Porn Is A Portent Of Sexbotopia

Sexbots. The very word sends chills down the spines of low sexual market value women. They fear competition or, worse, replacement. Even hot babes will suffer blowback from widespread use by men of realistic sexbots; the pool of desirable men remaining in the human mating market will have shrunk in proportion to the women who have the looks to snag them. Expect the “Russian Phenomenon” to sweep across the American landscape: ugly, irresponsible drunkards inexplicably snagging trophy hot blonde bombshells.

Sexbots that can simulate real women are still one silicone foot in the fantasy world, but the tech is rapidly progressing. Whoever said necessity is the mother of invention was wrong; the male sex drive is the mother of invention. (Though, I suppose you could argue that satisfying the male sex drive IS necessity.) So, for now, the agog crowd can rest easy that no major sexbot invasion is about to storm our shores.

But, interestingly, we can get a preview of what a sexbot-serviced future world will look like by turning our jaundiced eye and drained dicks to the effects that porn is having on the 21st Century man.

If it is true (and I happen to believe that it is) that modern porn — ubiquitous, on-demand, high definition, free hardcore porn — is a supernormal stimuli the likes of which have never been experienced by men at any point in human history until now, then we can make a reasonable leap of logic from our current porn-saturated world to a world full of sexbots, and what the toll will be on society. Sexbots will take supernormal stimuli into uncharted territory; dopamine receptors may very well explode aneurytically.

A reader starts us off on the speculation:

Is porn turning men into lazy bums? Might explain the effects of supernormal stimuli. Money won’t much help them get a girl, the women in porn are hotter than anything they could get in the real world anyway, and it seems to have bad effects on motivation overall. Why should men do anything?  Not the recipe for a healthy society.

Assuming porn is making men lazy, apathetic and demotivated, imagine what life-like sexbots who resemble Emma Stone will do to men! I can easily foresee a future where masses of betas and omegas become shut-ins, telecommuting for their sustenance while getting their lust (and mavbe love; have you seen bronies?) needs met by artificial babes who, on the internal male balance sheet, are a more fulfilling choice of sexual partner than the chubby human female 4s and 5s with tankgrrl attitude they could get in the flesh. And with a lot less effort and shit tests.

Men’s happiness doesn’t seem to have gone down however. Though I have heard that there is a bifurcation in male happiness with lower class males losing ground while upper/upper middle class men staying the same or getting happier.  But I’d have to confirm that.

Are lazy, apathetic, demotivated men unhappy? Surveys show women are the ones getting unhappier the deeper we get into the feminist and sexual revolutions. If lower SMV men are getting their dopamine fix via porn, their overall level of happiness might not budge. The unhappiness flowing from low status would be countered by the happiness from orgasmic fulfillment and fooling the id receptors that a high quality mate has been successfully courted.

Whatever the consequence for men’s happiness, it’s a plausible hypothesis that widely available hardcore porn is both a bad omen for the maintenance of civilization and a net plus for rape and molestation rates, which go down with the rise of porn use.

If porn is having this presumed deleterious effect on men’s libidos and passions, sexbots will intensify that (possibly dysgenic) trend a thousandfold. Maybe sexbots will become a form of Danegeld, where the shrinking elite utilize them to pacify the massed lower classes with robotic intimacy. Or maybe sexbots will free the r-selection id fully from its cage, as millions of sexually sated betas, their needs met and their urgency diluted, hit the bars and clubs spitting game like champions of the Aloofness Olympics, on women who have found themselves in competition not only with other women, but with robot women. (Cue “Don’t Date a Robot!” Futurama vid.)

Alternatively, in horrified response to the swarm of sexual release outlets hijacking the minds of men, strict religious orders may institute draconian rules to shield their members from the onslaught; coupled with their higher birth rates, in a few generations we could see a much more God-fearing Western world, and these days of secular miracle and wonder will seem then a distant nightmare concocted in the heads of perverse dystopian writers.

Some free thinkers may ask, “What’s the equivalent of modern supernormal stimuli for women? What dopaminergic threats hijack the pleasure centers of women’s brains and render them incompatible civilizational partners and incorrigible entitled mating prospects?”

Answer: 50 Shades of Gray, tabloids, Facebook, OkCupid, pulp romance novels, pretty much everything on TV, high glycemic carbs.

