Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Archive for 2012

Yes, not only is feminism drawing mustachios on our women, turning them into pale facsimiles of men, the grimy loser ideology is also fattening Americans up for the pig roast. How so, you ask?

The obvious mechanism is through the concerted propaganda effort to elevate deviancy to a sainted virtue, and taint normalcy by reducing it to just another lifestyle choice. The growing (heh) fat acceptance movement is one such example of this emergent social experiment. Platitudes (“we’re all beautiful in our own way”) and shibboleths (“real women have curves!”) and outright lies (“men are culturally conditioned to prefer thin women”) are the feminist’s tools of the trade. All delivered in the dulcet tones of a screeching hyena.

But there’s another, more insidious, reason why feminism bears a heavy debt of responsibility for the American obesity epidemic: by haranguing women to enter the workforce, they encouraged them to leave the homeforce in droves. This mass exodus from the home resulted in fewer healthy, home-cooked meals for the family and more processed, high sugar, high GI insta-feed from the supermarket shelves and fast food reheateries as a substitute.

Mangan details this in his excellent post about supernormal stimuli:

And why do we eat fast food and sugar-laden food more now? The causes are complex, but do concern our political and social environment. I think that feminism, with all its attendant fallout, especially the entrance of women into the workplace, is one of the main social causes of the obesity epidemic. Because so many women work outside the home, the substitution of restaurant and convenience food for home-cooked meals has come to seem necessary for many people. These foods are precisely those that have greater reward value, and that is precisely because modern industrial food manufacturers have designed them to be so.

You want to reframe the national discourse so that feminism is killed dead before it has a chance to infect the next generation of hosts? Just tell a woman about to embark on a contorted feminist line of reasoning that feminism makes people fat. If you want to win hearts and minds, you’ve gotta hit ’em where it matters. And for women, it matters most in the size of their figures.

Read Full Post »

Reader James has a game-related question:

Hey Heartiste I’ve got a question. What do you make of this:

On a couple of occasions I had college age girls strike up conversation with me by telling me I looked like someone they knew. In a third occasion I just recalled while writing this, another college girl struck up a conversation with me while waiting in line at the grocery store by claiming I looked like Kevin Smith of Silent Bob fame (in all three scenarios I was overweight and in all likelihood sporting a homeless person style beard since I was too lazy to shave. I’m also pretty tall, a bit over 6′, but physically that was likely my only positive trait.) whom she was a huge fan of. In one of the bus cases, the girl was telling her fat friend she needed a boyfriend because she was stressed and wanted to “blow off some steam”, and she must know I heard the conversation since they were only a meter or two away from me. Grocery store chick was standard issue swpl, 6-7 by most men’s standards I would estimate. Blow some steam girl was pretty hot, probably an 8. Second bus girl looked similar to grocery store girl, only she had short hair (huge turn-off) so I can’t give her more than a 5.

I figure they were all lame pick-up attempts, but who the fuck tries to pick up a guy who looks like a hobo? so I’m gonna ask some of the experts for a second opinion.

Fame is such a powerful aphrodisiac for women that even the flimsiest simulacrum of it can redound beneficially to a man. Yes, if you look like a famous dude, no matter how physically repulsive that famous dude is in real life, you can score pussy off of your gift. Sometimes this works despite the girl knowing you’re a lookalike.

Kevin Smith may look like a hobo, but he’s famous, and chicks will spread for all sorts of famous men, no matter how dirty, ugly or smelly they are. (The same is not true for men, as demonstrated by the professed romantic travails of ugly Hollywood actresses who don’t get anywhere near the lustful attentions that ugly Hollywood actors get.)

You’ve never seen a woman’s rationalization hamster spin its wheel so fast than when the roided-up rodent is giving a presentation to the Figurehead Ego in the corner cortex trying to convince him that the vehicular meat unit ensconcing both of them needs this ugly, unhygienic, drug-addicted famous guy’s seed pronto.

Figurehead Ego: He’s only interested in a one night stand.

Hamster: We can win him over. And it’ll feel better than that five year grind we had with Bob from accounting.

Figurehead Ego: We’re just a groupie to him, like all the others.

Hamster: We’re not like all the others. Look at how he smiles at us.

