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Are you curious what constitutes the daily life of a girl who thinks herself a feminist? An anonymous commenter caught a glimpse of the Day-to-Day Feminist’s paltry, predictable world.

Sitting behind a girl on the bus yesterday, through the gap in the seat i got to see her flicking through her smart phone. She started off browsing Buzzfeed, pausing on an an article featuring melodramatic gifs with woman humour. i watched as she then progressed onto articles featuring makeup and period pain. With a knowing look I went back to my own business. 5 minutes later i looked back and i was met with the word ‘feminist’ on her screen, being edited by her in instagram to make it more eye catching. Shortly after this she began browsing her facebook feed, i payed particular attention as she paused the mindless perusing when pictures of attractive girls came into view to carefully inspect them. The girls were cute and wearing short dresses. I couldn’t see the bus girls face but instinctually I imagined her brow and mind contorting with white burning jealously and loathing.

A snapchat comes in on her phone, she opens the app, watching the 10 second images. She faces the camera towards herself and the dull twilight of the bus is sharply illuminated by a bright flash. she and i look at the resulting photo almost simultaneously, both of us unimpressed by the sight we see. She deletes the image, like a perfectionist artist discarding a painting that has failed to reach the standards of his minds eye. She tries again, same outcome. A third try fails to capture any beauty. She exits the app, putting down the phone, defeated.

I see clarity and ponder the hard truths thought by this blog and feel a sting of pity for this girl.

The Day-to-Day Feminist is the day-to-day girl. That is, she’s the opposite of every principle feminists claim to uphold. She calls herself feminist while comparing her looks to the standard established by beautiful women, keeping tabs on her Facebook neighbors, fulfilling her need to feed on buzzy gossip, and prettifying herself so that she can compete better in the sexual market for desirable men.

Feminists are at war with femininity, so they don’t like this reality about women, which is why they loudly insist “real” women are the opposite of the way women behave when left to their own devices. “REAL women have curves.” “REAL women love math.” “REAL women get raped.” “REAL women slay dragons.”

FYI, the next time you read or hear the words “a REAL woman…”, assume that the opposite of whatever is to follow is the truth.

REAL women don’t confuse obesity for curves.
REAL women don’t much like math and don’t perform as well as men at high level math.
REAL women hardly ever get raped, and the few that do are usually raped by non-white, non-frat boys.
REAL women know that the average, out-of-shape man could easily best them in a fight.

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Poz Vox recently had its one-year anniversary (“happy voxiversary”… that’s one smooth portmanteau). A staff photo was Twitted.

Vox, as you may or may not know, is a seething pit of anti-badwhite “anti-racism” Judeo-Christian hatred. If there’s a Dindu Nuffin or a Gentle Giant or a make-believe rape culture victim who can be exploited to slander normal, heterosexual white men, the girls at Vox are on the case.

With that in mind, notice anything peculiar about Vox’s staff? Can you… spot the Diversity?

I see one. Lower right corner. Couple of asians in the mix, too, but they don’t qualify as “Diversity” in the way the word is meant by Voxian shitlibs.

Infamous Tweeter, @CAPSLOCKHUSTLA was up to the task of spotting the Diversity. He responded “FOUND IT” and included a helpful pointer:

Very relevant postscript: Matty Yglesias named his kid “Jose”. You can’t make this shitlibbery up.

PPS This post hit a lot of nerves. Matty Yce is that you shoving your porky sausage link fingers into a bunch of sockpuppets? Heh. Tell us, why did you give your kid your wife’s maiden surname? Are you a huge faggot male feminist? Or did your wife turn the screws on your nutsack? Could be.

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We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all women are created unequally, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain divergences of appearance, that among these are Beautiful, Ugly, and Downright Hideous. –That to gloss over these divergences, Feminism is instituted among Women, deriving its magical thinking from the consent of the lovelorn. –That whenever any Form of Feminism becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of Women and their effete Male petitioners to alter or to reinvent it, and to institute a new Feminism Wave, laying its foundation on such irrationalities and organizing its powers in XXL vestment form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their glowing Self-Conception and freedom to Hallucinate.

***

You ever notice how the women who go on and on in high dudgeon about the necessity of consent are the women who are least likely to ever be in a romantic situation conceivably requiring their consent?

It’s almost as if…. almost!… unattractive, LSMV women glom onto feminist slogans to make themselves feel more desirable to men. The darlings. Not.

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An Atlantic leftoid* wrote a smug, insular column, “Waiting for the Conservative Jon Leibowitz”, rhetorically asking why there’s no conservative equivalent to The Daily Show or Colbert. The article reads like a gloat about how liberals “get it” and conservatives don’t get it, “it” being the nuanced (read: intellectual) forms of humor.

Over the years, Stewart and his cohort mastered the very difficult task of sorting through all the news quickly and turning it around into biting, relevant satire that worked both for television and the Internet.

