When The Handicap Principle Is Just A Handicap

The Handicap Principle, or what is known in layman terms as conspicuous consumption, is an important biological hypothesis that explains why the males of some (most?) species have evolved costly status signaling displays. The idea is that a high fitness male demonstrates his high status to females by showing he can afford to waste resources on, for example, showy plumage or sport cars. It is objectively better for the male’s survival to not have heavy plumage that could make escape from predators more difficult, or to save money for future contingencies instead of waste it on an expensive car; yet, males of different species will often acquire these presumable maladaptations or waste resources on nonessentials because sexual selection exerts a force equally as powerful as natural selection.

So goes the theory. In reality, the theory bumps up against a wall.

You can’t get much more handicapped that that, unless you were limbless and genital-less with a concave forehead.

People open to the ideas of evolutionary psychology sometimes forget that nature operates within a system of checks and balances just as free markets and republics (putatively) do. The Handicap Principle helps explain some odd evolved male traits in species, but nature is always ensuring that the evolved handicap never gets too far out of control. Because when that happens, it’s no longer a status signal; it’s a real handicap that will repulse women or get you killed.

Game and the Handicap Principle have a rocky relationship. Handicapping yourself — a la Mystery with his furry hats and Victorian coats — is a great way to signal high status, IF you have compensating alpha male traits. Mystery has those compensating traits; specifically, his height, his grace under pressure, and his renowned game ability to handle the inevitable female shit tests and seamlessly escort women through the stages of seduction.

If, on the other hand, you are short, ugly, nerdy, insecure and without any game at all, dressing like Mystery is apt to backfire. Your calculated self-handicapping will not be a signal of confidence and high status, but an actual handicap that makes your job of getting laid harder than it need be. For you, the appropriate level of self-handicapping would be something along the order of uncommon shiny cufflinks or a gaudy ring. Just enough to incite curiosity in women, but not so much to banish yourself to the realm of weirdos.

Maxim #55: The degree to which you handicap yourself in an effort to signal high status to women should be commensurate with your game expertise and your confidence level.

The more confidently you can pull off showy clothes or an asshole attitude, and the more effortlessly you can deflect the shit you will invariably get from others offended by your ostentation, the more the Handicap Principle will work for you instead of against you.

Keep in mind, as well, that Mystery’s fraught couture is a game tactic in itself, designed to provoke reactions from women that allow Mystery to demonstrate his alpha prowess through his unperturbed handling of those reactions. You should welcome shit tests from women, because that means you have aroused interest in them. Mystery’s garish dress is a short cut to coaxing those much-valued shit tests out of women. But you need unshakeable confidence bordering on delusion to successfully pull it off, which, in my observation of fledgling PUAs, most men practicing the dark art of pickup don’t have in sufficient quantity.

For the average man who has leapt above the fray and grasped that important sex differences in psychology exist and thus interactions with women require a different toolkit than conventional wisdom offers, the Handicap Principle will be most relevant to him during the comfort stage of seducing a woman into bed (or into a longer-term relationship). In CH parlance, this is known as “vulnerability game“, and it is vital, in small doses, as a quasi-handicapping game technique for strengthening emotional connections with women.

Signaling that you possess beta provider potential is a powerful bonding glue to women who are at heart creatures of duality seeking the best of both alpha and beta in men. But since alpha is in rarer supply and harder to acquire, and since beta comes naturally to most men and is easier to acquire, the trick to finding the right balance is to emphasize your alpha while leavening it with droppings of beta. These beta droppings are the equivalent of handicapping yourself with costly displays of provider plumage and emotional vulnerability. They will only work when you have already established your attitudinal alpha male seed-cred.

If you haven’t established that alpha seed-cred, your beta droppings will go over like an elephant’s dung heap, because they won’t be droppings so much as “more of the supplicating same”. This is why women love to feel like they have to struggle to get a man to admit his emotional core, and dislike having men dump a bucket of their emotional core all over them. As women perceive it, the struggle is an irrefutable sign that the man is non-needy, has options with other women, and will give her the challenge she subconsciously craves.

