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Archive for the ‘Inner Beauty’ Category

You can tell a lot about what people really value by… eureka!… listening to their conversations.

Women sometimes talk about sex — and they can be surprisingly raunchy recalling or imagining the details of intimate congress — but sex talk is hardly a major focus of their socializing amongst girl friends. Usually, one girl (the token slut) will crack a joke about the shape of the penis she inhaled and the others will collaterally cackle as part of an alliance preserving exercise. The smutcluck is dropped quickly for extended emphasis on subjects nearer and dearer to the female heart: Relationships and love.

(Slutwalk women who stick with the raunch talk for an awkwardly uncomfortable length of conversational air space tend to elicit disapproving glares and then social abandonment from their girl friends. Chicks have a limited capacity for enduring sex talk, even in their female friends.)

When women veer into R&L, as is the frequent wont of their meandering sex, their conversation assumes a VERY SERIOUS TONE.

***

INTERCHANGEABLE GIRL #1: “We’re back together.”

INTERCHANGEABLE GIRL #2: “Oh really! I didn’t know…”

INTERCHANGEABLE GIRL #!: “You didn’t know?”

[twenty  more minutes of delicate social maneuvering before getting to the meat of the topic]

INTERCHANGEABLE GIRL #2: “It’s just that he did this really nice thing and I really love that.”

INTERCHANGEABLE GIRL #1: “mmhmm, yeah that’s sweet.”

INTERCHANGEABLE GIRL #2: “And anyhow I think he tried to say he loves me.”

INTERCHANGEABLE GIRL #1: “He dropped the L word! Wow, that’s big.”

INTERCHANGEABLE GIRL #2: “Yeah, I know!”

[two more hours of hot debate about the precise wording of the boyfriend’s confession and whether it counts as a sincere exclamation of love. tack on another hour of girls #1, 3, and 4 alternately affirming girl #2’s decision to stay with her boyfriend and playing a gentle devil’s advocate for dumping the guy.]

***

Men, in the starkest of contrasts, rarely, if ever, have conversations about R&L. Instead, what do cool dudes talk about when the subject isn’t sports, work or hobbies?

***

ONE OF A KIND COOL DUDE #1: “So what happened last night? I saw you hitting on that hot blonde.”

ALSO ONE OF A KIND COOL DUDE #2: “Dude, I got her back to my place!”

VERILY, ONE OF A KIND COOL DUDE #3: “No shit! Did you tap it?”

ALSO ONE OF A KIND COOL DUDE #2: “Oh man, she was crazy. She was down on my knob, doing this thing…”

[twenty minutes of high fives and rapt attention as excruciatingly crude, detailed account is told of sex positions and composition of female squirt juice.]

NOT SO COOL DUDE #4: “Man, great stuff. Does this mean you’re gonna date her for a while?”

[sound of air being let out of balloon. full-body group cringing and disappointed looks exchanged.]

ONE OF A KIND COOL DUDE #1: “How ’bout those Dodgers?”

***

The examples I presented here are highly illustrative of real life among normal psychologically healthy human beings, but neither presupposes that men never concern themselves with relationships and love, nor that women are never interested in talking about sex. The key difference between the sexes is this:

Women are primarily interested in R&L, and secondarily interested in sex. Men are primarily interested in sex, and secondarily interested in R&L.

To punctuate the point, try to imagine a conversation between men that focused on R&L without any familiar, tension-alleviating digressions into sex talk.

***

BUTTPLAY ENTHUSIAST MANLET #1: “We’re back together. It’s been one month.”

BUTTPLAY ENTHUSIAST MANLET #2: “Aww! Tell me all about it!”

BUTTPLAY ENTHUSIAST MANLET #1: “Wellllll… she’s been really good to me lately.”

BUTTPLAY ENTHUSIAST MANLET #2: “That’s really great.”

BUTTPLAY ENTHUSIAST MANLET #1: “AAAAaaaand… I think she might’ve said she loves me.”

BUTTPLAY ENTHUSIAST MANLET #2: “Wow, that’s huge! How did that come up?”

BUTTPLAY ENTHUSIAST MANLET #1: “I’m not ENTIRELY sure she said the EXACT words ‘i love you’ but it sounded like she was trying to say them.”

BUTTPLAY ENTHUSIAST MANLET #2: “I knew there was something between you two!”

