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Archive for the ‘Tool Time’ Category

Excessive focus on IQ like that found in certain HBD quarters is dangerous for the reason that it will blind one to group differences in other important human characteristics.

Before hackles rise, this post is not an apologia for ignoring mean and individual IQ differences. IQ matters, arguably matters more than anything else, in big and small and strange ways. You will hardly find a soul who’d wish to possess fewer IQ points than more IQ points.

But IQ isn’t the whole story. There are, for instance, group differences in personality, temperament, proclivity to violence, trustworthiness, and what I’ll call General Interactive Behavioral Socialization (GIBS…medat).

That last mouthful is just a fancy way of describing how people socialize and behave when they aren’t constrained by etiquette or coerced by authority figures to act otherwise. A roomful of white people will organically form a particular social dynamic that is quite different than that formed by a roomful of black people, even controlling for IQ. Anyone who isn’t a lying liar and has not spent a lifetime in a cave knows this intuitively. High school cafeterias are usually the first real world laboratory where these truths about group social behavior and self-segregation become incontestably apparent. We then spend the rest of our lives trying to forget the patterns we noticed in high school.

Proof of group differences in personality and behavior can be found in science, if you’re the sort to mistrust your lying eyes. Chinese and White infants exhibit stark personality differences. In school, black students behave wildly different from white students, even within the same classroom where instruction and teacher demands are similarly accorded.

IQ fetishism can lead the sperg type to sputter futilely when confronted by a trollish leftoid provocateur who disingenuously (or racially) advocates for the importation of millions of Northeast Asians with their average 105 IQs into historically White countries with their average 100 IQs. If IQ is your be all-end all, you won’t have a defense against that line of argument. Now, if I *had* to choose at gunpoint, I’d rather America be flooded with a billion Chinese than a billion Africans, but this doesn’t mean that a billion Chinese, however efficient they are at building high-tech metropolises, won’t utterly destroy America as she used to be known and change it into something resembling China 2.

IQ similarity notwithstanding to the contrary, the Chinese people as a group are markedly different in temperament and personality than White European people as a group. If you value diversity of nations, you would be against turning America into China 2. No offense to the Chinese, but I’d rather they enjoy the full flowering of their Chinese-ness in their own country.

Given the obvious implications above, you would think that normally smart bloggers would avoid straying into territory that fetishizes IQ to the detriment of any other consideration. Commenting about enclaves for the intelligent, PA wrote,

Any solution short of dejure racial segregation will be harmful to whites. But I understand, baby steps toward dismantling the Civil Rights monstrosity we’re living under now.

A white person with 90 IQ is very different from a 90-IQ back in temperament, attitude toward sex and family, future time orientation, taste in music, and a myriad other things.

Lower-SES whites also need informal social contact with higher SES whites for aspirational reasons and guidance. Higher class whites also benefit from communal ties with blue collar whites–the malign downstream effect of the upper class white bubble is apparent in nearly every subject of discussion here.

This sensible appreciation of race differences beyond the IQ factor was met with scorn by the NYC-residing proprietor.

A 90-IQ white is a lot more like a 90-IQ black than he or she is like a 115-IQ white.

And 90-IQ whites are pretty much identical to 90-IQ Mestizo Hispanics.

A statement like this betrays a lifetime devoted to shutting oneself into a video gaming room or an exclusive summer camp. I don’t know if he’s lived in downscale white or black neighborhoods — if he claims he has and still makes statements like this perhaps he should be called “Liar of the Blogosphere” — but for those who have the thing you notice almost before you notice if it’s raining outside is how differently “prole” whites behave from ghetto or even middle class blacks. A group of 90 IQ whites won’t be scintillating company to a 115 IQ spiteful ingrate, and they’ll have some annoying habits of mind and banal cultural pleasures, but they will never be mistaken for a group of 90 IQ blacks. Not by anyone with a modicum of personal integrity. The difference in vibe and social experience, not to mention volume, will feel like a slap across the face.

