Archive for the ‘The Big City Life’ Category

There’s this bar/nightclub that has two floors, the second floor extending about 2/3rds of the way out from the back of the venue, so that those on the first floor near the front of the club can look up and see people on the second floor. (it’s great for boning up (heh) on your upskirting skills.) An iron railing about waist high protects dancers and drunkards from falling over the edge into the crowd below, though I can’t fathom how there haven’t been topplings that I know of, given the nature of drunkards to fall over just about anything that isn’t a brick wall.

The club gradually morphed from a Chad-White bro-scene to a Dindu savannah, but it never completely de-gentrified (bixnoodified?). A given Saturday night could be 50/50 White/black. Many of the blacks were hardcore ghettolanders bused in from duskier parts of town, so the 50/50 ratio felt more like 10/90 if you were a wypipo. One street creature carries the menace of one thousand of Shaun King’s threatening tweets.

The night would quickly humidify with the influx of MUH DIKKING and jungle musk, and White Privilege at that time never felt more remote. But it was still fun to stay despite the risk of a massive house riot because of what would eventually and inevitably transpire on that exposed second floor. The nubian ladies would line up along the edge, two-handedly grab the railing, bend over and jut their steatopygian buttocks out as far as possible, rhythmically swaying and bouncing and jiggling their leopard skin tights-clad, dimpled posteriors with a ferocity that would evoke a post-monsoon reproductive dash for ass among Africa’s red-butted fauna.

Then the real show began. The brothers in their knee-high sweatpants would lope into the buoyant backsides of these Nail Rail sisters, making a big show of judging the asses for quality — some nodding their heads and licking their lips in vigorous approval, other stroking their chins in phony discernment — before channeling Al Frankenstien on Viagra and pressing their tighty-whitey-strained boners into the gluteal abyss of not one, but two, three, or ten event horizon booty cracks.

The Bump n Grind commenced, howls and hoots and screeches that startled birds and sent them flying out of the canopy would echo off the walls of the club. Spilled drinks, sweat, spit, and possibly semen would rain down on the first floor denizens who were staring upward mouths agape in unbelieving laughter. After a short while, the tribal “music” having sufficiently worked the participants into a copulatory frenzy, the fertility dance would move to stage three. Already ten to fifteen sassy girls were displaying along the Nailing Railing, and the woefully underprivileged and eternally victimized gentlemen of color would begin the musical chair part of the mating ritual, swapping girls between each other, slapping asses with an air of perfunctory ownership as they entered and exited ass cubbies.

Usually the buckiest of the daggering brothers would hog (heh) the preponderance of booty, overstaying his time with each ass, choosing the finest ass (as he saw it) from among a murderer’s row of gargantuan globularity, and grabbing two asses at once, one glued to his pelvic region, the other tickled into a spastic froth by his outstretched hand. It was at this time that the scent of sudden mayhem was strongest, and the possibility of a violent resolution bristled through capillaries and engulfed the room, electrifying the senses.

This is when the smarter Whites leave, (the smartest Whites never arrive), but for one time the crowd remained in full as a climactic scene unfolded that stunned the gallery before a great laughter ensued. At the mating dance’s peak excitation, a tall scrawny nerdy White man with “I’m a shitlib Virtue Signaler” practically tattooed on his fivehead stepped confidently into the tush pit, smiling goofily, full of wonder and joy at his chance to bond with the natives, and bounced heavily at the knee near an open black behind, waiting for a cue from one of his hued heroes to enter the Dark Incontinent without a safari guide. The Flummoxed Flava took one long incredulous look at this Supreme Dork, promptly cackled in unison, slapped his back, and pushed him into the booty dead center at the rail.