These are the fantasy and orgasmic outlets for women. Women’s supernormal stimuli differs from men’s in form only; the function is EXACTLY the same: to provide deep, pleasurable limbic massages that can’t be had in the dull, boring, uninspiring real world human sexual market. And the effects on women’s spirits, I will argue, are actually WORSE for society than those effects caused by porn on men’s willingness to brace the support beams of civilization. For a woman whose senses are in thrall to the sexual delights of  fictional billionaire sadists, the ego uplifts of beta male supplicating social media, the instant gratification of carby calories, and the fantasy worldview reinforcing messages of gay and feminist-dominated trash TV, is a woman who is too obese, too self-absorbed and too demanding to make the sacrifices required of her to please a husband and raise a family of more than 0.5 kids.

Sexbots will only have an indirect effect on women, for women are by nature less visual creatures than men, and won’t be drawn to the corporeal pleasures offered by rudimentary AI Jude Law model #3,465. What sexbots will do is widen the already growing chasm between the sexes, until only the fittest of the fit — and fitness is whatever gets one’s genes to the next generation, whether beneficial to civilization or not — can successfully leap across it to woo a human companion in the way that our genetic overlord intended.

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Tosh’s Mosh Pit

Readers want a word or two about the Daniel Tosh affair. Ok. Lessons from yet another sordid femcunt yeast explosion.

1. Never… NEVER…. apologize to a feminist cackling for your head. This goes as well for any -ist member tossing -isms your way. If you apologize, however snarkily, you embolden the smelly beasts. Mock them in return. Reframe the discussion. Or just shit in their faces. Anything is better, in this suffocating PC climate, than apologizing to the degenerate freak mafia. And guess what? When you give the enemy no quarter, they tend to sulk silently back into the shadows from whence they emerged.

1a. We’re at the point of cultural antagonism now, that even if you literally did shit in a feminist’s face, you shouldn’t apologize for it. Hold out your arms proudly and let the cops slap the cuffs on you.

2. A woman who voluntarily goes to a shooting range and complains about how offended she was by all the guns on display and bullet casings on the ground, and then demands an apology from the gun range owner, is an idiot who deserves withering scorn. Same applies for a cunt who voluntarily goes to a comedy club and then bitches about the comic’s offensive material.

3. Tosh is a funny dude. He’s also, perhaps, the most un-PC comic working today, save Adam Carolla. (Sorry, LouisCK, I suspect you’re really the beta you play on TV.) How does he get away with it? A friendly, approachable demeanor. A superficial naivete. A mischievous smirk. But don’t be fooled; the guy is a sadistic soul-shivver of the first degree, and that’s why he’s funny.

4. You can’t be funny repackaging lies. This is why feminists and other equalist foot soldiers are never funny. They traffic in lies, which contorts their faces into permanent sourpusses. The best comedy builds from a foundation of taboo truth.

5. Female privilege. Matriarchal power structure. Call it what you will, the fact is that women are granted certain exemptions in society based on their sex alone. And one of those, as GLPiggy notes, is the freedom to mouth off in comedy venues without consequence. Women know that the odds they will be aggressively shouted down by the comic or the audience, or even physically assaulted or tossed out, are far lower than they would be for a man who mouthed off in the identical fashion. Women also know that should someone go a little “too far” striking back at their idiocy, an army of undersexed, tool white knights will rush to their defense. Women definitely do leverage this advantage of their sex to be immune from serious consequence, although they will never admit it, partly because this leveraging happens in the subconscious and is thus inaccessible by their higher order thinking lobes.

6. Humorless shrikes. Is there any species of humanity more pathetic?

7. The US is going the way of Canada and the UK: real, free speech of the kind protected by the First Amendment will be dead in this country within our lifetimes. Bet on it. The only salvation now will come in the form of revolution.

8. Are women naturally hysterical, like toddlers, or do they fake it to enjoy the rewards of triggering the damsel-in-distress effect? Yes, and yes. No, bitch, Tosh’s jokes were not going to incite the whole room to gang rape you. Get over yourself and hie to a fainting couch. Now if you *really* want to feel gnawing terror, I know a few neighborhoods I could drop you off in at 2am…

9. If you’re an ugly feminist, no one wants to rape you. Sorry to burst your bubble.

10. Why do feminists whine on and on about rape? Secretly, they get a little turned on by thought. That’s what happens to your perspective when you have for company a battalion of lapdog beta males agreeing with your every insipid musing.

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Liberal Men And Fat Chicks

I’ve been meaning to read Jonathan Haidt’s new book “The Righteous Mind“, on the recommendation of many readers who say it is an epic synthesis of human morality that merges Darwinism with political ideology.