IQ fetishism, in case you couldn’t previously tell, happens to be quite frequently the province of HBDers with an axe to grind against… mmm, how shall we say… heathen whites. The acidic spite and nursed lifelong hatred waft like a cloud of smog from a Shanghai knock-off factory.

SWPLs and their sympatico ethnies don’t much care for flyover whites, but if their hands were forced you can bet Fuckerberg’s bankroll that they’d choose to live in a neighborhood of predominately 90 IQ whites than in a hood of predominately 90 IQ blacks. The hatred they feel for “the wrong kind of white people” — as opposed to the indifference and pity and paternalism they feel toward their non-white pawns — is better explained by that ageless aphorism “There but for the grace of God go I”. As kissing cousins, the massed numbers of prole whites are the nearest threat to the pretentious SWPL’s cultivated sense of aristocratic superiority.

In related shivs, I wonder if LotB is aware that the cast of Jersey Shore are prepped to exaggerate their prole behavior to extremes? It’s like he actually believes reality TV is reality. Too funny!

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Liberals are gloating over the recent editorial choices to geld Thor and race cuck Captain America. The former will become Whor, the female Thor, and the latter will become Captain Gibsmedat, the numinous negro who saves the right kinds of white people from the wrong kinds of white people.

I kid, I kid… you not. The last time I read a comic I was 7. I don’t get the appeal of the genre to grown men with, presumably, descended testes. Nevertheless, the anti-white male animus driving these character changes that have shocked and delighted and stirred the quivering anuses of the comic book reading community are yet one more telling detail of America’s decline.

The decline is in the details.

One common thread to most of these anti-white male insurgencies is the cast of goons and misfits running the show into the ground. Take a look at this face shot of the fat white liberal quasi-male named Devin Faraci, who dribbled a premenstrual snarkstain titled “Sorry White People, Captain America is Black Now.”

Hat tip, League of Extraordinary Sadists.

The fat white liberal face is archetypal. These race traitors all have a “look”, don’t they? Genetics, perhaps, or just a lifetime spent wiping orange Cheetostaches off their porcine mugs. Look at that faggot. He could double as an old lesbian halfway through her hormonal replacement therapy. If ever a face looked as if it was born to have a fist buried in it, Faraci has it.

The anti-white liberal white male is the most loathsome of creatures. More despicable than the minorities he jerks off to, because he fulminates a credo at 180 degree odds with his chosen lifestyle for status whoring feels. Hypocritical, smug, and you just know the first to run from a fight, gathering his skirt up and shrieking like a little girl.

I wonder about the demographics of this pigman’s neighborhood? Anyone care to investigate? I might put up a post in future called “The Leftoid List”, with the names of infamous anti-white leftoid equalist turds juxtaposed with the race demographics of their immediate neighborhoods. Should be illuminating.

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Cuck Up

Cuck up, idiom, slang, origin: Chateau Heartiste.
1. Variation on the “man up” theme; to demand of a cuckolded man that he support the bastard child of his cheating wife or girlfriend.
2. A taunt directed at a beta male to ostensibly shame him to provide for the child of another man’s seed, often delivered by ugly feminists and low SMV white knights who are projecting their fear of mass beta male abandonment of a sexual market skewed by law and custom to satisfy the preferences of women and women alone.

Courtesy of reader Waffles, a (probably fake but still illuminating) story on Reddit that serves as a wonderful microcosm of the murky churn at the bottom of the sexual market, where fat sluts dupe manboobed omegas into race cuckoldry.

Off topic but will be appreciated by the CH crowd. Over on Reddit a debate was going on after some guy posted this. His kid came out black. There apparently were actually people telling him that he should “man up” and take care of the kid as his own! Delusional.

The OP:

I did not walk out on anything. It is not my responsibility to raise a kid that did not come from me. I may sound like an ass, but I can’t believe the people who said to raise it as mine. Imagine your wife finally getting pregnant, only to see a different race pop out, and you realize it’s not yours. I am not raising that kid, however enjoy your free karma.

definitely not master of her domain

Some choice replies:

Some white babies do come out looking black though, sometimes you gotta let it air out for a little bit for the complexion to even up.

