Archive for the ‘Self-aggrandizement’ Category

This is so sad, but not for the reasons ankle-biters think. A Frenchmanlet (you’ll understand the appellation in a minute), lost his wife, a fetching White woman, to the Muslim murderers in Paris, and now raises his infant son alone. He has what he imagines is a dispiriting message for his wife’s killers.

Dear beta males afraid to hate,

CH has a message for you that I hope will stir as many hearts as your message has lulled to sleep:

There is no virtue in denying your hatred of those that would kill you and yours. Cowardly shirking mincing mewling faggot shitlibs think your high-mindedness and your determination, or stupidity, to “not cast a distrustful eye to your fellow [Muslim] citizens” is the stuff of true heroism.

But it’s not. Hate is the yang to love’s yin. Your refusal to allow a healthy hate to course through you, and enliven your spirit to action, is surrender. It is retreat from a vital emotion that, when welcomed as circumstances require, will motivate a man to protect his family, his friends, his countrymen.

Maybe that’s the cause of your descent into hollow calls for impassive stoicism in the face of grave threat from outsiders.

There are no White countrymen with a sense of shared heritage worth preserving in the West anymore. Diversity™ saw to that. And there are no White families anymore. Diversity™ is seeing to that, as well, as native birth rates plummet in reaction to the loss of public space. We have our friends, but they disappear behind blue screens and shut-in lives enabled by internet delivery services. So what is there to protect, besides one’s moral posturing? If all you have is desolate ego validation from faceless, deracinated defeatists on social media, then it follows naturally to throw the memory of your pretty wife under the bus for the reward of the one thing that matters anymore in your shattering world… your grandiloquent moral rectitude.

Necessity is the mother of rationalization.

Refusing to hate murderous aliens in your midst who laugh at your haughty self-righteousness as they draw the knife across your throat is not noble

not heroic

not admirable

not morally superior.

It is the payment of meekness for comfort. Of weak-minded shibboleth for solace. Of saccharine platitude for avoidance of conflict.

White European Man, this is, if you’ll pardon the pun, your Darkest Hour. If there is a light at the end of this tunnel, it recedes to a pinpoint, flickering and threatening to extinguish… or to explode suddenly at its densest gravitational collapse, like a supernova, flooding your eyes and your conscience with the true nature of the war being waged against you.

La haine est aussi naturel que l’amour.


PA explores an angle that has bothered me, too. What was this Frenchmanlet’s wife doing at a death metal disco? Without him, presumably?

I don’t know anything about that man’s marriage but I can say with confidence that most Western men have never known the love of a woman because most Western women’s capacity for love is strangled early and often. In this case, his wife, an ageing mother, died at a disco. How do you love a woman who does not submit herself to you?

Did that French man ever sit on his couch sipping his favorite poison, while she curled up on the floor and snuggled up to his feet? Do you miss a woman who never showed you, with every gram of her devotion, that you own her fully?

If she did that, how would you mourn a woman like that? Would you go mad with sorrow? Would you coldly plot something that would land you in hell except for God’s mercy in this particular case?

She is gone. I don’t know what his wife was like and how he felt about her before she died. But he has a small child, to whom he can’t explain that mama is never coming back.

A wife and mother in her 30s spending her leisure time head-banging at da club, while beta hubby and infant child wait for her at home, is a powerful symbol of Western White decline. The message has to get out, otherwise White women will head-bang their way into race oblivion, and ultimately fulfill the White race cuckoldry fantasies of the degenerate reptile mafia.

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As the Circlejerk of the Offended widens, there remain fewer and fewer Offenders in the Oortlands of the Damned from whom to extract satisfyingly humiliating apologies. Take, for example, this latest Bowels Love Movement temper tantrum.

An organized protest at Cornell University supporting racial equality has been canceled after a black student group complained about the “lack of people of color in the planning and attendance” of the event, which appears to have been organized by a white student.

Not sure if troll or genuine “white” beta manboob fatso bowing down before his cuckmasters for the crime of insufficiently licking their boots.