From a customer review at Amazon:

[A]ccording to Haidt’s and others’ research, there are at least six mental ‘modules’ that go into moral and poltical decisions, and it is difficult to argue that any one (or two or three) are more important than others. And they are: care/harm, fairness/cheating, loyalty/betrayal, authority/subversion, sanctity/degradation and liberty/oppression. Some people (often of the political left) care most about care/harm and fairness/cheating in their emphasis on egalitarian politics that aim to provide care for those in need and create fair rules in the sense that everyone, relatively speaking, starts on an ‘even playing field.’ Others (usually conservatives) have tempermants that focus on authority/suversion and loyalty/betrayal, focusing on maintaining or promoting institutions that foster some level of deference to authority (in legitimate hierarchies), and loyalty (whether to country, God, family, etc).

One point Haidt makes is that conservatives score stronger than liberals on the disgust (sanctity/degradation) module of morality. (Interestingly, liberals appear to have no ability to even relate to this aspect of human morality, whereas conservatives can relate, albeit with a weaker degree of intensity, to putatively liberal moral modules such as fairness and care.)

Conservatives feel stronger revulsion toward disgusting things than do liberals, who, apparently, like to wallow in shit, (or to reframe it in a nicer way: like to experience unique vistas). So when the conservative thinks about gay sex and the penis pushing hard into another man’s anus, he recoils with revulsion. The liberal merely shrugs his shoulders. Not a sermon, just a naughty thought.

Which brings me to pondering something critical to the maintenance of our nation’s infrastructure: do liberal men, with their higher threshold for disgusting things, tend to fuck fat chicks more often than conservative men fuck fat chicks? Is the liberal male more open than the conservative male to slumming it?

Have any of you readers noticed differences in the strictness or laxity with which your liberal and conservative friends hold their standards for opposite sex partners? Have you noticed if the libs you know like to dumpster dive with dirigibles more than you’d be comfortable doing? Have you noticed if the conservative men you know are more judgmental of fat chicks? Do your con or lib male friends date skinnier, hotter women?

This post is purely speculative, because personally, I have not noticed much of a difference between men of differing political persuasions in their willingness to tumble with a landfaring tanker that couldn’t be more parsimoniously explained by differences in sexual market value, rather than liberal comfort with or conservative distaste for the dung heap of humanity. Some leftie men I know, while they preach a good bit about beauty being subjective, are quite the unforgiving judgmental pricks when it comes down to decision time, and they make their choice for 0.7 waist-hip ratio slender babes (when they can).

On the other hand, the flabby swingers and dirty scenesters I’ve met were all, to a tee, left wing cranks. As are the postmodern aka smear menstrual blood on a canvas “””artists”””.

I wonder if Haidt addressed this pressing question in his book? If he did, his may be the best book ever written in the PC era. Kudos would go to him.

Now I can already hear the liberals who read this blog whining that disgust is a weak moral module that should have no impact on public policy or personal choice. Consenting adults, and all that. But the utility of disgust is underrated by the neckbeard crowd. Disgust helps uphold lofty norms, and demands the best of society’s members. Disgust makes lebensraum liveable, and raises the beauty aesthetic. Disgust protects a tribe against being overrun by beastly invaders.

Disgust, it could even be plausibly argued, created female beauty. Generations of men over the eons, sufficiently disgusted by ugly chicks and fat cows, have done their part to bang and reproduce with the best looking women, and that gift is bequeathed this day to us, their descendants, in the form of barely legal porn and hot Russian tennis minxes. If our ancestors had all been live-and-let-live liberals with a weak disgust reflex, we modern men might be hitting on hairy cavewomen with long, dangly breasts and anvil-shaped jaws that could shell walnuts.

I mean, if you can pick up a steaming shit without flinching, maybe you shouldn’t have too much say in local zoning laws.

I have a very strong disgust reflex, for those of you wondering. If I see even a tiny superfluous fold on a chick’s belly, I get my whiteboard pointer and poke the offensive fatty deposit a few times, until she takes the hint. Protractors and tape measures are often utilized to emphasize the teachable moment.

Related, here’s a good discussion on the morality of disgust, over at Mangan’s.

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What Do You Do If A Girl Calls Your Disqualification Bluff?

Disqualifications — false or genuine — are a powerful pickup tool. Pulling the rug out from under a girl who autonomically believes you desire her is a lickety-split way to raise your status vis a vis her status, and thus delight her hypergamous reflex. The fact is, women are constantly in a disqualification state of mind: she glides through the masses of maledom programmed to disqualify as many suitors as possible, and to settle upon the one man who is the best of all the men she can attract with her looks and youth.

