Sedition Is The Highest Form Of Dissent

What is it with left wingers and their sick compulsion to denigrate everything that is good about their countries? I’d hate to think it’s something as banal as snooty status jockeying to distance themselves from the lesser patriotic proles, but that’s probably it.

Hey, Clegg, while you’re feeling bad for the Nazis maybe you could spare a moment to feel bad for the London subway bombers? There’s a good chap.

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Heady Pettiness

I was with a girl shopping for assorted consumerist baubles. Technically, she was shopping and I was providing color commentary. A man must learn to amuse himself to pull through these dreaded moments. In the middle of a well-delivered quip, I noticed from the most distant corner of my eye a familiar jeans-covered ass. I studied the ass for a bit and the flow of hair down the back and realized it was one of my exes. She turned around and confirmed for me it was her.

She didn’t see me. I watched her for a bit. The three years were not kind to her. Her body was still great but her face looked drawn, eyes sad, and was that an incipient turkey gullet? When I dated her she was a solid 8, and sexy as hell. Now? A 7. Barely. In just three years she dropped a full point. I wondered if she had gone through an emotionally draining divorce in the time since I’d known her. She was at the store alone on a day in which most women are shopping with their partners.

My time spent with her had been good. I held no ill will toward her. We departed not as exes, but as former lovers, blessedly free of bitterness or rancor. And yet, when I saw my ex there in the store, and mentally noted that the girl I was with was better looking than her, a sadistic urge to flaunt my latest lover and parade her past my ex like a trophy float overcame me. I maneuvered myself and my female company into visual range of my ex. I refrained from looking over. I wanted the bump in to feel natural. (Had my lover been less attractive than my ex, I would’ve hid behind the clothes racks and rushed us out of the store.)

As I maneuvered closer to my ex through the aisles of clothes and kitchenware, I placed my hands lovingly on various erogenous zones of my companion’s body. All while pretending not to notice my ex. I slid my hand down my lover’s back, played with her hair, and made sure to tell a joke so that she giggled girlishly within earshot of my ex. Unfortunately, my ex didn’t notice. Either she was captivated by the 40% sale on hand towels, or she was expertly avoiding acknowledging my presence. I doubted the latter, because usually even the best actresses cannot hold it together with zen-like calm and serenity when bumping into an ex who left such an indelible impression on them. They give away their true feelings with a nearly imperceptible quiver in the shoulders, or a nervous dart of the eyes.

Had she forgotten me? Not possible. We dated too many months, and I… did things… with her that assured a memorial to me would forever be etched in her brain, like a Vietnam Lovers Memorial of sex acts. Or maybe she didn’t recognize me? I *was* wearing a hat, crisply turned down along the front brim.

Nevertheless, no matter how much I maneuvered, I couldn’t needle my ex with my profound pettiness. She remained steadfastly unaware of my presence, flitting about the store like a hummingbird. What a wasted opportunity for a deliciously ego-massaging bump in.

I told my girl about my ex being alone in the store, and how I was trying to get the ex to see us. I also told her she was hotter than my ex. Instead of chastising me for my immaturity, her eyes lit up with conspiratorial glee and she offered a strategy.

“Ooh, I’m curious. Which one is she? Let’s walk by her and I’ll stick my ass out for you to smack. Yay!”

God bless women. Just when you are about to resign yourself to the thought that they are made of nothing but sugar and spice and everything nice, you are reminded of the arsenic laced within.

We left the store mission unaccomplished. I pondered for a second why I relished the thought of rubbing my happiness in the face of a sad, possibly single ex for whom I had nothing but warm feelings. I had released the id monster from its hindbrain depths, and danced a little jig with it.

I guess it just feels too good. And I’ve no doubt she would’ve done the same had the shoe been on the other foot. Any woman would’ve done the same. But don’t bother asking them. They’ll deny deny deny. They’ve got an image to burnish, you see.

Note: As with many of my posts, the chronology of this post has been altered to protect the innocent. Namely, me.

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It May Be Better To Game In Small Groups

Randall Parker forwarded me a link to a study about abundance of mate choice affecting the quality of the choice.