This line:

“Thank you for calling me out on my ignorance.”

You may as well append that to America’s other two epitaphs ready to be etched on her gravestone.

We are a family… of friends!
Here lies America. She found closure.
Thank you for calling me out on my ignorance.

The group also stated that “although” the members appreciate “the solidarity and interest of our allies,” the organization would like to address prejudice “in [their] own way.”

I’m curious where all this is heading. When any silly “offense” can be summoned from the ether, and everyone has a trigger point and a safe space blueprint, who will be left to obsequiously assuage the egos of all these thin-skinned, feminized, emotional toddlers? I suppose John Scalzi will try to take up the slack. He wears a dress.

I’ll tell ya something else. This is what happens when you overstuff a bunch of underqualified blacks onto college campuses where they can feel in their bones they don’t measure up. The spite, resentment, and bile bubble over, and with the help of status whoring manlet leftoids and Hivemind Narrative police, explodes in some of the most childish, nonsensical tantrums you’ll ever see putative adults indulge.

No doubt it’s fun for the wholesome White family to watch shitlib grotesqueries cannibalize each other, but if you think this in-fighting will reduce their choke-hold on the culture, don’t bet on it.

Executive summary: Diversity + Proximity = War.

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Üntermenschlet Michael Cera once starred in a movie called Youth in Revolt. It wasn’t half-bad by the standards of his usual sackless oeuvre, but the best thing about the movie — a quasi-parody of indie flics disguised as a romcom — was its exploration of the Game concept of Identity Creation. In this way, the movie is actually a hidden gem of masculine awareness. Cera’s character is a hapless beta male with oneitis who creates an alter ego of himself as a suave, smooth-talking, slightly douchey badboy. The girl, naturally, falls for the new and improved Michael Shitlord.

Identity Creation is a big deal among the Game intelligentsia. That’s because it works. Crafting a recognizable, even mythological, persona and skillfully conveying it to women will provide a big passive boost to your charisma. All women — not just slutty bar skanks — love a dollop of drama and pretension, and are intrigued by men who embody sexy archetypes. Those men stand out from the mediocre masses of beta male boobs, and this is crucial in a saturated dating market that is nearing an effective sex ratio which is extremely favorable to prime nubility girls.

Women imagine that men possessing powerful identities live in a more exciting world than the plebes — a secret society, to borrow a PUA term — and as is the wont of women they desire badly what they think is being denied them. They want into that mysterious man’s world.

An identity is part of both inner and outer Game. A strong identity allows you to know yourself and thus act with purpose; your frame will be solid with this self-aware knowledge. As an outer game strategy, your identity — aka your core personality — is communicated via style, behavior, attitude, and body language. The better you can convey your identity, the more women will autonomically moisten in your presence.

The Cadfather of Game, Mystery von Mystery, was a two-bit magician who used that seedling of a self-definition to grow a much stronger and more seductive identity which he whimsically deployed in da clubs to the delight of boner fried hotties. Here’s Mystery on the importance of a well-honed method to conveying your identity,

I will attempt to resolve his misunderstanding between STYLE and METHOD as well as reveal some insights on how to specifically customize material to convey a unique identity (for both you and my friend Thundercat). Once you customize your material to fit your chosen “strong identity” will you no doubt make others who watch you work wrongfully assume it is your particular identity that gets you the girls and not the method that powers the conveying of it.

As those who have taken a Mystery Method seminar know, MM consists of three main areas:

PART 1. A format (or game plan) which has 3 stages, each with 3 phases.
PART 2. Mental tools to get you from phase to phase (isolation tactics, kiss tactics, extraction tactics, etc).
PART 3. Scripts and personality conveying material (content) to fill in each of the 9 phases.

While parts 1 and 2 (the MM format and it’s tactics) don’t change from person to person, part 3 (personality conveying material) does. We each possess a unique identity. You are not me. I am a magician. My wing Style is a writer. Tyler D. is a public speaker. Does this mean you have to be a magician, a writer, or a public speaker in order to attract women? Of course not! But what you DO need is what Style, Tyler D. and I share in common: we each possess a strong identity.