Below, the crowd erupted in cheers. Gangly and spindly, our brave sinfiltrator jerked his body like a broken marionette to the smooth gyrations of his amour, nearly disappearing into the sea of butt blubber. Slipping on the wet floor, he almost dove headfirst over her back and the railing, but steadied himself by planting his paw in the thiccness of her shoulder padding, and it was at this moment that his other hand swiped right….toward her giant tit mashed into the iron bar. He leered at the crowd as he gave it a lusty squeeze, at which the girl turned to look back at him, stood up, shook her head in that OH NO YOU DINT way, and slapped his face. He rocked backwards from the force of it, and the gathered brothers released gales of knee-slapping, tongue-wagging laughter as they resumed their spots in the tar pits.

There is no moral to this story except don’t go looking for love in the bush.

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Diversity™ heaps limitless miseries upon the host nation. You don’t need social science studies to tell you that, (you can just go to a diverse part of town and experience the joylessness, tension, annoyances, stress, and general aesthetic dreariness for yourself), but when the ¡SCIENCE! is available it sure is fun to rub it in libfruit faces.

Happiness in modern society: Why intelligence and ethnic composition matter


Recent developments in evolutionary psychology suggest that living among others of the same ethnicity might make individuals happier and further that such an effect of the ethnic composition on life satisfaction may be stronger among less intelligent individuals. Data from the National Longitudinal Study of Adolescent Health showed that White Americans had significantly greater life satisfaction than all other ethnic groups in the US and this was largely due to the fact that they were the majority ethnic group; minority Americans who lived in counties where they were the numerical majority had just as much life satisfaction as White Americans did. Further, the association between ethnic composition and life satisfaction was significantly stronger among less intelligent individuals. The results suggest two important factors underlying life satisfaction and highlight the utility of integrating happiness research and evolutionary psychology.

LIE: Diversity™ is our strength.
TRUTH: Diversity™ is our sadness.

Happiness (for White people) is a paler shade of settlement.

Multiethnic societies make everyone unhappier, but the clash of tribes hits the downscale hardest, who lack the excess cognitive chops to rationalize their unhappiness as the sweet price to pay for moral posturing and crappy ethnic food that gives you the shits for weeks.

Modern multitribalism may not pose the same threat to the survival and reproduction of individuals as it would have in the ancestral environment when encirclement by another tribe usually meant you were about to be killed or raped, but that doesn’t mean modern multiracial stews like the US don’t threaten the Darwinian fitness of individuals dealing with the consequences of the diversity. Bloody tribal warfare and pillaging still exist, but in a domesticated form; instinctive tribal nepotism, out-group aggression, and low trust are proxies for open war, and these interactional conditions pose incremental risks to the social and economic statuses, as well as the psychological health, of members within the multitribal society. One example would be, for instance, the nepotistic domination of the Ivies by one tribe and its affirmative actioned pawns which has pushed out the historical representation of the heritage tribe.

Or, Diversity + Proximity = War (by any means).


In related ¡SCIENCE! news, shitlibs are just as prone to science denialism as are cuckservatives.

Liberals and Conservatives Are Similarly Motivated to Deny Attitude-Inconsistent Science

We tested whether conservatives and liberals are similarly or differentially likely to deny scientific claims that conflict with their preferred conclusions. Participants were randomly assigned to read about a study with correct results that were either consistent or inconsistent with their attitude about one of several issues (e.g., carbon emissions). Participants were asked to interpret numerical results and decide what the study concluded. After being informed of the correct interpretation, participants rated how much they agreed with, found knowledgeable, and trusted the researchers’ correct interpretation. Both liberals and conservatives engaged in motivated interpretation of study results and denied the correct interpretation of those results when that interpretation conflicted with their attitudes. Our study suggests that the same motivational processes underlie differences in the political priorities of those on the left and the right.

I would love to know which test studies the researchers used to determine how much libs and cons engaged in motivated interpretation, besides the one mentioned in the abstract (“carbon emissions”). I’d bet that libs more intensely deny or spin the science of race and sex differences than cons deny the science of global warming. My observation is that cons aren’t as egotistically and emotionally invested in denying global warming as libs are in denying innate sex-based psychological differences and racial disparities in average IQ.


