12 Year Old Girl With Game

A reader emails:

Hi, I want to comment you something  I saw at the mall yesterday.

There were two girls by my side (12 and 8 years old) jumping, screaming and in general being annoying and invading my personal space. They had that attitude that the kids have when they are planning something. Fortunately they disappeared after they decided their plan of action.

After few moments  they reappeared at a nearby table, occupied by three male kids. The two girls were standing there and started to talk with the boys. The girls extended their hands and chatted a few minutes. The older girl took her phone, get one boys number and then they left. Two of the boys were 12  years old and the other was 6.

It was nice to see the scene. The girls were standing all the time. The older one was relaxed with good body language. The younger one didn’t stop to smile while she hugged her bear shaped backpack. The boy was flattered, but stay cool.

So, here you have it. A 12 years old girl with game!

Best regards.

If I’m right about the growing masculinization of Western women, we are going to see more of this sort of thing. Little girls will mimic what they see the adult women in their lives do, and what they see are women running game on men, approaching men, having kids out of wedlock, racking up multiple sex partners, and generally behaving like aggressive caddish men. This is good for easy sex, but it’s also the death knell of femininity.

How many readers have noticed more aggressive posturing by women in the field? A broad cultural/genetic trend may be in the offing. If it is, one thing is certain: over a long enough time span, it’s self-correcting.

Also, good reader, stop watching kids at the mall. Some hatchet-faced femcunt whose dusty hole hasn’t had a sexual experience that didn’t chafe, might see you and alert the national guard.

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Beta Valentine

The crack team of Chateau clit crits does not review movies too often because most of what passes for entertainment in theaters is rubbish. However, once every decade or so a movie so bracing, so truthful, and so relevant to the cultural moment comes along that we feel compelled to give it a platform for the readership.

The post ahead contains spoilers. If you are a giant vagina, close your eyes and think of momma’s womb.

Blue Valentine is an exploration of a modern marriage in the process of disintegrating, told via alternating scenes between the couple’s sordid present and their romantically heady past of five or six years ago. The flashback scenes aren’t labeled as such; the viewer knows they are flashbacks by the youthful hairline of Ryan Gosling’s character, Dean, and by the fact that there’s no kid around. The effect of the flashbacks is like a prolonged near-death experience, where the characters’ dying relationship is punctuated by gauzy vignettes of happier times.

Although the theater was filled with SWPL women probably on a bender from Glee house parties, don’t mistake this film for a chick flic. There’s too much truth told in the portrayal of a relationship hitting the skids for this to be anything resembling the typical sappy romance movie. For one, there’s no happy ending. Women’s faces after a manipulative cheese-fest chick flic show the telltale signs of throat-lumped weepiness: the glisten of fresh tears on cheeks. But the crowd of women filing out of the theater after Blue Valentine had only the vacant-eyed look of a shellshocked soldier who has just seen his buddy catch shrapnel. Or, in this case, catch a little too much reality.

Quite simply, there hasn’t been a movie in our lifetimes which depicts the fall of a man from charming nascent alpha to inept needy beta, and the loathing that this engenders in his lover, better than Blue Valentine.

Every male reader of the Chateau needs to see this movie, if for no other reason than to absorb the lessons it offers as a cautionary tale. The movie hits upon a number of powerhouse themes of this blog, and doesn’t flinch from the consequences. It makes one wonder if the director, Derek Cianfrance, reads this humble outpost of id brutality.

Michelle Williams plays Dean’s girlfriend/wife/pedestaled princess, Cindy. The two of them are from lower middle-class backgrounds. She’s a young, knocked up slut with daddy issues (she confesses to a nurse in one riveting scene in an abortion doc’s office that she has had “20, maybe 25” sexual partners, and the guy who got her pregnant — an alpha male wrestler — left her holding the baby bag), and he’s a high school dropout who works as muscle for a moving company who unironically wears American bald eagle sweaters and loves his job because it allows him to drink at 8AM. In other words, they are proles, with tastes, habits and dysfunction to suit.

Gosling and Williams give stellar performances. You will not see better acting unless Daniel Day-Lewis is on the bill. And this is the kind of movie that absolutely requires a high level of acting expertise; the subtle emotions and facial tics that are evoked to flesh out two ordinary people in a downward spiral of contempt, bitterness and fear, victimized not by each other but by ancient, primal mating forces pushing them in opposite directions, are beyond the range of most actors and actresses.

