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How is a wounded woman like a wounded animal? PA explains as he hoists the COTW trophy:

A nasty form of red pill involves thoughts of how to act when your woman has been through great trauma, rape or otherwise. A wounded human being is in a shitload of pain, in such cases psychic pain.

They say that you shouldn’t try to comfort a beloved dog that was injured by a car because its pain can cause it to bite you. External-source duress, usually financial, can turn a wife into a bitch.

There was an article a few years after the 9.11 attacks, about a middle aged woman, civilian employee at the Pentagon, who was badly disfigured in the resulting fires and how she copes with life. Her husband (photos from happier days were shown, they were both radiant) had left her after the disfigurement.

I was quick to fault the man for abandoning her. But now I wonder, did he try to ‘be there’ and she pushed him away? I don’t know. In the story she said she is not angry with him.

A man wants to be needed and many of us want to help the few people in our inner circle when they need us. When we were little and got hurt, our moms poured concerned affection on us, and in those recesses of our psyches lies a template for healing another’s pain.

But like the struck dog, does the traumatized woman lash out at those closest to her? Those with the hard task of ‘being there’ have to think about what she really needs. Soft care may not be it.

Yes, this is a deeply dark red pill to swallow. I’ve seen it myself, and I’ve experienced it: The lashing out of the hurt woman against those trying to comfort her. The proper response to the hurt woman is a nod of sympathy and a studied avoidance of getting entangled in her drama other than giving her time to cry it out, (and giving yourself a little distance from her bared claws).

Why is it not uncommon for traumatized women to push away their supportive lovers? It’s a mystery, but my theory is that it has to do with the natural revulsion men and women feel for sex role inversions. The caretaker and the nurturer is the woman; when a man eagerly tries to assume this role, it’s disturbing to women on a primal level. It’s similar to the aggressive career woman barging into a meeting ready to close a big deal. Men may admire her gumption in the abstract, but as a character trait it’s very off-putting to behold in a woman.

Another, related, possibility is the idea that a supportive man, in his readiness to “be there” for a hurt woman, inadvertently “betatizes” himself. He may be perceived less as a shoulder to lean on than as a cloying handmanlet who in his zeal to be helpful winds up reminding the woman of the source of her pain.

Traumatized men do this too, but it seems more common with women. Or perhaps, when it concerns women, it’s more shocking to men who witness it, given the pedestal-contoured presumptions that men hold of women’s receptivity to assistance in times of need.

Maybe there’s a reason why in large parts of the world women who are rape victims are considered sexual persona non grata. Could it be that, underneath the religious or moral justifications, men shun traumatized women because they know, instinctively, that those women will never be “right” as relationship material?

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Commenter blart observes that a girlfriend who has lost interest in keeping up her appearance is probably a girlfriend who has lost interest in her boyfriend:

Many of the girls I’ve gone out with always dressed hot, wore heels, make up for me. When we broke up…they went back to their old frumpy easy-going ways.

Girls like the feeling of working for something or someone…it’s in their nature to do so. Game is the key to unlocking that desire to submit.

this is an important point. a lot of girls get lazy and do the frumpy thing while they are with a guy. they try to say it’s just that they have gotten comfortable and feel accepted and loved by their men. but comfort like that is really just a sign that she’s not concerned with pleasing you anymore. she’s not afraid to lose you and she doesn’t care about your needs or desires.

you don’t want a girl so insecure that she’s freaked out with fear of losing you every day. that’s a nightmare so you have to give them some comfort. but when a girl stops making an effort to look good for you, she is in the power position. she’s either trying to discourage you from making sexual advances because you turn her off or she just doesn’t respect you or see you as a high value man who she needs to work to please. that’s a bad situation either way.

Comfort + Anxiety. Comanxiety. Cuminsideofme? YES.