I’m sure you’ve found yourself in a set and have reached the point where your target says, “What do you do?” You either give her your honest but lame answer like, “I’m a student”, or “I’m a system’s administrator”, or worse, you try to circumvent the question entirely with “I’m an ass model.”

The problem is you don’t have an attractive identity, or if you do, it’s not a strong one. Some guys will experiment with “I’m a rockstar”, or “I’m a promoter”, or “I’m a public speaker”, but your target will either feel you are lying (in the same way we believe an “actress” is likely a “waitress”), or if they DO believe your evidence, they become intimidated when you get weighed down by the stereotype they have of you.

If instead of answering her question “What do you do” with “I’m [x]” you can ground your present identity to her reality and harness the opportunity to convey a much richer personality. Here’s how you do it.

Instead say:

1. “Well when I was little I wanted to be a [x].”
2. “When I was a teenager [x] happened.” Tell stories about how you got from 1 to 3.
3. “Now I’m [x]. Can you believe it?”


So this is what you must now do to improve your game:

1. Figure out who YOU are by looking at what you DO repeatedly – something you can say in a word or two. (ex: magician, writer, toy inventor, CEO, hacker, rock climber, rapper, public speaker, traveler)

2. Come up with several stories that convey how you got from being a normal kid to doing what you repeatedly do.

3. Practice telling these stories to others to make the stories enthusiastic and natural.

OK, you now know grounding — i.e., delivery style — and self-tailored stories are important to conveying your identity and triggering or amplifying female attraction.

There are two pathways to Identity Creation:

  1. Reframing your already existing identity as one that is sexier than an objective analysis would indicate.
  2. Choosing a fresh identity that is attractive to women and complements, rather than contradicts, the general contours of your personality and worldview.

Crafting a completely novel identity that is so unlike yourself no one would recognize you can be done, but it’s difficult, particularly at the beginning before you’ve built up the mental muscles that will internalize your new identity and enable you to express it congruently. The more practical goal is to work within the confines of your resting personality state, knowing that at the margins your personality is sufficiently flexible. And the intensity and zero sum nature of the sexual market means that a small change at the margins can mean a big change in the quantity and quality of your notches.

First, take heed that some identities are more equal than others. Proudly assuming the look and lifestyle of a basement porn consumer isn’t a golden ticket to gushing tingles. Most people instinctively know which identities are timelessly sexy to women, but as a reminder here’s a short list of some of the most commonly perceived sexy male archetypes:

  • adventurer
  • corporate titan
  • brooding artist
  • street tough
  • Machiavellist
  • world traveler
  • rock star
  • jock
  • ladies’ man
  • tormented writer
  • photographer
  • rugged outdoorsman
  • social linchpin (bartender/promoter/event planner)
  • cult leader
  • spy/shadowy figure with a murky past
  • ex-con
  • war vet (“i’ve seen things…”)
  • Jeb Bush….. HAHAHAHAHA

Unfortunately, there’s a new persona/identity taking the culture by storm.

  • SJW

No one will ever mistake the typical SJW for a sexy male (or female) archetype. So why does it now flourish? The answer is simple once you recognize that SJWism is a siren song for humanity’s dregs. The ugliest, fattest, weirdest, gooniest LSMV losers adopt the SJW identity to raise their own status and knock down the status of their betters. These degenerate freaks on their own would go to the grave incel, but with a Tumblrrea and a passion for poopytalk the Crouching Manlet Hidden Dildo sees in the SJW identity a chance — the slimmest possible (but still better than zero) — to get a drunken pity fuck from a bluehair fatty before his dick stops working from cheeto-clogged arteries.

This is how dysfunctional the American sexual market has become: the SJW identity is a legitimate recourse to escape lifelong involuntary celibacy.

Let’s pull one random sexy identity from the above list and I’ll run through the process of building upon and eventually conveying this identity to intrigued women:


You can completely fabricate a persona as a photographer, but it will be much easier to pull off if you actually have some experience at photography, or have some genuine interest in the subject.

