to the Republican party as they feel the familiarity of their majority neighborhoods suffocating under the grip strength of diversity, and they are beset on all sides by antagonistic groups who want to bleed them dry (or make them wear identifying “badges of privilege”). The question now is whether a white Dem exodus to the GOP will be big enough, and soon enough, to counteract the Hispanic influx to the Dems and prevent the country from becoming a facsimile of Ecuador.

A little bit of diversity is colorful fun, but a lot of diversity is national suicide. No (prosperous) nation should go beyond an 80% majority/20% minority ratio. Once that majority share starts slipping below 70%… event horizon trouble is brewing. You can tell a nation is on the path to implosion by the number of Orwellian signs around mixed neighborhoods boldly proclaiming “Diversity is Unity”. If diversity truly was unity, our Cathedral commissars would not have to blare the message on every street corner and ram it into our skulls. The unity would be self-evident. A good rule of thumb is that the more a ruling class idea is separated from reality, the more diligently it must be propagandized.

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Beta Female Relationship Whoring

Reader MrJohn writes:

I didn’t know where else to talk to someone about this thing I’ve witnessed, so why not here. Valentine is really a great holiday to spot the betas of the world. Here’s a beta from Sweden. All seen on Facebook. The girl (24) and the guy (about 28) has been dating for about a half year. The past months she’s openly called him ‘hubby’ on FB, although they are not engaged. She’s pretty much unemployed and has definitely gained a lot of weight lately. I don’t wanna post pictures of her, but she’s a solid 6. He looks a bit feminine, bordering on gay with his facial expressions. He works his ass off to please her. The typical Swedish guy I guess.

Looking at her page, she has been posting almost every hour of the valentines evening. And at mid-night she’s summing up the evening: (Yeah updating Facebook before giving him sex or any other trivial activity)

“Last pics to summarise our night  saw this movie here, got 15 roses of my favourite colours, three course dinner and finished the day with slow dance in our living room. I have such a wonderful man. Thank you (name). Love you with all my heart and hopefully 80 more years of this to come <3″

- attached are photos of them together in restaurants, with roses and all that.

I feel sick somehow. Am I just too sensitive? Perhaps this is the way to do valentines?

What has sickened you, gentleman reader, is the phenomenon of the beta female engaged in the act of relationship whoring.

You are right to retch, for beta female relationship whoring (BFRW, sounded out “Beef Raw”) is among the most transparent of ego-stroking ploys utilized by undesirable or marginally desirable women. You really want to call them out but, hey, polite society and all. That’s why we have this blog; so you can say what’s on your mind with the kind of freedom that nowadays only naive, small children or cantankerous old farts get to enjoy.

Women of questionable sexual worth who have “snagged” men of higher value, however precariously, are frequently susceptible to feeling urges to advertise on the flimsiest pretexts the undying love their loosely committed boyfriends have for them.

The reason the beta female feels this urge is because such overblown advertising of her relationship strength (as defined by the extent to which the man caught up in her shenanigans lavishes her with gifts and paeans to her awesomeness) serves multiple evolutionary purposes:

1. It signals her fidelity to her one-foot-in-one-foot-out boyfriend. Many men will settle for women less pretty than their ideal if those women compensate by offering implied (paternity) guarantees of present and future faithfulness.

2. It warns away female poachers. If her boyfriend is moveable product, there is a good chance he will bolt at the first sign of interest from a hotter girl. Women love taken men, but their predilection to act on that evil female instinct may be suppressed if the girlfriend of the desired man can fool her hotter competition into thinking he only has eyes for her.

3. It stroketh thine ego. A girl with a well-lubed ego is a happier girl who will be a more congenial girlfriend. (Congeniality nullified if happy ego results in ice cream aided fattitude.)

4. It is social oxytocin (or proxy oxytocin). The hormonally-charged bonding that naturally occurs in the early stages of a relationship can be synthesized quicker by ruses to project the relationship to a point in the future when it would presumably be stronger and more committed. Players use a modification of this strategy to speed up the time to sex, called time compression, time distortion, or future pacing.

5. If the girl is a bit prettier than average, say a 6 or 7, and on the wall side of 25, the beta female relationship whoring strategy could just as easily function for her as a self-regulating mechanism which “tricks” her into feeling stronger love for her boyfriend than she might in actuality feel, thus hindering any impulse she might have to trade up and risk a sure thing. Women have a more powerful “trading up” urge than do men, and this instinct can get them in trouble if they don’t have the self-discipline to know when they have a good thing and act accordingly.

Relationship whoring is essentially a technique employed by lower quality females for discouraging the competition and for encouraging the fence-sitting boyfriend to discard his fantasy of scouring the field for a hotter replacement. It can also serve to push a woman closer to a beta boyfriend so that she does not ruin herself on a perpetual hunt for commitment from an elusive alpha male.

If you doubt the efficacy of this strategy, here’s a thought experiment. Tell me, as a man, given two women of equal facial and body attractiveness, would you find it harder to dump or cheat on a woman who was emotionally distant and giving little indication she was interested in an LTR, or harder to dump or cheat on a woman who professed your mutual love to the world and tacitly confessed her utter devotion to you?