The casting here is important, because an unrealistically good-looking female lead would have strained credulity. Williams is cute, but not hot. She has a thick Teutonic neck, a slight belly roll, narrow hips, and an incipient double chin lurking underneath her long flowing blonde locks. That her cuteness is physically grounded like this helps explain why a guy of Dean’s caliber can feel simultaneously awed by her beauty and motivated by her attainability. Williams’ pedestrian 7 or 7.5 ranking delivers the message that exquisite female beauty is not the only instability factor that can corrupt a marriage; a man’s betaness can do the same.

The critical Chateau (and game) themes this movie hits upon include:

– alpha pump and dumps and beta providers and how women react to each type of man
– negs (AKA teasing) as a pivotal component of successful courtships
– the never-ending cycle of female shit testing
– the flame-out of male shit test failing
– forcing closeness before attraction is built
– the near impossibility of reviving a woman’s love after it has been squandered by beta behavior
– the deviousness of a woman’s female friends
– the well-poisoning that ensues when a woman gains higher social status than her husband
– the absolute irrelevancy of children to influence the modern woman with regard to her relationship choices
– the influence of competitor alpha males on a woman’s relationship trajectory
– the misguided idealism and romanticism of kind-hearted men
– the utter cluelessness of kind-hearted men about the nature of women
– the brute self-denial men practice when they project their romanticism onto women
– the inability of women to understand — let alone control — their own maelstrom of emotions
– the wisdom of the 2/3rds rule when expressing sentiments of love
– the recklessness and stupidity with which the lower classes careen in and out of relationships
– how easily unenlightened men are blindsided by women’s biomachinations
– how easily women can be bedded with simple charm
– how complimenting a woman can turn her off
– how a failing relationship can cause a man to forget what he did to attract the woman
– how a man can lose his sense of self when he allows himself to be defined by the strength of his LTR or marriage
– the foolishness of pursuing a relationship with a single mom
– and the tingle-killer of excessive self-deprecation.

There are scenes in this movie where you will cringe with a mix of disgust and pity. When Dean leans against a door frame, sobbing and pleading with Cindy to “tell me what to do. I’ll do whatever you want to make it better”, you want to slap him hard across the face and lead him to the tree of knowledge that is the Chateau. When he forces a hug upon her in the hopes that it will stir those old feelings and she responds with a stiff-armed turtling, visibly aching to escape his touch, your cringing will reach epic proportions.

Similarly, there is a visceral sex scene, while not very graphic (you only see boobs once in this movie), that you will have a hard time watching. Suffice to say, a woman out of love is no fun to make love to.

The disgust you will feel over Dean’s immolation and Cindy’s cold retreat is made all the more palpable by the flashbacks to times when Dean was the cocky, charming troubadour who swept Cindy off her feet with some solid early game and a hipster ukelele. In what is perhaps the greatest (and thus most realistic) neg ever delivered in a Hollywood movie, Dean says to Cindy, during his second attempt to pick her up, that he “heard pretty girls are nuts. You must be crazy insane then.” Pitch perfect. That, my friends, is how you deliver a competent neg. In fact, Cindy even acknowledges the neg concept when she replies “you have a funny way of insulting and complimenting a woman at the same time.” It wasn’t long after that they fell into bed.

The attention to detail is apparent in Blue Valentine. Cindy gets knocked up by an aloof alpha whom she allows to fuck her raw dog from behind, rutting like animals. He, naturally, cums inside her and issues a perfunctory “Oops, sorry” after he is spent. She rushes to the toilet to urinate out the sperm but it is too late. In another flashback we see her examining a pregnancy stick with fear in her eyes.

In contrast, when Dean first lays with Cindy, he goes down on her. He eats her out dutifully until she has climaxed. We do not see Dean penetrating her during that scene. The message is clear — alphas fuck the way they like to fuck, betas selflessly please their women. Since Dean never has a kid with Cindy despite a flashback scene where he expresses his desire to have one with her, we can assume that either she went on the pill or she required him to use a condom even in the marital bed.

Another message that should not be lost on the viewer: Cindy keeps the alpha asshole’s kid while denying Dean a genetic legacy of his own. She changes her mind while laying down and in stirrups in the abortionist’s office that she wants to keep the kid. Dean seals his fate when he agrees to love and support her and her kid, because he wants to build a family. Cindy, a desperate, broken single mom-to-be, eagerly jumps into a Justice of the Peace marriage with Dean.

But Cindy cannot tame her desire for a higher social status man (read: a bigger asshole), and Dean’s satisfaction with his banal employment, and his profligate flattery of Cindy’s looks, eventually undermine the charm which initially attracted her. Her growing contempt for his beta neediness is so strong that she is willing to cast Dean out and traumatize her kid, who loves Dean because he is a doting stepfather.