Now, as Stewart prepares to leave the show, the brand of comedy he helped invent is stronger than ever. Stephen Colbert is getting ready to bring his deadpan smirk to The Late Show. Bill Maher is continuing to provoke pundits and politicians with his blunt punch lines. John Oliver’s Last Week Tonight is about to celebrate the end of a wildly popular first year. Stewart has yet to announce his post-Daily Show plans, but even if he retires, the genre seems more than capable of carrying on without him.

The insularity of the article is betrayed by the author’s assumption that liberal-dominated fake news shows represent the pinnacle of achievement in humor. The implicit belief is that conservative “failure” in this domain is indicative of an inherent conservative inability to appreciate or master the finer arts of funny, such as irony and satire.

Whenever I read masturbatory liberal articles like this one, I cross-check the article’s biases with my personal experience to see if there’s a match; if there is, I give the liberal the benefit of the doubt that it’s onto something. (It rarely is.) If not, I don’t immediately write off the liberal conclusion, but I don’t give it much merit either. In the real world, where all that matters is how much I laugh, I’ve been friends with quite a few liberal and conservative funnymen (and a smattering of funnywomen). But the funniest guys I’ve known were all far right of center rascally SOBs. Online, the situation is similar. I think the Christian sadists at MPC are funny as hell, and no one can accuse them of being Leibowitz lackeys.

Could it be that American political satire is biased toward liberals in the same way that American political talk radio is biased toward conservatives? Dannagal Young, an assistant professor of communications at the University of Delaware, was looking into the lack of conservative comedians when she noticed studies that found liberals and conservatives seemed to have different aesthetic tastes. Conservatives seemed to prefer stories with clear-cut endings. Liberals, on the other hand, had more tolerance for a story like public radio’s Serial, which ends with some uncertainty and ambiguity.

Yes, how those leftoids love ambiguity and nuance. You can see it in how they assiduously avoid unambiguously pigeonholing, for instance, rednecks.

Framing is one of the most interesting game concepts, and it’s because it has applicability well beyond the context of picking up girls. The supposed leftoid love for uncertainty and ambiguity is just as accurately expressed as a leftoid fear of judgment. Which, when you think about it, makes survival sense. An effete liberal manlet benefits from a society that refuses to judge it unworthy of inclusion.

Young began to wonder whether this might explain why liberals were attracted in greater numbers to TV shows that employ irony. Stephen Colbert, for example, may say that he’s looking forward to the sunny weather that global warming will bring, and the audience members know this isn’t what he really means. But they have to wonder: Is he making fun of the kind of conservative who would say something so egregious? Or is he making fun of arrogant liberals who think that conservatives hold such extreme views?

Liberal audiences love liberal showmen who vigorously pump their priors. I doubt there’s a single SWPL viewer who doesn’t know that Colbert is on its side.

As Young noticed, this is a kind of ambiguity that liberals tend to find more satisfying and culturally familiar than conservatives do. In fact, a study out of Ohio State University found that a surprising number of conservatives who were shown Colbert clips were oblivious to the fact that he was joking.

Good lord. How often are liberal SJWs oblivious to the humor in racially-tinted jokes? Maybe people just don’t find jokes funny when they’re targeted at firmly held beliefs.

In contrast, conservative talk radio humor tends to rely less on irony than straightforward indignation and hyperbole.

I haven’t heard a shortage of liberals engaging in indignation and hyperbole.

When Rush Limbaugh took down Georgetown student and birth-control activist Sandra Fluke in 2012, he called her a “slut” in order to drive home his point about state-mandated birth control. After the liberal blogosphere erupted with derision, Limbaugh responded with more jokes, asking that Fluke post videos of her sex online so taxpayers could see what they were paying for. (After a few days, he offered a public apology, insisting that he “did not mean a personal attack” on Fluke.)

Here we detect the primary driver of conservative retreat, if it exists, from political satire: Conservatives are constrained by the reigning leftoid Hivemind orthodoxies. Conservatives with audiences larger than three people have a limited ability to skewer liberal shibboleths without getting into serious career-ending trouble. Limbaugh’s backpedaling slut smear apology is Exhibit S. Has a leftoid on any of these fake news shows ever had to grovel before the inquisition for maliciously slandering a right-wing representative? No. They have license to smear their right-wing targets, something that non-leftoids cannot do to with the same gusto to sanctified liberal targets like Sandra Fluke.

Conservatives will never win at this game until they begin the process of chipping away at the bedrock of the Narrative. This means AGREEING & AMPLIFYING when the usual liberal accusations are cavalierly leveled. For example, once accused of slut shaming, Limbaugh should’ve had whole skit about Fluke mentally calculating the number of cocks she could raw dog on a $10 supply of pills. (zank you, i’ll be in all zee veek.)

