The Egonomics Of Bitterbitches: Yes, Homely Skanks Are Using Tinder To Get Attention. No, Not From Desirable Men.

This scorched-id ashvomit from a bitter, unattractive androgyne is representative of a lot of spoiled word salad written by emotionally shattered Millennials. It’s featured on the hallowed screen of the Chateau because it encapsulates just about every psychological disorder afflicting the inhabitants of the currently operative mating market.

See if you can spot the try-hard misappropriation of Heartistian ideas in her snarkbark.

My Tinder match decisions had grown more rapid and decisive. Handsome but no bio and all shirtless gym selfies? Dick is abundant and low value. Lists only an Instagram as a bio? Dick is abundant and low value. Quotes Jack Kerouac’s “The only ones for me are the mad ones…” Dick is abundant and low value. Went to Burning Man…twice? Dick is abundant and low value. Member of an improv troop? Dick is abundant and low value.

Technically, she’s right. Dick is abundant (aka sperm is cheap) and, therefore, low value. But if she were to finish her thought — she wouldn’t dare — she’d have to admit that high value dick is scarce, in fact scarcer than is high value pussy, and that her real problem is getting too much attention from loser men and not enough attention from the winner men she wants who aren’t desperate enough to momentarily flatter her self-conception as part of a low investment strategy for an easy lay with a rancid skank.

Dick is abundant and low value. I had gotten my new motto amidst the worst break-up of my life.

Break-ups are especially hard on women when they are the ones getting dumped. Women in their sexual prime are rarely cast off outright. Usually, when a man tires of his girlfriend, he strings her along and starts to check out while keeping his eye open for new possibilities. A man would have to be completely fed up with his girl to dump her cold before having another plate in his cabinet.

Shaken to my core by the degrading insults my ex had hurled at me but also mourning the permanent departure of some poetically good dick,

A frequent semantic ploy of Millennial chicks is their straining to ape the sexual prerogatives inherent to men, or their claiming to do so to an audience of like-minded bitterbitches cheering them on. The urban warrioress wants the world to know she has the sexual appetite of the most promiscuous men, because it infuses her with a false sense of power in the face of personal crisis.

I was spending a day mindlessly refreshing Twitter and reading up on how to spot sociopaths.

Dead giveaway she loves her some sociopath schwing.

Send an unsolicited photo of your lower body in your laundry-day underwear with your hand suggestively but not sexily placed over your semi and not even bothering to crop out your poor cat? Dick is abundant and low value.

If you look weird and have an unfeminine personality, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that the kinds of men contacting you are also weirdos with a poor grasp of of the concept of selling themselves.

Some will read my gleeful rejections on the many faces I encounter on Tinder as evidence of a disturbing uptick in malevolent, anti-male sentiments among single straight women. It is not. It is evidence of us arriving nearer to gender equilibrium where men can no longer happily judge the clear and abundant photos and carefully crafted profiles of women but become incensed when they take the opportunity to do the same.

This paragraph doesn’t make any sense. How does she reject on Tinder faces? With a vigorous clit flick? And how can men no longer judge the clear and abundant online dating photos of women? Are men blind, or just the men who contact her?

It was not always thus.

Painfully bad writing. If it weren’t for the internet, what would all these feminist Austen-wannabes do with their time?

I hoped that the obvious would become clear and that he’d do what I would do when faced with rejection: slink away to a remote cave and hope to find a sudden and merciful death. Instead, he flooded both my email and Facebook page with accusations of egregious superficiality and a sudden change of heart regarding my own attractiveness.

Note the subtle attractiveness-affirming humblebrag. Typical self-contradicting feminist. “I reject your patriarchal beauty standards, forthwith and egregiously. But not before I mention this one guy I rejected who acted like I wasn’t cute when it was so clear to both of us that he did think I was cute when he thought he had a chance.”

And, for all its faults, I still find Tinder delightful. […] No one can address me without my consent, which I can withdraw with an unceremonious “Unmatch” at any time. […] It is a special joy to left-swipe such profiles back into the bowels of Hades from whence they came.

Woman with low SMV imagines that a technology particularly suited to the insta-courtship, low investment preference of fly-by-night men is somehow a blow for female sexual empowerment.