Now, you’re not going to walk around with a honking DLSR everywhere you go. But you will deck out your bang pad with the accoutrements of the accomplished photographer. The sexier, the better. Keep a personal photo album on the coffee table. Have a few B&W photos of naked exes on the wall. Have a dedicated studio room, where you take your unsuspecting prey dates and slyly suggest they “have the right skin tone for indoor shots”.

When you go out, have stories ready for girls.

“Well when I was little I wanted to be a painter.”
“When I was a teenager I was introduced to the modeling world by a cousin who worked with models. I went on a day trip to see what it was like. I had a point and shoot with me and just started taking snapshots of girls getting ready for shows. They loved it, and I discovered I had a better eye than a painter’s hand.”
“Now I do photo shoots for aspiring actresses. It’s great to be able to have a passion and make money from it!”

Seal the deal by taking your dates to local venues where you have agreements with the managers to hang your photos on the venue walls. Nonchalantly at some point during the date gesture to a photo hanging on the wall and tell her that’s one of yours.

Fashion-wise, cop the stereotypical garb of artsy photographers. All black outfits, slim fitting pullovers, sneakers for that high-low style contrast, a lethally steady gaze.

Related: Persona contests are the new medium for status whoring. As the niches for status striving exploitation have filled up, Americans have moved from materialist status competition (McMansions) through lifestyle status competition (home brewing) and now to persona status competition (“black lives matter”). Charisma has long been a defining feature of all three Prime Identities, but it is predominant in the persona, so it’s not a coincidence that Game has risen in esteem with the rise of the cult of the persona.

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We share a hearty chuckle over the avoidable miseries of friendzoned beta males, but there are dead serious implications should the practice ever fall out of favor or get deprived of its seemingly endless source stream of dupes, chodes, and tools.

The fewer beta orbiters willing or available to provide sexless emotional and financial support to dual-mate strategizing (“alpha fux, beta bux”) girls, the more pressure is applied to the alpha male lovers of those girls to assume the “beta bux” relationship responsibilities abjured by the former friendzoned betas.

In theory, this gutting of the friendzone industrial complex should result in three dating market adjustments:

– Girls choosing less conspicuously caddish jerks as lovers. Men who can’t or won’t offer any relationship dependability will have a harder time “locking in” girlfriends for the long haul.

– Girls becoming less disposed to take beta male attention for granted. This will mean that when betas do show romantic interest, they won’t immediately get stuffed into the LJBF hugbox.

– Girls experiencing more difficulty advertising-by-beta orbiter proxy their “no muss no fuss” sexual accessibility to roving alphas. As shartiste explains,

I’m growing more fond of my theory that girls use friend-zoned guys as signals to draw in low-investment alphas. Call it the Conspicuous Cuck Strategy. Look at her, framing him as a prop while she eye-fucks the camera and displays cleavage for any alpha onlooker. Come and get it, I know you’ll fuck and run but the cucks all ready!

I no longer hookup with attached girls, but I did a few times in less discriminating days. The girls ALWAYS talked about their bf/husband in the most beta terms possible, even though reality was probably a bit more shade of grey. They’d talk him down so hard and pitifully, not for any illusion that she’d dump him or I’d whisk her away, but it seemed more to signal just how bad she needed an alpha fuck, and simultaneously assure there’d be no reprisal. This is “flirting” to them. Its kinda disgusting, honestly.

It takes two to tango, and the female exploiting the asexual provisioning of the cuck is just as complicit as the cuck accepting his role and enabling the girl’s dual mate strategy. In this analysis, the girl is more malevolent, but the cuck is more contemptible.

Nevertheless, I don’t think girls are using beta orbiters as dinner bells for fly by night alphas. Not consciously, at least. It’s more reasonable to interpret a woman’s motivation to establish and sustain friendzoned eunuchs as exactly what it is: a status display to other women, and a practical consideration to “cover all her bases”. One can easily imagine a reproductive advantage in the EEA to women who gathered the resources of both sexual and asexual admirers.