Figurehead Ego: He’s going to forget us before the morning is over.

Hamster: We can beat the morning odds with a well-timed home-cooked breakfast. We’ll be unforgettable.

Figurehead Ego: Did you read in the tabloids how he had a different girl on his arm last week?

Hamster: You can’t believe everything the tabloids say.

Figurehead: And how he was in a group orgy with Victoria’s Secret supermodels on his birthday?

Hamster: Mere rumors. Anyhow, those girls are sluts.

Figurehead: And how he got married in a private ceremony last month?

Hamster: He doesn’t love her.

Figurehead Ego: And how he cheated on his wife?

Hamster: Open relationship. Don’t you just love honest men?

Figurehead Ego: And he punched a homeless guy in the nose?

Hamster: He was probably asking for it. Those bums can get pushy.

Figurehead: Ok, but what about his drug addictions?

Hamster: He’s a tortured soul.

Figurehead Ego: His run-ins with the law?

Hamster: His passion sometimes gets the better of him.

Figurehead Ego: The facial contusions he gave to his ex-girlfriend?

Hamster: Oh god.

Figurehead Ego: What?

Hamster: I just tingled.

Figurehead Ego: Yeah, I could feel that seismic shift all the way up here. What about the shit smell emanating from the seat of his pants?

Hamster: I don’t smell anything. But if I do smell something wafting delightfully under my nose, it must be his musky cologne. More men should be so confident to wear such unapologetically masculine scents.

Figurehead Ego: And the flies buzzing around his head? It looks like he hasn’t bathed in a month.

Hamster: He’s in touch with nature.

Figurehead Ego: And the yellow stains in the pits of his t-shirt?

Hamster: He doesn’t care what people think of him. So sexy!

Figurehead Ego: He just farted in front of you.

Hamster: Authenticity.

Figurehead Ego: And I suppose you’re Ok with the log he left in the toilet.

Hamster: It looks like Jesus.

Figurehead Ego: Or that he’s a D-lister who hasn’t had a profitable hit in ten years.

Hamster: He’s FAMOUS. Didn’t you see the TMZ photo of him pissing on the front steps of that rape crisis center?

Figurehead Ego: Or that he’s going absolutely nowhere in life.

Hamster: But I love him.

Figurehead Ego: And his dick is rumored to be small…

Hamster: It’s all I need.

Figurehead Ego: …and he’ll come in two seconds.

Hamster: I’ll come in one second.

Figurehead: And you can forget about post-coital cuddling.

Hamster: Not when he sees what a catch I am. He’ll hold me forever and ever and never let go.

Figurehead Ego: You tired yet?

Hamster: NOPE.

Figurehead Ego: Look, let me put this to you straight. He’s going to use you as a convenient hole to get his rocks off. He will demand ass privileges (something, need I remind you, you haven’t given to any man before, even your ex-husband) and you will get nothing you want in return. He will, if the drugs don’t first kill his erection, face fuck you until you’re gagging and tasting hot tears. He will then kick you out of his hotel room, with perhaps an autographed pillow mint as a consolation prize. He’s not going to call you back. He’s not going to take your calls. He will pretend he never knew you when people ask. He doesn’t love you, he never will love you, and he will never marry you, buy you a house, or (knowingly) have children with you. In fact, it’s very likely he will despise you approximately fifteen seconds after he has unceremoniously deposited his demon seed in your ululating vagina. Afterwards, men you actually have a decent shot at winning commitment from will hear of your slutty reputation and avoid you like the plague. There is nothing in the world you can do to alter this guaranteed outcome. Second thoughts?

Hamster: Aren’t these garden flowers pretty?

Figurehead Ego: I give up.

Hamster: OMG, he’s pointing at me. And now he’s pointing at his crotch. *SWOON*

***

So here’s my suggestion to you, reader, the next time a girl mistakes you for Kevin Smith. Run with it. What’s that, you say? You’re ethical? Tough shit. Go home and play with your Epictetus.