When Tinder matches occurred, these men stormed into our messages with all the social grace of Steve fucking Urkel but none of his endearing sincerity with appeals like, “Sexy dress. Hook up?”

Men give women what they think women deserve. If you look like a good-to-go slut and you have a Tinder profile, most men will think you deserve little more than a dick pic.

They wore jerseys for teams that suck.

She’s got to pare down her 463-bullet point checklist by at least 462 bullet points.

And almost every last goddamn one of them found their whiskey habit absolutely fascinating.

Fascinating enough that she remembered them and wrote about them.

When these tactics repeatedly failed them,

Did the tactics fail them? This chick seems to have no comprehension of the appeal to men of the low investment, mass mailing seduction strategy. If 1 out of 100 drive-by “hey baby” Tinder come-ons work, that’s a roaring success considering the few seconds of effort it requires to put the plan in motion.

It would be sad that they inadvertently admitted that they actually just have no game if there wasn’t such a spiteful sense of entitlement in such sentiments.

Chicks dig entitled men.

Bless their blue-balled little hearts.

Alert: Unloved harridan enjoys visualizing herself in the role of temptress heartbreaker.

Meanwhile, a substantial number of other men guessed that women using Tinder might enjoy wild romantic gestures like using punctuation in sentences instead of winky faces, or asking which trains we lived off of to pick mutually convenient meeting places, or bringing their own condoms because safety is everyone’s responsibility. These men who care more about women’s realities than their own fantasies are the ones who still actually get laid on Tinder.

She’s yet to form a lasting bond with this kind of man. Mysteries of the universe.

While some women only use Tinder to seek long-term relationships, the assertion truth is that many of us are actively trying to find no-strings attached sex and even more are at least open to the possibility of it on an initial meeting.

Slut wants NSA sex, shocked to discover men who want same thing aren’t Prince Charming.

It is understandably non-negotiable for many women that this meeting take place in public because the law does not look kindly on us if we are assaulted after showing up at a new man’s home nor is it any kinder to women who welcome new men into theirs.

rapesthatwillneverhappen.txt

I am one of many women who has upgraded these initial encounters into sex and have grow increasingly skilled at selecting for only the most exceptional sex with every swipe.

David Fatrelle smiled knowingly.

One guy was 20 minutes late to our museum date and it turned out it was actually closed so we went to Ikea for our date instead. Ikea where love goes to die! Ikea. I carried his clunky-ass light fixtures across an industrial part of town in August heat wearing skinny jeans and still let him see me naked that day.

Well, that’s the kind of thing desperate LSMV women who love entitled jerks do.

I halfway had sex with an investment banker who insisted on bringing his shitty little dog into my pristine cat’s lair.

What you are witnessing is the raw, uncensored id of a loveless and unloveable shrike having a mental breakdown online as she recollects with exquisite detail and simmering rage all the badboys who dumped her after they squared away a few jackhammer sessions with her shredded snatch before moving on to less crazy pastures.

The truth is,

Autonomic female verbal tic meaning “the truth is not”.

sluts like me are everywhere on Tinder but we aren’t impressed by men who are positively beleaguered by the prospect of having to put effort into getting laid,

Funny, if you aren’t impressed by these men, why did you fuck so many of them that you were able to recall and write up a compendium of them as part of your mental health rehabilitation?

nor do we like it when they mock the boundaries of our girlfriends who want to use Tinder only for traditional dating.

Strange non sequitur. I’ll leave it as a challenge for the readers to parse its hidden meaning. My guess: She’s been used a few too many times by men as a pivot to score with her hotter girl friends.

But I’ve found enough value on Tinder to keep going, swiping and unmatching bad profiles out of my life at the first sign of unreasonable expectations.

Power Swiper. With any luck, Tinder will still be around when she’s really old (and not just old-looking), and she can assuage her butthurt spinsterhood by swiping away randos who love her as much as they love the other 100,000 Tinder ladies they’ve gallantly wooed.

Their corner of Tinder is a dark place, dense with hapless souls who didn’t realize that the centuries-long period of dick overvaluation is over.

Yet there she is, in the dark place with these hapless souls. So that makes her…?

The writer — and I use the term loosely — of this soul-scarred confessional is Alana Massey. You can follow her on Twatter here.