This is why you should never treat single moms as anything more than holes into which to dump a few inconsequential fucks. As harsh as that sounds, a worse fate awaits the man who would attempt to build a relationship with a single mom. Every minute of every day, her kid reminds her of the alpha asshole who impregnated her, and whose seed she willingly chose to bring to life. You, as the provider chump assuming the role of the unrelated daddy, will always be second best in such a woman’s eyes, particularly if she chooses not to have kids by you. You will always be that guy who wasn’t quite good enough to burden her with child.

What man would want to live with such a daily reminder of his inadequacy? Well, men without any game, for example. When you feel the restriction of lack of options, you tend to settle for the dregs of womanhood.

Dean is a sympathetic character, so it would have been easy to stoke the audience to his side, but thankfully Cianfrance avoids that pitfall. Though less superficially sympathetic, Cindy is no villain. She is just following the dictates of her Darwinian script. She knows not what she does, and so you can’t really get annoyed with her. She even says as much: “I’m done, I can’t do this anymore!” This is the wail of a woman who feels unsettling guilt for falling out of love with a good man, and yet can do nothing about it.

The only real villain in the movie is the brief appearance of Cindy’s female co-worker, a grade A cunt who shouts “Don’t let him brainwash you, honey” at Cindy as she is leaving the office to calm Dean down. She even has sharp, vampiric teeth which she flashes at Dean through the office glass.

This lack of an obvious foe perhaps explains the blank faces of the crowd leaving the theater; what do you do when there is no one to root for, and no one to revile?

And that really gets at the heart of the matter. The forces that nurture relationships and that break them apart aren’t agents of good or evil. They are laws, like gravity, that we all must accommodate if we want to find love and be happy. Blue Valentine does the best job to date of any movie at illuminating the crass functioning of the mating market and the competing, and mutually alien, desires that animate men and women. It’s a dark and claustrophobic reminder of the fragile contingencies which sustain love. If the movie makes the phalanx of women leaving the theater uncomfortable, it’s only because it hits a little too close to home.

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Tolerance Immersion

The shooting of a Congresswoman by an unhinged schizophrenic anarcho-left winger with mental stability issues, and the predictable opportunistic reaction by the leftist MSM gleefully jumping the gun in assuming the shooter was a high ranking spokesman for the Tea Party, has got me thinking about big ideas. Specifically, the psychological motivations that drive the ruling class leftists to advocate for the strange things they do.

In between tacitly approving the repeal of the First Amendment in the wake of the shooting, leftists have been blaming the “climate of hate” (to which they no doubt contribute not one iota of hatefulness) on the inability of those “wrong” kinds of white people to get along with others not like them. This has been, in fact, the leftist chant for some forty odd years now, and their answer to this ever-growing problem of intolerance from those other whites-who-are-not-like-them-not-at-all-nosirree-these-aren’t-the-lily-white-gated-communities-with-monoracial-schools-you’re-looking-for has been to ramp up the antagonisms that provoke the bigotry they decry.

Logically, this makes no sense at all. If the leftists sincerely believe the “other whites” are intolerant bigots who foster a climate of hate every time they engage in the political process, then it’s counterproductive to advocate for increasing diversity which will, inevitably according to liberal logic, lead to more bigoted violence from the other whites. This is like wailing about drunk driving fatalities, and then throwing car keys at drunks and encouraging them to take the scenic route home.

Of course, the leftists aren’t much different than those they berate. We can tell this by the fact that those among them with options hightail it away from the vibrancy of the 50% gay 50% white hipster SWPL gentrified urban hood and into leafy, 5% gay 95% white yuppie suburbs when their precious tots are old enough to go to school, and too old to be used as stroller buffer to discourage would-be predators from targeting them.

Leftists are merely running status games through appeals to self-delusion, AKA PC. They need a bad guy upon which to project their own super secret bigoted thoughts and actions, and that bad guy happens to be commonsensical people who aren’t clever enough to fool themselves, and thus others, into believing utter bullshit.

But back to the leftist’s sincerity or lack thereof. Given enough self-deception, it is possible to begin to sincerely believe in blatantly stupid stuff. Leftists do sincerely look down their noses at the masses. But then, many leftists also sincerely believe that no human being is immutable; the average Joe’s hate and intolerance – through the power of government intervention – can be metamorphosed into something better, a world music listening Six Million Dollar Diversity Man who learns how to sip soy latte and mentally torture himself to find the most non-obvious explanation for FBI crime stats.