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Hookup Men Vs “For-Real” Men

Ah, the knee-slapping never ends when two feminist spinsters on a fast track to wall collision gab about their dating exploits and using men for either fun or profit. Naturally, their window for “using” men in any fashion is rapidly closing in lockstep with the degree of their drooping flesh, so any gchats that conspire bewteen these pitiful specimens often provide hours of voyeuristic entertainment watching what amounts to this:

Is anyone else down for a good, old-fashioned soul flaying? I know I am!

Chatting About Hookups and “For-Real” Dates with Sex Writer Tracy Clark-Flory

By Amanjaw Marcuntte

After reading Tracy Clark-Flory’s Salon piece from Saturday extolling the glories of traditional courtship, I knew I had to talk with her in more depth.

Clark-Flory’s (never trust a woman with a hyphenated name) swan song to her sexy and vital youth is basically an admission against interest that her high flying, alpha cock carouseling 20s are over and now that her sexual market options are dwindling she has to settle for boring dates with beta herbs who promise they will stick around like office fixtures instead of bolt while she’s coming off a multiple orgasm. Naturally, she hamsters this as a paean to the glories of “traditional courtship”. What’s the scientific term for this cognitive function? Oh yeah… making a silk purse out of a sow’s ear.

Tracy, who has been writing about sex and relationships for years, often in defense of the casual hookup, expressed a more nuanced view of the entire situation,

“nuanced” = deluded.

explaining how her increased interest in taking-it-slow, more formalized dating

“increased interest” = panic.

doesn’t, in any way, mean that she thinks that a past of more casual hooking up was the wrong choice.

The odds of divorce for a woman go way up the more partners with whom she has premaritally casually hooked up. Clark-Flory needs to think with more clarity.

Her take really cuts to the heart of what so many pro-sex feminist commentators have been trying to say for years about dating and sex, so I grabbed her on Gchat yesterday to talk more about it.

What follows is a beautiful digital mutual clit diddling wherein two mangy cougars assert they can have their cake and eat it too.

Amanda: I really liked your piece on going on a for-real date.

Tracy: This was literally my first for-real date ever.

What a catch! You know men — or should I say, desirable men with options — just love throwing tons of money and time and sexless dates at has-beens who spent their prime pussy years hooking up for free with men who agreed with them that dates were an unnecessary nuisance.

Tracy: Well, I should be clear: I’ve online dated. I’ve gone on dates. But most often they’re presented super casually. Like, hey, “Let’s hang out.” This was the first time someone clearly said to me: I want to take you out on a date, and here is the plan. Typically, whether it’s with “hang out” dates or hookups, it’s very low-investment—emotionally, financially, you name it.

A man will invest only as much as is required to get in a woman’s pants. Clark was obviously a pump and dump stock in her 20s who’s now trading for pennies but acting like a tech IPO. You know who invests in loser companies? Suckers.

Tracy: Right. I think it’s great that people can get to know each other casually. Grab a burrito and a beer! Make out at the bar! But it’s also nice to not feel totally stuck with diminished romantic expectations—as in, I can’t expect more than a taqueria “hangout” arranged last-minute via text message.

You should have thought of the danger of diminished romantic expectations while you still had the goods to entice worthy buyers. PS Having a history of being a big fat slut is not exactly an advertisement that you’re marriage material.

Amanda: That’s something I’ve noticed that a lot of friends complain about since I’ve moved to NYC: They think a lot of guys are just a little too eager to keep it casual. Which makes me wonder if it’s just that now that I’m in my 30s, my friends are developing higher expectations, or if it’s a geographic thing, where men in Texas, where I used to live, were more serious from the get-go?

No, it’s just that now that your female friends are in their 30s, and looking even more like fuzzy Chinese Crested versions of Samantha, they’re desperate to get hitched before the god of biomechanics cruelly escorts them to spinsterland, where cats compete with noodly beta males for their attention and the men they really want peer around them like they’re annoying houseplants obstructing the view of hotter younger tighter women.

Although it is a refreshing change of pace to see cathedral mascot Amanjaw give redneck Texas men a shout out for their chivalric wooing. I guess SWPL manboobs are finally grinding on her? (Double entendre intended.)

Tracy: I think both are probably very real factors! For me, at least, “hookups” have been a great way of getting to know myself, getting to know other people and getting to know what I want, romantically and sexually.