Knowing this, the appropriation by the pickup artist of the female prerogative to disqualify is a classic example of flipping the seduction script and deviously moving the woman into the chaser role, where she is more likely to perceive you as higher status and sexually desirable. Psych 101 and various books on influencing friends and clients touches upon this stuff, but of course the estimable textbooks don’t follow the logic down the crimson road of poon hunting.

There are four primary types of disqualification. Briefly, I will describe them here, before tackling the subject of this post’s title.

1. Preemptive self-disqualification

Introduced by Mystery, this is a statement you make to a girl that lets her know, in so many words, that you aren’t a serious prospect. You do this by disqualifying yourself. Examples: “I’m gay”, “I’m in a relationship”, “I’m not interested in dating at this point in my life”, “I have the AIDS”, “I poop myself during scary scenes in movies”, “I’m a male feminist”.

This type of DQ (disqualification — I don’t feel like typing the whole word out because my pinky finger isn’t working, fuck you acronym haters) is called “preemptive” because it short circuits a girl’s hypergamous instinct by robbing her of the opportunity to disqualify you first. It essentially reverses the chaser-chased dynamic, and upturns millions of years of evolutionarily molded female expectation. All of this works on the subconscious level. In the heat and fury of a real live social interaction, these game tactics fly under a girl’s conscious radar, barely perceived by anyone but her omnipresent war room hamster and the hotline the fevered critter has to the gina general at the front.

The preemptive self-DQ is intended to act as a bitch shield runaround: a girl is less likely to blow you out if you make her think you’re not available to her in the first place.

2. Target disqualification

Self-explanatory, this is a tactic whereby the man disqualifies the girl from being a serious mating prospect. Owing to the greater chance that Target DQ can be perceived by the woman as sour grapes, this is a more aggressive, and thus riskier, form of DQ, its risk weighed against a potentially more rewarding payoff. Examples: “You seem like you’d make a great friend”, “You’re not really my type”, “You’re a good girl, I’m nothing but trouble… we would never work”, “I’m glad you’re off the market” [just assume she’s off the market], “Phew, so nice to talk to a girl who isn’t trying to flirt with me”, “Since your vagina is cemented shut by a rare disease, I can talk to you like you’re one of the guys”, “You’re the first lesbian I’ve met in this town”.

The Target DQ is less about lowering a woman’s bitch shield than it is about instigating a woman to qualify herself to you. It’s a more proactive DQ compared to the PSDQ above, serving as it does as an immediate status differential cue to the woman that she has to do something to correct the imbalance to the natural order of things. This “something” usually involves convincing you, the incorrigible player, that she is hot and sexy and goodtogo. PSDQs are female disqualification — aka rejection — avoiders or neutralizers, while TDQs are meant to coax women into self-qualifying.

3. Handicap Principle self-disqualification

This is a sub-genre of vulnerability game, and promoted by Charisma Arts (A Wayne Elise aka Juggler production). Basically, you bring up some faux embarrassing thing about yourself — some minor personality flaw that you blow up into significance — and reveal it to the girl. The theory behind the Handicap Principle is that women perceive men who are comfortable “handicapping” themselves — either through bright plumage (peacocking) or through admission of beta characteristics — as alpha males, because who else but an alpha male would be strong and powerful enough to shoulder a weak beta flaw without suffering any hit to his overall status?

Be careful with the Handicap Principle. First, it’s a theory, an elegant one to be sure, but one that remains, as far as I know, largely unproven by evolutionary biologists. The degree to which HP might apply to humans is unknown. At some great enough level of flaw possession, the Handicap Principle must surely break down, and we see evidence for this in the many stories of alpha males who became beta in relationships and then lost their women’s love. Personally, I think the Handicap Principle is easily confused with the theory of sexual selection, but that is a topic for a future post.

Nonetheless, it is true that women coo for the alpha male who unloads a perfectly timed admission of (cute) self-abnegation. Examples: “Oh man, I’m so bad at figuring out if women are flirting with me or not”, “I don’t dance, I’ve got two left feet”, “Ever since an unfortunate childhood trauma, I’ve had a fear of puppies”, “Black people scare me”.

The trick is to admit your “flaws” with utmost confidence and unconcern. Don’t say them as if you’re waiting to judge her reaction. They should be spoken off-the-cuff, almost as if you’re unaware that there is a girl standing there listening to you. NEVER admit to a real beta flaw that would repulse most women; i.e. “I go limp when a woman makes more money than I do”.