The overhaul and salvation of the Neanderthal bigot’s mind thus involves an orthodoxy that can be termed Tolerance Immersion. This is the leftist policy of immersing the white bigots in a swirling sea of diversity and platitudinal PC agit-prop, with the hopes that the heavenly light of tolerance would imbue the bigot as a sort of default immune response once he realized resistance was futile and his fate sealed. (You’ll notice in the leftist worldview, there is no such thing as a non-white bigot.) Similar to language immersion, it is believed by the leftist that radical tolerance immersion which leaves no room for dissent is the most effective way to help the bigot free himself of the last vestiges of primitive emotions, such as prejudice, racism, xenophobia, jealousy, envy, desire, joy and love.

Tolerance Immersion has been tried before, usually unintentionally, and history shows the wreckage that resulted. But history is socially constructed anyway according to leftist thought, so its lessons should be no impediment to their grand, and conveniently never quite finished, project utopia.

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Prole Vs SWPL

Half Sigma has a running gag on his blog comparing the tastes of proles (the proletariat, i.e. the working class and lower middle class, with perhaps some bleeding into the middle class) with those of the higher classes. I can’t tell if he’s being ironically deadpan or sincere, but it’s funny nonetheless. Categorizing the peculiarities of your lessers is so much more entertaining than watching Dancing With The Stars.

For instance, did you know that Red Delicious apples are prole while Fuji apples are SWPL? I always had a vague inkling that was the case, but now I know why: Red Delicious are oversized, gaudy, juicy and excessively sweet. Fujis are a more natural size, less ostentatious, less juicy and mildly sweet with subtle earthy undertones. This pretty much encapsulates the difference in class tastes; proles have an underdeveloped aesthetic that can only appreciate the bluntness of flash and tackiness, much like how an infant is drawn to bright primary colors. SWPLs have a mature aesthetic that gravitates to understatement, irony, and “hidden meanings”. On the color wheel, SWPLs would be the tertiary colors (red-orange, blue-green). This is because they are mincing little pukes who love to nuance everything to death.

I’m gonna run with this. Expanding on Half Sigma’s theme, here is my prole vs SWPL chart. I count SWPLs as generally middle to upper middle class whites (and some honorary Asians), raised through their formative years in leafy suburbs, and living in hip urban enclaves with other like-minded whites, often on their parents’ dimes. Hipsters, scenesters and yuppies are SWPL subgroups. Their tastes tend to converge even when their politics don’t (although as a rule SWPLs are pretty much standard operating procedure liberals. A conservative SWPL is what’s known as a “benefactor”. Or an engineer.)

Conservative and liberal SWPLs co-locate. Proles cohabitate.

If you have to ask what the acronym SWPL means, you are a prole. Or a foreigner.