If non-leftoids had the same freedom to parody cherished liberal icons — race, sex, eskimos, SWPLs, new atheists — with the same venom, I bet you’d see plenty of right-wing Daily Shows pop up. Right now, that freedom isn’t there, so mainstream righties have to stick with the liberal script, which in practice means essentially agreeing with the fundamentals of liberal progressivism while making feeble feints against the rapidity of that progress to which they have already tacitly acceded as inevitable.

Despite these societal biases against a conservative satirical uprising, I still think there could be an innate disposition in liberals that favors ambiguity and uncertainty. I think this because women also love ambiguity and uncertainty, particularly in the realm of romance, and we know women are more liberal than men. We also know liberal men are more womanly than conservative men (and this jibes with personal observation), so it’s not much of a logical leap to deduce that liberals in general are on the whole more womanly and thus more frightened of harsh moral dividing lines and of the judgment of peers.

*I invented the term of art “leftoid” because it captures the anti-human nature of the liberal vision, and the robotic incantations with which liberals autonomically resort to defending their faith when attacked by apostates.

PS Here’s a fantastically brutal judgment of Jon Leibowitz in the Post. Money shot:

Stewart is a journalist: an irresponsible and unprofessional one.

He is especially beloved by others in the journo game. (For every 100 viewers, he generated about 10 fawning profiles in the slicks, all of them saying the same thing: The jester tells the truth!)

Any standard liberal publication was as likely to contain an unflattering thought about Stewart as L’Osservatore Romano is to run a hit piece on the pope.

The hacks have a special love for Stewart because he’s their id. They don’t just think he’s funny, they thrill to his every sarcastic quip. They wish they could get away with being so one-sided, snarky and dismissive.

That’s it right there. Leibowitz and his ilk succeed because the entirety of the media industrial complex share the same targets of hate. That’s why he gets so much positive ink, and why he’s catapulted into icon status, however pinched and domed the arena in which he rules.

The leftoid machine is a hate machine, and but for the pretense of objectivity that constrains “journalists” they’d all be taking up pitchforks and driving their hated enemies — core white Americans — into the flames, cackling like maniacs the whole time.

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Asshole Game Week: Day One is here. Day Two here. Day Three here.

Pijama Wearing Ninja provides a clinic on how to pick up sexy girls at the gym with nothing but a devil-may-care recklessness and a honed talent for segueing every subject into one with sexual overtones.

I went to the gym today and the only girl in there with both a cute face and body was doing squats and I complimented her on not being a cardio girl and told her that soon she will squat as much as me. We talked about guys who don’t train legs for a minute and how they’re the equivalent of cardio girls in the gym. She asked me what happened to me (as in to my knee) and I told her penis reduction surgery. She laughed and asked me why is my scar on my knee then and I told her that the surgeon was very clumsy. She giggled so I told her that I don’t like girls who laugh at injured people. I told her I have to go and told her my name and she told me hers and extended her hand and I told her that she probably has calloused hands from all the squatting so kissed her cheek and took her number.

That was… fuckin poetry. There’s a lot going on. Let’s unpack it.

PWN’s opener is at once a fronthanded and a backhanded compliment. congrats for eschewing cardio in favor of squats… oh and soon you will have legs like strong masculine man.

He moves into humorously DLVing his competition. (this is pua jargon for “tearing other guys down”).

Then there’s his refusal to give a straight answer, opting instead for the flirty, sexualized tease of “penis reduction surgery”. (Beta males are notoriously bad at answering women’s questions with anything but logical, tingle-killing coherence.)

He punches up his momentum with a sterling disqualification: “I don’t like girls who laugh at injured people.” Push-pull is the metronome of seduction.

He exits the conversation first, but not before delivering a final, asshole-caliber taunt: “I told her she probably has calloused hands from all the squatting.”

And then, of course, the physical escalation at the end is a move no non-asshole would dare attempt.

PWN follows up:

I think I’ll invite her for some minigolf this weekend or next week and the loser would have to buy the winner an alcoholic drink of their choosing*. Mine will be a glass of wine. I like good wines so that will also give me something to DHV with and girls love wine. The minigolf place is really close to a winebar and both are 20 minutes away of walking from my place, which has a pretty good skyline. Too bad it’s winter and I can’t just have a walk with her due to the cold and the skyline will be blocked by the fog. FUCK WINTER!

Pickup during winter is probably the lamest, especially if the girls will bond to you and expect gifts on Valentines, another similar day we have here, 1st of March and 8th of March. Back in the days of abundance, I always fought with my girls on purpose and rekindled or found new ones after this month of financial carnage. I seriously prefer buying my mother lots of flowers than wasting my money on silly tarts. lol

*used to teach girls if I was beating them really bad, which was good excuse to kino. Rusty now so not sure I’ll get to do it.