The art of seduction is about bringing balance to the force. Too much anxiety will corrode a relationship just as assuredly as too much comfort, although the precipitating chemical reactions are different. (CH suggestion: If you must choose between cultivating anxiety or comfort, choose anxiety. The sex will be hotter, at least for the short, dramatic time you have left together. Plus, it’s easier to pull a girlfriend back from the anxiety brink than it is to push her out of a slippers-and-sweatpants sexless comfort bubble.)

Stay alert to those relationship red flags which indicate a woman’s fading love and peripatetic lust. Yes, women want to achieve maximum gravitational comfort within relationships, but women are also strangely their own worst enemies in their quest for eternal love and happiness. Women will work instinctively and incessantly toward neutering and domesticating boyfriends and enlarging their LTR comfort zone until, perplexed and full of resentment, they have lost all desire for their men. It’s up to men to guide women away from the equivalent of lesbian bed death, and they do this by taking the lead in and out of the bedroom, wielding psychological tools that would make Alinsky blush.

Love is a protracted psy ops campaign with generous benefits.

I should point out the exception to Blart’s Rule about the threatening portent of girlfriends abandoning self-beautification efforts. Be equally wary when your woman has a sudden and inexplicable surge of interest in dolling herself up. She might be signaling a desire to reintroduce herself to the wilds of the dating market.

I know this sounds like contradictory advice, but there are critical distinctions. Lust-curdling comfort zone laziness is a pattern that emerges slowly in a woman. You have time to recognize it and take actions to thwart its progression. Lust-activating makeovers that aren’t a direct response to your seductive wiles are severe relationship weather bulletins. This is usually a rapid change that will appear in a woman without much forewarning, sometimes overnight, and seemingly unconnected to any pattern in your own behavior. If you’re a typical boyfriend blob, and your girl starts the day with lipstick smeared in vibrant cherry eddies across her plump lips, something she hadn’t done during the previous two years, you’ve got competition lurking in the shadows of her snapper.

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Hosswire unsheaths (by proxy). The COTW is his reward (or his buddy’s):

A buddy of mine put it so well:

“I kind of feel sorry for women. Imagine if you could only get a hard-on when someone was mean to you.”

A nimble tongue tinged with acid awakens a woman’s libido in the same manner pert tits and a firm ass awakens a man’s.

***

COTW runner-up is trav777:

Whoever said culture matters is an idiot.

Race is not a social construct.

Society is a racial construct.

Beautiful. That last line — “society is a racial construct” — is worth inclusion in the COPROP insurgent field guide.

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head games
it’s you and me baby
head games
and i can’t take it anymore

Reader Nope comments about women playing games:

Amy: “Let’s say I want to make a guy jealous…..”

1. Chicks don’t have to do this. You want him, let him know. Otherwise it’s a cruel game. He’s prolly harboring jealousy anyway but not visibly.
2. Making someone jealous on purpose is toying with them. Fuck that.
3. This is a perfect example of the fundamental differences between men and women. Men HAVE to resort to games, whereas women choose to play games because the regular way just isn’t stimulating enough, they’re bored, whatever.

You wanna make every man in the room wonder WTF? Make yourself up to your hottest, go find the ugliest, nastiest, heaviest dyke you can, and just make out with her in full view. Sweetly reject all male attention (not nuclear), then just before you bounce, abandon your dyke and grab the pointdexter in the corner, then leave together.

Easier just to not fuck with guys’ minds in the first place.

His breathless tone of indignation aside, “Nope” did make a very interesting point about gamesmanship and its relevance to both sexes as a sexual market exploit.

Men HAVE to game, women CHOOSE to game.

But before you bronze this formulation, a caveat. Men and women have different reproductive goals, and therefore different perspectives on the purpose of courtship. The value of female-specific game may seem nebulous to men, but with a long view in mind can be understood as more of a necessity to women.

Men game to give women what they want, because that’s the path to sex. Women game… to give themselves what they want, because women need to know if a man is worthy of their sex.