:lol:

At least your wife had the decency to fuck a black man, so you could tell she cheated on you. So you’ve got that going for you, which is nice.

Womb half-full.

Did you drink grape soda the day before?

Science!

Before you lawyer up and sue for divorce, I would ask you to take a step back and a deep breath. Try to remember that it isn’t the little guy’s fault.

Cuck up… “for the children”.

I must ask, are you mad that the child is not yours; Or is it because the child is Black?

Because racism is the true moral outrage here.

He has your palms.

at least he has a chance to get laid before he turns 30

You laugh, but every other relationship depicted on televagina these days is essentially a warmly accommodated race cuckold fantasy. Sorry White knighters… white women eat that shit up.

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“i’m biased against PIV”

The Germans have a word (the Germans always have a word) for “a punchable face”: Backpfeifengesicht.

Why do these male feminists all look the same? Is there a factory that shits out bald, pale, pencil-necked, peach-fuzzed, brony fluffers who were born with full diapers?

Self-flagellation is nothing new for the pillow biter set, but one wonders how effective the male feminism pose is as a mating strategy. Assuming the androgyne above isn’t a bottom, he must cop this degrading attitude on some level to score flabby feminist poon. It’s either an evolved behavioral strategy that works juuust often enough to prevent it from being culled from the male population, or, like open borders race cuckoldry, it’s a maladaptive expression of a genetic trait that may have been useful a long time ago in a different sexual environment when the steppe thundered with brazen misogynists and the sensitive man had some relative value to women.

Regardless, the male feminist strategy sucks for attracting cute girls unless you have compensating attributes like charm or social status.

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Word of advice: Barring extenuating circumstances, don’t go out with a group of guy friends and one cute woman. You will righteously tool yourself before you’ve taken two steps toward self-hell into the bar.

The ultimate in toolbaggery is the group of mirin’, pleased-as-punch über orbiters who show up to a venue with one hot girl in tow. Or rather, at center stage. Because that’s where she inevitably ascends — straight to a social throne that her gaggle of beta pissboys have adorned for her.

I recently witnessed such a spectacle. Five men — not strange looking by any stretch, just normal dudes in department-wear — and one flaxen-haired hottie tucked in the middle of her men-ses, like a small sun radiating through a Saturnian Tool Belt. Everywhere she drifted, they followed, establishing without a doubt to the unbiased third party eye who was gravitationally in charge. When she smiled, her triptych of tools smiled on cue. When she pointed at something, they looked en masse in the direction of her pointing finger. When she laughed, they laughed uproariously. When she sat down, they encircled her even more tightly, parting occasionally to unwittingly afford her a better view of better men.

And when she touched the arm of any one of them, the rest shuffled and frowned with noticeable agitation.

But the coup de brah by a long shot was when the five guys enlisted the help of a passing bartender to take a photo of the girl surrounded by her eunuch guards. The barkeep obliged, and the assembled onlookers retched. When he walked away after returning the phone-cum-camera, I was privy to his eye roll and bastard grin that he signaled to a colleague still behind the bar. The girls in my company also noticed the entire scene as it unfolded, and politely strained to hide their pity.

No one respects a beta orbiter, not even women. Everyone knows a beta orbiter when he sees him. But FIVE beta orbiters hoisting the royal palanquin of a darling princess? Have you no shame, sirs?!

Not one of those men was boffing that girl, I would bet your life savings on it. Every one of those men *wanted* to boff that girl, continuing in the theme of betting your life savings on it. She had no interest in boffing any of them, and to this bet I would add your mom’s life savings.

What is happening to men of the West? By most indicators they have forgotten how to be men, or if they know they’ve lost interest in the art. They kneel at the feet of women, kiss her painted toes, and kowtow to her every whim. They gleefully sacrifice their dignity to public judgment and ridicule. They thirst for the pussy like lost adventurers lapping sand from hallucinatory oases.

Mind you, my complaints extend as far as my big-picture interest in preserving the culture which facilitates my poolside time. As a practical, day-to-day calculation, the abject fealty of my competition increases the destructive power of my game.