What kind of man but an asshole would deliberately fight with girlfriends as a con to get out of buying V-Day gifts and dinners?

By Asshole Game standards, PWN’s gym pickup marginally qualifies, but inclusion into the world of sexxxy assssssholes is relative to the competition. The marching mass of mediocrities known affectionately as beta males wouldn’t talk this way to a girl even in their Casanova-conjuring dreams. And that is why they fail.

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Asshole Game Week: Day One is here. Day Two here.

What happens when you totally bail on a woman? She fumes and refuses to ever talk to you again? She waves off the thought of you with a dismissive mental gesture? Or… something else?

Commenter Hosswire writes,

About a year ago, after voraciously clicking through all of the glorious Chateau’s game posts I decided to up my asshole game with a hot 20-something (I’m 41) half-black acrobat (blackrobat) chick I had just won over with my new arrogant & sexually entitled persona.

This reads like the voice-over intro to a Swingers-esque indie flic.

At that time, I had seen enough results to know that CH precepts were effective, though felt like there were levels of assholeness that created counterproductive results. So I was, like, 95% convinced.

There are levels of assholery that can be counterproductive, and this is in large part contextual. More desperate older, uglier or chubbier women will wilt under the kind of sustained asshole attack that would send a younger, hotter, tighter woman into an upward spiral of horny delirium.

Anyway. This chick was part of an aerial acrobatic (Cirque de Soleil shit) school & invited me to her Winter show. Bought me tickets, introduced me to her friends, made a big production out of it.

Halfway through the show, for no other reason than to be a dick, I got up & walked out.

Twenty minutes later, I got a text:

Her: Did you really leave?

I waited a good 10-15 minutes before replying.

Me: Meeting some friends for drinks

Note the lack of apology or excuse. If you’re gonna play the asshole game, you’ve got to appear comfortable with your rule-breaking mystique. Don’t flinch!

Three minutes later, I realized that it was literally impossible to be too big an asshole for women when I got this text:

Her: When are you going to be home? I am going to rock your world tonight.

That night, with the help of some coconut oil from my kitchen I experienced every orifice of that dusky beauty. Color me 100% convinced now. Asshole game works.

Topically administered medium-chain triglyceride sex is the healthy alternative.

I wouldn’t infer too much about the effectiveness of asshole game from the biracial nature of the lead temptress. I’ll have a post related to the race-asshole game nexus soon but, in short, although there is reason to think a Rushtonian “Rule of Three” governs the receptiveness of women from different races to asshole game, I’ve found that there are attenuating variables that work against a broad racial disposition.

For instance, the white men in upscale WM-BW couples are often very beta-ish, or at least not at all like the wiggers you’d expect. I suspect that the higher class black women willing to date outside their race are the sort of women craving a dependable, faithful provider, and are therefore less likely than their sun-baked sistren to require the courtship equivalent of a crotch grab to grab their attention.

A more pertinent factor is the degree of femininity of the biracial beauty. It’s a good bet that a half-black acrobat is out on the far right side of the black woman bell curve for slenderness and femininity, and, if my experience and SCIENCE tell us something, it’s that young, highly feminine women of any race tend to be the most receptive to asshole game. So, if this “blackrobat” loves her assholes, it’s probably less a consequence of her racial pedigree than it is of her femininity.

PS I don’t know Hosswire’s race (his tone suggests non-black), but whatever it is, it wouldn’t much alter my analysis.

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Asshole Game Week: Day One is here.

Reader ‘Hackett To Bits’ summons the animating spirit of the Olympian god Prickicissus.

It feels good to find that different reality.

Me: 45 yo, (amicably) divorced
She: 23 yo waif/neurotic in the booty call zone

Some grousers are gonna say, “well, she isn’t interested in a relationship”, conveniently missing the point that hot booty call sex with a 23yo kitten beats the stuffing out of stuffing an aging beauty with relationship glue. Also missing the point that to get to a relationship, it helps to first be fucking the girl.

Recent text chat snippet:

Me: No one can resist jerk man
She: You’re not that cute.
Me: Doesn’t matter, jerk man doesn’t need to be
She: You’re overly confident and full of yourself
Me: Aww shucks
She: Point proven
Me: (emoticon wearing shades)

NO ONE has ever called me ‘overly confident’ before…oh I’m feeling it now.

You should be. Chicks dig overconfident men who act pleased as punch with themselves.

There are a lot of game concepts in play here. There’s the avoidance of defensiveness. “Doesn’t matter, jerk man doesn’t need to be” Agree&Amplify. “Aww shucks” And emoji game.

In a few short texts, Hackett conveyed a master class in jerkboy charisma game. This is the kind of uncaring asshole teasing that hot young women hungrily lap up. It’s not indicative of the extremes in assholery that a man can achieve, but it is within the sphere of behavior that characterizes smug prickitude, which is so tantalizing and arousing to women.

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