4. Beta bait disqualification

Another Juggler specialty, the idea behind the BBDQ is to disqualify yourself as a sucker for women’s flirtations. This is a minor school of DQ that you probably won’t use or need very often, but when you do use it, its power is undeniable. Women will very frequently try to “tease out” beta males by complimenting men and judging them on their reactions. Does the man express a little too much appreciation for her compliment? BETA. Does he seize upon her compliment as a springboard to ask her out? BETA. Does he say “Wow, no girl has ever said something so kind to me before!”? BETA.

But if a woman compliments you, and your reaction is to ignore it, downplay it, or even disagree with her (without veering into self-deprecation territory), she will think ALPHA. Examples: “Thanks, but this actually isn’t my favorite shirt”, “You like these shoes? You’re easy to please”, “Yes, that bulge is my penis. Now you’ve made me self-conscious”.

The BBDQ is both a self-disqualification and a target disqualification. You deny the woman’s positive assessment of you, while simultaneously denying her power over your emotions. It is a very subtle art form that, when mastered, is chick crack to women’s status discernment modules. A successful BBDQ is only superficially a signal of modesty; underneath the calculated modesty is a heat-seeking missile aimed straight at a woman’s id heart that explodes in a fireball of lust for your total lack of interest in winning her approval.

***

DQs are one of the most difficult game techniques for noobs to grasp. They are tangentially related to negs, and like the neg, they are often abused and misused by beginners. Their power is also their danger; because they work so well, men new to the game have a tendency to throw them out at awkward moments, and with too much expectant fervor. They then come across as creeps and try-hards, and wind up providing fodder to bitches to later log into the social media borg to mock the hapless betas who tried to run game on them.

(Leave it to a woman to mock a man for trying. You don’t hear too many men mocking fat chicks who make a real effort to lose weight by going to the gym and eating right. But then, in some respects, men simply have more compassion and empathy than do women for the opposite sex. But I ingest.)

The keys to getting your DQ money’s worth are timing, context and delivery. Too soon –> weird. Too late –> spiteful. Too unrelated — > try-hard. Too forced –> creepy. Too self-deprecating –> beta. Too nasty –> sour grapes.

But even when you have timing, context and delivery down pat, you will sometimes get your DQ called out by a woman.

You: “I’m not looking for anyone right now.”

Girl: “Good, because neither am I.”

***

You: “You’re a good girl, I’m trouble… we would never work out.”

Girl: “Yeah, I guess I am a good girl.”

***

You: “I’ve got a weird fear of puppies. Goes back to a childhood incident.”

Girl: “That’s fucked up.”

***

You: “Thanks, but this isn’t my favorite shirt.”

Girl: “Yeah, now that I look at it closely, it’s not a very good shirt.”

Don’t worry. These kinds of reactions, as plausible as they are in writing, and as much as cunts will cackle that they will respond like this to players whenever one of them tries to hit on their skanky carcasses, are blessedly rare. Most girls will be too high on their torqued emotions to call out a player’s DQ bluff so directly. The hamster is simply not that rational; hence, why he’s called the rationalization hamster, devoted to creating rationale out of nothing at all.

But DQ bluff-calling does happen, and more often to newbs than to experienced PUAs. When a newb gets his DQ bluff called, the result can be hilarity (not to mention the newb’s demanding his money back from some overpriced pickup seminar he attended). A great illustration of a newb’s DQ bluff being called out was provided by Juggler in this post.

ASPIRING NOOB: “I could. But I’m not going to. I’m an all out there kinda guy. I’m going to this fab party later. If you’re lucky I might invite you.”

GIRL: “No thanks.”

“Aww. You’re playing hard to get. That’s so cute.”

“Whatever.”

“I hear an accent. Where are you from?”

“Nowhere.”

“Ha. Nowhere. That’s funny. Can I buy you a drink?”

“Yes. I’ll take a piña colada but don’t even think about dropping a roofie in there. I’m not going to hook up with you.”

“Whoever said anything about hooking up? You’re more of the kinda girl I see as a friend.”

“Good.”

“Good. So what’s your name?”

If a girl isn’t already invested in the conversation with you, a DQ is less likely to have the intended effect. If you walk up to a girl cold and start spouting off about how you just want to be friends with her and you aren’t available for dating, what kind of reaction do you think you’ll get? Do you imagine girls will start qualifying themselves to you on the spot? No, you have to first reel her in and dangle the promise of your interest before unloading the soul-sucking DQ.