Esteemed winner of the CH Attention Whore of the Month award:

29-year old Millennial, or 50-year-old meth addict? If she’s the slut she says she is, she’s a great PSA for women to lay off the cock carousel.

(My shiv needs sharpening after this carving.)

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Sweden: Where Does She Go From Here?

Sweden is the flaccid tip of the rapidly deflating penis of Western civilization, so what happens there can be construed as portents of dire things to come to the rest of the West. Reader Jack Dorchol writes about his first vision upon landing at Sweden shores.

Last year I took a regular passenger ship line from Helsinki to Stockholm. It was to be my first time in Sweden. As I was disembarking the ship, the moment I put my feet on the Swedish soil I was “Welcomed to (new) Sweden” by the sight of East African multiple-wives freak show (the 4th one hid behind his back when she saw my camera.)

And this is just the first of many similar scenes playing out on the Swedish streets.

I felt the sick to my stomach the entire stay.

The suicidal tendencies of white Swedes (a qualifier one needs to employ nowadays) are breathtaking. So breathtaking, that it’s not possible to see a happy future for Sweden that doesn’t take a path first through an illuminating hellscape. I see two possibilities for the new Sweden:

1. Dissolution. Quickening cultural and economic deterioration, and absorption of white Swedes into a nonwhite polyglot via intercopulation and abysmally low native birth rates. Total demographic and cultural exhaustion.

2. Rupture. A formidable fraction of non-elite, sane-thinking white Swedes bring war home. Or this war is brought to them when a tipping point of foreign migrants utterly drain the Danegeld reserve.

Either way, Sweden is set to go through a trial by fire. What comes out the other end is disappearance, or destruction. What I don’t see happening is possibility #3: Swedish elites come to their senses, close the borders, kick out the alien squatters en masse, and reaffirm their northern white European identity. Ideological leftoids with a bad case of the non-reciprocated altruistic yips will never change their minds; the human ego is a cosmic force too powerful to defeat. They can only be removed from power and cast to the wastelands where their status-striving idiocy can’t threaten the very existence of their own nations.

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The Four Planks Of A Dissident Party

Imagine there’s a border
it’s easy if you try
No third world among us
around us only MPC Whytes

Imagine all the oligarchs
swinging from lampposts

Imagine there’s no deep state
It isn’t hard to do
Nothing to run or hide from
And no NSA, too

Imagine all the cameras
Leaving you in peace

You may say I’m a dreamer
But I’m not the only one
I hope someday you’ll join us
And your land returned at once

Imagine no surveillance
I wonder if you can
No need for TOR or Tails
A mutual respect for citizens

Imagine all the oligarchs
Swinging till they’re limp

You, you may say I’m a dreamer
But I’m not the only one
I hope someday you’ll join us
And America will be reborn

***

The Rise of a Dissident Party

I predict this will happen. It will be bigger and stronger than previous third parties. The Dissident Party will swear no allegiance to the current Narrative pabulum. It will have almost as little in common with Republicans as it does with Democrats. It will spare no space in the tent for pussies whose first instinct is to bend over and take it up the pooper. It will be unabashedly RealTalk, but its best politicians will need to be silver-tongued devils who know how to triangulate from samizdat hatefact warriors pushing the Overton Window into Genghis territory.

The Dissident Party will have four planks, spelled out effectively by commenter JohnnyWalker123 at Steve Sailer’s:

There are 3-4 major issues that Americans should fight on.

1. Immigration. There needs to be a permanent end to immigration to the US. Immigration lowers wages, erodes American culture, and creates a low-trust society.

2. Oligarchization. Our media and govt are controlled by a few very wealthy oligarchs. The masses of America need to use a variety of tactics (raising taxes on the wealthy, financial regulation, forming labor unions, stopping immigration, protective trade barriers, tariffs, effective usage of anti-trust laws, forming pro-worker third parties, creating alternative media) to break the power of the oligarchs. This is our country, not theirs.

3. “Deep State.” The military-industrial complex, intelligence agencies, and a variety of organizations and individuals constitute the Deep State. From the JFK assassination onward, they’ve been too well entrenched. They’ve become particularly powerful since 9/11. My view is that this Deep State is eroding democracy, freedom, and privacy. It’s also bankrupting us through parasitism and promoting policies not favorable to the national interest. There need to be limits placed on their power.