Hilariously self-serving cliché. How many penises does she have to straddle to get to know herself? Does the penis imbue some sort of special “consciousness raising” enlightenment once it has parted the labia? Should high school guidance counselors tell graduating girls to hop on a cock for career advice? I bet Clark has no trouble, being a member in good standing of the feminist cooperative, explaining to her acolytes that women require penetration by erect penises to discover the strong goddess inside them.

Now, personally, I think that a good rogering does help clear a woman’s head, but I’m not sure feminists would be happy to hear that from me.

But as I’ve gotten older—how I hate that phrase—I’ve wanted a broader spectrum of romantic scripts. And that’s when the hookup/low-commitment default became frustrating.

“broader spectrum” = loosened standards. “romantic scripts” = hiding her slutty compulsions. “hookup/low-commitment default” = couldn’t get a high value guy to stick around. “frustrating” = pumped and dumped.

Amanda: I think that’s what I really liked—your high regard for diversity.

Gabba gabba hey.

It’s not that hookups are bad, you said, but that they seem mandatory.

When all you have is a lack of options, the world looks like a mandate.

Why do you think it got to that point?

Gee, I dunno… age, attitude, obliviousness?

Tracy: I can at least speak to my own experience: I think I gravitated toward casual hookups during a time when I wasn’t quite ready for more serious commitment. I needed some time to play and experiment.

It’s all fun and games until no one wants to play with you anymore.

I think many people feel that way in their 20s.

There’s a reason why, historically, women were encouraged to get married before they hit 30. People used to be wise to the fact that women can easily forget how little time is on their side.

Amanda: That’s something that really was brought home in Hanna Rosin’s Atlantic piece about hooking up. She spoke to researchers that said that women were driving the culture as much as men, in no small part because, frankly, boyfriends can get in the way of other goals like getting your career underway.

Higamous hogamous
man is polygamous
hogamous higamous
woman is oblivious.

Amanda: A lot of people still buy the line that it’s something that men impose on women, that men are taking advantage of women’s, uh, “easiness”.

Well, men won’t exactly look a gift whore in the mouth.

That always bothered me, because there was never really a clear line for me between how quickly you slept with someone and whether or not it turned into wuv.

Here’s a clear line for ya: The hotter you are, the more quickly it will turn into wuv for the man, the other party involved in the interaction.

Amanda: Your point was really satisfying,

“Thank you, I needed that.”
– Ego

which is that what we really need is the ability to diversify: hook up if we want, go slow if we want, just do a bunch of different stuff depending on where we’re at.

Feminists, and women more generally, hate the idea of judgment and of consequences for their actions. They want to slut it up, take it slow, hook up, hang out, drag it out, do the woo, and try a bunch of different stuff without the judgment of men or other women cramping their uteri, and without worrying about the consequences which might ensue as a result of their panoply of choices. This is what is known in the literature as a fantasyland: a wonderful place in the puffy white clouds where human nature doesn’t exist and actions don’t cause reactions, except those reactions that the feminist dearly desires, which desire is subject to change at any given moment depending on the feminist’s whim.

But reality, so ugly in its clunking machinery, has a different plan for such utopian fruitcakes. Women *will* gossip unfavorably about sluts because those sluts represent a mating threat to their interests. Men *will* push for sex faster, and avoid commitment more studiously, with women they perceive as slutty. Sluts really *do* have tells that experienced men can clue in on. Cockteasers really *do* risk losing alpha males if they drag out the waiting period for sex too long. Aging, unfeminine spinsters with hairy chins and cheese grater attitudes really *will* have to settle for less desirable men than they could have gotten when they were younger, better looking and more docile. And hamsters really *will* spin their wheels more feverishly the higher the pile of delusional self-medicating lies grows.

I think that sort of thing causes a lot of men anxiety, though. I’ve noticed a lot of men in online spaces clamoring for a script.

Nah, that’s just you noticing that men are noticing your stupidity.

Tracy: Yes! There’s anxiety now about falling back on the more traditional dating script (which is not an entirely bad thing, mind you).

Can you blame these men? I’d be anxious too, if I had to traditionally (i.e., sexlessly) date a woman I knew gave it away for free in the past. And maybe present.

I think it feels too desperate, too eager to many young men. And, of course, intimacy and vulnerability have always been absolutely terrifying.

