Oneitis And The Wall: The Two Most Important Life Lessons You Can Impart To Your Sons And Daughters

Mitch Cumstein has a story about a careergrrl nursing pained regret that, while entertaining on its own, contains within it an eternal truth that CH house lords thought proper to feature and expand upon.

Off-topic…a career woman ghost story I thought CH and the readership would enjoy.

I ran into my ex at a party a few days ago. I haven’t seen her in a couple years, but she moved back into town. We used to date and she was into me, but she had to pursue her dreamz out of state. Career woman heh. We did the long distance thing for a couple months before it fizzled out. I wasn’t happy, but I found this site and used it to shed my beta ways over time. I learned to become detached and implemented tips and suggestions here to hook up with other girls. I even used them successfully on the ex a few times to hook up when she was in town, but only until it got boring for me.

So at the party, I was civil and brief. When I got home, I got a text from her, saying how great it was to see me. I texted back, “I did look good, didn’t I?” She ate it right up. Kept texting me for the next day or so, until I dropped the hint that I’m seeing someone and it’s serious. She went silent for about an hour. And then, a string of text bombs.

“I’m afraid that no one will ever love me like you did. When I was younger, I thought career was the most important thing (she was 23), but now, I know better (now she’s 29).” “I fucked up my life by choosing my career and now I only do it in hopes that it pays off somehow.” I poured myself a drink and just watched the confessions pile in. The last one was, “If you wanted to elope this weekend, I would do it.”

Years ago, I was devastated that I lost this snowflake. Fast forward to today, I sit amused as the clock is running out and she’s throwing hail Mary passes. I’m going to take the screen grabs, print them out, and show them to my future kids. To my sons: a lesson about oneitis. Life goes on. Half the people on the planet are women. Find a better one. To my daughters: a lesson about The Wall. It’s real and hits like a motherfucker. Play the game wisely and don’t be left without a chair when the music stops.

Don’t let any mincing manlet tell you otherwise; it feels good to have hand. Power always beats powerlessness.

Now, to the real gem in this post: Oneitis and The Wall. There are many lessons to teach your son or daughter, but these two are the most important for their future happiness. These are lessons that only a father can teach, because, quite frankly, mothers are constitutionally incapable of dispensing useful dating advice to their children, particularly to their sons. Restating Mitch:

Fathers, teach your sons about Oneitis. If there’s one lesson in love that will do them immeasurable good, it’s the belief that girls are interchangeable, at least during the time when a courtship is fresh and finding its footing. Later, when your son graduates to more serious relationships, he can learn to be more selective about the character, personality, and maternal instinct of the women he games into bed woos.

Oneitis is truly the mind killer of men. Besides all the time wasted on THAT ONE GIRL who knows she’s THAT ONE GIRL and parcels her weakly reciprocated interest accordingly, there is the psychological damage Oneitis perpetrates against a young man’s self-conception. Oneitis is the opposite of that crucial alpha male attitude to cultivate: The abundance mentality. Your son will never have that “TAKE HER OR LEAVE HER” attitude that is so intoxicating to women if he pops a years-long hard-on for the red-haired girl with the jerk boyfriend.

Fathers, tell your sons, “Don’t get hung up on this one girl. I know what you’re feeling… I’ve been there. And I’m telling you from experience that you’ll be far better off, and feel so much happier, if you allow more women into your life, and don’t put so much of your faith and hopes in any one of them.”

After teaching your son about Oneitis, teach him about Game.

Fathers, teach your daughters about The Wall. So much regret, spinsterhood, low fertility, and smelly cats can be avoided if young women are sternly and firmly warned against the danger of waiting too long for the right man. Use stark, unsparing language, if necessary. You’d be surprised how much of what you say sinks into their minds, even if in the moment they appear to not be hearing you at all.

Daughters must be cautioned to USE IT OR LOSE IT. Tell her with uncompromising bluntness that she is pretty now, and all the boys notice her, but her prettiness will disappear faster than she knows (or can possibly know at her tender age), and there will come a time, always much sooner than she had hoped, when none of the boys will notice her. And when that time comes, if she doesn’t have a loving husband by then, the rest of her life will be a horrifying trial of inescapable sorrow.

After teaching your daughter about The Wall, teach her about jerkboys and niceguys, and how you know she’ll fall hard for the former, but she must seriously consider giving the less exciting boys a shot, and to be patient with them as their self-confidence grows into adulthood. Tell her, if she does fall deeply in love with a jerkboy, to be certain he is the kind of jerkboy willing to commit to her, and to be aware of the other kind of jerkboy who will most certainly break her heart, if not her body, and leave her less attractive to better men after he is gone.

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The Measure Of A Man By The Women He Keeps

Women serve as an exceptionally accurate barometer for the measure of a man’s attractiveness and social standing. The hotter, sweeter, and more feminine a man’s girlfriend or wife, the likelier it is that man is charismatic, beloved, high status, and possessing those traits and achievements which other men admire and set women on fire.