Read Full Post »

I’ve always wondered how much database integrity online dating websites maintain. It would be very easy for an insider with a grudge or a boner to do the metaphorical equivalent of downvoting any one particular user’s profile. Now a reader writes to fuel my suspicions:

An ex of mine, who is/was merely an active OkCupid user, once gloated to me that she was given administrator access, ability, and privilege at the site, simply for being a cool femme type. Of course our side doesn’t get gifted with such love.

Her suggestion was that, if I ever got back on after we broke up and started scoring poon again, she could look in on me and invent ways to harass me.

Worthwhile intel for the Chateau. Wonder how pervasive that sort of thing is.

I can believe this. Imagine the hard-up nerdlings that code and administer dating sites. One of their cute babe customers gets in contact with the denizens of the IT deep. Falling over themselves with glee at having secured the (faked) attention of a non-fat whale for once in their lives, and recognizing the awesome power they wield within their manboobed, pinched milieu, they’d probably bend over backwards faster than a prepubescent Chinese gymnast to shower her with Gifts of the Honorary Vagi, which would include supersecret access to all sorts of supposedly well-guarded user data. Never underestimate the rapidity with which an undersexed nerd will give away the farm and betray his principles for a cute girl with a flirty vibe.

So, is it pervasive? Who knows. Is it probable? Yeah.

Online dating is really a shit show for (non-gaming) men. Besides the back room subterfuge and the cosmically awful ratio of men to women, you also have to deal with blowback effects from profiles that stay up after you’ve met and banged a girl. Why would a man feel like putting time and effort into a girl he’s banged when he sees her continuing to log into her profile? Online dating may streamline meeting girls feeding girls attention, but it also undermines investing in them. It’s the perfect vehicle to distribute the products of the 21st century mating market.

While online dating websites are not my go-to sexonomy, there are ways to sufficiently exploit their information asymmetries and competitor contrast opportunities to get laid fairly regularly off of them. Reader “A. Veidt” offers an example:

I’m a skeptic of “online dating” (even the term is a contradiction: dates do not happen outside of tactile range), mostly because I think chicks lie in their close-cropped five-year-old profile pictures. But I also go where the pussy is, and increasingly, it’s possible to find some decent women on free sites like OKCupid. And anyway, sometimes I’m bored at work.

The key to getting a decent return on investment is to invest as little as humanly possible in any one girl until you’ve got a phone number and a firm commitment for a time to meet up (in your neighborhood, somewhere quiet and cheap). Girls on these sites get ridiculous numbers of messages, and I’m convinced that’s why many otherwise sort-of-attractive women (who surely don’t need okcupid to get men) sign up: they love the one-way, no-commitment flow of attention. Log in once a week, read your adoring fanboy mail, and log off without answering any of it. What could be better? It’s like having a Dial-a-Beta.

As a consequence, messaging girls with the standard shit is a waste of time. “Hey, you like Perks of Being a Wallflower? Me too!” Give me a break. They’ve heard it all before: every piece of information in their profile has been used by some sad sack to try and open them. So, instead, I wrote a stock opener that I use on literally everyone. It saves time. Log in for five minutes a day, paste this to five chicks you think are interesting, and move on with your life. Plus, it’s unusual, so it might knock an attention-seeker off her pedestal and get her to (even though she hadn’t planned on it) actually write back. Here it is:

SUBJ: the bet

“so, obviously you’re aesthetically interesting, but a buddy of mine was looking over my shoulder just now and claimed that – without a doubt – your profile was written by a guy; he says any profile with so little information makes him suspicious.  [EDITOR’S NOTE: change the part after the semicolon as needed. it doesn’t matter what it actually says. don’t make it complimentary, and don’t get specific. if it’s a confusing non sequitur, so much the better. run, hamster, run.]

he claimed that there were a million dead giveaways. I came to your defense, of course, but it got a little out of hand and now we’ve got a $20 bet going as to whether or not you’re really a girl. so, just between you and me, am I about to lose $20?”

It seems retarded to me, but it keeps working. I think girls love the unusual nature of the accusation and relish the chance to prove themselves; they like the framing of a guy who’s hanging out with his friends and not sitting around lonely at home; and, of course, it’s a neg. That’s why it’s important not to compliment her except in the most oblique and ambiguous way (“aesthetically interesting”—you may have to tone this down for the stupider chicks. sometimes I use “interesting looking.” don’t say pretty.)