Ideally, women want the cad and the dad in the same über alpha male; and women with very high SMV can pull off this coup. But for the majority of women who can’t, acquiring an entourage of harmless castrati isn’t without its twisted appeal. Think about how much the friendzoned beta orbiter offers women:

extreme listening skills.
endless ego-boosting flattery (without demanding reciprocation).
and, perhaps most crucially, a white knight perimeter defense against hopeful betas (and conversely a character-testing gauntlet for aggressive alphas).

So in theory reducing the frequency of friendzoning in the dating market should redound to the benefit of beta males and the detriment of alpha males.

But theory often gets abused trying to make sense of female sexuality. In practice, as the supply of beta male emotional tampons shrinks, what I think likelier to happen is that the alpha cads remain objects of female desire, but girls will have to find alternate outlets to absorb their bitching and moaning about their jerky boyfriends, which could mean girl friends and family. Hearteningly, or maddeningly depending on your degree of cynicism, it could also mean girls “amp up” their sexual coquettishness around beta males to secure the same amount of harmless male attention they used to get for less effort (and for less risk of misconstrual).

On balance, it’s a good thing to reduce the incidence of friendzoning, even if it means more lesser betas wind up alone with their dignity, instead of alone with a cute girl tormenting them with her unattainable nearness. If betas are unwilling to prostrate themselves to self-aggrandizing girls who will never put out for them, there might follow a morale boost and an impetus to learn and acquire the whole panoply of masculine traits that coaxes from girls the kind of hugs that really matter: post-orgasmic leg hugs.

And, not to put too fine a point on it, girls deprived of pushover eunuchs might start to view those betas in a more sex-positive light.

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Heather Mac Donald was recently a guest on NPR to discuss (as the one token representative of the right to balance the four leftists) the myth of the black lives matter narrative. Her hatefacts were unassailable, and to her credit she did not shy from dropping the most explosive truth bombs on the NPRatchiks (you could practically hear them sucking in breath between their teeth). But, her speaking and debating style was halting, labored, and lacking inflection, leaving the listener with the obviously misleading perception that she lacked the smarts or gravitas to know what she was talking about.

This is something I’ve noticed with more than a few public Realtalkers; they express themselves much more cleanly and forcefully in writing than at roundtables full of sneering leftoids. If the Dissident Party is to get off the ground, it needs better impromptu public speakers — Trump is a great example — who can parry leftoids on their turf. Machiavellianism comes more naturally to leftoids, so taking them on will demand a certain facility with the crimson arts.

I think what holds back Dissident mastery of the public sphere is self-doubt. There still lingers a hesitation to embrace the ugly truth with both arms, hugging it till it becomes one with the soul. When the last shadow of doubt is expelled, the fire within can glow again, and only then will NPR echo chambers quake and crumble under the persuasive might of righteous alt-right rebellion.

Executive summary: Game matters, most of all when the truth needs selling to a catatonic public.



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There are those “by the book” types who argue that there’s no such thing as pathological altruism; that there’s only evolved altruistic impulses more or less suited to the current environment. In other words, what was once a useful trait can become a handicap in another age and another environment.

I disagree. If we accept that there are lots of human traits which are expressed along a spectrum of intensity in people, then there can be White people whose evolved altruistic impulse, notably toward outgroups, situates them at the far tails of the altruism bell curve, where pathologies reign supreme. This is no different than any psychological pathology that is an extreme manifestation of an otherwise normal and healthy human behavior.

Case in point: Anna Stubblefield, the shitlib whackjob college ethics professor who fell in love with a literal diaper-wearing black retard and insisted she could divine deep meaning from his grunts, eye twitches, and “chirps”.

‘‘I was raised to believe that I have the responsibility of tikkun olam, repairing the world,’’ Anna wrote in her 2005 book ‘‘Ethics Along the Color Line.’’

In ANY environment, at ANY time, this would be an example of the altruistic impulse turned pathological. It’s hard to envision an environment where this kind of insanity redounds to the person’s survival and reproductive benefit.

ps should i have put White in quotes in the post title? nah, too easy. and too limiting.