I mean, unlike me, assume you are a non-sociopath in the above thought experiment.

You may ask why one does not nearly as often witness this vile practice of BFRW from hot girls, or from very ugly girls.

Well, in the first case, hot girls have more options. They are thus less likely within any given relationship to feel as urgent a need to restrict their own choices by advertising their status as taken women. They are also less apt to feel insecurity about their boyfriends’ levels of commitment, (men are way more willing to stick around and invest if the lady is a champ), and they are less afraid of competition. (The threat of competition that would arise by dating a desirable alpha male is counteracted by the reduced threat of competition from being better looking than most of her female peers.)

In the second case, uglier girls (4s and under) don’t resort so much to the BFRW strategy because they don’t generally date men who are of sufficient sexual market value to entice female interlopers. The ugly girl is with a low value man, and nobody wants either of them, least of all themselves, despite the alacrity to which they resign themselves to their moribund romantic fate.

Middling girls are the ones who most benefit from BEEF RAW. Facebook is filled with 5s, 6s and 7s promoting pics of their candlelit Valentines dinners with herbish boyfriends looking for all the world like they’d rather be gunning down starships in an MMO.

What’s especially revealing about the BFRW subculture is that a man can indirectly appraise his own SMV by his inclusion or absence from BFRW antics. If your girlfriend has posted pics of you and her in all manner of romantic obsequiousness, you are probably a beta male with just enough SMV to avoid involuntary celibacy. If, in contrast, your girlfriend admirably restrains herself from the lure of online attention whoring and shouting your abject devotion to the heart of the world, you are probably an alpha male dating a good-looking lady of character. Hang up your player vestments, because…….. hahaha, who am I kidding!? You were gaming in your mama’s womb (stealing her resources) and you’ll be gaming till your last breath leaves you.

So, no, reader, this is not the way to do Valentine’s Day, unless you are a beta who doesn’t mind putting up with suffocating female crap and scaring away hotter girls who might be future conquests. Just get her a Skittles bag, enjoy her everlasting love, and be happy you aren’t getting pushed off-course your program to maintain relationship limbo in perpetuity.

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Reader Mailbag: A Valentine’s Day Plea

A reader celebrates the holiday of love:

I won’t bore you with my long story. Ex of 8 years cheated, dumped me, I learned about game and Alpha Males, started being awesome. She came running back, I backslide by banging her for a few months while seeing other women too. Learned she banged two of my friends. Was an idiot and let her end things.

I’m doing ok now, teaching myself to destroy my enemies and relentlessly chase my dreams. Can’t help but be irritated at this callous bitch and the shitty friends who chose her used up vaj over friendship. I’m moving on, [ed: are you sure?] but there is one thing I really wanna do…bang her sister.

Sister is younger than her by 5 years, looked up to me in her teens, isn’t my biggest fan after the breakup, but when in the same room we’re friendly. What angle can I use to try and seal the deal and destroy my ex for good.

Don’t you love a heartwarming Valentine’s Day story?

First of all, you’re not over your ex if you want to “destroy her for good”. That said, I know the feeling of exacted vengeance, and it feels good. Banging her sister would certainly do the trick, although there are easier ways to rain pain upon your ex-flame. (Ya know, just letting her see you in the company of a hotter girl would work, too, and without inviting all that messy familial shit.)

Women are naturally competitive, though they may sweetly claim otherwise, so I’ve no doubt your ex’s sister has at times entertained the thought of stealing you for herself. Now whether she still entertains that thought is open to question. I get the vibe from your email that you didn’t comport yourself in an attractive, aloofly alpha manner during your drawn-out breakup.

How about this angle: Try innuendo. Plant the seed of oblique romance and tell her a variation on these words: “Your sister is a great person, despite flaws we all share. It didn’t work out, but that’s for the best. When I was with her, there was often… someone else on my mind.”

Linger, linger, aaaaaand… walk off. Return another day to escalate the flirtation. Poison the sisterly well by absently remarking on this or that negative comment your ex made about her sister, true or not. Wonder aloud if your ex ever made moves on her sister’s boyfriends, because, ahhh, forget it… ok, ok, there was that one time she mentioned something weird about dancing with Kevin… yeah, yeah, you figured it was her Kevin your ex was talking about.

You get the idea, champ. Whatever you do, DO NOT tip your hand in the slightest that your pursuit is driven by butthurtness. You must remain as cool and calculating as you were, presumably, when you first seduced your ex.

***

Reader #2 asks:

From a transcipt on Obama’s State of the Union speech last night:

“And we’ll work to strengthen families by removing the financial deterrents to marriage for low-income couples and do more to encourage fatherhood, because what makes you a man isn’t the ability to conceive a child, it’s having the courage to raise one. And we want to encourage that. We want to help that.”

Your thoughts?

Nice platitudes. Prepare for wallet raping. Because wallet raping is all this present day crop of pols knows how to do.