***

Preposterous on the face of it. No straight man has a conversation like this with his buddies, unless he’s auditioning for a part in a Broadway play called “My Colon For Old Fags” or “My Own Private Hide-A-Pole”.

Yes, yes, so many of you are shocked by this news. “Tell us something we don’t know, CH.” But we have entered a cultural dystopia when this common sense is rapidly being distorted and replaced by feminist and manlet poopytalk. Tragically, some of the SJW poopytalk is reaching the ears of impressionable naifs, and setting some of them on a course for self-destruction, especially those whose emotional stability is marginal.

There are CH readers with children. One of these naifs swallowing feminist slut cunt lies by the bucketful could one day be your daughter.

When bitterbitches ape the mannerisms and sociosexual predilections of men, their butthurt try-hardness is a transparent ruse all but the lappiest lapdogs can see through. A girl screeching about “opening her legs for every man BUT YOU” is assuming a twisted, false pride in a domain normally and healthfully reserved for men which she knows, deep inside where the armor of her lies yields to the rumbling growl of her id, is a phony front serving no purpose other than blind rage at the retreating world of a good man’s sincere love leaving her behind.

Case in point: The “dick is abundant and low value” girl I had to disembowel as a lesson for the others. With much pain and sorrow in my heart, I took the shiv to her exposed ego and performed a necessary duty. A duty that perhaps would, one day, somewhere, and in a fashion that social science studies would struggle to capture in their arid data sets, rescue an innocent young woman or young man from living by the lies of a loser in love.

For those still wondering what this is all about, a revelation. Above all, Le Chateau abides the Keats’ ode: “Beauty is truth, truth beauty.” Our glorious, gleaming civilization is getting uglier and further from the truth by the day. A mind full of lies contorts the body into misshapen ugliness. An ugly visage will infect the mind with ego-assuaging lies. Lies must be exposed at birth, or they will grow monstrous and consume everything beautiful in their path. In the wake of lies, ugliness follows like a toxic spindrift.

Therefore, the CH Excalibur… the Holy Heartistian Shiv… drives through the bullshit until the gore stains the hilt, so that beauty and truth may once again assert their rightful place as earthly host to humanity, and the loveless lampreys, despite their worst fears, find to their surprise a new hope for a better life…… or slink away to the icy outback where their limbic disease is quarantined to their own souls.

UPDATE

❤️SCIENCE❤️ presents her rump and accepts a meaty intrusion from yours truly before looking over her shoulder with love in her eyes.

Findings reveal that while communication patterns tend to be supportive and relationship-focused in women’s bathrooms, the graffiti in men’s bathroom walls are replete with sexual content and insults, in the course of the construction of hegemonic masculinity.

H/t commenter Strahlemann. The sex-based difference in predilection for R&L or sex talk is evident even in anonymous bathroom stalls. Chicks scrawl odes to LTRs. Men scratch sonnets to sexual slang.

If you play on Team CH, you bat 1.000. How can you not like those odds?

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In my years of living, dating, and loving across these United Plates, I’ve come to certain conclusions about women drawn from a wellspring of eagle-eyed observations and red raw experiences. One of my personal observations is that smarter women tend, for various reasons among which female hypergamy must surely loom prominent, to have more difficulty locking down a long-term boyfriend, and to stay single far longer in between relationship bouts, than do women of less Hollywood-sized prefrontal-pectorals. And this romantic failure is worse the smarter the woman.

But, I didn’t have the benefit of ¡scientifical! studies to confirm my observations, so I guess I should have washed my brain of any pattern recognition inputs and waited the requisite fifty years for the scientific consensus to come to a prevailing view.

As I’ve always said, if you keep your eyes open and live not by pretty lies, 80% of the patterns you observe about human nature will eventually be proven true by laboratory analysis (or at least recognized as a real phenomenon by cultural gatekeepers). (15% of the remaining 20% are too difficult to properly measure by social scientists, and the last 5% of your observations can be grouped under conventional wisdom that science manages to overturn, usually by data-twisting legerdemain.)

From the article relevant to this post, the quotes that make feminists choke:

A study conducted with 121 British participants reported findings that females with high intelligence in male/female relationships were seen as problematic.

Their intelligence were predicted to cause problems in the relationships. Whereas, high intelligence in the male partner was not seen as problematic, but desirable. […]

Why don’t men want women with whom they can converse and who challenge them? [ed: spot the false premise] When did the aversion to strong and intelligent women become a code orange? When did everyone just want to go to the Bahamas and lie around?