I sent that message verbatim to a girl today and got the following response back within hours:

“Without a doubt, more than anything I know, I am 100% female. My profile was written by me, sincere and honest.

Meaning, if this bet is real, your friend lost $20 and you should take me out for a drink with your winnings.

:)”

I have gotten this response back close to verbatim many times. “I’m a girl! Tee hee! Use your winnings to take me out!” After this, game as normal; get her phone number, meet up within a couple of days, and treat her like any other chick. (Which means, don’t actually start serving up drinks from your fictitious winnings, of course. You would, but you lost that $20 back to your buddy—it’s sort of an interesting story actually . . .)

(Two pics of the girl, who’s 23, are attached; I’d ask that you not use them on the site, but I figured you need some way to judge personally whether this just works on fatties and uglos.) [ed: the chick is a cute, slender blonde.]

Anyway, I don’t want to see the world oversaturated with this opener, but there are so many retards on OKCupid that I don’t think it’ll be a problem. Girls join the site every day and leave just as regularly; there’s always fresh blood. Plus, after biting Style’s material for years, I figure I should give back when I stumble upon something that works.

Any Chateau readers out there have similar low-investment, high-yield material for sorting through the bullshit on online sites?

The floor is open. I believe there are online game techniques in the archives of this blog as well. FYI, I’ve used the “are you really a girl?” line once on a girl I was picking up through a dating website. It wasn’t calculated game so much as a glib throwaway joke at her expense, but she did respond with glitter and confetti popping out of her vagina. Chicks love having to prove themselves to men. When they are in the defensive crouch answering your challenge, your perceived value experiences a passive rise. That’s because girls will appraise men to whom they have qualified themselves as necessarily being worthy of their sycophancy.

Read Full Post »

There’s been a trend lately of books by feminist authors writing about boys and their problems. Seems the impact of declining fortunes for boys (in the feminist dominated West) is beginning to penetrate the blocklike skulls of the cuntiscenti. Does this mean the formerly delusional are finally powering down the furry hamster deflector shields protecting their fragile grrlpower egos? Eh, not so fast. Reading the excerpts and reviews of these tomes of deeply shallow thought quickly reveals that the feminist propaganda machine is still churning out man-hating boilerplate at maximum capacity. The only difference is that the shrieking stridency has been replaced by soft-pedaled coos of subterfuge.

Case in point: a new book by self-described feminist Lisa Bloom. From the introduction:

At this very moment, through no fault of their own, our boys are caught in the vortex of four powerful, insidious, often invisible forces that conspire to rob them of their future.

The first line sounds promising so far. A realtalking sister? Pfft. Please. Check your hopefulness at the door. If you need to know one thing about bitches who write books about boys, it’s that they are constitutionally incapable of tackling the shortcomings of their own sex and the detrimental policies advocated by their mouthpieces. Which will be demonstrated below, as you find out fast how easily Bloom slips into, in so many words, the phonyfuck talk of “what boys need is more feminism and de-masculinizing reprogramming”.

First, our heartbreakingly subpar schools. To say that twenty-first-century America doesn’t value education is like saying Donald Trump doesn’t prioritize humility. Class sizes grow, as kids sit on the floor or are crammed into “temporary” classrooms in hallways or bathrooms. School buildings crumble, leak, and emit toxic fumes.

Lie number one. The US is third among countries for amount spent per pupil. When you break it out by race, you find that American white students can compete with the best of them from Europe. The truth that mass market dreckmeisters like Bloom won’t touch?: The students, not the schools, are the problem.

I didn’t read anything in this wordy excerpt about Title IX causing the closure of many men’s sports programs to cater to girls who have less inclination to play sports. I didn’t read about the glorification of girls’ self-esteem and the demonization of boys’ unique characteristics. Not a word about the decades-long push to force naturally unenthusiastic girls into boys’ STEM subjects. Or all the freebies, gimmedats, affirmative action and social support networks, built up over generations by dykish feminists, available to girls that boys, especially white boys, are barred from exploiting.