Multicolored Christmas lights – prole
White or blue Christmas lights – SWPL
Bulb ornaments – prole
Antique doll ornaments – SWPL
Actual star or an angel on top of tree – prole
Homemade concoction by niece or a cubist representation of a star on top of tree – SWPL
Inflatable Santa and reindeer on front lawn – prole
Only decoration is Christmas tree in window and perhaps wreath on front door – SWPL
Nativity scenes – prole
Christmas miniature villages – SWPL
Kids get electronic toys minus the batteries – prole
Kids get puzzles, books, board games and art supplies with batteries included where necessary – SWPL
CVS brand batteries – prole
Rechargeable batteries (or better still, solar recharging) – SWPL
USAToday – prole
NYBTimes – SWPL
Glenn Beck – prole
Steve Sailer – SWPL
Jim Webb – prole
Nancy Pelosi – SWPL
Alarm clock set to morning zoo radio program – prole
Alarm clock set to soothing cadence of NPR – SWPL
Cloth sofas – prole
Microfiber sofas – SWPL
Motorcycles – prole
Scooters – SWPL
Tuna fish – prole
Salmon – SWPL
Bartlett pears – prole
Asian pears – SWPL
Barbequed ribs – prole
Bison meat – SWPL
Shredded cheese – prole
Smelly cheese – SWPL
Porn with anal penetration and loud, fake moaning from the girls – prole
Regular sex porn with pink-haired emo girls squeaking like mice – SWPL
Sluts – prole
Sluts pretending to be good girls – SWPL
Public sex – prole
Role playing – SWPL
Diabetes – prole
Stress fractures – SWPL
Sugary cereal – prole
Paleo diet – SWPL
Domestic industrial beer – prole
Microbrews – SWPL
Zinfandel – high prole
Pinot noir – SWPL
Shot glasses from different cities and vacation spots – prole
Stemless wine glasses – SWPL
Blended whiskey – prole
Single malt scotch – SWPL
Gays seen as threat or butt of jokes – prole
Gays seen as cool social ornaments or butt of jokes smoothed over with ironic plausible deniability – SWPL
Meth – prole
Coke – SWPL
Weight room – prole
Yoga – SWPL
Backyard wrestling – prole
Marathon running – SWPL
Biceps (men), tits (women) – prole
Six pack (men), calves (women) – SWPL
Children – prole
Apartment sized pets – SWPL
Home installing – prole
Home brewing – SWPL
Decks – prole
Patios – SWPL
Lawns – prole
Gardens – SWPL
“No fat chicks” t-shirt – prole
“This is what a feminist looks like” t-shirt – SWPL
NRA – prole
ACLU – SWPL
Cable – prole
Streaming video – SWPL
QVC – prole
Adult Swim – SWPL
Leno, CSI, DWTS, American Idol, Sarah Palin’s Alaska – prole
Stewart, Colbert, O’Brien, Tosh.o, Tim and Eric – SWPL
NASCAR, UFC – prole
Soccer, tennis – SWPL
Sleeps with fat chicks but would prefer skinny chicks – prole
Sleeps with skinny chicks but claims fat chicks would be perfectly fine – SWPL
Knows what the meaning of “is” is – prole
Knows what the meaning of “is” is, but pretends not to – SWPL
Paid summer jobs (or unemployment) – prole
Unpaid summer internships (AKA unemployment) – SWPL
Disney World – prole
Amsterdam – SWPL
Cleveland – prole
San Francis – SWPL
Patriotism, anti-quotas, de facto integrationism – prole
Feminism, anti-racism, de facto segregationism – SWPL
Transformers – prole
The Kids Are All Right – SWPL
“Show us your tits!” – prole
“Hey ho hey ho, Western culture’s gotta go” – SWPL
Family lives close by (no buffer zone) – prole
Family lives three flyover states away (buffer zone) – SWPL
WWJD? – prole
COEXIST – SWPL
First person shooter – prole
RTS or MMORPG – SWPL
Ford F150 – prole
Vespa – SWPL
Church – prole
Sunday brunch mimosas – SWPL
Drinking and fighting – prole
Drinking and snippily chastising – SWPL
Basement parties – prole
Stoop parties – SWPL
Naturals – prole
PUAs – SWPL
Taylor Swift – prole
MGMT – SWPL
Tom Cruise – prole
Colin Firth – SWPL
Nikes – prole
Vibram Fivefingers – SWPL
Lynyrd Skynyrd t-shirts – prole
Thinkgeek.com t-shirts – SWPL
Motorola  – prole
iPhone – SWPL
Bumping and grinding – prole
Salsa lessons – SWPL
Single moms – prole
Single – SWPL
Wolf whistling – prole
Shy glances – SWPL
PeopleofWalmart.com – prole
Will Wilkinson – SWPL
Divvies the check up by the exact amount each person in a party owes – prole
Splits the check evenly by number of party members – SWPL
Kiddie beauty pageants – prole
Kiddie bilingualism – SWPL

These are, of course, generalizations. Exceptions exist.

I give SWPLs a lot of shit for their hypocrisy, sanctimony and status whoring, but I wouldn’t want to live, for example, a prole lifestyle in a redneck neighborhood where COPS isn’t just a show on TV. The lower classes are crass, boorish and often thoughtlessly impulsive. Their kids are snot-nosed brats and bullies. When they speak their rudimentary patois, you will cringe. Their abysmal taste in the finer pleasures of life is a perpetual turn-off for those who would be their natural political allies. But they already get so much shit from the MSM that I don’t feel an urge to pile on them. I prefer to hunt the hunters.

Low class antics aside, working class proles are, by and large, honorable people. SWPLs are clever neutered ciphers. The average small town prole is much more genial than the typical urban SWPL, and more generous of spirit as well. When charitable giving is on the line, or when it’s a friendly voice and a warm smile you need, proles step up to the plate. SWPLs, meanwhile, are busy quipping like French aristocrats trying so SOO hard to impress their fellow SWPLs.

Proles are the backbone of vital enterprises like the military, but they could learn a thing or two from the culturally advanced classes. Of course, being proles, they probably don’t give a shit about impressing the SWPL schoolmarms, or they at least act like they don’t give a shit. And quite frankly, I don’t blame them for eschewing SWPL tastes. Aside from the aesthetics, what is there to admire in such a repugnantly self-regarding group of irony-pimping, snark-spitting, transnationalist, post-American lifestyle whores?

Both groups are signaling their status through their tastes, so morally neither one is better than the other. They are both sheep with a herd mentality, just following different herds. But an objective aesthetic judgement can be made that at least some (not all) of the SWPL tastes are superior. (Some taste differences are just downright arbitrary, and probably serve more as markers of delineation from perceived lower classes — AKA “wrong kind of white people” — than as honestly felt improvements in quality of life. For instance, there’s nothing about multicolored Christmas lights that makes them inherently inferior to white Christmas lights. In fact, not long ago, white lights were considered gauche.)