In an article by “The Wire,” financial reporter, John Carney, gives one explanation for this phenomenon, deducing, “successful men date less successful women not because they want ‘women to be dumb’ but rather because they want ‘someone who prioritizes their life in a way that’s compatible with how you prioritize yours.’”

Basically, they want someone who isn’t ever going to let her career come before making dinner and pleasing them first.

My take is that men, especially smart men, instinctively recoil from very smart and/or educated women (in the same way women instinctively recoil from needy niceguys) because men know that a woman of equal or greater brainpower or academic achievement is a high risk for future relationship instability and a latent threat to paternity assurance. Men are aware, consciously perhaps, subconsciously definitely, that female hypergamy is real and therefore it’s personally advantageous to find women who aren’t too much more gifted in traits that double as male mate fitness cues.

In short, it pays men to date up in looks and date down in everything else.

The inverse is also true. It pays women to date down in looks and date up in everything else.

Everyone’s happier all around if they abide the above two Heartistian precepts.

A reader contemptuously adds,

Nearly schizophrenic incoherence, self-loathing, generalized rage, sexual frustration, pride that she can’t admit that a life has been spent believing pretty, stupid lies and making irretrievable mistakes, contempt and hatred for men on one hand, yet demands and pangs of hopeless desire for their attention and affection and love on the other hand, unabashed hatred for women who are young and attractive and willing to make love and devotion to a man a priority in their lives.

This hamster wheel is spinning at 10,000 revolutions per second. The axle is going red-hot from the friction.  The spinning wheel is making a sharp, high-pitched, painful screeching sound, which sets your teeth on edge. If you listen carefully millions just like it are audible all over America.

This can’t go on much longer.  10 years, maybe. But not 50. Probably not another entire generation.

Future generations will look back on the women of this era with disgusted amazement.

Before then they are going to spend the second 50 years of their medically extended lives alone and filled with a despair and a hatred for their own lives and for the lives of those around them who have managed to be happy which is going to poison our society for many years to come.

If they weren’t so vicious and destructive you could almost feel sorry for them.

I do think we Americans are living through a period (heh) when women are at their absolute worst. Porn addicted manlet men aren’t much better, but this dystopia is largely a female-centered implosion.

There’s a gene-culture co-evolution process that describes how groups have self-balancing mechanisms, so that when one type of organism within the group becomes too numerous, a competing type will start to have greater reproductive success to “bring balance to the force”. I forget the term for it, but the classic case is the “cheater-cooperator” evolutionary strategies, in which cheaters prosper (and hence reproductively prosper) in cooperative societies, but then lose ground to cooperators when cheaters become too numerous and start poaching each other.

Well, a similar thing could be happening with SMRT women. The more smart over-educated over-credentialed women a society has, the less reproductively fit they become at the same time women with average smarts become more reproductively fit. The group shifts its evolutionary strategy toward smarter or dumber women as each becomes prominent. Maybe this is why human IQ hasn’t continued upward into the stratosphere…. smart men get tired of the haranguing from smart women and smart women get locked out of the dating market because there aren’t very many men smarter than them who can satisfy their hypergamous urgings, and they resist settling for dumber men.

Related, the supply of beta males in a group could also fluctuate according to some cosmic balancing mechanism that favors or disfavors betas depending on their numbers. The rise of pathologically altruistic white beta males in the West is producing blowback as their ranks swell with self-abnegating ankle-biters. Ultra violent thugs or ultra charming cads are starting to increase in impression, if not yet in number, and women are turning to them for relief from the effete beta male masses.

It’s a spitball, I know, but maybe it’s high time for the patented CH BOSSS strategy to invigorate our culture to take center stage? Maybe it already has and we’re just now waking up to the fact?

PS Really smart women fuck like demonesses. They love their contraceptively-enabled fucking as much as any sub-mensa slut.

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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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Have you noticed the dearth of original ideas coming out of Hollywood? The problem is that a good idea needs a companion in the truth. And our culture has turned violently away from the truth. Consequently, novel ideas in all art forms are getting rarer.

Reader PA suggests a Crimson Pill movie idea that’s both fresh and honest.

I wonder if rape victims who experienced orgasms mid rape were capable of having vaginal orgasms in their normal lives.