In 1992 presidential candidate Ross Perot warned of the giant sucking sound we’d hear if the North American Free Trade Agreement passed, sending American jobs to Mexico, but even Perot could not have imagined the gargantuan vacuum created when millions of American manufacturing jobs were siphoned off to China, India, and elsewhere. Those jobs are now extinct in America. The giant sucking sound turned out to be a muted, steady bleed-out of the blue-collar male work force.

Not a word about uninvited mass migration from Latin America placing downward pressure on blue collar wages, except to crow in Ellis Island-ese about immigrant moxie. How much you want to bet this schoolmarm is all for open borders?

As they are negotiating their way through our miserable schools and jobless economy, our popular culture—the third soul-leeching, invisible force—seduces our boys with flashy, loud messages that manhood equals macho bravado, emotional numbness, ignorance, and thugdom.

Boy stuff bad. Girl stuff good. Let’s make our boys deferential betas, emotional sissies, well-read critics of feminist lit and THUPER THENTHITIVE Iron Johns. Strangely, not a peep from Bloom about the blame due all those single moms squirting out the tidal wave of unmanageable orclings.

“I got mushrooms, I got acid, I got tabs,” raps Eminem, idol to many boys, “I’m your brother when you need some new weed . . . I’m your friend.”

“I kissed a girl” — Katy Perry. “And I liked it” — Lisa Bloom

There is one road for boys who don’t overcome their failing schools, who aren’t exceptional enough to find a job where there is none, who absorb the message that real men express anger via gun violence or who use or sell drugs to escape or to make a few bucks, and that road has one dead-end terminus: our ever-expanding, bursting-to-the-seams prisons.

Lie number two. I’m going to call Bloom out for this even though I’m too lazy to scour for the relevant data. I bet if you break out incarceration rates by race, you’ll find again that the rate for white Americans compares favorably with Europeans. Or at least the difference isn’t so stark. I don’t have a beef with reforming the prison system so that fewer nonviolent offenders like pot smokers are locked up, but to imply that the nation’s boys would be better off if more thugs were released into public circulation is the height of non-sequitur stupidity.

More relevantly, Bloom could talk about reducing prison rape, which is a REAL black stain on America’s moral standing. But then she’d have to turn in her feminist bona fides and admit that more men than women are victims of rape. And we can’t have that, what with RAAAAPE cries being such a useful fundraiser for the man-hating dyke brigade.

We may be the last country on the planet to lock up juveniles—overwhelmingly boys—for life-without-parole sentences for crimes committed when they were minors.

Another sterling contribution from America’s single moms! Rebuttal, Mzz Bloom? *crickets*

But there is a great deal we as parents can do at little or no cost to give our boys the advantages they need right now to jack up their odds of finishing high school, going to college, and leading a decent, free life in which they can not only support a family but also contribute to their communities.

Lie number three. Not everyone is cognitively capable of succeeding at college. In fact, the number of boys who could handle college life is only around 25% of the population, and likely less than that. If your premise starts and finishes with college attendance, your policy and your good intentions will fail.

Why is this book about boys rather than all our kids—boys and girls? Shouldn’t we be concerned about girls’ literacy, for example, and making sure that they too stay in school, fend off negative cultural messages, and become adults who find productive work so that they can support their families too?

Hell, yes, we should!

So certain are you? Female economic empowerment has rendered large swaths of working class men unattractive to women who can support themselves. A truly insightful thinker would ask if getting women out of the workforce might actually improve men’s employment prospects *and* their willingness to settle down and support a family for whose welfare they would then exercise a great responsibility.

As I said all along, the problem of American ignorance applies equally to both genders. The distractions may be different (girls: Real Housewives, TMZ; guys: ESPN,Call of Duty),

Notice how this slippery eel conflates sports with celebrity worship, as if they were equal vices.

but the lack of focus, the disconnection, is the same. (In fact, I can now report that it may be even worse for guys, as we shall see throughout this book.)

You’d think it would kill her to use the term “men” instead of “guys”. But, hey, that would get in the way of her work building up boys’ self-esteem.

At my speaking events around the country, parents would talk to me about the challenges of raising girls, but they would also tell me about the problems they were having with their sons: falling behind in school; addiction to video games; inability to communicate socially; music, TV, and films that encourage boys to become macho jerks; how hard it was for them to get their son to pick up a book.