If you’re a beta suffering a lengthy dry spell, don’t expect relief to come from the accompaniment of an asexual female friend. Certainly don’t expect it if she is accompanied by four more of your male buddies. If you must go out accompanied by a cute female friend, leave your buddies home. Insist that any additional hangers-on exclude too many of her male friends and include a few of her female friends. And, for the love of all that is hole-y, check the game literature for strategies and techniques detailing how to use a cute girl-friend as a pivot to other cute girls you have a realistic chance of sexing. Because that’s about the best use of a cute female buddy.

It’s almost tragic how unaware beta males are of the latent male SMV-boosting power which resides in an attractive female friend who can trigger the preselection algorithms of nearby girls. Unaware, and incapable of exploiting it. But isn’t that just another dulcet note in the battle hymn of the beta male? Strike suicidally at one’s own breast plate, and drip blood until a chubby spinster with sprog on the mind rescues you.

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Remember this post about the romantic Kiwi betaboy who followed an American woman around all night on New Year’s Eve like a puppy dog, only to part at 6AM with nothing to show for it but her coy instruction to “find me”? The niceguy romantic beta had one photo of her on his phone, which he promptly enlarged to masturbation size and uploaded to Facebook hoping she would see the green light at the end of his pier and the world would help them reunite in McLovin bliss.

There’s an update to this story. The girl found out about his Facebook campaign to locate her. Guess what happened.

A lovelorn New Zealand man who asked the Internet for help finding the American girl he met in Hong Kong last year on New Year’s Eve has found her – and she doesn’t seem too happy about it.

Reese McKee, 25, gained thousands of followers when he posted a picture of ‘Katie’ and his story of dancing the night away with her last December. She left him only with a first name, a hint that she lived ‘in D.C.’ and the alluring request: ‘find me.’

He has now revealed that online sleuths did, indeed, find her. And they mobbed her with so many messages that she deleted every single one of her social media accounts within hours. [...]

Mr McKee says he hasn’t reached out to her yet – he’s waiting for the online furor to die down.

But, as one slightly horrified blogger points out, it’s likely she has no desire to to speak with Mr McKee now. Their romantic night took place nearly one year ago.

‘A year is enough time for someone to get married, go through several relationships, or even have a child,’ blogger amiantos writes.

It takes a lot of beta to convince a blue city American girl to tear down her Facebook wall. She must have felt the kind of disgust that’s typically reserved for mutilated bodies, dog shit, and flabby male feminists.

Moral of the story: Women are so predictable.

Some good does appear to have come out of this niceguy’s romantic abandonment.

Even Mr McKee seems a little sheepish about his quest to be reunited with the girl he had a chance meeting with a year ago. He told the Herald that he has turned down multiple media interview requests – including from ABC’s Good Morning America.

Shortly after Katie was found, he deleted his Facebook profile and the Facebook event that invited fans to help find her.

What’s that sensation hiding between the lines? Oh yes. Burning shame. Enough time has passed since the RealTalk Revolution invaded the public consciousness that it wouldn’t be a stretch to think betaboy here caught his eyeballs on a few websites such as this one and experienced a rude awakening about the nature of women and his own self-defeating courtship missteps. Two people win when a man is saved from incel purgatory: The man, and the woman he dates who gets to experience the joy of a proper seduction.

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Fat apologists:

Environmental shocks:

Keepin’ it real.

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The post title is a quote of Tyler Cowen, aka Cheap Chalupas aka Bargain Beans, from a Walled Street Journal review of his book “Average is Over” (h/t to Plucky Gents, Inc.),

To sum up, Mr. Cowen believes that America is dividing itself in two. At the top will be 10% to 15% of high achievers, the “Tiger Mother” kids if you like, whose self-motivation and mastery of technology will allow them to roar away into the future. Then there will be everyone else, slouching into an underfunded future of lower economic expectations, shantytowns and an endless diet of beans. I’m not kidding about the beans.

Poor Americans, writes Mr. Cowen, will have to “reshape their tastes” and live more like Mexicans. “Don’t scoff at the beans,” he says. “With an income above the national average, I receive more pleasure from the beans, which I cook with freshly ground cumin and rehydrated, pureed chilies. Good tacos and quesadillas and tamales are cheap too, and that is one reason why they are eaten so frequently in low-income countries.”