You’re writing a screenplay for a drama/thriller involving a normal, happily married woman who was just brutally raped and came hard in the throes of the assault. Her husband is a normal blue-pill greater beta who suddenly finds her unable to have vaginal sex. The husband goes through tears and frustration, and self-defeating attempts at being “supportive” and then finds a crimson arts blog and makes a plan to transform himself into a Love-Heisenberg, to save the marriage.

Do you simply graft the script of “9 and 1/2 Weeks” from here on, or is there another approach?

Throw in a paint-by-numbers overcredentialed marriage counselor, a spiteful feminist BFF, and an undersexed white knight friend of the husband who secretly desires his wife, and you’ve got yourself boffo box office!

By the way, Fifty Shades of Grey, if you don’t already know, is a complete rip-off of the vastly superior Mickey Rourke-Kim Bassinger erotic movie Nine 1/2 Weeks. Ferkrissake, the male lead’s character name in Nine 1/2 is “John Gray”. I’m surprised critics have failed to note the similarities. It’s canny enough that the producers of Nine 1/2 (and the writer of the book on which the movie is based) have grounds to sue the fat pig who wrote Fifty Shades.

Bassinger’s character, Elizabeth, in Nine 1/2 also falls for a badboy with a sadistic streak. (Girls can’t help themselves.) There is a rape scene in which Elizabeth has a powerful orgasm. She is both bewildered and entranced by her body’s betrayal of her good sense. The movie has a sort of audience-stroking happy ending, when Elizabeth, deeply in love with John but emotionally broken by his intensifying manipulations (he has her watch a prostitute service him in a hotel room), leaves him, but in so doing turns her back on a piece of her womanhood. There’s a subtext that she will never joyously submit to that kind of fiery passion again.

(John should’ve balanced all that anxiety-inducement with some comfort. Game 101, man!)

Personally, I would take PA’s idea and make a feint toward a Nine 1/2 Weeks conclusion, except with a Walter White Breaking Badboy twist: The greater beta husband, upon elevating himself as the dominant force in his wife’s life and finally in a position to save their marriage (ironically via a route that mirrors his wife’s confusing rape experience), opts instead to succumb to the temptations of his reinvention. I’d also change the deus ex machina from a blog to a player buddy, or perhaps to a death row inmate with a pile of marriage proposals from adoring female fans. Internet-hemmed epiphanies don’t play well on screen.

Submission to a man worthy of it is engraved in a woman’s soul. She will deny it, the Hivemind will deny it, the pedestal-polishing plushboys will deny it as they politely discuss financial outlooks over the din of insistent pleat-imprisoned chubbies in sterile offices with gogrrl droids in pencil skirts, but when the blinds are closed and the darkness descends, every woman will arch her back to meet the lovely, exquisite pain of an icy caress.

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An inability to get easily bored may be racially distributed. Peter Frost discusses studies that show Asians are less monotony averse than Europeans, and this trait likely evolved from selection pressures created by rice farming. Probably related to this race difference in boredom avoidance, Chinese infants show a greater toleration to disturbance than do White infants.

A tolerance for boredom seems a prerequisite for diligence and studiousness. People who bore easily can’t sit still long enough to imbibe pages and pages of information. They have trouble finding personal satisfaction in rote learning. Conscientious students are often also risk averse and, less charitably, dull. But boy are they good at doing their homework and maximizing their GPAs.

In the context of modern credentialist society, a high tolerance for boredom is beneficial. Restlessness isn’t a trait of a good globocorporate cog. But boredom toleration can go too far, culminating as an inert man with a weak inner fire to propel him to greatness beyond his immediate practical concerns.

The personality sweet spot would be where focus, conscientiousness, curiosity, nonconformism, and yearning come together in a human supernova of creativity and accomplishment. This sweet spot may explain why Europeans dominated global exploration.

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A reader passed along this graph, but I don’t know the source. It looks like a graph cobbled together by a feminist or feminist-friendly manboob trying to artificially extend the sexual market viability of aging beauties. See if you can spot the category errors.

The Y-axis is “percentage of potential”, which presumably means the percentage of maximum potential beauty that a woman at a given age possesses. So, from the graph, a 15-year-old teenager has achieved 40% of her maximum potential beauty. A 50-year-old woman is on the downslope of her beauty curve and has 85% of her maximum potential beauty remaining (*snort*).

The three lines are “external attractiveness” (physical beauty, which is pretty much the kitten and caboodle), “internal attractiveness” (aka inner beauty, which counts for a little), and “combined attractiveness” (the total attractiveness of a woman after her outer and inner beauty have been factored together).