Why do feminists assert nonsense that intimacy is terrifying to men? Answer: it’s a female-friendly response that explains in elaborate mental calligraphy why they can’t keep a man around for more than a few ruttings, conveniently sidestepping the role that their physical unattractiveness might play.

Men are terrified of large, charging predators, like bears or lions or drunk fat chicks. They are not terrified of showering your overworked vagina with their warm seed. Get some perspective, will ya?

Amanda: Did you go on a second date with flowers guy who wanted to do nothing more but make out on the first date? Do you mind my asking? (I’ve been in a relationship for over six years now, so other people’s stories are my entertainment.)

The parameters of her… relationship… must be unique. Try to imagine the epic manboob who would have to settle for Amanjaw for six years, and then try to picture how long a normal man, such as yourself, would be willing to listen to her insane yapping.

Tracy: Actually, we’ve gone on something like five dates in a little over a week!

Lessee… guy wants to do nothing but make out on the first date. Clark dismisses his rapist effrontery by going on five more dates with him in the span of a single week. The femborg will be disappointed to hear this.

Tracy: Yes! It’s incredibly refreshing. And a large part of it is that I’m ready for that for the first time in my life, you know?

We know, Tracy, we know. You’re ready… because you have to be ready. That door won’t stay open forever.

It’s not like I’ve been yearning for that this whole time and have only now found a guy willing to give it to me.

Funny how you suddenly yearn for the self-abdicating loving lovingness of a desperate beta willing to lap your weirdo feminist shit when your expiration date is coming into focus.

Amanda: LOL yeah, that strikes me as an incredibly critical point.

Strike while the ego is exposed.

But that really leads to the question I know a bunch of men are asking themselves, which is how do you know what script a woman is interested in?

You misspelled “how do you know what script a hot woman is interested in?”

How do you know if you should keep it light or show up with flowers and a request that you take it slow?

False dichotomy. A man can keep it heavy and fast, too. In fact, that’s the best way to get a woman into bed, if you’re needing a script that has a high success rate.

Worst script: Pre-sex flowers. Never do that, at least not with women who still have more than a few eggs left in the chamber.

Tracy: Well, see, I think timing is so much of it. It really isn’t something that can be faked.

Oh rilly? I’m pretty sure in the history of the world there were more than a few men who successfully faked long-term romantic intentions to get speedy sex.

You can only do what you’re ready to do.

Bromide pie to the face.

If you want to bring a woman flowers, do it.

Hey, you can do anything you want, but that doesn’t mean it’s an advantageous course of action.

If you want to have casual flings, do that.

What if Clark’s flower guy decides during week number two he wants a casual fling?

Eventually you’ll find a lady who wants the same thing.

A lady now! How polite of you, madam. Will a Furry who likes to masturbate into soft bunny costume velour eventually find a lady who wants the same thing? What about a Bronie? A street flasher? A serial killer?

Oops, scratch that last one.

Amanda: That’s something I think gets lost in the overflow of dating advice out there, which is that it really is something you can figure out for yourself.

Then why the hell are you flapping your gums? And more relevantly, why the hell do media outlets continue giving shell entities like yourself a publishing platform? Mysteries of the universe.

Allow me to cut a serrated swath through this post-gender, social constructivist swamp muck. Amanjaw Marcuntte and her ilk absolutely hate men in the abstract and loathe unrestricted male desire. They work tirelessly for a world, however ultimately fruitless the endeavor, where female sexuality is free to roam wild and unjudgeable and male sexuality is straitjacketed, regulated, restricted, demonized, ridiculed and made obedient through law or eunuch alliance to female, particularly feminist, caprice. This is modern, critical theory feminism in a desiccated ovum. It’s a farce, but the bigger joke is that media organs happily provide advocates of this farce a forum to dazzle their awomen choruses.

Her’s a little slice of truth… just a little mind you, enough to qualify as hope and change but not so much to entice pointing and sputtering… for the Slate and Salon crowds and the Clark-Flory-Hamster-Hi-I’m-A-Useless-Self-Gratifying-Hyphen contingent:

There is no difference between hookup men and “for-real” men. The men you skanky, aging broads want “for real” are the hookup men who weren’t interested in the same thing you wanted back when you had more to offer. So you dropped your standards and unilaterally declared the more pliable men willing to play by your newly-discovered “traditional cougar courtship” rules the “for-real” men you claim you always desired.