Reader james1 draws a parallel between this truism and current events, in a comment reprinted from a Steve Sailer thread.

From steve sailor comment #27:

I know love can be a fickle thing, but I am sorry, I just can’t have much respect for Jeb over his choice of a wife. The guy was a wealthy man from a prominent family, not some nouveau riche slob. He went to the finest prep school in the nation. Yet according to his mom, Columba was the first gal he dated. From her bio it appears she might even have been an illegal. Yet Jeb fell hook, line and sinker for her. I wonder if it was the extreme differences in their social positions which allowed him the confidence to think him worthy of her? If so he probably couldn’t deal with any woman in his same social level or even a few levels beneath. No, it took an illegal woman for Jeb to feel comfortable.

I’d like to see Heartiste delve into this one.

Columba is powerful evidence of ¡Yeb! Bush’s intrinsic beta maleness. She is homely and culturally antagonistic to the once-majority anglo-germanic country Jeb presumes to lead. Yes, it’s true, given Jeb’s social status and great wealth he could have done a lot better. A LOT. But he settled for a squat inca who can’t even speak English and looks like a rock troll from the movie Frozen. And she was illegal. I absolutely believe Jeb feels like a worthless beta male in his soul and has horrible inner game, and this is why he only felt comfortable dating an illegal alien housemaid who made him seem like a DOMINANT JERKBOY GOD in comparison.

Do you trust a man who has horrible taste in women, and a lack of confidence in his ability to get and keep better women he truly desires? Do you trust a man who, in his choice of woman, lies to himself every second of every day he must gaze upon her apparition?

Do you want a low self-esteem, dumpster diving beta male with zero confidence in his appeal to English-speaking white American women leading your nation back to greatness?

Or an alpha male who, for all his flaws, has proven he knows how to get the job done when it matters?

No further shivving, yerhonner.

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How To Walk Like An Alpha Male

♂😎SCIENCE😎♂ swoons for Game once again, or rather, for the biomechanical truths explored here at the Chateau. Via reader RedEleven, a slew of studies examining the role of biological sex differences in gaits and other physical motions (there is such a thing as throwing like a girl).

There’s a lab in Canada that does motion capture studies of people and has collected data and produced animations that show distinct differences in the male and female gait.

This interactive flash applet lets you adjust the masculinity-femininity of a wireframe animation.

http://www.biomotionlab.ca/Demos/BMLwalker.html

This WebGL version allows you to rotate the wireframe and toggle between dot mode and skeleton mode:

http://www.biomotionlab.ca/Demos/webgl_walker/webgl_walker.php

And here’s an excerpt from one of the studies they published:

“A framework is outlined that can be employed to obtain gender and other characteristics of the agent from human motion patterns and subsequently use this information to synthesize motion with particular, well-defined biological and psychological attributes.”

And from the discussion section:

“For instance the exaggerated male walker has wider shoulders than hips whereas in the female walker this ratio reverses. Male walkers display considerable lateral body sway whereas this is not the case for female walkers. Hip motion in male walkers is 180 phase shifted with respect to the hip motion in female walkers. The position of the elbows is very different in male and female walkers. Men tend to hold their elbows away from the body whereas women hold them close to the body. In general, the exaggerated man seems to attempt to occupy much more space than the exaggerated woman — a display not unique to the human species. ”

http://www.biomotionlab.ca/Text/WDP2002_Troje.pdf

There’s also an experiment that let’s you guess the gender of these 15-point figures as they walk, run, throw a ball, sit down, etc – based on data capture from real life.

http://www.biomotionlab.ca/Experiments/BMLmdsex/

That first biomotion link provides a few minutes of amusement if you adjust the sliders to MAXIMUM ALPHA MALE.

Male-Female: All the way to the male.
Heavy-Light: All the way to heavy.
Nervous-Relaxed: All the way to relaxed.
Happy-Sad: All the way to happy.

There you go, gentlemen. Mimic the walking motion of the MAXIMUM ALPHA MALE:

Elbows out.
Lateral sway in the upper body.
Knees high and out on the leg up-swing.
A little bit of bounce in your step. (“Get air” in your walk.)

In other words, lope like a pimp nigra.

j/k, but only sort of. Fact is, an alpha male gait that will turn on women is going to somewhat resemble a pimp roll. But Hwhyten it up. You don’t need to go the full gorilla to have an effect on lovely lady loins.

And whatever you do, don’t sashay your hips. Unless you’re John Scalzi, who is all about the swish.

BONUS: If you hoist iron, the resulting growth in your muscles and neural connections will naturally conform your gait into one that is more alpha male than beta male.