If you haven’t got it yet, the category errors are:

1. The curve is much too generous to older women. There’s no way in the real world that a 60-year-old woman possesses the same amount of beauty as her 17-year-old self.

2. The inner beauty curve is likewise unrealistic. The typical woman’s personality and femininity reaches its maximum at age 70 (and up)? By whose standard? Oh yeah, by the standard of delusional feminists. If nothing else, aging subtracts IQ points, so 70-year-old women are likely not the sparkling conversationalists they were at age 25 (though they may occasionally drop gems of wisdom).

3. Finally, the combined attractiveness curve is worthless because it rests on the false premise that a woman’s external and internal attractiveness are equally valuable to her romantic prospects.

Here’s the improved, Chateau Heartiste version of the Female Total Attractiveness-Age Curve:

Much better. Red line is beauty (dispensing with the “external” redundancy), green line is inner beauty.

As you can see, the red line more accurately reflects the average woman’s external attractiveness trajectory. For most women who haven’t concealed their natural slender youthful beauty under an arctic-stressed layer of blubber, their peak beauty will occur between ages 15 and 25. The average woman will therefore max out in beauty at age 20. Unusual exceptions that desperate cougars trot out in support of an argument to the contrary prove the rule.

Past age 20, women begin the retreat from their maximum potential beauty. The fade is slow at first (as reflected in the less precipitous drop of the right side of the beauty curve), and this initially slow deterioration gives women a five to ten year graceless period to hone their self-delusion skills. “I’ll find a great guy when I’m 30!” CH: “No you won’t. You’ll settle for less, and your gogrrl friends will lie to you about this fact.”

By age 30, a woman is down to about 85% of her previous beauty high. At this stage of the game, she can no longer deny the tribute her skin and sag have paid to the überpatriarch, Father Time. It might not be evident yet under winter clothes, but it sure is the morning after twixt the bedsheets.

Now the decline accelerates in earnest. Age 35: 60% of former glory. Age 40: 40% of former glory (equivalent to her incipient preteen beauty buds). Age 50: 10%. For the typical woman, the Wall — the age at which she becomes sexually worthless to any man who isn’t legally obligated to assuage her fears — strikes sometime in her mid-50s. Almost no women beyond age 60 are capable of inciting genuine boners in any (white or asian) man.

The green line — inner beauty — is also adjusted to more accurately portray what’s going on with the average woman’s personality as she ages. This one is trickier to pin down than physical beauty, so I’ll explain.

A woman’s “internal attractiveness” covers a lot of territory, but if we are concerned with how she’ll fare romantically then we can pare back the number of relevant personality and temperament dimensions to only those that will contribute to, or subtract from, her dating or marital success. When it comes to “inner beauty”, the female traits that matter are those traits that men find delightful about women’s nonsexual (and sometimes sexual) company. This would include:

Her cheerfulness.
Her kindness.
Her submissiveness (to a greater or lesser degree).
Her coyness (suitably circumscribed).
Her fidelity (slutty aggressiveness has a short shelf life).
Her mothering instinct (does she love animals and children?).
Her gratitude (does she laugh at your jokes and swoon for your kingly mercies?).
Her femininity (does she love your teasing, return the favor, and do it all with a sparkle in her eyes?).
Her focused desire (she is desirous of you, and no other man).
Her patience (she warmly tolerates your masculine eccentricities).
Her self-restraint (she doesn’t nag).

The new and improved green “inner beauty” line closely follows the red “outer beauty” line. This is no coincidence. A woman is most charming when she’s happiest, and a woman is happiest when she’s most desired by men and feels most womanly.

There’s a slight lag in personality development. Generally, women blossom physically before their femininity matures. There’s a bit of catching up to do to the reality that her body inflames the ardor of young and old men alike. But indiscriminate male ardor can also harden the prettier women who come to learn the art of ice queen coldness as a deterrent to mistaken intentions. Thus, the peak of female inner beauty is short-lived, typically occurring during the mid-20s, after she has mastered her feminine wiles but before any single lady bitchiness has robbed some of her charm.