A commenter reminded me of a relevant 2014 CH post about a study of spiders and diversity, which found that tribal homogeneity, contra conventional shitlib wisdom, increases individual diversity.

Summarizing, a lack of inter-group diversity…actually increases individual diversity, through the mechanism of amplifying preexisting personality differences among same-group members. In contrast, a lot of inter-group diversity (say, moving to a SWPL hipster enclave in a minority white city soaked in vibrancy that makes daily living an adventure in survival) produces a uniformity of thought and, CH will note, uniformity of aesthetic within groups, which is why we see SWPL hoods in nearly every major American city converging on the same farm-to-table Obama-loving liberal hypocrite norm.

Paradoxically, group cohesiveness creates more individual diversity, while inter-group diversity creates more intra-group uniformity. Diversity + proximity = conformity.

In other words, the diversity that really matters — diversity of thought and personality — flourishes in less racially diverse environs.

Diversity is our within-group sameness.


PS I’ve added the study findings discussed in this post to the Diversity + Proximity = War reference list at the top of the front page of this blog.

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Meet Francis Dominicus. He’s the memelord responsible for creating instantly iconic and stirring visual memes of Trump.

The Supertrump* smirk on that last one slays me.

*goodbye shitlibs it’s been nice
hope you find your peace of mind
tried to warn you of our memes
hope your tears will salt your dreams…

Joining Dominicus in the pantheon of maul-right street artists (a small but effective cadre of creatives who wield the technicolor shiv better than any leftoid art school phag does) is Sabo. We need more of these kinds of men to take it to the shitlibs’ turf. The triggering should go global, and spare no anti-White virtue sniveler. We attack now with words and art, because we know the horrors that follow when the words and art fail to disarm the enemy. If you’re not keen on all-out war, you make your words and art count. In this sense, men like Sabo and Dominicus are the real humanitarians to which the Leftoid Excrescence can only pretend.

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Lichtof, on attending a mimosa brunch in a major shitlibopolis:

One of my many red pill moments was living in a DC suburb and having to go to a mimosa brunch thing that bitches love.
My girl wanted to show me off.
6 other couples at the table all engaged or married and every one of the ‘men’ could have passed as gay. They even dressed gay..pink clothing…shorts..and all with high voices.
Me being hungover I thought I’d stumbled on a joke or something.
I acted a jerk and had two of the bitches eating out of my hand and none of the other ‘men’ knew what was going on.

Aside…I turned down a fuck from a white Colombian last year. A farmer’s daughter ..attractive, fit and I’d say loved a good fuck but she had big shoulders and just a little too much ‘t’.

Ladies, we men of impeccable taste and evolved slaydar can spot the slightest deviation from normal T levels in women…the shoulders that are a 1/4 inch too wide in relation to hip width, the gorilla feet, the man hands, the dusky tufts of lip hair, the pubic thatch that migrates across the pelvis-thigh crease (the nappy valley), the narrow hips, the wider waist (even if toned and taut), the flattened swayback, and of course the mark of the Lawyercunt Beast, the manjaw.

To the larger point, cities and in particular shitlibopolis strongholds that have a new pet grooming store open every week, become beacons for effete males where they resettle in large numbers and their scent of overactive aromatase suffuses the air. This scent is a turn-off to women, including the effete male’s polar opposite the high T careerist shrike. But libchicks love these harmless puffboys as asexual company whose only purpose appears to be inflating the egos of crass unfeminine bitterbitch pussyhatters.

Oh sure, occasionally a puffboy will pair off with a pussyhatter (usually after the pussyhatter has run a marathon through MAGA cad cock and needs the shitlib social acceptability imprimatur of a compliant beta borefriend), but you can tell neither of their hearts are into it; they’re hooking up for appearances rather than passion.