4. Traditional norms. Traditional norms with respect to family, religion, masculinity, marriage, race, and cultural/national identity. This is an issue of lesser importance, but I think that many of this country’s problems could be solved through strengthening through bringing back some of these ideas. Traditional American culture is actually fairly moderate by global standards, so a partial return to traditionalism could be beneficial without being repressive.

I don’t see fighting for HBD to be nearly that important. The reason is that even if we proved our HBD principles were right tomorrow, that might lead to policies that aren’t especially favorable to us. For example, let’s say we prove NAMs have lower IQs than whites. What’s the consequence of that? I could see our elites pushing for large scale immigration of Chinese and Indians (as is the case in Australia, Canada, NZ), which is not in our interest.

Proving HBD principles correct could also legitimize oligarchization and Jewish domination of our country. After all, if Jews and oligarchs are smarter than the average white, isn’t it best to put power in their hands? Shouldn’t the masses trust their “cognitive elites”?

Most common sense policies don’t even need a HBD-based rationalization. For example, we can justify cutting immigration by appealing to a wage depression argument. On an issue like ferility, we can justify aggressive family planning for less educated, lower income women (“1 and done” as Steve Sailer said) on the basis of wanting these women to invest in themselves. Non-HBD explanations work effectively and are probably more palatable to the public too.

Repeat after me:

1. Immigration
2. Oligarchization
3. Surveillance State
4. Return to timeless norms

These are the four digestible, media-ready Dissident Party planks. Get the branding and the message down before delving into the details. This practice helps clarify the mind and gird the spirit.

Immigration

A 20-year immigration moratorium,  of legal and illegal migrants. When the borders are once again partly opened, immigrants from NW Europe are to be favored, followed by Immigrants from East and South Europe. The rest of the world may contribute a few percent, tops. A little seasoning can be good for the stew. Note: A LITTLE.

Oligarchization

Strip wealthy oligarchs of their power over policy and the composition of the nation’s citizens. Tariffs, big tax increases on the 0.1%, improved government oversight of their backroom dealings, very high minimum wages, and laws designed to limit the ability of the super wealthy to lobby for cheap labor.

Surveillance State

We’re living in Big Brother’s world, just as Orwell described. I continue to be amazed that the average American isn’t more incensed than he appears to be by the constant surveillance. Bottom line: It needs to end. No more marketing firms collecting reams of personal data. No more Facebook shenanigans. No government snoops reading your late night pervy sexts to plate number three. Triple layered encryption should be the default condition for all consumer electronics, built right into the firmware. Eyes in the sky should be ripped from their street corner perches. I don’t want to live in a surveillance state; I want to live in a cohesive society with high trust levels that obviates the need for mass surveillance.

Timeless Norms

Roll back gay marriage. Cremate the rotting corpse of feminism. Send the race equalists scurrying into dank hovels licking their wounds. The Gods of the Copybook Headings wasn’t just a snazzy riff on cultural decay; it was a guide to the Good Life. Press the point that individual rights will wilt without societal norms to scaffold them. If none of this is possible, seriously consider the option of splitting America into regional powers.

I’ll have more on the coming Dissident Party in future posts. For now, the clarion call…

 This is what separate countries are for.

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Low-T Manlets For Hillary

Heh.

Any straight white man who votes for Grandma Hillary, aka the wife of Monica Lewinsky’s ex-boyfriend, in 2016 for any reasons other than as a principled objection to the current GOP de Meximerica ideological configuration or to hasten the end of Poz-Americana needs to have his balls extracted from their nesting spot against his ovaries.

In the meantime, smearing leftoid men with the “low-T” label is effective COPROP that could, at the margins, convince a few pansy-assed equalists to rethink their self-immolation and even more to slink away in embarrassed silence. The virtue of this low-T slander strategy is that it’s true, which means you don’t need a supplicant media machine to help elevate your charges to accepted wisdom. Your targets will autonomically wince with self-aware pain, because they’ve been living with their effeminacy for decades, and are all too familiar with their personal shortcomings in the testicular department.

Prediction: If Hillary Rodham is the nominee, she will receive the lowest percentage of white male votes in the history of the Democrat party. And it won’t matter. Election outcome will be the same. Madam President.