I always advise pay no heed to what women say; instead, watch what they do. You shall know them by their actions. Well, the same could be said for the places you choose to live and the people with whom you choose to associate.

Look around you. Do you feel a twinge of cognitive dissonance? Yet you admit to yourself it is a pretty good life. Don’t underestimate the satisfying feeling of being a dark force moving stealthily through the oblivious masses. They will do your bidding.

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Feminism Responsible For The Fall Of Rome

This guy draws an interesting comparison between feminism in ancient Rome and present day America, and how the rise of feminism portends a civilization’s collapse. The parallels are chilling. Yeah, it’s Reddit, waddaya want from me? You think you’re gonna get this kind of cutting edge analysis in the New York Beta Times?

Unfortunately, feminism and future is an oxymoron (or fortunately, depending on your point-of-view), as it seems to be unsustainable on the long run.

Based on past history, it appears that a civilization that embraces feminist values will cease to exist in just a few centuries. This is why we have never seen a feminist civilization aside from very short spans at the end of the Roman empire and possibly a few other more ancient civilizations.

Reading the history of the Roman Empire brings such glaring similarities with our own civilization, it is as if human social dynamics are literally stuck in a cycle that repeats every couple thousand years (there were two matriarchical, extremely advanced civilizations: one at the end of the Roman empire, 2000 years ago, one possibly at the end of Babylon, 4000 years ago).

For those who enjoy history, here is a short recap of social changes in Rome, 2 millenia ago (most historians focus on military and political facts, but I find the social aspects just as fascinating):

• ~5 century BC: Roman civilization is a a strong patriarchy, fathers are liable for the actions of their wife and children, and have absolute authority over the family (including the power of life and death)
• ~1 century BC: Roman civilization blossoms into the most powerful and advanced civilization in the world. Material wealth is astounding, citizens (i.e.: non slaves) do not need to work. They have running water, baths and import spices from thousands of miles away. The Romans enjoy the arts and philosophy; they know and appreciate democracy, commerce, science, human rights, animal rights, children rights and women become emancipated. No-fault divorce is enacted, and quickly becomes popular by the end of the century.
• ~1-2 century AD: The family unit is destroyed. Men refuse to marry and the government tries to revive marriage with a “bachelor tax”, to no avail. Children are growing up without fathers, Roman women show little interest in raising their own children and frequently use nannies. The wealth and power of women grows very fast, while men become increasingly demotivated and engage in prostitution and vice. Prostitution and homosexuality become widespread.
• ~3-4 century AD: A moral and demographic collapse takes place, Roman population declines due to below-replacement birth-rate. Vice and massive corruption are rampant, while the new-born Catholic Religion is gaining power (it becomes the religion of the Empire in 380 AD). There is extreme economic, political and military instability: there are 25 successive emperors in half a century (many end up assassinated), the Empire is ungovernable and on the brink of civil war.
• ~5 century AD: The Empire is ruled by an elite of military men that use the Emperor as a puppet; due to massive debts and financial problems, the Empire cannot afford to hire foreign mercenaries to defend itself (Roman citizens have long ago being replaced by mercenaries in the army), and starts “selling” parts of the Empire in exchange for protection. Eventually, the mercenaries figure out that the “Emperor has no clothes”, and overrun and pillage the Empire.
• humanity falls back into the Bronze Age (think: eating squirrel meat and living in a cave); 12 centuries of religious zilotry (The Great Inquisition, Crusades) and intellectual darkness follow: science, commerce, philosophy, human rights become unknown concepts until they are rediscovered again during the Age of Enlightenment in 17th century AD.

Regarding the Babylonian civilization (~2,000 BC), we have relatively few records, but we do know that they had a very advanced civilization because we found their legislative code written down on stone tablets (yes, they had laws and tribunals, and some of today’s commercial code can even be traced back to Babylonian law). They had child support laws (which seems to indicate that there was a family breakdown), and they collapsed presumably due to a “moral breakdown” figuratively represented in the Bible as the “Tower of Babel” (which was inspired by a real tower). Interesting and controversial anecdote: some claim that the Roman Catholic Religion is nothing more than a rewriting and adaptation of an ancient Babylonian religion!

You might say Roman cultural elites experienced Robin Hanson’s switch from a farmer to a forager society. How’d that turn out for everyone?

Let’s examine the parallels more closely.