Worse, the coastal cities produce endemic toxins via food and culture channels that saps its male inhabitants of their T. So a double T whammy sets up….nancyboys gravitate to the cities, and their nancy-ness is amplified to an acute degree by the urban lifestyle. Only the strongest and most willful of MAGAmen can resist urban gayification. You have to be extremely confident in your masculinity to spend a lot of time in the cities plundering the sexually unfulfilled shitlib chicks downing mimosas by the vat to help them forget they’re on the slow track to a loveless marriage with uptalking vegetable lasagnas without worrying that you’ll become one of them.

The good news for men who don’t measure up to a Paul Bunyon standard is that it doesn’t take much inborn masculinity to shine like a diamond dick in a shitlibopolis. A recognizable bicep, a neck thicker than a pencil, a voice that doesn’t mimic little girls at play, and a cheeky ZFG attitude that isn’t concerned with constantly assuaging girls’ egos and reaffirming their insipid politics is enough to storm a pink-hued brunch like a Viking Berserker and insinuate yourself into the sexual fantasies of an entire HR department’s worth of alpha-starved feminist Trump haters.

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You don’t have to read too deeply between the lines to know what Lauren Duca’s complaint is really saying about her:

This is the end game for veteran cock carouselers: an inability to escape the urban skank-a-rama, frequent awkward run-ins with current and former bang bros, and a gnawing sense of impending sexual invisibility with each deep cut run-in reminding her of the tick tock of the SMV clock.

Duca, childless manjawed Teen Vogue typist with illustrious works to her name such as…*wind whistles*…, finally married her boyfriend in 2016, (I’m sure he’s a soyboy who’s totally cool with his wife admitting in a public forum that he nabbed a paragon of chaste femininity who can’t stop bumping into pump and dumps who still loiter in her memory).

The anonymous, atomized urban pig pit that caters to hedonistas* like Duca offers a surfeit of sexual possibility, with the promise of no muss no fuss extraction should things head south. Break-ups can be buried in the heap of writhing humanity that scrapes along city sidewalks and walk-ups, or at least that’s what the hedonista tells herself. But should she acquire a sufficient number of round-the-way rides, even the masses and blurred mimosa-bleached neurons won’t shield her from the dreaded bump-in. And that same writhing mammal mass has a way of encouraging women to repeat rides on the cock carousel, a result not just of expanded options but of a false bravado and defiance of sexual market laws that city life uploads to the hivegine.

My advice to low disgust threshold, high T men who want to play the field before settling down, and don’t like the idea of committing the rest of their lives to a road-worn cock holster: Go to the big blue cities, have your way with the women (they’ll be ready), then escape and find your investment-worthy damsel in suburbia, a small town, or rural God’s country. You’re not guaranteed a virgin bride anywhere in America, but you can find more low notch count women outside the shitlibopolises who will, by dint of their relative lack of sexperience, bend the knee(s) to your magnanimous stewardship and genuine love. For only the low N woman with a conspicuous undercurrent of feminine vulnerability can wrest true, primal, “I’d kill for this woman” love from a man.

*As a skilled operator of the urban milieu, I have lain with many hedonistas, so I know how their gears turn and when their glib confessionals hide charred morsels of real pain and regret.


Days of Broken Arrows adds,

Beat me to the punch with this comment. Just the fact that she’s drumming up drama in public with it is a shiv to her husband.

One of the worst aspects of modern American women is their propensity to shame their men publicly. “South Park” riffed on this by having a female character who only ever wore an “I’m With Stupid —>” t-shirt.

Her Tweet is the high-tech version of “I’m With Stupid —>” or a variation on the women who complain about their “honey-do” list when other couples are around. The best women keep it zipped in public and will wait to give it to you when the door’s shut. Pun intended.

Haha, good stuff. Globalist Girls and “I’m With Stupid–>” Sluts as far as the eye can see, and people wonder why men aren’t manning up like they used to. Ladies, you’ve gotta woman up before men will man up.

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Commenter Pusifer (most excellent handle) wonders how a man with a lavish taste for wanton love sheds his accumulated bedroom company.