Inner beauty is a moving target and highly susceptible to changes in a woman’s relationship status. Women who ride the 20s-early 30s cock carousel, or who are out of committed relationships more than they’re in them, will succumb to the call of the bitch. Their femininity will disappear under a bunker of nastiness and bitterness. This is why women’s inner beauty line collapses faster than their outer beauty line: If we are talking about a woman’s LTR or marital prospects, then desperation-fueled bitchiness will betray her state of mind before her body betrays her state of hind.

Women who do the smart thing and lock down a man at their beauty peaks (early-mid 20s) won’t have this issue of rapidly deteriorating inner beauty, at least not with the same intensity undergone by unattached women. They will have started families and their happiness will become contingent on their wife and motherhood experiences more than their romantic allure.

That caveat aside, all women, no matter their marital or familial status, will suffer a cratering of inner beauty as their outer beauty abandons them. No one relishes the prospect of aging and body decomposition, but the travail affects women more deeply as they are the sex for whom youthful vainglory is most conspicuously allied with their fortunes of romance. By age 50, a woman will have lost most of that feminine charm she had as a 20-year-old vixen. This fact of womanhood is IQ-independent.

But it never bottoms out like her physical beauty. Past age 50, a woman becomes matronly, finally surrendering the last of her dreams of sultry attractiveness for the serene reality of her asexual, swaddling bosom. At this stage, a woman can jettison the feminine for the grandmotherly and substitute one set of happy personality traits for another. The older woman will never be as scintillating as her young self, but she can be pleasant company, rife with stories and disregard for restricting social etiquette, helped to fruition by the specter of sex banished to fond memory. Thus, a woman at age 70 can be as charming as she was at age 13. Peculiarly, at each end of life, a woman’s asexual allure converges onto a similar precociousness and innocence.

There was no need to draw a revised combined female attractiveness line. Women’s physical beauty is 9/10s of the Wall. Her inner beauty counts for something, particularly when that something is a man’s decision to long-term commitment, but as a factor under consideration by men it hardly budges her outer beauty curve in a more “age-appropriate” direction. The best you can say about women’s inner beauty is that it can bump up female SMV a half point, perhaps a full point as you get into the rarefied air of 8s and higher. (This latter phenomenon is what I call the “Oh shit, she’s hot AND sane!” lottery win.)

These are unkind truths, but they need telling, now more than ever in this time of delusional freaks vomiting their mental disease through every available medium. A woman who does not square up and accept this reality about her inevitable and all-too-swift sex-specific attractiveness decline is setting herself up for an unhappiness far more profound and entrenched than any fleeting discomfort from reading the Rude Word of Heartiste.

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Reader Alif Male passes along an excerpt from an Agatha Christie book.

From “Dumb Witness” Agatha Christie, (1937) Chapter 2

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“But this feeling of hers for Rex Donaldson was different, it went deeper. She felt instinctively that here there would be no passing on…. Her need of him was simple and profound. Everything about him fascinated her. His calmness and detachment, so different from her own hectic, grasping life, the clear, logical coldness of his scientific mind, and something else, imperfectly understood, a secret force in the man masked by his unassuming slightly pedantic manner, but which she nevertheless felt and sensed instinctively.

In Rex Donaldson there was genius – and the fact that his profession was the main preoccupation of his life and that she was only a part – though a necessary part -of existence to him only heightened his attraction for her. She found herself for the first time in her selfish pleasure-loving life content to take second place. The prospect fascinated her. For Rex she would do anything – anything!”
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A crime-writer’s outline sketch of one character written 77 years ago tells more truth about women than the last thousand editions of Cosmopolitan and the entire output of Jezebel put together.

The purpose of glam mags and feminist websites is not the telling of truth; it is the propagation of ego-assuaging pretty lies. Assemblages of words are merely scaffolding women use to scale and repair their crumbling self-conceptions.

Of what does the above excerpt remind you?

III. You shall make your mission, not your woman, your priority

Forget all those romantic cliches of the leading man proclaiming his undying love for the woman who completes him. Despite whatever protestations to the contrary, women do not want to be “The One” or the center of a man’s existence. They in fact want to subordinate themselves to a worthy man’s life purpose, to help him achieve that purpose with their feminine support, and to follow the path he lays out. You must respect a woman’s integrity and not lie to her that she is “your everything”. She is not your everything, and if she is, she will soon not be anymore.

CH never read “Dumb Witness” by Agatha Christie, but as the royal they say, great, and honest, minds think alike.

Women come to despise men who spend their lives placating them. Leave the placating to women. It’s the role to which they are suited, and to which they naturally hew.

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