Cowen likes to eat his nation’s heritage with a sprinkling of freshly ground cumin and a side of refried beans. You can’t make this shit up. If it were any other psychologically healthy person, I would say this quote is a deliberate self-parody to subvert the deracinating Elsa Island narrative. But Cowen is borderline sperg, so you can assume his sincerity.

Commenter Porter responds,

More pleasure from the beans than what? Wearing a gimp suit? Having a sigmoidoscopy? And do the epicurean delights of bean consumption occur with or despite a higher than the national average income?

Does this Maria Antoinette actually believe his imported oompa loompas will forever docilely dine on discarded legumes while he devours caviar, truffles, and quail eggs? More importantly, does he have any subsidiary labor units…what pre-beaners called “children?” What are his hopes for their future? A warm grate in the winter? A cozy 300sqft favela? A hale old age of 35? Perhaps he assumes his higher than the national average income will purchase for them the best electrified concertina money can buy. Or perhaps he simply doesn’t give a damn. After all, The Economy is a jealous master.

An above national average amount of open borders nutjobbery is abetted by low ruling class fertility. When you don’t have kids, you don’t care much for entrusting a prosperous and livable nation to its posterity. You mostly care about cheap iPhones and status whore feels with your ideologically inbred SWPL courtesans. Your coin of the realm is phony morals instead of fecund maidens.

On a related TCCC post about Switzerland’s recent pro-national integrity vote to curb immigration, commenter The Anti-Gnostic writes,

how much immigration is possible without a backlash?

Lots, when you have an entire Cathedral that mandates equal treatment and endlessly reminds everyone how horrible and stupid they are for not allowing high-rise apartments on every square foot of available space.

Also, of course this is all framed in terms of “backlash.” In the Cathedral’s calculation, corporations exist but nations do not, and people are interchangeable cogs.

The more important question is how much immigration is possible before the traits which made the host society desirable to begin with are lost? I think that percentage is probably quite low, particularly for K-selected societies importing r-selected societies. My hunch, and it’s just a hunch, around 5%/yr immigrants assimilate. Around 10%/yr they gravitate to certain areas and leverage their presence. The natives start withdrawing. Above 10%/yr, the immigrants want their own country. Sure, they may speak the language and adopt some superficial norms, but at that point it’s not about assimilation but transformation.

The natives, lacking anywhere to withdraw, start shutting down.

Taking a cue from The Anti-Gnostic, a good metric for predicting at what levels Diversity + Proximity will explode into War by whichever means is a tiered alert system based on percentage of country that is foreign or otherwise ethnically or racially very different from the people who created and sustain the nation and its culture. CH suggests a reformatted DEFCON warning system, called DIVCON, for Diversity Overload Condition.

DIVCON 5: Five percent of population is genetically and culturally distant from natives. Assimilation probable with minimal fiscal outlay or native sacrifice.

DIVCON 4: Ten percent of population is genetically and culturally distant from natives. Assimilation possible with substantial fiscal outlay. Social cohesion index (SCI) shows first signs of stress. Foreign immigrants begin to self-segregate into politically potent neighborhoods that serve as conduits for overseas relatives and the continuance of their homeland cultures.

DIVCON 3: Twenty percent of population is genetically and culturally distant from natives. Assimilation improbable without enormous fiscal outlay and native sacrifice. SCI records explosion of cultural and racial fault lines running through regions and communities. Foreign immigrants and non-native minorities control entire neighborhoods and some cities. Multilingualism is codified into law. Native and racial flight from these non-native outposts of political and cultural control accelerates.

DIVCON 2: Thirty percent of population is genetically and culturally distant from natives. Assimilation impossible despite massive debt-propped outlays and propagandized humiliation of natives to abjure their culture and identity. SCI passes threshold from greater social cohesion to greater social strife. States begin to switch political allegiances as demographic change sweeps out native majority status. Native/racial flight peaks in intensity, limited only by economically constrained immobility. Self-segregation reverses historical integrationist policies. Regional power bases coalesce as federal power simultaneously strengthens and fractures. Anti-native propaganda loses its influence to inform native sensibilities and self-identity.

DIVCON 1: Forty percent or more of population is genetically and culturally distant from natives. Nation begins irrevocable transformation into resembling the countries from which the non-native populations originate. Political compromise impossible. Jury system breaks down along ethnic and racial boundaries. Wealth inequality reaches historical maximums. SCI red lines. Social discord and native ennui/withdrawal from civic processes undermine legitimacy of state apparatuses. “Anarcho-tyranny” — underclass and overclass lawlessness combined with police state intimidation of native middle class — is implemented to tamp down rising hostilities. Major cities and some states are abandoned by natives to non-native control. Redistribution to politically powerful non-natives impoverishes the natives. Anti-native propaganda assaults every cultural institution, becomes bolder and more transparently aggressive. Natives begin active and unapologetic campaigns against ruling class propaganda. Racial and cultural tensions provoke excessive and violent government response. Free speech surrendered as a founding principle. Mass surveillance and kangaroo courts operate with impunity.

At DIVCON 1, political and armed rebellion become distinct possibilities. Secession movements grow in number and intensify rapidly. Tax evasion increases. Tax havens multiply. Political parties realign. Military volunteerism bottoms out. Third parties experience surge in popularity. Tribal nepotism and corruption in every facet of life erodes trust, bankrupts communities, endangers citizens, and reduces standard of living and other measures of personal happiness. Mental illness and symptoms of psychological distress increase. Private militias, high- and low-tech security systems and fortress communities sever the last strands of national unity. Break-up is inevitable barring repatriation of immigrants, anti-dysgenic fertility policies, and social and economic protection of native middle classes.

America currently sits its rehydrated, pureed ass at DIVCON 2. And as any good economics PhD will tell you, this is good news. So bend over and take it like you like it. Those PhD models of human nature can’t be wrong.

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The Wreck of the Beta Male Cuckold, sung to the tune of:

The legend lives on from the Left Coast on down
of the beta they called “Cuckold Freddie.”
The cuck, it is said, sits alone near the bed
when the thighs of his wife spread to darkies.
With a load of mandingo twenty inches more flaccid
than the Beta Male Cuckold at full chubby,
that goon man and true worked his bone black and blue
when his wife and her lover slapped uglies.

The cuck was the pride of the 4channer side
coming back from some brony convention.
As the big betas go, he was fatter than most
with manboobs and a belly in tension,
concluding some terms with his wife of 12 years
when they agreed to bring in an “acquaintance”.
And later that night when his wife’s gina danced,
could it be the lost tingle they’d been missin’?

The suck in her snatch made a tattle-tale sound
and a tremor broke over her vulva.
And ev’ry man knew, as Freddie did too
’twas the twitch of desire come on her.
The dusk came late and his wife couldn’t wait
for the big dicked intruder to come over.
When all three were there he called himself “Bear”
as his wife pressed her hand in his crotch bulge.

When sexytime came the sad cuck came to bed sayin’
“Fellas, I’d like to now join ya.”
But in his wife’s eyes he saw his demise,
And she snapped, “Go wait in the kitchen!”
The cuckold bemoaned he heard sex noise comin’ in
through the walls two rooms wide clear as ever.
And later that night as his wife screamed delight
came the wreck of the Beta Male Cuckold.

Does anyone know where a proud atheist goes
when his wife’s moans turn the minutes to hours?
The cisgenders say he’d have kept his wife tame
if he hadn’t leased her out like a street whore.
They might have split up or they might have hate fucked;
but at least Freddie’s shame would be no more.
But all Freddie hears through his hot beta tears
is, “put a gag in his mouth so he won’t direct”.

Cuckold suffering tolls, Hypergamy sings
in the rooms of Freddie’s Mountain Dew mansion.
Bear’s black mamba creams in his wife’s wet vajeen;
Her asshole and mouth are for Bear’s fun.
And farther below, Freddie’s marital ho
takes in what Bear’s privilege can send her,
And Freddie will know as all swinging alphas know
it’s two women-one man not the inverse.

In a musty old hovel in a basement he prayed,
in the “Beta Male Cuckolds’ Cathedral.”
The blade shimmered twice as he sliced quick lengthwise
for the dignity that Freddie surrendered.
The legend lives on from the Left Coast on down
of the beta they call “Cuckold Freddie.”
“A sperm puddle,” they said, “dripped from his wife’s cleft
and ’twas that ended Freddie’s life early!”

***

A tip o’ the fedora to these plucky gents for digging up the pastiche of true stories this song is based on.

The original:

ps yeah, i know this is closer to omega male territory, but poetic license demanded the use of beta.

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When did the pussification of America’s men begin? Speculating on this sort of thing is always fun, but it serves a larger purpose: If we can identify the origin of the Ascended Testes Era, we can theoretically reverse it.

One reader believes he has an answer,

I was just thinking back to my early 20s, when I found myself married to the dumpy chick I knocked up.  [ed: pre-game, natch] I did what was expected of me at the time, which meant marriage, and it meant Lamaze classes, and La Leche League, and all this girlie baby nurturing liberal SWPL crap I’m sure pajama boy would totally embrace in his plaid onesie.

There was only one other father in the Lamaze classes.  All the pretty girls were there with a friend or a neighbor or a mother, and the only two fathers there were with dumpy average looking chicks.  The other guy was such a wuss he kept passing out during the videos, and his wife had to revive him repeatedly.  (They eventually had like six kids, and are still together as far as I know.)

Yeah, beta males may have slightly more kids on average than do alpha males, but would you want to be a beta? (Procreation Pusher: “wouldn’t you like to be a beta too… be a beta, doooon’t be a playa…) No, I think I’ll skip out on the incomparable joy of loading up the belly of a frump.

I’ve been reflecting on the whole Lamaze thing, and how hot girls don’t have babies with guys who would go through that kind of crap in the first place.  Can you see Mystery in Lamaze classes?  I can’t.

Where was Tywin Lannister when his kids were being born?  The same place my father was, and my grandfather, and every man back for thousands of years.  Smoking cigarettes and letting the women handle woman’s work.

I blame Lamaze for the pussification of America.  It all starts with dads going “hee hee hee hooooooo” with their dumpy wives.  It really does.

Besides, blood, shit, and gore belong on the battlefield, not in the vagina you’re fucking.  No man should ever have to see that.  History had this right.

Lamaze was invented by a French fop in the 1940s, and gained cultural traction in the US a decade later. In the annals of herstory, I’m sure a few alpha males were hornswoggled into attending a Lamaze class (which they undoubtedly instantly regretted), but those men who agreed to attend without a fight or, worse, who happily jumped at the opportunity, are truly the most beta of betas.

No man worth his two taters will enjoy any aspect of the Lamaze spectacle. I bet a man’s T level drops 300% as soon as he steps foot in a Lamaze classroom. And given that betas are already short a couple liters of T, they can’t afford to have their precious reserves siphoned off by the sight of distended bellies, pork roll camel toes, and red-faced plumpers method acting the passing of a gargantuan turd.

So, yeah, there is obviously some selection bias going on with regard to the types of men who can be found empathy birthing in a Lamaze class. More telling is what this reader noticed about the hotness of the pregnant women who weren’t with their men. What he observed was a female selection bias that complemented and reinforced the male selection bias: Hot babes have more choice in men, and they invariably choose high value alpha males who are the least likely to sit through an insufferable Lavaje class. These alphas could be captains of industry with no time for Lamaze silliness, or they could be dominant personalities who won the test of wills contest. Either way, it shows that hot women — women who have, after all, an incredible array of sexual market options — will choose insensitive sociopaths before new age sensitive empaths.

Lamaze was probably not a cause of the emasculation of American men, but it was a harbinger. All those betas lining up to hee hee ho with their women were castrates in a coal mine. A mere fifty years later, we have Youtube videos of bronies coming out with their stuffed animal lovers.

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