Many PUAs, like Tyler Durden, recommend a preemptive approach to DQing; that is, you train yourself to sense when girls are about to disqualify you, and disqualify them before they get a chance. Often, this occurs during the late comfort stage of the seduction, when the girl is beginning to feel pangs of guilt about the release of her inner slut which looms on the horizon. Other PUAs, like Mystery, advocate active DQs early in the attraction phase, as a direct method for building attraction. Still others say to avoid them entirely, as the risk of delving into “sour grapism” territory is too great to assume.

I will say this about DQs:

They are supposed to sound spontaneous. The best DQs are unexpected and off-the-cuff. If it sounds like a line, it will backfire. If it sounds like you thought about it beforehand, it will backfire. Body language and facial expression are important conveyors of indifference and spontaneity.

Never DQ from a position of weakness. If you are working overtime to keep a girl’s attention, a DQ will only lower your value even more. Remember, DQs are FALSE disqualifications. When you DQ as a last resort to keep a girl around, it is no longer false; it is a real disqualification.

If a girl calls out your DQ, my best advice is to ignore it and change the subject, OR readily agree with her in return. A pinpoint DQ destroyer, while rare, is not to be trifled with. You want to avoid at all costs the impression of being flustered or annoyed or dispirited by her agreement with your DQ. Just roll with it, as if you’re glad she agreed with you, and reassess if she’s worth your continued effort to bed.

The upside to a failed DQ is that, later, if the girl is into you and starts to return your interest, you can remind her of the claim she made earlier about not wanting this to go anywhere. A pullback at a moment when the girl MOST WANTS TO PULL INTO YOU is like sticking TNT up her hamster’s anus. You are beginning down the road of building your own slave harem.

Preemptive DQs — the type of DQ that occurs before you have built adequate interest in the girl (think Mystery Method-style) — can work great IF you don’t linger on them waiting for a reaction. You drop the DQ, ignore whatever reply she gives in return, and plow. The goal is subconscious infiltration, leading to script flipping.

Mystery-style preemptive DQs work best on hot girls. Since hot girls are the most likely to assume every man wants them (justifiably), a quick correction to the contrary can temporarily scramble their status differential discernment algorithms.

Be careful about DQing 6s and 7s. You can easily blow a girl out of the water and render yourself unattainable to them.

If you’re going to agree with a girl’s DQ nuke, don’t make a production out of it. For example:

WRONG WAY TO AGREE WITH GIRL’S DQ NUKE

Girl: “Good. I just want to be friends too.”

You: “Yeah, yeah, friends. That’s what I want to.” [pained expression belies your words]

RIGHT WAY TO AGREE WITH GIRL’S DQ NUKE

Girl: “Good. I just want to be friends too.”

You: “Cool. So… you see that guy over there? I think he wants you. That’s the way to do it. Stare hard.”

In Juggler’s example above, when the NOOB says “If you’re lucky I might invite you”, he’s expecting the girl to reply something along the lines of “Wow, you must think you’re special”, a shit test to which the NOOB thinks he is well-trained to parry. But instead, she deflates him totally with the cold “No thanks”. The NOOB is now left flailing, hurling more DQs at her in hopes one will stick.

The best defense against the deflating DQ nuke is to simply avoid putting yourself in the position where such nukes are likely to happen. If you pace yourself, the likelihood of triggering a DQ nuke goes way down. Should one happen to you, one that is particularly disheartening, you may consider bailing.

You: “If you’re lucky I might invite you.”

Girl: “No thanks.”

You: “Ok. See ya.”

A good player knows when to cut his losses.

However, if you see an opening and want to continue working on her, AGREE AND REDIRECT.

You: “If you’re lucky I might invite you.”

Girl: “No thanks.”

You: “Yeah, come to think of it, it’s probably better you don’t come. My ex might start a fight with you.”

OR

You: “Well, I suppose now I can make room for my Mom to come with me.”

OR

You: [fake look of indignation] “Invite… REVOKED.”

OR

You: “Great, now who am I gonna set up my friend with?”

OR

You: “Damn, I guess I’ll have to buy my own drinks.”

This has been an introductory course in DQs and sidestepping DQ nukes. The subject material is advanced, so I encourage the commenters to flesh it out for the 1 billion readers who are hanging on your every word.