~5 century BC Rome = ~1700 – 1920 America. The family unit is essentially “father knows best”, and slutting around by women is considered the height of shameful behavior, (as is cadding about by men). Monogamy is held up as the ideal arrangement without exception. (The “Wild West” might be an exception to the general rule of the day, as whoring and hell-raising were widespread in the frontier.) Lessers look up to their betters as exemplars of moral rectitude.

~1 century BC Rome = ~1920 – 1970 America. America is rising to the height of her power, a hyperpower being born. An economic and military power heretofore unseen in all recorded history. While the world digs out from under the rubble of consecutive wars and Communist pogroms, we have a battalion of aircraft carriers, a largely homogeneous population, and cheap housing for everyone willing to put in an honest day’s work. But the poison pill has been swallowed; the suffrage movement achieves its main goal, and the dark shroud of the equalist era is about to descend. In academic halls and classrooms, lessers are pedestalized, while betters are denigrated.

~1-2 century AD Rome = 1970-2000 America. The scourge of single momhood, free and easy divorce, child support laws, majority female colleges, DADT repealed, gay marriage, game, etc etc ad infinitum. In short, the ultimate expression of anti-discrimination, anti-received wisdom, individualist ideology, (ironically buttressed by the groupthink of diversity mongers.) Lessers ignore their betters, who in turn renege on their traditional responsibility to act as examples for the lessers.

~3-4 century AD Rome = 2000-2010 America. (You’ll notice America’s progression through the stages of empire is much faster than was Rome’s. This is the blessing — or curse — of high tech mass communication.) The native stock of America, (specifically, the betters of that stock), have stopped having kids. Vice and corruption are on the rise. (See: Chicago, CRA, Goldman Sachs, neocon lies, Enron, Madoff… I could go on.) Economic and political instability are the order of the day. While America’s presidents aren’t being assassinated, our elections have been nailbiters since 2000, and partisanship is at a fevered pitch. A reborn religion called Islam threatens to co-opt the sympathies of Western societies’ rootless rejects and masculinized women. Except for the thinnest upper class slice, betters now ape the habits of their lessers.

~5 century Rome = present day America. America is ruled by an elite of cognitive jackpot winners who use the President as a puppet. Massive debt and financial chicanery is practically enshrined in law. The army is less and less filled with the demographic slice of American citizens that used to make up its ranks. Mercenaries (UN peacekeepers, bribed warlords, arm-twisted allies, recent unassimilated immigrants, and the desperate, poor and out of shape) now make up a larger part of the tip of the spear that projects American power. America is in the process of slow-motion selling off of the Southwest to appease the millions of peasant illegals it cavalierly allowed to invade and settle in the country.

The Fall of Rome = ? America.

America is having her Tower of Babel moment, and the elites applaud it when they aren’t dithering over tax code arcana or the cultural impact of snarky late night TV hosts. These parallels with Rome’s fall should make you feel queasy about the future of this nation. But you’ll quickly push aside those depressing thoughts and switch on for another lightning round of Call of Duty, figuring it’s not your problem. Until it is. Do you feel lucky, punk?

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A Hedonistic Indulgence Of Links

Naomi Wolf says porn causes men to get inured to sex with real women. There might be something to this theory if we stipulate that by “real women” Mzzz Wolf means “dumpy hausfraus”. One wonders if she is ready to tackle the logical extension of her theory that riding the cock carousel causes women to get inured to sex with betas. I’m betting not.

From the No Duh Files: women orgasm more freely with alpha males. Women don’t need to be consciously aware of their hypergamy; the Darwinian prime directive has ensured that the intensely pleasurable orgasms women experience with alpha males will motivate them to date up when the options are available.

Dennis Mangan has written an insightful post about “social hormesis”. It draws a parallel between the physical body and the body politic, and how the things that won’t kill you really do make you — your body and your country — stronger. Remove those mini-stressors with decadence and wealth, and the whole thing circles the drain. Must reading for those who are looking for the big picture as to why societies decline.

The sexual market experimentally confirmed.

School overcrowding is going to get much worse, thanks to the soft genocide committed upon this nation by the open borders crowd. What happens when there aren’t any Fairfax school systems left to maraud?

Still think an army of sexbots to service the late-stage forager redux societies’ male rejects is pure fantasy? Its arrival is sooner than you think.

Porn and Penetration. The Oscar Academy just rose up and took notice. It moved me.

Meet a modern American traitor.

It’s been asked why every man isn’t tall if women have such a strong preference for tall men. I propose that there is a check on runaway sexual selection for male height — namely, clumsiness. Watch this video and then this one. It’s pretty clear that the shorter guy wearing the white shoes (I think he’s the bassist) is a more rhythmic dancer than either of the two taller guys. His dance moves are more fluid, less jerky. Maybe height brings with it a fitness reducing cost? (Great YouTube comment to the second vid: “In a call center, somewhere in America, four friends started a band…”)

Think the hardcore neg can’t work? “You’re one of the ugliest girls in the club.”