CH: “One six month stretch I had tore my way through fifteen women”

How do you get rid of them after?!

Some drifted away, some left purposefully, some cried on my porch, some stormed off angrily. Some texted forlornly, but got no reply at all.

A lesson for the ladies: if a man’s heart isn’t ready to merge completely with another, it will be a high hill to climb to convince him otherwise.

This illustrates two big advantages of prowling a densely populated sexual market.

  1. Submersion into the Bangborg. It’s harder to bump into former lovers from among a sea of worker drones and have that awkward “wow so what have you been up to since we last….saw each other?” convo.
  2. If on the off chance you do bump into a past or present plate, there’s an unspoken assumption between atomized hedonists that this is just the way things are in this place we mutually inhabit but separately share. You may fuck me one night, and forget me the next, and I may do likewise, and it would be very gauche of either of us to lament this lay of the land like some sentimental fool.

This also illustrates the one big disadvantage of dating in the bangopolises: if you’re looking for love you can count on, get ready for an adventure that likely won’t end the way you want.

So to answer Pusifer’s question more pithily: the women never left, they just faded to gray.

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An Orwellian story coming out of the Left Coast illustrates just how deranged and malevolent San Fran shitlibs have become trying to maintain their allegiance to the Equalism Narrative in the face of meaty intrusions by race reality.

BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit) Withholding Surveillance Videos of Crime to Avoid ‘Stereotypes’

In the last three months, there have been at least three robberies on BART involving groups of teenagers.

“I think people are genuinely concerned — they are fearful about the stories that have come out about the recent attacks, the assaults, the thefts,” said Debora Allen, who is a member of the BART Board of Directors. […]

So far, BART has refused to turn over surveillance video for any of these incidents.

Allen told us the agency issued an explanation for why it is being tight-lipped about the thefts.

“To release these videos would create a high level of racially insensitive commentary toward the district,” she was told. “And in addition it would create a racial bias in the riders against minorities on the trains.”

According to a memo distributed to BART Directors, the agency won’t do a press release on the June 30 theft because it was a “petty crime” that would make BART look “crime ridden.” Furthermore, it would “unfairly affect and characterize riders of color, leading to sweeping generalizations in media reports.”

The memo was from BART Assistant General Manager Kerry Hamill.

Physiognomy alert (aging cat lady schoolmarm edition):

Allen emailed Hamill, “I don’t understand what role the color of one’s skin plays in this issue [of whether to divulge information]. Can you explain?” Hamill responded, “If we were to regularly feed the news media video of crimes on our system that involve minority suspects, particularly when they are minors, we would certainly face questions as to why we were sensationalizing relatively minor crimes and perpetuating false stereotypes in the process.” And added her opinion of the media: “My view is that the media’s real interest in the videos of youth phone snatching incidents isn’t the desire for transparency but rather the pursuit of ratings. [ed: ten bucks says she isn’t offended by the gaystream media indulging clickbait trump-russia fake news] They know that video of these events will drive clicks to their websites and viewers to their programs because people are motivated by fear.”

What a load of Shrewspeak. That last line reveals the rotten core of the shitlib null-soul: pure unadulterated psychological projection. “people are motivated by fear”. Well OF COURSE people are motivated by fear when there’s a REAL FUCKING THREAT TO THEIR SAFETY AND SECURITY. Fear is what shitlibs feel when their world view is crashing down before their eyes, like it is now.

[Allen] says all this raises questions, “What is the priority of BART? Is the safety of the passenger — of all passengers — is that a lesser priority than the race bias issue?”

I’ll answer for the priestess BART class: Yes. Your personal safety is less important than concealing and suppressing the truth about brown and black crime. Now you know the value that our overcunts place on your individual White life. You are nothing but collateral damage in the Globohomo War Against BadWhites Noticing Things.