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Universal Logo Of The Feminized Male

Yet again I bore horrible witness to one of those vegetable lasagnas wearing a “This is what a feminist looks like” t-shirt. This specimen was particularly nauseating, owing to the noodled form he assumed slumped in a seated position with legs crossed, bent over at the waist as if straining to empty his bowels. No, if it were only so; had he pipetted a rabbit pellet into his skinny jeans that would have been more masculine than the real reason for his neutered posture: leaning in to hang on every word a tatted, obese woman was orating regarding the glory of Aaron Sorkin’s new libcrack show, “The Soapboxroom”.

Christ, what a spectacle.

This peculiar, penis-smooshing posture — one I see an increasing number of “males” performing uncoerced — is truly the eunuch’s mark of self-denial. It is the body language of the beta male veering into the omega dreg. It is the guilt stigmata of the man who is uncomfortable with the insouciant protrusion of his genitalia, who wishes on some Freudian level he were a girl, and who has somehow convinced himself his excitable self-flagellation is the stuff of women’s fantasies.

With this in mind, I hereby propose the universal logo of the feminized Western Male:

If someone could crop this and zoom in, that would be great. Better yet, if someone could find a human version of the above pose, with one hand propped under chin, eyes watery with intense listening, even better. Nothing quite captures the essence of the de-balled 21st Century Western male better than this sitting pose, imo.

I don’t always sit, but when I do, I sit like a boss.

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Wayne Elise, Pacing, And Conversational Context

Wayne Elise, aka Juggler, is a fairly well-known and well-regarded pickup artist. He’s been in the business for a while, and his game guides, while occasionally derivative, are grounded in the basic reality of male-female psychosocial sex differences and thus useful to aspiring womanizers. He emphasizes the “warmth & connection” part of seduction, but tends to engage in a little too much PUA strawman bashing (probably in order to attract a wider audience). I, for one, am getting tired of reading “evolved” pickup artists caricature the neg with the same ignorant glee that feminists do.

Quibbles aside, he has some good insights, and this post at his blog exemplifies that. I’ll examine it here because his analogy of seduction to letting out a “rope of personal history” is very good, and a lesson that a lot of newbs would be wise to take into account.

Imagine a stranger next to you. They reach out and take the end of your rope from you. They begin reeling it into their arms. So long as you allow it, the rope passes from the floor around your feet, through your hands and collects in the arms of this other person.

This is the beginning of someone getting to know you. The details they learn about you in the first few minutes may be give-aways such as your taste in high-fidelity stereo speakers and the fact that your mouth goes crooked when you smile. But soon they could be exposed to a slice of your dead-kitten sense of humor. Then later it could be your feeling toward relationships. Eventually it could be your sexual preferences. And on and on.

Through this process of information transfer, you stop feeling like a stranger to the other person. You begin to feel like a friend or potential lover.

This is an artsy reinterpretation of the comfort stage of Mystery’s Attraction => Comfort => Seduction three-stage process. Women feel attraction for the aloof alpha, but they also feel more bonded — and hence more open to sexual surrender — to men with whom they have mutually shared personal information. The details of a life are the building blocks of a woman’s romantic imagination.

Now, of course, you can boldly lie about your details if you’d like, but unless you are a clinical sociopath you’ll find it easier to remain internally consistent and externally congruent if you don’t deviate too far from your real life history. This goes double if you plan to stick with a girl for longer than three months.

A reader may reasonably ask, “How do you reconcile women’s love for aloof alphas with their love for ‘getting to know each other’?”

The answer is in the conversational tension, as Elise says.

People won’t appreciate learning about your life-details if you just give them up. That would make you sort of a life-detail slut. […]

People appreciate hearing the amazing things you have to say more if they desire them first. Don’t push. Instead, counterintuitively, you should resist.

Returning to our metaphor. You want to keep your conversational partner in a state of wanting more – pulling on your rope, sort of speak. While, at the same time, YOU want to be in a state of resistance – keeping the length of rope between the two of you taunt. This tension gives you control over the transfer of your life-details.

What Elise is describing here are the classic pickup techniques known as “assuming the sale”, (i.e., this chick wants to know me better, so I’m gonna hold out until she’s throwing money at me to buy my product), and “pacing” (i.e., cat string theory; cats respond more enthusiastically to string that is being pulled away from them). There is a broader category heading that all of this could be put under: Overconfidence.

People may not consciously be aware of pacing but they respond to it.

Pacing that’s too fast deflates the tension out of an interaction. Imagine throwing all your rope into someone’s arms. There’s no more for them to want or seek.

But pacing that’s too slow makes people feel bored and as if the interaction isn’t going anywhere.

Knowing the balance only comes with real-world practice. Generally, the balance will be the same for most women you meet because women, like men, share generalizable psychological properties with their sex.