Maybe because the books available to boys are feminized schlock? I mean, has this broad seen a typical English class high school multicult reading list lately? What boy could take pride in reading the sniveling guano of grievance mongers and slam poetesses?

Is everything a bright-line gender issue? Of course not. But there is no getting around facts like the beauty industry markets almost entirely to women (and its incessant ads make us feel ugly and flawed), and Grand Theft Auto is overwhelmingly played by boys (and depicts for them a manhood defined by fighting, guns and violence).

Lie number four. The culture does not create innate sex predilections; it reflects and amplifies them. Sex differences are real, hard-wired, and exist from the moment of birth. You do boys no service by telling them their preferences are pathological and forcing them into learning tracks that turn them away from their natures.

Gender still marks so much of how the world approaches us. (To those who break out of traditional gender molds, I salute you.)

Part of the problem is that too many men and women are breaking out of “traditional gender molds”. But such crimethought would require a less reflexive compulsion to supplant substance with shibboleth.

So a quick note about generalizations: as a lifelong feminist (my dad used to say I needed “consciousness lowering”), I bristle at gender stereotypes—false claims made about an entire group. “Women are lousy drivers.” “Men are better with money.” Uh, no. Statistically speaking, the reverse of each of those statements is true, as we shall see.

Lie number five. Women really are worse drivers than men. And where men suffer more traffic fatalities, women get into more nonfatal crashes. “As we shall see”, indeed.

That “Uh, no” is a dead giveaway of femcuntery. It’s right up there with the “Wow, just wow” faux shock moral indignation that lefties burp out when they hear a taboo truth uttered stone cold straight instead of draped in euphemestic SWPLcode. “Uh, no, I will not allow that obviously true generalization about the sexes to soil acceptable discourse.” “Wow, just wow, I can’t believe you said something I secretly believe is true but will never say because I’m too desperately needy to risk the loss of empty status points and invites to cocktail parties.”

I don’t care how much a feminist claims to have the best interest of boys in heart, if she immediately reverts to “uh, no” close-minded feminist shorthand, you can expect a cascade of 500+ pages of steaming bullshit coming your way.

Sadly, every day assumptions are still made about individual women and men based on sexist stereotypes, ignoring individual talents and merit. A woman is perceived as “softer,” less promotable, and less of a leader simply because of her gender. A man is told he wouldn’t be as good at caring for children because “women are naturally better caregivers.” Pernicious biases restrict individuals from demonstrating their own unique gifts, training, and skills.

The war against pattern recognition marches onward. You’ll know the enemy is sensing defeat when they start reaching for the nuke button.

I do not traffic in gender stereotypes, I assure you.

I really don’t think you have to assure us. You’ve made you inability to grapple with this issue in an original and impartial manner very clear.

I simply follow the research to see what it tells us about girls and boys, women and men, and report it to you straight.

The five lies above, all within your book’s introduction, say otherwise.

When I found a small but statistically insignificant bit of information, I left it out.

Translation: “All that nasty research proving the existence of innate sex differences? Yeah, you don’t need to upset yourself with that boy stuff.”

And naturally, every child is different. Even in our thuggish, hypermacho culture, there are boys who are gentle, who love art and theater and dance, who are kind and compassionate.

And finally we get to the crux of her campaign to save our boys. She wants to turn them gay. The more gay/girly our boys get, the better for our gloriously feminist society!

In our failing schools there are boys who read Shakespeare on their own and check out ten library books at a time.

No thanks to feminists.

Despite the drumbeat of bad news for minorities, I met Latino and African American boys in East Harlem who are beating the private school kids in advanced robotics competitions.

Pending “Lie number six” designation, I’m gonna need to see a cite for this extraordinary claim.

Although particular cultural pressures are at play for boys generally, your son—every boy—is unique and deserves to be loved and approached as he is.

Even the serial killers who get tons of love letters from admiring women?

He’s not a statistic; he’s one-of-a-kind. Of course. I get that. I have a son too.

“And so therefore I am qualified to write about the entire population of boys.”

The real lesson of “Swagger” is this: How do dumbass, lying feminists continue getting books published?

Oh yeah. The publishing industry is filled with women and gays. Maybe it could use a little more diversity on staff, like, say, straight men.