On an unrelated note, I deleted a recent post because so few commenters seemed to have the requisite grown-up reading comprehension and emotional stability to digest it. The comments were 5% insightful, 45% trollish, and 50% incredibly stupid arguments made in bad faith from both sides. That’s a Chateau record bad noise to signal ratio. It made my eyes hurt, so it gave me supreme pleasure to trash it.

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Sex Differences In Book Dedications

Reader Joel emails:

Here is an observation I have made about book dedications and how they give some insight into the female mind. I would like your opinion about it. You may use it on your blog site, or not. I would like some of this to be made known to your readers.

Many of the younger men just don’t get the nature of women, until too late, that is. I suppose this is because the girls put up a good show, and virtually all of the young man’s socialization tells him very little but lies. I blame testosterone for a lot of male blindness to the female personality. It is hard think rationally about anything, let alone women, when your testosterone level is high.

But, clues are everywhere. For example, take book dedications. I work in the medical field. Many medical books, if authored by only one or two people (an increasingly rare phenomenon these days) will have a dedication by the author. Almost all medical books have been authored by men, and the dedications usually give recognition to a person or persons important in their life, like wives, fathers, and mentors.

A common dedication would be:

This book is dedicated to my wife, my loving companion and my constant inspiration.

Or in the older books, just a plain:

To my wife: Mary Alice Haagensen.

Fathers often get mentioned, eg:

To the loving memory of my father, etc.

My personal favorite from a giant in his field:

I dedicate this book to my father, whose love of truth inspired me in all my works.

This particular author was home schooled by his father. Just to show they don’t make them like that anymore, he was married to a nurse, and they both lived into their old age together. When she died, a friend asked him if he missed his wife or was depressed over her death. His response would be a nice epitaph for anyone:

To complain about her passing would be poor thanks for a lifetime of perfect companionship.

Often, the books are dedicated to their mentors, sometimes by name, sometimes generically. Also, sometimes to their students, who are given credit for inspiring the authors to greater efforts by their youthful curiosity.

So, now that women are starting to write books, and have been doing so long enough so that it is not a novelty and they no longer simply ape the customs of men, what do we see?

Two recent book dedications, from women professors at a major medical institution:

To Andy-my husband, my best friend, my constant supporter, and the most decent person I have ever known.

Now, let’s look at this dedication. Where does she say she has the slightest emotional attachment to him? I could have written this about my dog, and with more feeling. And, to anybody who knows the female mind, a “decent man” is the man who she finds distinctly uninteresting in bed. By God, she is advertising to the world that her husband is a dud. A complete beta.

A second example:

To Michelle, Ryan, Alice, Justin, and Christopher.

Sounds odd. Who are these people? The first four are her kids. The last is her live in boyfriend, who happens to be a professor in the same department. No mention of her husband(s). Or father.

These dedications are outrageous, in my opinion, but, such is the amoral mindset of women.

Don’t say you weren’t warned.

I find this kind of putatively trivial stuff worthy of my attention because I believe much wisdom and knowledge about the mind of women can be gleaned from it. In fact, and despite my many science-oriented posts, most of what I learned about women was gotten from simply observing them in real life, whether in their doings with me or with others. Yet, the science is fascinating for how often it backs up what I observe with my own eyes.

So seemingly little things like sex differences in book dedications, when viewed with an inquisitive mind unshackled from the chains of hoary platitudes, leads to a better understanding of the emotional and cognitive commonalities that almost all women share. This, in turn, illuminates for the knowledge-seeking man the deeply embedded thinking processes that guide the behavior — sexual or otherwise — of women.

Am I surprised by the curiosity that modern Western women are rather unaffectionate, masculine sounding, and even belittling in their dedications to the men in their lives, or that that often dump their lovers — sometimes husbands, sometimes live-in boyfriends — at the back of the line of a laundry list of people? Am I thunderstruck by the fact that the typical authoress’s book dedication sounds solipsistic, like a vajrap straight outta self-empowerment?

The answer, of course, would be no. But I didn’t need anyone to tell me that. All I needed was a willingness to see the world as it really is, and to flinch not at what I saw. In a sane, reasonable world, this would not be a monumental accomplishment on my part. But in the world bequeathed us, filled to brimming with the willing blind and their wicked pied pipers, it is a glorious imposition upon this veil of lies.

To my readers: sharpen your claws, tear the veil into tatters, and feel the tingles of the women.

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