Read the actual memo from Kerry Hamill, catlady esq. It is bone-chilling in its malignant, twisted shitlibbery. The stuff of Big Sister nightmares. Some excerpts:

Furthermore, disproportionate elevation of crimes on transit interfaces with local media in such a way to unfairly affect and characterize riders of color, leading to sweeping generalizations in media reports and a high level of racially insensitive commentary directed toward the District through our social media channels, email, and call centers. The BART Police Department has a hard copy of all the data provided to CrimeMapping.com. It is available to the public at its Lake Merritt Station headquarters. Many police agencies, according to the Police Chief, provide written versions of their police logs for public review at their offices as standard practice.

The key lie here is the word “unfairly”, as in it’s unfair to characterize some races as being more crime-prone when they are in fact more crime-prone. (It’s OK to characterize less criminal races as crime-prone though; that serves the Anti-White Narrative). The shitlib lies through her teeth when the topic is race or sex, and she lies so often and so effortlessly that she has lost the discernment to know when her bullshit won’t be swallowed whole by skeptical people outside her bubble.

The other lie is the sneering implication that “sweeping generalizations” somehow have no validity in the real world. The opposite is true: generalizations about certain races don’t materialize out of thin air; they become part of the mass consciousness by repeated observation of the behavior of different races.

The social media reaction to the original Coliseum incident in April was startling in the level of racial profiling that it prompted.

Adjustments made to accommodate the truth are often startling to virtue sneering shitlib SWPLs living in prohibitively costly all-White enclaves.

The General Manager got a call about the incident on her voicemail that used racist and incendiary language that made my mouth drop.

Another lie. Deep inside, she silently agreed with the language.

Many posts used patently offensive language that often involved racial slurs (no news articles ever referenced the race of the offenders yet some members of the public leapt to their own conclusions).

Justifiably, the public leaps to certain conclusions about the race of the perps because the media goes out of its way to conceal the race of the perps. Duh?

Some telephone calls and posts even involved vague threats.

She writes this as if she secretly suspects she deserves the business end of The Happening.

The media has proven its tendency to highlight material in the most inflammatory way possible.

Leftoid-to-human translation guide:
“inflammatory” = “truthful”

As a former journalist,


I can cite for you a number of bias studies that have pointed out media bias and the damaging consequences of it.

Those studies are bunk. (She’s probably referring to stereotype threat.)

The firestorm of criticism in the wake of the Oscar Grant killing centered around a belief that BART police were racially biased. If we were to regularly feed the news media video of crimes on our system that involve minority suspects, particularly when they are minors, we would certainly face questions as to why we were sensationalizing relatively minor crimes and perpetuating false stereotypes in the process.

One, crime by its nature is sensationalistic, and more so when the crime is committed almost entirely by nonWhites.

Two, it isn’t a false stereotype if the stereotype is based on a real, observable pattern of behavior.

The lies dribble from her mouth like cat cum.

I have worked in or with media since the 1980’s.

There’s her problem right there.

My view is that the media’s real interest in the videos of youth phone snatching incidents isn’t the desire for transparency but rather the pursuit of ratings.

Or maybe it’s just an old-fashioned belief that honest and true reporting still matters.

They know that video of these events will drive clicks to their websites and viewers to their programs because people are motivated by fear.

Whenever I hear a shitlib use this line, I want to ask her why she fears racism.

People can be fully informed about crimes that occur on our system without being shown images that will inflame some members of the public and paint the transit agency in a poor and ultimately misleading light.

BART will be bathing in poor light when their transit system is overrun by googles preying on passengers, and years spent actively covering up the nature of the crimes is revealed to the victims’ and their families.

Equalist shitlibs rationalize their narrative as if they fear a justifiable reaction from angry Whites more than they fear unjustifiable criminal predation by nonWhites. But no, what they really fear is the edifice of their carefully manicured egos flaming out upon contact with the illuminating sunfire of plainspoken reality. So they happily lie and throw the occasional bleeding White girl under the bus to preserve their domain of feels.

So many lies, so little rope….

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