Quantity may determine quality when choosing romantic partners

The context in which humans meet potential mates has a hidden influence on who they decide to pursue. In particular, when people have a large number of potential dating partners to select among, they respond by paying attention to different types of characteristics – discarding attributes such as education, smoking status, and occupation in favor of physical characteristics such as height and weight.

A number of studies in recent years have looked at what happens to humans when faced with extensive choice – too many kinds of chocolate, or too many detergents to choose from at the grocery store. Under such circumstances, consumer psychologists believe that the brain may become “overwhelmed,” potentially leading to poorer quality choice or choice deferral. Psychological scientist Alison Lenton, of the University of Edinburgh, and economist Marco Francesconi, of the University of Essex, wanted to know if the same was true of mate choice, given that humans have been practicing this particular choice for millennia. “Is having too many mate options really like having too many jams?” they ask. The study is published in Psychological Science, a journal of the Association for Psychological Science.

To find out how people respond to relatively limited versus extensive mate choice, Lenton and Francesconi analyzed data from 84 speed dating events, which is where people meet with a series of potential dates for three minutes each. Afterward, the men and women report their choices (a “yes” or “no” for each person). It should surprise no one that choosers generally preferred people who were taller, younger, and well-educated. Women also preferred partners who weren’t too skinny, and men preferred women who weren’t overweight. Beyond that, though, the attributes that speed daters paid attention to depended on how many opposite-sex speed daters attended the event.

At bigger speed dating events, with 24 or more dates, both male and female choosers were more likely to decide based on attributes that could be judged quickly, such as their dates’ height, and whether they were underweight, normal weight, or overweight. At smaller events, choosers were more likely to make decisions based on attributes that take longer to identify and evaluate, such as their dates’ level of education, their type of job, and whether or not the person smokes.

“Obviously, I think we look for different attributes in partners than what we look for in a chocolate, a jam or a 401(k) plan,” says Lenton. “But one of the points we’re trying to make in this article is it’s the same brain we’re carrying around. There are constraints on what our brains can do – they’re quite powerful, but they can’t pay attention to everything at once.” And if the brain is faced with abundant choice, even about who to go out with, it may make decisions based on what it can evaluate most quickly. As a result, this previously invisible aspect of the choice environment has the potential to determine one’s romantic fate.

The consumerists’ quandary. I’m surprised this phenomenon hasn’t been discussed more by game instructors. It would seem logical that the number of girls as well as the number of men in a pickup environment would have an effect on how we choose mates and how we ourselves are perceived as mates. How many times have you stood in front of a huge aisle displaying 62 varieties of vitamins and just said “fuck it” and grabbed the cheapest, or the nearest, brand? If “choice deferral” or choice constriction happens with vitamin brands, then it could conceivably happen with girl brands.

So what are the take-home points from this study? What should we men, always on the lookout for a quicker route to getting laid and loved, learn from the study’s conclusions?

1. In groups that have a lot of men, (for example, clubs and bars on busy nights), women will evaluate your mate potential on “superficial” (i.e. readily discernible) qualities like height and looks.
2. A corollary to number 1 is that in venues where there is a lot of male competition for the women to choose among, and you are average or below in superficial traits, you will not get many chances to run game on the girls.
3. In groups of few people, (for example, book clubs or painting classes), women will evaluate your potential as a partner on more “meaningful” qualities that can only be discovered during the course of lengthier conversations.
4. A corollary to number 3 is that women will be more likely to grant an average looking man an audition at an event that has few other men from which the women can choose. She will also want to know more about each man she joins in conversation.

If you imagine each woman has a tingle-o-meter that oscillates with varying strength to the proportion of male attractiveness traits present in a man she is talking with, and that also oscillates according to the number of other men in her visual field, then you can visualize how a typical woman will react to you in different environments. If you are great looking and tall, you will get a lot of insta-play from women where large numbers of other men are present. She will be choosing you almost entirely based on your easily perceived high value traits, and will likely be more forgiving of any shortfalls you may have in the less visually oriented suite of male attractiveness traits. So if you’re a broke, uneducated, Johnny Depp lookalike, you’ll want to make nightclubs your venue of choice, and you’ll want to close the deal sooner rather than later, before she has an inclination to dig deeper into your value as a man.