That hatetalk is drawn from real world observation. Mine, and the collected wisdom of millions of men like me. Now, if you don’t like common sense derived from real world observation, then you can always turn to science, which has a funny habit of frequently confirming what we can all see with our lying eyes, and of debunking cherished feminist narratives.

“Under the hormonal influence of ovulation, women delude themselves into thinking that the sexy bad boys will become devoted partners and better dads,” Durante said. “When looking at the sexy cad through ovulation goggles, Mr. Wrong looked exactly like Mr. Right.” […]

“When asked about what kind of father the sexy bad boy would make if he were to have children with another woman, women were quick to point out the bad boy’s shortcomings,” said Durante. “But when it came to their own child, ovulating women believed that the charismatic and adventurous cad would be a great father to their kids.”

“While this psychological distortion could be setting some women up to choose partners who are better suited to be short-term mates, missing a mating opportunity with a sexy cad might be too costly for some women to pass up,” said Durante. “After all, you never know if he could be the ‘one.’”

If you didn’t get that, what it means is that women want their alpha hookups to turn into “for-real” men, but, unlike Clark’s assertion that she’s the one making the choice in which men she considers “for-real” dates, it’s actually the men (coupled with her desperation fueled by her rapidly closing attractiveness window) who are indirectly deciding for her which of them she’ll have to settle with in happily “for-realness” after.

Yes, the hookup jerks chicks love are also the jerks chicks wish would stop dicking around and CHOO CHOO CHOOSE them.

If you are a man, the lesson is obvious:

Do you want to live free as a hookup man with the option to convert to a “for-real” man, or live knowing you’re the backup plan as a “for-real” man with no option to convert to a hookup man?

I think I know which man most men would prefer to emulate. But don’t tell it to Clark-Flory. She might ask you out on five straight dates in the same week after your tongue has been down her throat wooing the shit out of her.

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Great Scenes Of Game In The Movies

A reader forwarded a scene from the movie As Good As It Gets, featuring a suave and somewhat caustic Jack Nicholson meeting Helen Hunt for dinner. The reader writes:

Here is a scene from Nicholson’s all time classic “As Good As It Gets” (spoiler, please don’t watch this if you haven’t seen movie, better to watch it in movie)

Even though it is on screen, it’s great! It’s all about him yet she felt so good.

Do you think Jack’s body language is like a true alpha?

Here’s the video. I do think it’s a great demonstration of alpha body language and game in action, but of course this is Jack we’re talking about. The man bleeds alpha, in role and in real life. Commentary below.

0:24 — “Should I get her for you?” “No, that’s OK. I’ll just watch.” This is a glimpse into the inner world of the alpha. He’s going to take his time, just watch, move to her slowly, like a predatory big cat. No one will rush him. No one will disturb his mojo. When you think this way, your actions and behavior will follow suit. I don’t go in for new agey motivational stuff very much, but it’s true that forcing yourself into positive thought patterns will impact how you behave. There is a reinforcing feedback loop that runs from your thoughts out through your body and voice and vice versa. And studies have actually proven this phenomenon: when you assume alpha male physical poses, you feel more powerful and take more risks.

0:28 to 0:54 — The alpha male walks slowly to his prey. When he’s sure that she’s seen him, he doesn’t rush up to her like most betas would; he stops at a distance and allows the moment to percolate with blissful anticipation, which women LOVE LOVE LOVE.

1:03 — COME HERE. That hand wave is supremely alpha. Again, most beta males would have rushed over to the girl when she happily waved at them. An alpha accepts her wave, and shits on her expectations by motioning her to come to him. SHe is now sliding off her seat at this point, and no words have yet been exchanged.

1:04 to 1:48 — There’s a lot going on in this half minute that could befuddle the average man, but Jack stands rooted to his original spot when he first made eye contact with Helen Hunt. The king rarely approaches; the king is approached.

1:50 — She almost slips and says he’s “sexy”, but catches herself and dilutes her compliment a bit. The importance of this scene rests in his reaction; arched quizzical eyebrows, followed by a warm smile. What’s alpha here is not what is done, but what is omitted; he doesn’t latch onto her flattery like a needy beta who can’t believe his luck. He just accepts it and moves on to another topic.