The second link is even funnier to watch in MAXIMUM ALPHA MALE MODE, (if not as educational), because it’s a full skeleton instead of a dot skeleton. You can practically see the silverback hair and prominent brow ridge.

How did you do on the “guess the sex” biomotion test at the last link? Your venerable Chateau host got 8/10 on the first sequence and 17/20 on the second sequence. Not bad considering the only clue to the sexes was a dot figure performing different motions. Do I know this because real world sex differences in gait and physical motion shape my impressions? Or do I know this because I was born with a mental template deep in my hindbrain that subconsciously informs my instinctive impressions? It’s probably both: Our genes create our sex differences, and our culture organically reinforces our genetic imprints.

Conclusion: The sexes are intrinsically, innately, immutably… biomechanically different!

Feminists, male and female? You there?

*crickets*

What about MAXIMUM ALPHA FEMALE MODE (i.e, how would an HB10 walk)?

Set the dot skeleton sliders in the first link to:

100% Female.
80% Light.
80% Relaxed.
80% Sad.

Try it, and I think you’ll agree that this female gait is the sexiest to male eyes.

Why? Because sex differences in mating psychology are telegraphed through our gaits. The HB10 is at her sexiest when she’s walking with:

– a 100% female gait
– a light step, but not so light she looks like a flaky slut
– a generally relaxed gait, but with a hint of nervousness that suggests vulnerability
– some perceptible sadness, because a 100% happy woman looks too strident and chirpy to properly ping those male radars for vulnerable faire maidens.

I hope this post has been as informative to open-minded readers as it has been hurtful and distressing to equalist fruit cups.

Update

Commenter mendozatorres notes that the more “male” the dot figure, the greater the “crotch thrust” and the wider the man-spreading! Spread those legs out, men, and let your hog light shine! The women want a show. And, vice versa, when the figure goes from male to female, the crotch area sways more, like a pendulum tantalizingly swinging a basket of fruit at its end.

***

From commenter “its me”:

50/75/25/75 – effeminate homo/hipster walk lzozlzolzzolzzolzzozlz

It’s lzozlol because it’s true.

PS Fat-woman-who-has-given-up-on-life walk: 75/0/100/100. She looks like she’s ready to fall through the earth.

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A Proper Introduction

A reader whose handle I forgot asks,

I thought you might have a post about this or would have some good suggestions: you know when you’re in a big group of new people and they have a “introduce yourself” for everyone–and to say “one thing that is interesting about you”. What’s some good ideas that are appropriate but somewhat interesting for the ladies in the group? Something serious, something funny, joking etc

Your question appears to imply a formal setting, like a work retreat or a school function or an AA meeting. Am I right? Because if it’s a casual venue, like a bar, where one girl, the social butterfly, is rushing around trying to get everyone to meet each other, then the range of your workable responses would be much wider.

If it’s a casual context, may the charismatic jerkboy force be with you:

“My name is Santa Claus. Stop asking lame questions or you’re getting a lump of coal this year.”

If it’s more formal:

“Hi, I’m [Neptune’s Uni-Pronged Trident]. Something interesting about me…. I sleep eight hours a night.”

This is a form of self-disqualification, and in the right circumstances (such as this one), it can be a DHV — demonstration of higher value — to 1) answer a serious question with a glib reply and 2) self-deprecate when it is obvious that you don’t really mean it.

This is far from the only way to parlay a contrived social situation to your personal SMV advantage. For example,

“Hi, I’m [Loki’s Hammer Envy]. Something interesting about me… I tend to get into a little more trouble than it’s worth.”

The implication that you’re a badboy should be plenty to get the after-hours conversational ball rolling with any women in attendance.

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The Perfect Moment Is The Enemy Of The Pickup

I’ve heard every beta male excuse for sexual market inaction under the sun.

“She wasn’t looking at me.”

“She seemed like she didn’t want anyone talking to her.”

“I wasn’t feeling the vibe.”

“Too loud.”

“Too quiet.”

“Too crowded.”

“Too empty.”

“Too public.”

“Too private.”

“I might startle her and freak her out.”

“I can’t get to her without making it too obvious.”

“She probably has a boyfriend.”

“I need another drink first.”

“She’s out of my league.”

“You can’t just WALK UP to girls on the sidewalk!”

“This isn’t the place to hit on girls.”

“People are watching.”

“I’m dressed like a slob/I smell/I feel out of sorts/My hair is a mess today.”

“She’s talking to a bunch of people. I’ll wait till they leave her.”

“I forgot my opener.”

“My ass-less chaps are wrinkled.”

“I forgot to wear my Power Fedora.” (ed: this one’s not a joke, i heard it)

“I’m not feeling it right now.”

“Oh, wait, she saw me looking at her. Now it’ll just be weird if I go up to her.”

“I waited too long.” (ed: well, no shit!)

“I didn’t go out tonight to hit on girls.”