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Paging Kevin MacDonald…

Bryan Caplan’s Id made a guest appearance on his anti-Gentilism hateblog, confessing in starkly monochromatic detail exactly how much Bryan Caplan’s Ego HATES HATES HATES the idea of living in a nation with a majority White Gentile population.

There are a lot of open borders nutjobs currently in circulation, but Bryan Caplan’s Id is the most deranged of them all. The Sperg Total is so far removed from reality I wonder if his bubble is slowly asphyxiating him and destroying brain cells.

His pro-nation-destruction “””argument”””, if in a fit of magnanimity one could call it that, rests on the (false) (utterly inane) premise that when one group gets too numerically large and powerful, they will necessarily do scary things, the thought of which overloads Caplan’s RAM, and the way to prevent this is to make sure everyone is a minority in their own country, so that power is divided commensurately among the disparate tribes and the risk of its misuse thereby reduced. This will, according to Caplan’s readout, produce a utopia on earth where hundreds of tribes competing for status and power are replaced by one glorious tribe (his own, natch) calling the shots and an indentured commune of powerless peons content with a political and social arrangement that negates their tradition and culture and cuts them off from having any decision over the constitution of the nation they will bequeath their posterity.

Essentially, Bryan Caplan is claiming — against all the real world evidence and the historical record — that Diversity + Proximity = Peace. He is arguing for a state of nature that doesn’t exist, and never has existed. When disparate tribes accumulate in sufficient number under one governing authority, the eventual result is a dysfunctional government and, over time, the gradual (re)separation of those tribes into self-governing entities. That’s the best-case scenario. Worst case: rivers of blood.

Anyone who’s lived a day in his life outside a 1%er bubble knows this is true. But for the (ironically) Endogamously Benighted Bubbleborg the only data their algorithms can compute must be peer-reviewed and published in esteemed ¡SCIENCE! journals, so for spergitarians like Caplan, CH presents a partial list of studies finding that:








But, really, what is the point anymore trying to reason with the Caplan ilk as if they were anything but malevolent traitors with no intention of meeting their fellow citizens in good faith? The Open Borders Sperg Horde, like the Feminist Cunts, the Race Creationists, and the Pathological Altruists, have clearly shown themselves impervious to facts on the ground and to the expressed desires of the majority of Americans.

They’re immune to logic.
To reason.
To truth.
To beauty.
To facts.
To common sense.
To human decency.
To anything that vibrates the valence of their elemental spergomized purity.

They are human defectives with a sadist’s acumen for self-justification.

What appeals will reach the sadodefectives who are in positions of influence to spread their disease to the society that swaddles them? Mutter Merkel might be able to offer a suggestion.

Bryan Caplan is SMRT. So SMRT that he can’t perceive how ridiculously transparent his cheerleading for open borders and White majority submersion by tsunamis of third world refuse is a manifestation of his psychological projection. His own, numerically outnumbered but disproportionately powerful and influential, tribe puts the lie to his White Submersion Theory of Eternal Peace. He psychologically projects the rise of a Mormon tyranny should their numbers grow, when right now his tiny tribe has a near-tyrannical lock on controlling the levers of the media, entertainment, academic, political (have you seen the top ten political donor list?) and financial institutions.

As SMRT as he is, Bubbleboy Caplan apparently lacks the requisite IQ horsepower to extrapolate that a Babel of Bubbles under one dusty proposition parchment rapidly congealing into irrelevance through the mechanism of race-based antipathy will, in due time, mitotically divide into the border-bounded, separate nations he so irrationally loathes.

A thousand Bubbles will become a thousand Nations, Caplan, and then you’ll just have to start your Borderless Tikkun Olam Crusade all over again. You see, when you force a self-identifying people into powerlessness in their own homeland by flooding their commons with genetically antagonistic foreigners, they tend not to take it so well.


Bryan “Spergatron” Caplan wants to turn America into the Island of Misfit Goys, an icy wasteland for broken, demoralized outcasts with no home to call their own.

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