2:02 — Showing a little bit of chivalry won’t kill you as long as you are alpha in all other ways.

2:10 to 2:20 — “You wanna dance?” “Well. I’ve been thinking about that since you brought it up before.” “And?” As she’s getting up from her chair assuming he meant he would like to dance: “No.” When you defy women’s expectations, you electrify their pelvic easements. Plus, this was damn funny.

2:24 — This is what we in the industry call a nuclear neg. Note: NOT recommended for newbs, or most any man really. There is a line where a neg, even an unintentional one, morphs into a blatant insult, which can crush a woman’s ego so thoroughly her shame shuts her down to further gaming. This is why Jack has to console her and, in his own alpha way, make amends. Helen Hunt is cute, but she’s no hard 10 club slut begging for abuse, so the nuclear neg worked against Jack.

2:44 — Notice that when Jack is quasi-apologizing, he never says “I’m sorry” (“I didn’t mean it that way” is the closest he comes to saying sorry) and he never stops delivering commands to her. “You gotta sit down. You can still give me the dirty look, just sit down and give it to me.”

2:50 — She demands he pay her a compliment. This sets up an alpha reply perfectly, because at this point her expectation that he will either say nothing or ramble stupidly or compliment something about her beauty are cemented firmly in place. The beta male would abide, ultimately disappointing her. The alpha male would do what Jack does next.

3:10 onward — He really takes his sweet time getting around to formulating that compliment. When a woman says “jump”, the beta male jumps. The alpha male ties his shoelaces and does a few warm-up stretches before accosting the ref about the rules of jumping and the distance he’s obliged to go. That is, when he feels like jumping.

3:25 — A good way to tease a woman is to overly dramatize your suffering and sacrifice that you do for her. Jack rubbing his hands and his forehead, and furrowing his brow because paying her a compliment is so tough, is just the kind of playful drama that chicks LOVE LOVE LOVE.

3:32 — “Can we order first?” This is the first time he up-ends her expectation. When his defiance crows thrice, she will be in love.

3:38 — Yelling across the room to place your order: alpha. This is the second time he defies her expectation.

4:05 — Helen: “I’m so afraid you’re about to say something awful.” My friends, you WANT to hear this line from a woman. You know why? Because it means you’re INTERESTING to her. INTRIGUING. And that’s a beautiful foundation for love sex and intimacy.

4:10 — “Don’t be pessimistic. It’s not your style.” General game note here: girls love it when you make a comment about what is or isn’t “their style”. To them, it means you’re connecting.

4:15 — “Clearly a mistake.” The Bill Clinton non-apology. Coming soon to a horde of admiring female fans near you.

4:20 — “I’ve got this.. what.. ailment.” He launches into a seemingly irrelevant story about himself that does not begin with a compliment for her. This is the third time he defies her expectation, and now the stage for love is nearly set.

5:15 — The payoff. Was it a compliment about her looks? Her eyes? Her generosity? Her dancing skills? No. It was a nebulous compliment about her that centered on himself. Why did she love it so much? Because a woman LOVES LOVES LOVES the thought that she is the one, the only one among all women, who can soften a hard man, coax him into her embracing redemption, and persuade him to turn his back, at least for a little bit, on his wild and independent and intemperate and free range masculinity.

Of course, she would be disappointed if he ever did such a thing in totality, because that would mean he’s no longer the project she can fix, the untamed thoroughbred she can break. He’d just be a lapdog if he ever acceded fully to her claimed demands and desires. This is something beta males don’t get about women; they do as their women tell them, and they never stop paying for their obedience.

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Why Women Have A Sixth Sense

Women don’t literally have a sixth sense, but they do have better intuition than men, if casual observation is to be believed. (Readers may correct me if I’m off-base, but I think there have even been studies purporting to show that women do have a more finely developed intuition than men, or that women lean on their intuition more than men lean on theirs.)

If we take it as a given that women are more intuitive, then we can offer two plausible evolutionarily modulated reasons why this sex difference exists.

1. Women need to be better than men at screening out undesirable mate prospects, and intuition is a tool they use to accomplish on-the-fly screening.