Read Full Post »

There are many “tells” women have that, unbeknownst to them, signal to the men they are dating their worthiness as long-term investments. The tell number could very well be in the thousands, and, yes ladies, we men are attuned to all of them, in greater or lesser perspicacity, and with conscious awareness or, more often and more insidiously, with subconscious awareness.

But there’s value in narrowing the list to the top three tells, and clarifying them for the less experienced men (betas) so that they are armed with the foreknowledge to actively avoid those women who would make bad girlfriends or wives. An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cuckoldry.

So here they are: The top three girlfriend material qualities, in no particular order.

1. She exercised and ate healthily before she met you, and she continues to do so after you start dating her seriously.

Marriage counselors and platitudinal couples therapists can stow their poppycock psychology aka feminist fantasy books. The biggest warning sign that a relationship is about to fail is the growing size of the woman. The fatter and more shapeless she gets, the more her man’s eyes will wander, his empathy will wither, and his heart will shut down. A girl who has spent years cultivating good lifestyle habits that ensure she retains her slender, hourglass figure for as long as possible is a girl who, on a fundamental emotional level, respects men’s needs and seeks to fulfill them. Feminists and assorted broken cunts don’t care about their appearance because they loathe male desire. That is why they are so unpleasant to be around for longer than it takes to deliver a hate-fueled hot jizz payload.

A woman who works to stay as good-looking as she can within the constraints of her genetic endowment is signaling that she has a generous heart and a magnanimous soul. The care with which she comports herself will spill over into care for your well-being and support for your aspirations.

2. She rarely disparages her girl friends or snipes about their flaws behind their backs.

The girl who is forgiving of her friends’ flaws, who does not feel a compulsion to privately tear them down in order to lift herself up, is a rare jewel indeed, for the natural proclivity of The Woman™ is to backbite, snark and gossip about female competitors, real and imagined, until her ego tank is filled to brimming again. What care should men have about this peculiar trait of the unfairer sex? I’ll tell you. If she’s quick and all too enthusiastic to trash her friends in private, she’ll be quick and all too enthusiastic to demean your manhood in the privacy of her mind. And once she’s gone down that road, the mental demeaning begins its twisted manifestation into nagging and sex withdrawal. Unlike a man with a vendetta, a judgmental bitch has a scattershot target designator; don’t be surprised if one day her gun of ingratitude is aimed directly at you.

However, expecting a girl to be nonjudgmental at all times is unrealistic. Women are born with the neural roadmap to gossip because it aids their sex in maximizing resources for their (eventual) families. But we can draw lines between women who occasionally indulge this instinct and women who wallow in it like a pig in mud. When you’re with your date, is she constantly running down her supposed BFFs? Does her face light up when an opportunity presents to sneer about a friend’s recent nose job? Beware, because you are staring at the dark heart of borderline personality disorder and unfettered narcissism, the latter a characteristic that is particularly galling and self-immolating in women when taken to unhealthy extremes.

A girl who is patient with and tolerant of her friends will extend the same to you. This then is an excellent foundation upon which to build a relationship that will have to, necessarily due to the nature of two parties with competing reproductive goals, navigate shoals in the future. A girl like this will also be more tolerant of your manly desire, and, instead of cutting down her competition, will work on herself so that she can compete with the best of them for your love.

3. She has not had many past lovers, and she is not a constitutional flirt who will invite the temptation of more lovers.

Lovefacts to make a feminist’s vagina explode angrily in a shower of dustballs: The more partners a woman has had, the more likely she is to divorce you. Sluts really are bad long-term prospects for men. They are great lays, but they are bad ideas as girlfriends or wives. So be on the lookout today for any and all slut tells a girl will reveal in the course of dating her. It could save you a divorce theft tomorrow.

But it’s not always easy to unearth a woman’s sordid past (rule of thumb: your working assumption should be that her past is more sordid than it is modest). So you have to rely on other, more immediate cues of future unfaithful whorishness. That’s where a keen eye for her propensity to switch on a dime into flirt mode will serve you well. Constitutional flirts, aka eternal ingenues, while fun in the beginning for their sexual promise and alluring coyness, can quickly become stressful headaches within the confines of a relationship. Watch for how effortlessly she can segue from poised girl into seductive flirt when other men are around. Does it come a little *too* naturally for her? Then you, my friend, are playing with vagina fire. A girl who loves to flirt, and indulges frequently with or without you, is a girl who is one private moment in the after hours office meeting room from cheating on you.