The point deserves belaboring. As women are the choosier sex, and as women are holistic judges of mate worth and place equal emphasis on non-visual attractiveness cues, men have to bring more to the table to get any traction with potential love interests. Therefore, game, one of a panoply of enticement strategies available to men, becomes more of a necessity than a luxury.

Women need to look pretty and fuckable to catch men’s attention. That’s it. (haters, spare us your spittle.) Women’s personality and smarts will start to matter for the long haul, but in the courtship arena they needn’t concern themselves much with “applying charisma” to attract men.

Women play games — their flavor of head games — to identify strong men. Women aren’t doing it to increase their attractiveness to men; they’re doing it because they have to deal with an information bottleneck about suitors. Men don’t have this bottleneck because most of the information they need is scanned and analyzed within a second of visual confirmation.

Women also play games because they’re bored by the parade of uninspiring betas who constitute the vast majority of men. Or they want to feed their egos with an endless buffet of external validation. These latter two reasons aren’t mutually exclusive with the primary “beta male filter” directive, but they are more frivolous and the willingness by women to indulge those urges imply an intuitive grasp of their inherently greater sexual value.

This is why the psychological strategems preferred by women, and peculiar to women’s specific needs, have come to be disparaged as the art of playing “head games”. Women play games not to appease or captivate men in the hope of mutual romantic fulfillment, but — like so many quirks of female behavior demonstrate — to gratify their egoism and to amuse themselves.

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Phillyastro hurls the high heat and takes the COTW:

Every civilized person in the West claims they abhor eugenics until their daughter wants to get married.

Parents aren’t the only secret eugenicists. The daughters and sons will find it much easier to fall in love with a person who is high mate value and thus eugenically optimal. God teaches us the power of Love so that we may advance as a species.

Interesting thing about Love. Love can be both a rationalization for a poor mate choice — “oh, but she’s so in love, and that’s all that matters” — and a euphemism for a eugenically pleasing pairing — “it wasn’t his money, it was love that brought them together”. What can’t Love do?

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The best thing about stopping by the Cheap Chalupas grease truck is reading commenter The Anti-Gnostic (blog here) make swift work of liberaltarian shibboleths.

I think we’ve seen enough to draw a few conclusions: Islam is incompatible with Western ideals; welfare subsidizes violent, unassimilable, r-selected populations; and open borders mean the death (literally) of liberal society.

I like the slice of his shiv. Don’t dawdle about with the extremities; aim straight for the leftoid heart. Fun Frag: The Anti-Gnostic has won the FCOTW before.

It’s time for a MMM FRESH MEAT! injection of COPROP.

Islam is incompatible with Western culture.
A few passionate bad Muslims will change society more than a million mealy-mouthed good Muslims.
Tribalism trumps liberté and égalité. (Fraternité subject to context.)
Islamophobia is code word for anti-white.
The white elite is the first enemy of the white race.
Diversity + Proximity = Charlie Hebdo.

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COTW winner is DavidTheGnome, who perceptively writes of the gleeful masochism with which leftoid whites immerse themselves,

I grew up in Bethesda Maryland, DC’s jewish/white liberal suburb, so I’ve been around them all my life. I’m also involved in the arts, which is probably more liberal than academia. I don’t want to throw my left leaning friends under the bus (that includes my “conservative” ones) but the more I see of this pathology, the more disturbed I am by it.

I mean, I don’t get into frothy political shouting matches with people in my social circle (although they know I’m not like them in many respects, and every now and then we go at it to a certain degree) but there’s just something profoundly dark and ignoble at the heart of what I used to consider a somewhat silly, effete and thoroughly conformist ideology.

All the hysterical posturing, the crazy eyes they get when a topic gets too close to the edge. I’ve seen genuine terror in some cases, child like saucer eyes (and these aren’t bad people, and I don’t personally know any who could sink to Coopers level) but as every year goes by they seem to get worse whenever animated by these ideas. Kerry Bolton wrote a good book “The Psychotic Left” and details some of its most prominent personalities. It’s really horrifying, but great, all his books are great.