“If it happens, it’ll happen.” (ed: logic trap)

“I’m not in a good mood now.”

“I’ll hit it hard tomorrow.”

“The moment isn’t right.”

***

The perfect moment is the enemy of the pickup. Forget it, Jake, the perfect moment will never come to men who insist on waiting for perfect moments.

Perfect moments are made, by opportunists, aka charismatically bold men. Women happily back-rationalize the moment they meet interesting men as “chemistry”, “we clicked”, and “everything just seemed so perfect”, even if in reality all that happened was he approached and spoke a few words and impudently allowed his hands to take liberties with her erogenous space. So why are you bothering to wait for a perfect moment to hit on women when women will do all the work post hoc constructing that perfect moment in their pretty little heads?

Be an opportunist, not an idealist. For example, here’s a “perfect moment” that occurred when a particularly ruthless buddy of mine exploited what would normally have been an exceedingly embarrassing social situation into a #LoveWins ❤️. The girl who is the subject of this recollection had just tripped while walking on the sidewalk. As is the wont of girls, she got up, brushed herself off while suppressing obvious signs of pain, and attempted to carry on gracefully as if nothing had happened.

(When men trip, they will look backwards at the offending sidewalk crack as if to challenge it to a fight.)

My buddy would have none of that.

HIM: Don’t worry about pretending it didn’t happen, I saw the whole thing.

HER: Oh, yeah, ha, that was crazy.

HIM: Confession. I made a Vine of it. You’ll be on the internet in ten minutes.

HER: That’s not even funny.

HIM: Ok fine, it wasn’t as funny as your fall.

HER: I’m glad you were entertained!

HIM: I was. Does that make me a bad man?

HER: Yes, it does.

HIM: Good. This means you’d be down for drinks this week.

***

Every moment is a perfect moment to pickup girls, if you have heavy balls and skill wielding them.

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The Rubicock

Today CH will introduce you to the theory of the Rubicock. What is the Rubicock? Reader PWN explains it well.

lol, if you want a girl that didn’t sleep around, you must be either her first boyfriend or her second boyfriend. After that, the dam breaks and it might as well be 45 men. There are plenty of girls who hold out, some guy pops their cherry and by the next year they fucked two dozen men.

Ain’t that the truth. So many women, after having drunk enough truth serum, will eventually confess to “wild times” in their lives, when they went cock crazy, usually after a break-up or, as PWN notes, after a long dry spell followed by a drought-busting dicking. Once the chaste girl’s sugar walls are chafed by her third ride on the cock carousel, all her self-control flies out the window. She’s primed for regularly scheduled poundings, especially if she’s left her early 20s behind and still single.

I’ve heard it so many times from women who were considered by their girl friends the “virgins” of the cluck. It goes like this: She has an anonymously urban night when she throws all caution to the wind out of frustration, and the next thing she knows, she’s getting new dick monthly, departing with a quickness from the relative chastity of her pre-Rubicock dating history.

That’s the Rubicock: The cock notch number that, when a girl crosses it, accelerates her descent into debauched sluttery.

It’s like, once the snatch seal is broken, her womb trembles and the four horse cocks of the apocalypse pour molten semen into her damaged psyche.

If you’re interested in long-term loving with a woman that comes with threat of financial loss, it’s a good idea to avoid committing to any woman who has crossed the Rubicock. There’s a good chance you won’t be the last Rubicock line she crosses.

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To Whom Should Men Turn For Advice About Women?

In a Steve Sailer comment thread to a post about Tim Hunt, (the Nobel Prize winning scientist who made the reasonable observation that women scientists are emotionally fragile and can’t take criticism), commenter Ozymandias, responding to some female commenter demonstrating women’s ability to take things personally, wrote,

Unfortunately, what many women consider to be friendship is little more than them cultivating sexual attraction in men they have no interest in, so that they can harvest ego strokes. That’s why any man worth his salt knows the number one rule: never take advice about women from women.

Common sensible and often true, even if women and their beta white knight lackeys don’t like to hear it. The seminal post on when and how men and women can be friends is here. It’s the only thing you need to read on the topic that bears any resemblance to reality as it is for most normal human beings.

Steve, in all his down-home, around-the-way, congenially nerdy Steve-ness, responded to Ozymandias,

Guys, listen to your mother, grandmother, aunts, and sisters about women.

*Godzilla face palm*

Your grandmother… maybe, if she’s at least 90 years old, born well before the post-America funny farm opened its doors. Your mother, aunts, and sisters? No. Women not only give wrong advice to men about how to seduce them, they usually give advice 180 DEGREES removed from what actually works! This is a bug in woman code that men must accept and work around.

The person a man should listen to for advice about women is another man who has both a track record bedding and loving beautiful women and has the self-awareness and mental acuity to know what it is about men like himself that women love and to effectively communicate his knowledge.

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