Men are more visual-oriented than women, so men can see with a split second glance which women are worthy of their seed and which aren’t. Women, on the contrary, require many input variables to determine a man’s worthiness as a mating partner, including, in great measure, his personality; so women have evolved a preference for intuition — molded by eons of accumulated genetic wisdom — as a guide to help them filter out beta males from alpha males. (Or lesser value men from higher value men.) This intuition is what allows a woman to uncover, through the mechanisms of gut feelings and subconsciously formulated sly psychological “tests”, a man’s strength, character, attractiveness to other women, and ability to take the heat without melting down. Her hamster gets a tingle for the man who passes through her intuition filter, and she responds by physiologically opening up to him.

2. Women need to be better than men at averting and resolving relationship trouble, and intuition is a tool they use to identify early warning signs that the relationship is foundering.

A woman is honed like a machine to be a first responder to relationship crisis. She uses her intuition to pick out subtle nicks in the relationship armor that could grow to chasms if left untended. Women’s attractiveness window for landing a desirable mate is shorter than men’s attractiveness window, so a woman who has invested some months or even years into a relationship will have more to lose than the man should the relationship fail. A man can more easily pick himself up and brush himself off for another go-round in the dating scene. Women therefore have evolved an exquisite sense for sniffing out warning signs that a man is losing interest, or that his love, and hence his commitment, is cooling. This is why men are perplexed when women bring up “problems” with the relationship that the men can’t fathom are worthy of discussion. And yet, women’s refined intuition for evidence of men’s emotional distancing has likely served their sex well over the millennia, helping her head off additional investment that would lead nowhere but to an older and unlovelier version of herself alone again in the mating market.

Men who have experience with a lot of women have acquired an astute awareness of women’s intuition, and have even developed their own to compete with women. Players have a preternatural ability to know when a girlfriend is drifting away, or a lover is about to cheat, or a date isn’t both feet in. They know better than less experienced men when to cut their losses and when to press on, partly based on their own refined intuitions and partly based on a better ability to manipulate women’s intuitive sense for both of their gains. This is why some of the best players beloved by women possess feminine acumen themselves. The alpha male leader of men who cares not for the emotional world of women often leaves the sensitive female cold, and finds himself playing second fiddle to the man who has absorbed female psychology and made it work for him.

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Did Obama Have Game?

The fate of the world may hinge on whether Obama was once a lady slayer. Commenter Sp5 writes:

Based on this article about the judgment of his ex-girlfriends, Obama did have game, at least in his early years:

“In one diary entry from February 1984, Ms Cook – a girlfriend for more than a year – noted that in their relationship “the sexual warmth is definitely there – but the rest of it has sharp edges”.

She recalled “feeling anger” at Mr Obama, whose “warmth can be deceptive”. Foreshadowing a criticism often levelled at the President today, she said: “Though he speaks sweet words there is also that coolness”.

. . . . In another entry, she wrote that there was “so much going on beneath the surface, out of reach,” adding that Mr Obama was “guarded, controlled.””

If this woman’s recollection is true, it’s definitely evidence in favor of Obama having once had game. (I say “having once had”, because the First Linebacker seems to have beaten it out of him.) The description of Obama’s attitude — c.f. his state control — shares similarities with that of alpha males and charismatic men. Many womanizers are affectionate and sexual, but keep a psychological arm’s length between themselves and their quarry, which of course motivates the women to chase the men for more commitment and love. If you were wondering, this is a good position to be in as a man, because it allows you to call the shots.

Naturals and alpha males, in fact, are more apt than are niceguys and beta males to objectify and compartmentalize women. Yet, to listen to feminist complaints, you’d think the exact opposite was the reality. But that’s just because feminists in particular, and women in general, are constitutionally incapable of admitting the truth about the contours of their sexual desire.

My personal theory about our hope and changer is that the burdens of his intrinsic duality and loneliness that all racial halfies must bear, and the especially painful bitterness that abandoned sons of deadbeat fathers and emotionally distant mothers nurse their whole lives, eventually won the battle with his easygoing cool side, subsuming his game charms under a thin veneer of barely concealed seething resentment and racial solidarity mongering (it’s human nature to want to feel part of a distinct group, and this is doubly so if your group membership cred is questionable). Nevertheless, hints of Obama’s game survive to this day, mostly in the way he has mastered the art of mirroring — pretending to listen to people and regurgitate their thoughts even when he thinks differently. Obama is a cipher, and ciphers are often some of the most devastatingly charming ladykillers.