I’m on an evo-psyche and fantasy series stint at the moment, but I wouldn’t mind reading a book that went about mining the depths of the liberal bobo heart. I suspect at the center lies some kind of ravenous, stygian chimera, vacillating between states of paralyzing fear and impotent rage. It eats culture and shits hypocrisy.

My edumacated guess: The leftoid mind, honed over millennia in NW Europe under manorial and outbreeding conditions, is today a fish out of water. Diversity — real diversity — is finally at their doorstep, and that precious altruistic mental module just doesn’t know how to comport itself in the teeth of a daily reality that defies its prescriptions, its hopes, and its preening self-righteousness. The result is a lashing out — although in this case it’s accompanied by a “lashing in” — against intruding crimethink and the tiniest deviations from their increasingly manicured ideological boundaries.

******

COTW runner-up winner is mts1, writing about the utter lack of desire that men feel for challenging women.

“An unevolved man or a boy will always want the simple girl. He doesn’t want to have to work hard for anything, especially not a relationship. He doesn’t want to be challenged or confronted.”

I am challenged and confronted every day out in the world, at work, and the commute to and from it. The only challenge and confrontation I want at home is the job of raising children, and I want a wife as a co-pilot in that, not an enemy combatant. But I come and go from MGTOW, each time trying to find someone who’d be that safe harbor where I can rest my warship’s crew, get the maintenance and repair my ship’s needs, then come morning I go to battle again for that safe harbor. This warship can take a lot, but even the USS Enterprise needed basic maintenance to make it the length of WW II. But each emergence from MGTOW ends up in “yup, touching fire still burns the hand” and so I stayed single. The incredible drive to have kids is the sole reason for leaving MGTOW from time to time. But the demanding harpies who have a number of kids by whomever, but laugh when I ask if they’d think of having more by me this time, drive me back into sweet solitude. They don’t realize I have but one sole freaking job for them, make that “down there” make me little ones, and in return you got me for life. They have 101 hoops for me to try to jump through that’ll allow them to keep me if I get 100% right; I have but one for them and they can’t do even that for me. On the other side of town, every gangbanger has a slew of baby-mommas and a line around the corner of girls dying for him to put a bun in their oven…

These entitled women think they know from “intelligent, strong woman.” My grandmothers came over from the Old Country when told to do so once their respective husbands established a nest egg in this country after working a bit where they hot-cotted it with a dozen other day laborers in a cold water flat, then graduating to a mill job. One raised 8 children (birthed 12, but 2 died stillborn and 2 by flu), the other 7. Then came the Depression. One nearly lost the house he built from a kit, the other lost his, and went to another mill city on a relative’s tip, then hailed the wife to bring the kids once that worked out. Yet blowing up the marriage was not even thought of. These were hard bonded families and the kids still had mom AND dad even if a bite of bread and a cup of watery coffee was every day’s breakfast. Then came WW II and though immigrants, every son on each side served, even to the last sole surviving sons, which was an out back then. And momma at home worrying over each son, luckily, none got the gold star. That is strength, and always finding a way to raise the kids and care for the husband and keep her own wits, that’s intelligence. Yet those “shackled, enslaved” women, I never heard a word of them being bitter, instead, their families were their lives, and they died happy and fulfilled. Today’s modern, independent, strong womyn, I wouldn’t give her a week in either grandma’s shoes without a nervous breakdown herself and a legion of Ritalin addicted trainwrecks for progeny. Strong, my ass.

Strength will take a vacation when it’s not tested. I wonder if the modren woman, should she be tested like her grandmother, would find a hidden well of strength to draw upon. Maybe that’s what pampered, tartphone-strapped women need: To be tested. Pushed forcefully out of their maudlin malaise so that they can recapture that happiness which eludes them at an accelerating pace. I leave it to the reader to draw the obvious game parallels. (And biochemical hormesis parallels.)

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