If you are not great looking or tall, then you’ll want to steer clear of venues where there will be a lot of men. You will do best in smaller groups with few men, let’s say bars on a weeknight, where the women will be open to learning more about you, and also likelier to overlook any physical shortcomings you may have. She will be choosing you based on a mixed package of easily perceived physical traits and less obvious high value male traits such as dominance, physical assuredness, humor, and charm/game. So if you have tight game but lack the looks to easily acquire auditions to demonstrate your game, you’ll want to focus on environments with few other men around, like day game or really any venue on a night besides Friday or Saturday night.

Since by definition most men are not in the top 10% of looks and height, it stands to reason that pickup instructors should not be teaching game to newbies in high energy environments like nightclubs. The best place to practice game is any place where a bunch of superficially high value men will not show up to distract the girl.

Some other conclusions we can draw from the study:

• This “choice abundance mentality” by women can be artificially triggered. If you have a lot of guy friends who are worse looking than you, then bring your posse to the local club. Faced with all those men to choose from, the women will naturally gravitate to you as the most superficially appealing man of the group.
• Addendum to the above: your friends can’t be *too* dorky, because then the women will tar you with the same dork brush.
• Also, if one of your less good looking friends has better game than you, and the environment you are in is sufficiently low key that he can run his game undistracted, then he may steal the girls’ attention from you. Good looks on a man are great, but good game is even better.
• If you are very good looking but a so-so conversationalist, you will want to stay away from things like book clubs, where the homelier men with sharp wits will absolutely crush you. I’ve seen it happen. Score one for the smooth talking Voltaires.
• If you are very good looking but have no game, suit up and hit da clubs on a busy night where women can instantly compare your looks to a ton of other men. Physical presence game is all you’ll need. Try to get used to one night stands.
• Homelier men should focus on gaming one or two girls in a night. They need more time to allow their heart light to shine. Theirs is a big stage with lots of props and a multitude of scenes to tell the story. Homelier men must be better at building connections with women, because a strong emotional connection will handily compensate for a weak physical magnetism.
• Good looking men should maximize the number of girls they hit on in a night. They don’t need a lot of time to attract attention. Theirs is a small stage featuring a one-act play and a very large audience all vying to get his autograph after the show. By maximizing the number of targets and compressing time spent with each target into a few minutes, they maximize their chance for a same night lay.
• If you have a sucky job and few ostentatious credentials to wave around, but your game is tight, you’ll want to hit on girls in large venues. The girls will be less likely to grill you on your educational and career background, and more likely to enjoy the spontaneous feelings you evoke in them. In other words, choice abundance means that girls are going to be too distracted to bother figuring out your life story. A confused girl is an easily gamed girl.
• If you have a great job, money, and conventional cred, but your game is weak, you’ll want to hit on girls on slow nights in smaller venues, or day game and insta-date them. Maximize your strengths and minimize your weaknesses. A calm, focused girl is a future time oriented girl who will judge on substance more than flash. (Note: sluts excluded.)
• Where there are a lot of men, you can create the illusion of male scarcity (and thus increase your odds of successfully gaming a girl) by walking away from girls early in a conversation. Always end conversations first, seem needlessly distracted, and make it seem like you are a man who has options, even if technically in a bar with more men than women, you don’t.
• If you are looking for a wife or girlfriend, you may want to shift your base of operations to smaller venues or events where you will be less tempted by choice abundance to invest time gaming the flashiest chicks whose key attribute is how good to go they are.

Apropos the study, only go to speed dating events where the women rotate. You will seem in higher demand than you really are.

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Apple iPhone 4G Leak

I’m just gonna throw this out there, reader beware. I know a person with ties to Apple who thinks the leak was probably intentional. Supposedly, it’s unheard of for a top secret prototype technology to leave campus grounds for any reason. So this person doesn’t believe the story that a programmer got drunk at a bar and accidentally left the phone there. Apple sometimes engages in low risk, cost free focus group testing by leaking a model to the geeky internet hordes — in this case Gizmodo via Gawker — to see what could use improvement. Based on the timing of this leak, I was told to expect a 4G release sometime in mid July.

Personally, I’m looking forward to the release of the HTC EVO. True 4G. True dat.

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Even Blind Men Prefer The Optimal 0.7 Waist-To-Hip Ratio

Another scientific experiment demonstrates that beauty is not in the eye of the beholder. Or, in this case, not even in the blind eye of the beholder. Fat feminists weep bitter tears. Naomi Wolf tosses her useless credentials in the garbage. Beauty is, as I’ve been saying since day 1 on this blog, universal and objective. Men pretty much desire the same shape and weight of women around the world.

The NY0.98WHRTimes has an article about a Dutch psychologist who drove around the country in a van with two female mannequins with adjustable waist to hip ratios. (Hat tip: Cannon’s Canon.) He stopped at the residences of blind men and had them fondle the mannequins with their hands (no walking sticks allowed).

The headless mannequins, which Karremans bought, he told me recently, “on the Dutch version of Craigslist,” have adjustable waists and hips, and the researchers set each body differently, so that one had a waist-to-hip ratio of 0.7 and the other of 0.84. Based on a range of studies of male preferences done by other scientists, Karremans chose the lower ratio as an ideal, a slim yet curvy paragon, at least among Western populations. The higher ratio, by contrast, doesn’t represent obesity, just a fullness that falls close to the average woman’s shape.

The study involved men who had been sightless from birth. The idea was that the bombardment of visual media — of models on billboards and actresses on television and porn stars online — which may be so powerful and even dominant in molding desire, couldn’t have had any direct effect on these men, who emerged from the womb into a congenital dark. Would their tastes in women’s bodies match those of men who could see? How would their preferences reflect on the roles of nature and nurture, on the influence of evolution and the impact of experience, in forming our psyches?

[…] Karremans sent his mannequins around the Netherlands. The blind stood before them; they were told to touch the women, to focus their hands on the waists and hips. The breasts on both figures were the same, in case the men reached too high. The men extended their arms; they ran their hands over the region. Then they scored the attractiveness of the bodies. Karremans had a hunch, he told me, that their ratings wouldn’t match those of the sighted men he used as controls, half of them blindfolded so that they, too, would be judging by feel. It seemed likely, he said, that visual culture would play an overwhelming part in creating the outlines of lust. And though the blind had almost surely grown up hearing attractiveness described, perhaps even in terms of hourglass shapes, it was improbable, he writes in his forthcoming journal paper, that they had heard descriptions amounting to, “The more hourglass shaped, the more attractive,” which would be necessary to favor the curvier mannequin over the figure that was only somewhat less so.

[…] But, with some statistically insignificant variation, the scores of the blind matched those of the sighted. Both groups preferred the more pronounced sweep from waist to hip. One possible explanation emphasizes the sense of smell — though the mannequins wore no perfume. By this line of thinking, certain ratios of hormones and their metabolites in the female body are associated with biological advantage, as well as with particular pheromonal scents and low W.H.R.’s. The male begins life wired, through the influence of evolution, to favor these odors and then learns, mostly through unconscious experience, to connect the cues of smell to the proportions of waist and hip. He makes this connection through sight if he can see and by touch if he can’t.

The case against the “beauty is subjective and therefore perception of it by randy men is malleable; so rejoice!, hope remains that fat feminist craps and aging broads can find love just as easily as hot, slender 21 year old babes” just gets stronger with each experiment. But I’m sure the pretty lie platoon will find a way to dismiss this study. Maybe they’ll accuse men blind since birth of being influenced by patriarchal norms in Braille.

The author of the article throws the obligatory bone to the femdork crowd, but it’s a weak, brittle bone indeed:

The explanation may be more elusive than this simple logic. And the study’s implications about nature and nurture are far from straightforward. Karremans’s findings don’t rule out the sway of culture, not at all. If experience played no role in etching our preferences, there would be scarcely any diversity of lust; we would all be drawn to the same forms.

False inference. There could certainly continue to be “diversity of lust” without experience playing any role. For instance, people may be genetically primed from birth to appreciate better the beauty of others of their own race. Or there may be a hardwired preference for hair color. If the last twenty years of psychosocial research shows us anything, it’s that you’d be on firmer ground biasing hypotheses in favor of the genetic cause of behavior instead of the cultural conditioning cause.

One nuance in the study’s data points to this complexity: sighted and blind men both strongly favored the mannequin with the lower W.H.R., but this slimmer-waisted body received especially high scores from the men with sight, maybe because a life spent amid cultural signals compounds the work of evolution. Still, the gropings of Karremans’s blind offer a glimpse into the ancestral depths of our desires.

Or it could be that touching an optimal 0.7 WHR woman combined with seeing a 0.7 WHR woman produces a positive feedback loop that jacks up the “OMG I’m so horny!” limbic system reflex in men. I like banging in the dark, but when the lights are on and I can see the pussy lips parting in response to my meaty intrusion, the pleasure is magnified. If I was handed a checklist during sex, I’d score my lover higher while under the visual influence of glistening, crimson labia.

It’s really amazing when you stop to think about it that blind men who have never once in their lives seen a female body still rate as most attractive the same 0.7 WHR female body type as do normally sighted men. The inborn biological basis of sexual desire is so fundamental — so resistant to cultural influence — that every sense is brought into play in ensuring that men make the right choice for the propagation of their genes; which, in nearly all cases, is going to result in men choosing the same slender babe archetype when such a choice is possible, no matter where in the world a man lives or how many times his mom embarrassed him in front of his friends when he was a teenager. I’ve no doubt that a blind and deaf man who has lost his hands will compensate with a bloodhound’s nose for sniffing out a 0.7 WHR from twelve parsecs.

This blog post brought to you by Tick Tock, Inc., in collaboration with generous funding from the What Part Of No Fat Chicks Don’t You Understand Foundation.

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The State + Women = Boot Stamping On A Beta Face

Welmer over at The Spearhead put up a short post with accompanying video illustrating in very graphic terms (the best kind of terms) what happens when you couple the feminism-abetted cultural perception of women as vulnerable creatures with women’s opportunistic leveraging of that favorable perception, and reinforce the resulting bitches’ brew with the sledgehammer of the state. The video Welmer helpfully embedded is one of the better metaphors of the informal alliance between runaway state power and the victimization industrial complex that gives the benefit of the doubt in nearly all cases to designated aggrieved groups. What could more aptly clarify this female-PC apparatchik-state alliance than a video of cops planting evidence on a bungling loser as they hogtie him while the appreciative ex-wife oversees the proceedings nearby?

Now no doubt whenever you hear of domestic-related arrests of shady characters like Carlos Ferrel (wanted on a domestic assault warrant unrelated to the action in the video), nine times out of ten the dude is a hellraiser guilty of something. But that doesn’t give the cops the right to abuse the public’s partiality toward them by planting evidence on an unsavory suspect. It starts with a wink and a nod, (almost literally in this video, as the cop doing the planting looks like he smiles at the camera before stuffing Ferrel’s pocket with pot), and ends with a boot and a smashed face. Possibly one day yours.

Nor should our partiality toward the law influence our sympathies so that we always kneejerk align with the supposedly victimized woman. Remember, ten times out of ten in a domestic fracas, the ex-wife or ex-girlfriend chose the asshole perp to be her lover. These women know what they’re getting into. And when they no longer find their badboys useful, they’ll scream victimization, true or not. And the fuzzy-brained white knighters will stampede on cue, their sad, floppy dicks held betwixt index finger and thumb, smooshed into mini-mouthed frowns, pleading for crumbs of pussy gratitude.

You think the ex-wife, when she discovers after watching this video that her ex-husband was railroaded by the cops, will rise up of her own will in his defense? Maybe if he slapped her around a little…

When the state teams up with women, it is game over for the common man. There’s only one way to win at this rigged game…

Don’t play it.

Earthdate: 04.18.2010
Sex life: euphoric
Love life: transcendent
Mood: self-satisfied
Status: still unmarried

PS Isn’t it long overdue that pot should be legal? Just make it illegal for under 21s to buy it like we do with alcohol, throw in a few government sponsored ad campaigns warning against the dangers of toking and driving, and let the adults have some fucking kick back time with a relatively harmless drug. I’ll bet any present or future drug czar good money that ten years after pot is legalized there will continue to be the same proportion of alcohol and cigarette related deaths to pot related deaths as there are today. Personally, I’d legalize crack and meth, too, then eradicate the welfare safety net and let the hardcore addicts and their drug addled spawn die mutated in the streets. In a couple of generations you’d have a healthier, stronger society. Sure, the interim would be a ghastly horror, but it’s not like you really give a shit now. Why aren’t you giving a shit now?

Rhetorical.

PPS Television and its visual communications offshoots have been the greatest anti-eugenic force in human history. Discuss.

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Great Scenes Of Game In The Movies

In the last ‘Great Scenes’ post, we watched Cary Grant big facing Katharine Hepburn until she almost passed out from arousal. This time, we take a look at how deftly Walter Neff (Fred MacMurray) handles Phyllis Dietrichson’s (Barbara Stanwyck) shit tests (and in the process practically invents film noir).

Phyllis (0:02): My husband! You were anxious to talk to him, weren’t you?

Walter (0:05): Yeah I was, but ah, I’m sort of getting over the idea if you know what I mean.

First shit test passed. She expected him to buckle when she introduced a competitive male threat, as most females are wont to do. (‘Let’s you and him fight’ is a convenient ploy used by women to separate the alpha wheat from the beta chaff.)

Phyllis (0:10): There’s a speed limit in this state, Mr. Neff. 45 miles an hour.

Walter (0:13): How fast was I going officer?

Pitch perfect. Role playing is catnip to chicks. If you only remember one rule of game, it’s this: Never take her seriously.

Phyllis (0:15): I’d say around 90.

It’s ironic that back in the day when overt sex talk was more culturally censored than it is today, a flirty conversation between a man and woman could contain so much more sexual tension.

Walter (0:17): Suppose you get down off your motorcycle and give me a ticket.

Great working definition of an alpha male: He is the one who has an answer for everything. Also note the subtle de-pedestalization in this line.

Phyllis (0:19): Suppose I let you off with a warning this time.

Walter (0:21): Suppose it doesn’t take.

Notice how Walter is increasing the voltage of his replies. When volleying a swarm of shit tests, you’ll want to get progressively edgier (*not* angrier), following the beat of your prey’s seductive syncopation. Imagine a woman slowly withering under your powerful presence, your magnetic pull getting stronger with each quip, until you deliver the ego killing blow like a Final Fantasy finishing move.

Phyllis (0:23): Suppose I have to whack you over the knuckles.

This chick is unstoppable.

Walter (0:26): Suppose I bust out crying and put my head on your shoulder.

Vulnerability game from a position of strength. Sarcastic bravos!

Phyllis (0:29): Suppose you try putting it on my husband’s shoulder.

“I have a boyfriend”. One thing you’ll notice after you get a lot of experience with women is that they often turn nastiest right before they succumb. It’s as if with one foul push of cuntery they can silence the screaming of the tingles.

Walter (0:32): That tears it.

A beta, once he gets in a groove with a woman, is likely to spin that tune until it’s worn-out. An alpha knows when to cut the action. And when he’s beaten, he doesn’t sulk. Watch Walter as he turns away from Phyllis with a grin on his face. He knows he got to her.

Walter (0:38): Eight-thirty tomorrow evening then.

A question posed as a statement. Commanding.

Phyllis (0:40): That’s what I suggested.

Walter (0:41): You be here too?

Phyllis (0:42): I guess so, I usually am.

Walter (0:44): Same chair, same perfume, same anklet?

The game never stops playing, even when she does. Every word, every glance, every interaction is an opportunity for game. Noticing tiny details of a woman besides her physical features (e.g., anklet) is a powerful tool in the alpha’s arsenal. Translated into womanese, it means “I could notice every detail of your 152 erogenous zones”.

Phyllis (0:46): I wonder if I know what you mean.

Walter (0:49): I wonder if you wonder.

Donned hat, smirk, staredown. This is a man who’s letting her know she didn’t rattle him. Just the opposite, in fact.

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