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How To Exploit The Rise Of The Degenerate Freak Mafia

Recently, I saw a woman from behind who, when she turned in my direction, displayed a full beard. A real beard meticulously trimmed to glamour mag perfection. Not two minutes after that encounter, I saw a thing whose sexuality I could not for the life of me accurately discern. When it turned to face me, I saw that it had the faint countenance of a male face, and humongous swinging manboobs that slapped against its kegerator belly. The worst part? The thing’s nipples were huge. I could see the dark outline of islet areolae and jutting teat tips stretching the fabric of its silky t-shirt.

Now, normally, I don’t like giving these freaks the satisfaction of my gawking attention, but some of them are so outlandish that the eye can’t help but try to make sense of what it’s seeing. Normally, the best way to treat freaks is to look right through them, as if they make no more impression than the air around you. Deny them what they want, which is attention, good or bad.

(Ed: Correction: the best way to treat freaks is to cast them to the icy wastelands, alone with their degeneracy, but that is not an option anymore. Too bad.)

Anyhow, the crooked rise of these shambling mounds has got me to thinking about a potential upside. If you’re a well-groomed, healthy, trim, normal looking man with no obvious psychological or sexual identity issues manifested in any body “art” or strange fashion choices, the world of the Degenerate Freak Mafia is your oyster. Waltz into a job interview or client meeting with your head held high and your chest projecting an invincible aura of confidence, because everyone will breathe a sigh of welcome relief that they’re in the company of a genetically and psychologically superior human. In the land of the disfigured, the abnormally normal man is king.

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The Great (Wo)Men On Marriage

Courtesy of commenter mendozatorres, a quote from Mary Haweis, authoress, who sounds spookily prescient about our current state of marriage as she reminds her readers that marriage sans concessions is a boon for women and a raw deal for men.

Alas, when people complain of men not marrying (even they who are able), they forget how little women offer in exchange for all they get by marriage. Girls are so seldom taught to be of any use whatever to a man that I am only astonished at the numbers of men who do marry! [ed: we all are, mary.] Many girls do not even try to be agreeable to look at, much less to live with. They forget how numerous they are, and the small absolute need men have of wives; but, nevertheless, men do still marry, and would oftener marry could they find mates – women who are either helpful to them, or amusing, or pleasing to their eye.

–The Art of Beauty by Mary Eliza Haweis, published in 1878.

I wonder what the prime fertility years sex ratio was in 1878?

Mary Eliza Haweis is a friend of the Chateau. She understands — more nobly, she admits — that men must necessarily sacrifice to marry, while women enjoy lavish gains and the fulfillment of lifelong dreams when they marry. This inherent marital risk bias favoring women implies that the institution should be structured to supply men with some up front guarantees of return on investment or indulgences to fulfill, at least occasionally, their own male-specific romantic prerogatives.

Not surprisingly, Mary looks to be a fairly attractive woman by the standards of her time. It’s not quite an ironclad rule, but the way to bet is that attractive women are likelier than homely women to have familiarity with the basic truths governing the behavior of the sexes. After all, what kind of woman will be more in need of soothing platitudes to make it through the day without pondering the existential release of the razor blade poised lengthwise?

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Compassionate Communication Workshop

Any remnants of white masculinity in the American culture are being swept away for good. Commenter JohnnySixpack relates,

I was in a “compassionate communication” workshop today (required of all hospital providers here)

To get through it, I amused myself by tallying up the race/sex pairings in the powerpoints. One of the more egregious segments was on “medical literacy” and how patients don’t understand what we are telling them. All patients were described at having a 7th grade reading level or lower.

The scenarios were depicted thusly:

Black male doctor to white male
Hispanic male doctor to white female
White female doctor to white male
Black female doctor to white female

Insidious.

And invidious. The anti-white man propaganda is bad enough, but then one steps back and is forced to ask himself, “What the hell is a compassionate communication workshop, and why does it vaguely sound like humiliation torture to strip men of any desire to express their manhood?” Then of course one wonders if the pegged 7th grade reading level for the typical hospital patient is perhaps a bit too generous.

Ah well. This waking nightmare will have its reckoning soon. The craven disfigured beasts devouring the last shreds of cultural goodness seem to get hungrier with each swallow. They hunch over the carcass of their nation with a purpose that belies any hope of compromise. They will eat until nothing’s left, or they will be made prey themselves.

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