***

Reder #3 wonders about girls and horses (horse cock sold separately):

I continue to meet and (sometimes) date females who are into riding horses. Sometimes they own the horses… sometimes they lease them, sometimes they just ‘rent them’. However, as I continue to meet more of the horse girls, the more convinced I am that something just isn’t right.

Unfortunately, I live in an affluent area in the county where sometimes the cost of the horse exceeds the cost of the house people live in, and they cherish the horse more than anything else.

Some help for us guys who continue to run into them? Are there any stable ( ha ha) horse chicks out there? Should I continue to date them and see where it goes? Have you had any experience yourself?

A < snarky fat feminist who thinks she’s clever >metric fuckton< / snarky fat feminist who thinks she’s clever > has been written about the love pretty girls have for horsemeat, ahem, cantoring stallions. Theories abound, and you can search for them at your nearest internet kiosk. My personal favorite theory is that the horse is a surrogate for the exciting badboy: dangerously explosive power tamed precariously under her tender tutelage. The horse evokes her nurturance instinct, her desire to monopolize and channel male (or animal) power, and her thrill for wild, unpredictable beasts with soulful brown eyes.

Remember, folks, we gave this gender the vote!

I’ve been around girls who either had family-owned horses or went horse riding semi-regularly. Very loosely, they tend to favor hard-charging, elitist men, kind of like their horses. Some of the older horse-loving women are closet lesbians, but the younger ones are hetero and usually feminine. Psychologically, they are different than cat lovers with respect to their propensity for drama; the cat ladies have it in spades. Other than that, further stereotyping eludes. Too many crazy SWPLs have clouded my ability to discern extra special craziness in female sub genera.

***

Reader #4 has lost his taste for his womenfolk:

So, I’ve dated lots of girls in life, and I’ve dumped most of them.  Mostly, they’ve been lunatics, liars, and leeches.

In time, I started dating other ethnicities.  Eventually, I married an asian.  I’m caucasian.

I see lots of 7s and 8s these days, and they’re mostly caucasian.  But for some reason–for some strange reason–every time I see a caucasian chick, I’m filled with disgust and I’m repulsed on some levels.  Why?  I’m not a racist.  I’m not a liberal white self-hating kind of a guy.  It’s just that I’m “formed” in this way.  Something compells my subconscious to say “she’s worthy, she’s cool” if she’s from some other exotic locale.  But my own white skin?  I just don’t trust it.

Thoughts?

What’s happened to me?

The troll is strong in this email. But, it’s soon to be Valentine’s Day, and I’m feeling gullible.

Some minority of people in any race probably have a limbic disposition for other-race mates. I dunno the number. Say, 5%. These peeps, of whom you may be one, are particularly aroused by exotic women, and in particular naturally feminine exotic women, such as the asian. It could be nothing more than that.

Or, you may have had a damagingly bad experience with a white woman and the event left you with a repulsing psychological imprint which redounds to all white women.

Whichever it is, I’m not sure why I included your email in this mailbag, except perhaps to throw stinky chum into the commenter water. And this is why National Review won’t annex my talents.

***

Reader #5 would like to know how to deflect attention from a girl he doesn’t care for:

Been running game for a couple of months. Seeing some good results but also interest from the wrong areas. One girl, a high 7, is obsessive. Just for fun, what’s the most beta set of moves I could pull to make her stop feeling attraction?

Get caught fucking a dude in a furry suit.

Well, you asked.

For real, just stop talking to her. If she’s not the psycho sort, she’ll eventually take the hint and cry it out in her dim bedroom alone.

But, if you don’t have the patience to wait it out, and kind of like having her around for pivot reasons, I suggest the following betatization program:

1. Pretend every second of your day you are hiding from alien probes. Sit hunched, look nervously around the room, cross your arms and legs, hold your drink up to your nose, shudder a lot, shuffle, hang your head, spaz out at hearing loud noises, cry for no reason, look at your shoes when you speak, announce that flourescent lighting scares you.

2. Confess that you love her. Make sure to sound as nervous as possible. Apply fake sweat beads to your forehead. Tell her you wrote her a poem, and would like to read it aloud. When she screws up her face, cry. Whine that you just knew she wouldn’t like it.

3. Confide to her that you’ve been having erectile dysfunction problems. Say that you don’t mind telling her because you feel so close to her.

4. Constantly accuse her of seeing other men. “Were you with somebody yesterday?” “Who’s that guy? You know him?” “Did you sleep with him?” “Why do you have so many guy friends?” “Don’t you think it’s weird that you talk to other men besides me?”

5. Ask her if she loves you. Ask her twenty more times until she gives an answer that is acceptably foul to you.

6. Espouse feminism.

There are plenty more ball-shriveling tactics, but these should do the trick. If they don’t, you are probably lying that she is a “high 7″. Fat, desperate loser would be my guess, because no woman with a modicum of sexual value would be able to withstand that beta onslaught for long without retching.

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The Season Of Donating

It wouldn’t be Christmas spirit if I didn’t ask readers for generous gifts under the Donate Tree over there ===>

The giving of gifts, the receiving of gifts. You know you want to. It feels good! Like handjobs under the table at a fancy restaurant.

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