Elise offers an example of good conversational pacing (and also some good shit test passing):

PUA: “That was a famous tennis player,” he adds. “He – got – mad – at – people. Probably before your time. I was just trying to guess your age.”

PREY: “How old do you think?”

“I’m afraid I can’t answer that question.”

“Why can’t you answer that question?”

“Because if I do then all the tension will leave the conversation. As it stands, you want to know my guess and if I give that up I’ll lose your interest.”

“I promise you won’t lose my interest.”

“Fine. But first, let’s sit down and make ourselves a bit more comfortable, if that’s alright. Then I’ll tell you all about yourself. I’ve been told I have an intuitive nature.”

They sit down on the couch nearby.

“Where are your friends? Perhaps they should join us.”

“Don’t worry about them. I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”

“I bet you can. Okay, I think you’re twenty eight.”

She hits him in the shoulder.

“Okay. Twenty six?”

“You’re really bad at this.”

“I know. My credentials might have been over-stated.”

“How about you? How old are you?”

“Older than you. Let’s just put it this way. I’m your real father. I remember your mom. She was hot back in the 80′s.”

“She still’s hot.”

“I’m sure she is. People of any age can be sexy. [ed: female ego bait. the purpose of these pretty lie pebbles is to lull the woman into a state of reception to the man’s sexy taboo-breaking.] But personally I end up dating girls who are uh…”

“What?”

“Younger, mostly.”

“Why do you do that?”

“Well, there’s a long answer to that question and a short answer.”

“What’s the short answer?”

“They’re hotter.”

“Okay, what’s the long answer.”

“I can’t really tell you. I’d have to show you.”

This is a textbook exhibition of flirting aka pacing. Women love this sort of “pulling teeth” kind of conversation because it signals to their hindbrains that the man engaging in it is not seeking their approval. And a man who is not interested in a woman’s approval is regarded by her evolved alpha male-detection cortical system as a man who likely gets plenty of female attention, and thus possesses the genes that would give her potential sons with him the same advantageous mating market genes.

Elise also illustrates bad conversational pacing with this example:

GAME NOOB: “I ride a fixie. Want to see my fixie porn?”

GIRL: “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Look. I didn’t ask to know anything about you. Perhaps you can hold some thoughts back.”

“I could. But I’m not going to. I’m an all out there kinda guy. I’m going to this fab party later. If you’re lucky I might invite you.”

“No thanks.”

“Aww. You’re playing hard to get. That’s so cute.”

“Whatever.”

“I hear an accent. Where are you from?”

“Nowhere.”

“Ha. Nowhere. That’s funny. Can I buy you a drink?”

“Yes. I’ll take a piña colada but don’t even think about dropping a roofie in there. I’m not going to hook up with you.”

“Whoever said anything about hooking up? You’re more of the kinda girl I see as a friend.”

“Good.”

“Good. So what’s your name?”

Elise takes some gratuitous shots here at well-worn PUA disqualification lines (“You’re more of the kinda girl that I see as a friend”), but his overall point is that bad pacing — that is, giving away the store — can render otherwise effective PUA lines like “That’s so cute” embarrassingly try-hard and pathetically transparent.

The difference between a sour grapes disqualification and a cool-as-fuck disqualification is timing. When you’re chasing — when you’re on the losing end of a pickup attempt — your DQs will be perceived by her as spiteful sour grapes. When you’re being chased — when you have pickup hand — she will perceive your DQs as challenges and redouble her efforts to win your grudging approval.

Which, I believe, really gets at the core of why game-haters and feminists and traditionalist pedestalizers have found it easy to lampoon certain aspects of game philosophy. Yes, the neg is very easy to make fun of when you put it in the mouth of a generic, socially awkward noob, like Elise has done above, who practically assaults a woman with approval-seeking behavior and regurgitated PUA lines delivered with pressing urgency at the wrong times. But put the neg in the mouth of an accomplished seducer who understands the value of teasing women with crumbs of information, and of pulling back at just the right moments, and suddenly that same neg is explosive pussy dynamite.

All great philosophies and theories of the mind throughout history have had their old guard detractors who latched onto digestible concepts that offered possibilities of being distilled into simplistic caricatures and thus made meaningless outside of their philosophical and practical context. To this day, the neg continues to be mistakenly thought of as a brazen insult by the prestige press and their manboobed and feminist lackeys, and there seems to be no let-up to their determination to remain unschooled hicks in matters of seduction.

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1. A book (or two!). (Pending defeat of personal laziness demons.)

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