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“I didn’t need game to land my wife”

A fairly common hater/game denialist shibboleth is the extrapolating from anecdote fallacy. For example, a well-respected herb in his community will find this blog, feel his beta ego fill with regret for years of missed opportunity, and immediately assert he is manlier and/or a more attractive and psychologically balanced individual because he “didn’t need these mind game tricks” to find a wife or girlfriend who loves him.

I don’t doubt that a lot of these anti-game haters are telling the truth as they perceive it. They probably didn’t need game, or more likely unwittingly used a greatly diluted version of game, to find and fall in love with a faithful (best not think otherwise) GF or wife.

Reasoning from anecdote is a logical fallacy, but there are enough of these assertions by game haters that it’s possible a statistically nontrivial number of men really did not need or use game, intentionally or otherwise, to get hitched. Therefore, discounting them automatically is not a legitimate counter-argument. There is a better way to expose their sham claims for what they actually represent.

Here’s the rub: it’s a good bet the quality (aka the sexual market value, or SMV) of their girlfriends or wives is on the middling to low end of the female attractiveness scale.

If you are the average man — average height, employed, no major physical or emotional deformities, able to hold a conversation without shitting your pants, don’t know what LARP means, can refrain from obsessively counting toothpicks that fall on the floor — then you won’t need game, or very much game as the term is commonly understood, to fall ass-backwards into long term relationships with plain janes, facial mediocrities, or chubsters (who, note, constitute the majority of American womanhood, and thus fall right in the middle of the fat (heh) part of the bell curve).

If you are this man, all you need to do to win over a woman like this — the average woman — is approach, say “hi”, chat a bit about her likes and dislikes, and show some persistence and you’ll get her in bed by date five or twenty. Voila!, an “I didn’t need game to land my wife” anti-gamer is born from the wreckage of his surrendered dreams. Since most average men are ball-less castrati, the majority of you anti-gamers are likely staying within your comfort zones and meeting only women who are not attractive enough to fuel inject your lust or challenge your risk-avoidance habits.

This is my working assumption, and I’m certain the types of guys who go stir crazy with spite at the mention of game are dating or married to dreary commonplace women they had little trouble “winning over” the lackluster, “show up on time” way.

So, to visually summarize, if the women you date or are married to are about as attractive as her:

or her:

…then, yeah, congratulate your virtuous self, you won’t need much game to score a date every two months that resolves in uninspired, tepid sex.

But if the women you date, or want to date, are as attractive as these girls:

…then you will need game. And a lot of it. Because, you see, hot girls have options, and options means they will demand more of the men who want to sleep with them and love them. And game, aka learned charisma, effectively satisfies that demand.

Or you can continue taking the path of least resistance and settling down in easy monotony with potato faces so that you can enjoy stalking pickup blogs and railing about the futility of game.

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Why So Many Vegetarians Are Dumpy

I’m not surprised by how many out-of-shape vegetarians waddle among us. Since most vegetarians are women, this means I’m not surprised by how many self-declared vegetarian women are dumpy. The media-pushed image of the slender vegetarian woman is far from the reailty.

Is it because fat women are more likely to adopt vegetarianism to lose weight? No. Fat women are more likely to continue eating whatever is put in front of them. The real reason so many self-righteous and putatively health-conscious vegetarian women are chubby is because they substitute their hated meat with a much worse food-based product: sugar.

You may as well call vegetarians “sugartarians”, or “pastatarians”. Spend any amount of time eating with a vegetarian and you’ll see that they don’t actually eat all that many vegetables. What they eat in place of meat is a lot of pasta, chips, noodles, rice, beans, cereal (oh lord, do they eat a lot of cereal), bread and pretzels. In other words, they have replaced an under-appreciated fat and protein source with an inordinate amount of simple, high glycemic carbs. Result: bloat.

Vegetarians should get off their high horses and realize that the pasta they shovel down their gullets is worse for their health and looks than the T-bone steak they claim is the root of evil and the gender pay gap. A healthy meat-eater like a paleo dieter probably eats more real veggies than a zealous vegetarian. And they look better, too. That suggests one tactic for moving the lemming sex away from a stupid status whoring trend: impress upon women how their sanctimonious diet is ruining their looks. They’ll stampede for the exits.

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