Now, personally, I love flirty women. So walking the fine line between enjoying the company of flirts and suffering the crassness of flakes has presented challenges. Obviously, I look for women who moderate their urges to flirt. A girl who generously throws off a flirty vibe that once in a blue moon time because she feels especially good about the way she looks, or because it’s her birthday, is no trouble to dating stability. The girl who flirts with her girlfriend’s boyfriend on a random Wednesday night because, oh, she wants ALL the men’s attention, and burgers are half price, is a girl you should consider fucking and chucking after a few months pretending you’re into her that way.

More importantly, does she direct her flirting to me, or to the world? Some girls just can’t get their attention whore fix without a large audience of men. Other girls, the better ones, are satisfied getting their ego fixes from their lovers alone. If a girl I am dating likes to flirt, but she finds her outlet role playing Seductress Joan with me rather than sidling up like the town courtesan to every meathead with a hungry glare, I bump her to the top of my LTR potential list.

I hope this post is equally informative for the women reading as it is for the men. You ladies have a duty too, if you want to capture the heart of a high value man, and keep it:

Be fit.

Be forgiving.

Don’t be a foul slut.

If you think about it, that’s not asking much compared to the grind that the average man has to endure to claim a single pussy as his own.

Read Full Post »

False Dichotomy Dorks

The list of hater logical fallacies is never ending. I’d have to devote three weeks’ worth of posts to debunk them all. Here’s one that’s particularly blockheaded:

< sperg >
“When you spend all that time chasing skirt, you miss out on the genuine feeling of accomplishing something real as a man.”
< /sperg >

If the either-or presupposition was banned from discourse, I predict half of the haters’ oeuvre would disappear overnight.

Fallacy: There’s nothing about pickup that automatically disqualifies a man from pursuing other interests or goals in his life. Richard Feynman helped create the atom bomb (what have you done lately?) while being a notorious womanizer.

Seducing babes feels great. So does getting a big promotion, creating a work of art, being the life of the party, fixing a motorcycle so it’s purring like a kitten, upgrading a kitchen by the sweat of your own brow, and chopping wood for the fireplace. None of these achievements are mutually exclusive. All of them induce the same powerful feelings of manliness.

All of them, too, are signatures of the alpha male.

Read Full Post »

The perennial underground subject of the nexus where fertility, IQ, education and religion meet gets another go-round on the avant-garde right. You can read a couple of takes here and here. Bottom (literally) line: dysgenics is real, and it’s happening right now.

I have a thought on the issue that I haven’t seen addressed in any of these discussions. Perhaps smarts and dislike of, or cold indifference to, children are intertwined at the genetic level? Hypothesis: The genes that code for smarts also contribute a suite of personality alterations that result in reduced enthusiasm to have kids.

Maybe instead of all these calculated, or emergent, trade-offs accounting for lower fertility among the SWPL class — e.g. more schooling leading to more lost prime fertility years among women — the real reason for the dysgenic trend is that smart people just don’t get as much enjoyment out of kids as dumber people do. As a result, they use the contraceptive tech and cultural memes at their disposal to actively avoid the burden of children, especially when they are younger and the world is full of delights.

Maybe this, too, would explain why there are natural evolutionary limits on selection for high IQ. In small-ish numbers, high IQ confers a group benefit, but in larger numbers high IQ becomes fitness-reducing, if by fitness we restrict ourselves to the gene’s eye view of getting more copies of itself into future generations.

Anyhow, not a sermon, just a thought. My time around smart people, and my observations of their discomfort and/or boredom when in the company of children (particularly the men) leads me to believe they don’t really have a strong internal motivator pushing them in the direction of reproduction. Pushing them in the direction of sex, yes. But thanks to rubbers, the pill, and destigmatization, they are able to thwart the end goal of their genetic programming.

Read Full Post »

« Newer Posts - Older Posts »

%d bloggers like this: