Grope-rah

Shitlibs are working themselves into another anal lube froth, this time over the prospect of Oprah running for president in 2020. A negression to the mean ousting orange hitler? Collective lib splooge!

So this is a good time to keep reminding them that Grope-rah was an enabler of Harvey Swinestein’s pervtastic predations. Groprah was in the thick of it, running interference for Harvey, and probably grooming young actresses for him with promises of access and fame. She may as well have been holding harvey’s dick over the potted ficus.

Every time shitlibs catch a whiff of a heroine coming to save them from Trump’s Reich, it turns out she’s as tits-deep in depravity and mendacity as the rest of their icons. The Fuggernaut will never have an ally or an hero who isn’t compromised by association with their ugliness.

Peak Hug

From the #MeTooPlease vault:

In wake of Matt Lauer’s firing, NBC reportedly cracks down on hugging, asks employees to tell on each other

[…]

The source also informed Page Six that “staffers have been told that if they find out about any affairs, romances, inappropriate relationships or behavior in the office, they have to report it to human resources, their superior or the company anti-harassment phone line.”

Since when did consensual office romances become sexual harassment? Oh yeah, since bitter aging has-been whores deemed it so.

Imagine the type of person who’d be willing and eager to snitch on a co-worker having an office romance. The caricature that comes to mind is a giant, walking pussyhat. Nasty Womanhood, Inc. The anti-sex schoolmarms are on the loose.

The mass movement of women into the workforce and its consequences have been a disaster for Western nations.

To take it to the next level, the source further claimed NBC’s new rules stipulate employees wishing to hug one another “have to do a quick hug, then an immediate release, and step away to avoid body contact” and are forbidden from sharing taxis home or, oddly, “taking vegans to steakhouses.”

We need a new word to describe the hysterically man-hating, anhedonic feminist dystopia that’s unfolding at a rapid clip in America. Gynarchy doesn’t quite nail it. Prisstopia?

This would all be stupidly funny if it wasn’t dead serious, but tbh i’m not a fan of the hugging trend. Compulsory hugs between acquaintances phags up male friendships and desexualizes potential romances between men and women. Thanks, Shrillennials! But I think we’ve hit Peak Hug. Gen Zyklon is bringing back head nods, and with them, a return to electric sexual polarity.

It’s Time To Mock Credentialism As Foolish And Womanly

Credentialism is inherently shallow and effeminate, which is why college is now 60% female and the other 40% are uptalking soyboys who can only approach asian girls after pinky-sipping a flight of craft beers.

Culture messages have a big part in changing public attitudes, which changes social policy. Mocking the credentialist suckup diddle-jerk will help realign public perception toward a healthy skepticism and disdain of left-wing, post-America, anti-White academia, and drain their coffers while preventing fertilely fruiting women from getting pulled into the anti-natal vortex of degree whoring. More crucially, it will spiritually enliven our men who have been propagandized to view any life course not winding through a 4-year (now 6-year) college indoctrination struggle session as failure, and bring a renewed esteem to the technical crafts that are men’s forte.

A Trump trade policy reinvigorating manufacturing in the US will go a long way to diminishing the malevolent power of the leftoid academia menopausal complex.

The Two Stages Of Female Treachery

It has been fairly well-researched that women aren’t as committed to tribal loyalty as are their men. Men are defenders of their property; women are defenders of the social consensus. But there is a short window when, under threat from invaders or subversives, women will fight the usurpation of their men and their way of life. Via Brabantian,

[Anatoly Karlin] above links to Vincent Law’s article on this topic, and it’s worth sharing VL’s view in more detail, explaining the paradox of why Russian women are still nationalist but Western women are ‘refugees welcome’

VL reasonably posits that in female attitudes regarding foreign migrant invasion, there are

two parts – the early stage and the later stage

when a threat emerges, and the barbarians come to the gates, women do not just [immediately] run into the arms of the invaders

Initially, it is the women that will spur the men of their own tribe to fight to defend them. And that is what I believe is happening in Russia. The young Russian women feel the hot breath of the hostile tribe on their necks … so they spur the men to defend them.

Only after women sniff the air and see which way the wind is blowing, and when the situation becomes dire [i.e., the men are cucked and not fighting and defending] do they [the women] start hedging their bets, or engaging in open treachery to their own tribe. This is arguably the state of Scandinavia and much of the Anglo-Sphere as things stand now.

But beyond the Hajnal line, there’s still some fight left

Western women have spurred their men to fight, and they have shit tested them to gauge their willingness to fight…..but in the end, having found their men wanting, they threw in with the colonizing dirt world hordes, because if overrun by barbarians doesn’t mean their deaths (like it does for the men of the defeated tribe), they’re not going to risk their lives stopping the barbarians. They will instead spread their legs for the victorious alphas and be happy assuming the mothering position and helping form and police the new consensus once the dust and blood has settled.

Interesting theory, but have Western women ever, in significant numbers, spurred their men to fight against third world immigration and depredations? It seems like our women went straight from civilizational bliss to Globohomo shit testing and welcoming refugees, without so much as a moment spared for the thought of how their radical antiracism virtue preening would affect the well-being of their own men.

If the inheritor of the White races is Russia, I suppose that’s not all bad. At least the women will be slim and hot.

The Pumpkin Theory Of Female Choosiness

Happy fresh pumpkin is deluded about its shelf life.

Sad rotting pumpkin is deluded about its freedom of choice.

Corrective: A Great Patriarchal Pumpkin rising from the pumpkin thatch.

Money And Chicks, The Executive Summary

Anonymous comments,

CH is fond of saying that $$$ has poor return in terms of women. I suspect you need real wealth (>$10 M) and live a truly different lifestyle (weekend trips to st Barths, aspen, other global hotspots) in order for it to make any real difference.

Below the level of extravagant male wealth, money doesn’t make a huge DIRECT impact on women’s attraction to men. If a man has a nice car and condo, no economically self-sufficient careergirl will be wowed by that. The benefit of money comes from the confidence it instills in men, which women DO love.

Another anon has doubts about the efficacy of money to pull women,

I feel like a distinction should be made about “high-status men” in what context. My experience says that now “high-status” is almost completely determined by “hookup criteria” and not long-term considerations until chick hits the wall (but preaching to the choir).

If modren Western women are indeed switching to an r-selected reproduction strategy — i.e., focusing on short-term hookups that advantage cads over dads and chads over NOWAGS — then a man’s earning power will have a smaller impact on female attraction than it historically has had in more patriarchal (aka Regulated Monogamy) times when women weren’t paper pushing corporate whores who could afford their own mortgages and streaming pussyhat entertainment packages.

Of course, this will not end well for civilization. When the big bulging mass of beta providers realize they can’t leverage their provisions for a loyal young babe who isn’t saddled with a porn star’s sexual history, they will drop out of the mating market and make just enough to satisfy their immediate needs. Then after the fiat economy collapses from the disengagement of its most competent and conscientious men, there goes the female workforce it enabled, and we’re right back to the primordial patriarchy of young, chaste, dependent women locking down that beta provider while she still has miles of virgin road left on her hodometer.

Is Male Hypergamy Real? (No)

Commenter days of game offered the “normie” objection to female hypergamy that I’ve come across from other readers in previous posts on the topic: specifically, both sexes want the best deal they can get in the mate market, so “hypergamy” isn’t limited to one sex.

I don’t understand the manosphere’s interest in “hypergamy.” It’s the most obvious thing… girls are looking for the best opportunity. That’s not girls… that’s everyone.

And then: Eggs are expensive, sperm are cheap. Got it.

So… girls have more bargaining power, and thus… a lot of guys lose (due to low SMV)… and girls hop around (because they can)… as that egg is in demand (until it isn’t).

Why does this need a billion hours of analysis?

This particular research continues the pattern of underwhelm:

A seller with a high-demand product (her pussy), that can find more and more markets (online)… can charge a higher price, and/or burn more potential buyers (for fun or profit).

Econ 101.

When I see guys that get frothy about MUUHHH HYPERGUUHHHMEH… I increasingly read all that as signals of beta reality/paranoia. And a waste of our time as men to go over this again and again.

The cool guy get the girl. Dur.

For a simple concept, a lot of men (and women) dismiss female hypergamy out of hand as having no basis in reality. And that reality is this: There is no equivalent male hypergamy to female hypergamy. “Everyone is looking for the best possible deal” is a trivially true statement which obfuscates the fact that men and women look for mate market deals with differing intensities of commitment and with differing emphases on what constitutes a good deal. These differences are so profound in both a quantitative and qualitative sense that they may as well be representing totally different mate selection strategies (which they are).

I’ll quote myself here on the subject of “male hypergamy”, before illustrating the Fake Comparison of male and female sexual market bargaining using a car dealership analogy,

Some readers would demur that hypergamy isn’t sex-specific, pointing out that men also strive to find the best possible lover they can get.

My rebuttal is two-part: One, men don’t date up based on social, economic, or occupational status. Men, if and when they are able to date up, do so based almost entirely on women’s looks. We’ve all seen or experienced how men trade up when they’ve come into a financial or social status windfall — younger, hotter, tighter women, as the GBFM would put it. So male hypergamy — what is more precisely termed “physiogamy” — is different in kind from female hypergamy.

Second, male physiogamy is also different in degree from female hypergamy. Women are biologically compelled to aim for a man higher in SMV from themselves, and this compulsion is strong enough that many women will accept long bouts of solitude before settling for a man at their own SMV level (usually at the moment when The Wall first looms on the horizon). When men aim higher, they a. don’t aim quite as high as women aim and b. won’t opt out of the sexual or marital market (like women will often do), if they don’t get everything they want in a lover.

Another point of difference between male and female “dating up” limbic algorithms which I alluded to in that quote but didn’t clarify is this: Male SMV is largely contextual and relational. Social, occupational, financial, and prestige status have to be measured against a backdrop of other men all competing along the same metrics that women use to assess male mate worth. Women only have to look young and pretty, which can be accomplished with or without other women to use for comparison purposes.

This has an impact on how each sex dates up. Men will upgrade to a hotter younger babe after they have spent considerable time improving their SMV, either through amassing resources or social/psychosexual capital (Game). Men’s ability to date up is thus limited by the time and energy commitments required to do so. Men respond to this sex-differentiated mate market reality by de-emphasizing dating “up” and settling for dating “as good as possible for right now”.

In contrast, women have to commit relatively little time and energy to improving their SMV, largely because their mate value is set at conception and there isn’t much they can do to improve upon what they were given by their parents. There’s no point working hard to improve that which has only a tiny margin for improvement (unless we’re talking about a fatty who could slim down and gain 5 SMV points). What this means in practice is that women can spend a lot more time and energy “dating up” while their looks are holding up. Their window for primo action is smaller than it is for men, but within that window they have a lot more leeway to entertain suitors and hold out for the best, even if the best is a cad illusion who offers empty promises of commitment (the age-old risk that women take when they hold out for mr right aka mr beta bux and mr alpha fux in one man). Dating up comes more naturally to women because it comes more easily; as long as they aren’t old fat or ugly, women can leverage their looks almost as an afterthought to attract attention from a lot of men, both low and high SMV.

The analogy of female hypergamy is this:

A man goes to a car dealership. He’s a sensible fellow, and just needs a commuter vehicle. He sees a cherry red Corvette center stage. He salivates. He walks over, runs his hand across the finish. Maybe he asks to sit in it and dream, gripping the leather steering wheel. But he knows he can’t afford it, so he quickly focuses his thoughts and leaves fantasyland behind, to browse the boring sedans. He consoles himself with the hope that maybe, someday, he’ll have made it and can return with enough to buy that Corvette. In the meantime, he haggles like a champ with the seller to drive down the price of his sedan and maximize the amenities at his budget. No undercarriage rust protection, thank you! Finally, he signs on the dotted line, and drives off content that he got the best deal he could, and as he’s heading home he thoughtfully itemizes all the good things about his new car. The smell! The climate control! The gas mileage! He’s happy for himself.

A woman goes to a car dealership. She’s a sensible lady (for a lady), and just needs a commuter vehicle. She sees a cherry red Corvette center stage. She salivates. She walks over, runs her hand across the finish, sits in the car, applies lipstick in the rearview mirror, lays across both front seats in a languid pose, asks to take it for a test drive, motors giddily around town for an hour until the seller has to gently chide her to call it a day, returns and labors some more over the Corvette, sighs heavily as a penny drops out of her purse, shuffles over to the boring sedan and gives it a perfunctory once-over, noting with depressing self-encouragement that it gets 35 mpg on the highway. She haggles with the seller for five grueling hours before announcing she needs more time to think on it. (meanwhile, the seller wonders why she’s shit testing him.) On her way out, she stops by the Corvette again, for one last flirtatious hand graze. Over the next six months, she stops by the dealership weekly to cavort with the Corvette, until her current rust bucket dies in an intersection to a thousand honking cars and sheer embarrassment drags her shamed butt back to the dealer to grudgingly trade in her dead clunker for the boring beta sedan. She resents her new car the second she rolls off the lot in it, and abuses it daily with cigarette butts, spilled coffee, and unchanged oil, until she has to repeat the process, except next time with even less money in her pocket, which forces her to browse the sub-compacts. Oh lord, what will her friends think?! They’ll know she settled because she waited too long. Maybe she can get a bike instead and rationalize it as environmental activism. One night, in a horny and desperate mood, she sneaks into the dealership and fucks the Corvette’s stick shift. She slumps spent, in the love puddle she left in the bucket seat, and whimpers softly for a romance that will never be.

***

I hope that clears things up.