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Archive for the ‘The Id Monster’ Category

For those of you new to the blog, I wrote about the inevitable sexbot revolution back in August 2007:

A robot that is an exact replica of your favorite supermodel and that has feedback to sound and touch (for example, she’ll move her limbs and gyrate during sex as well as talk dirty and respond to commands) would supplant all other masturbation tools as the preferred method of getting off for men who can afford it.  Once sexbots become affordable, internet porn consolidates to one or two websites for spank snobs who insist on “authenticity” and proles who must suffer the humiliation of not only being too poor to afford real women but fake ones as well.  But, outside of self-pleasure and procreation, would sexbots replace real women?

For some men, yes.  The replacement would be total, at least until the dating market adjusted to the new reality.  For other men, sexbots would be a part-time replacement.  The result will be a shift in the mating landscape that will put selection pressures on humanity equivalent to a massive plague or a catastrophic famine.

Sexbots are a very real threat to the established order because men’s sexuality is so visually driven.  Compared to women, it is a rather simple affair to create an alternative sexual outlet for men.

Everything that has happened since is gradually confirming the predictions I made in that post. If I was off, it was only in the surprising speed with which we are marching into a world of sexually alluring artificial women. The sexbot revolution is coming, and the (arguably) most beta male country in the world is leading it — Japan. Is anyone surprised that beta males are at the vanguard of the movement? The latest development is an interactive virtual girlfriend with juicy boobs that you can fondle:

Famed for its various 3D adult games, Illusion announced its latest title to be Real Kanojo (”Real Girlfriend”), an interactive virtual girlfriend simulator for the PC, featuring real-time interaction with the polygonally intensive “girlfriend” by way of web camera.

If you stand in front of the webcam naked, does she go cross-eyed? I wonder if the monitor has spooge capture.

UPDATE

Best YouTube comment so far:

can i poke her in the eye, slap her and then throw her off a building? just for fun?

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“Issues”. That’s a twinkletoes word, isn’t it? “We have issues, dear.” “I think we need to discuss some issues.” Almost as bad as “closure”. What makes “issues” ambiguously slippery is the fact that the issues that matter to men diverge so wildly from the issues that matter to women. Women normally leave relationships because of issues having to do with nebulous smoke and mirrors concepts like “compatibility” and “fulfilling her needs”. As all of you must know (since you read my blog) these excuses by women are merely handwaving bromides to conceal the crass tingle generator under the skirt that is actually responsible for her decision-making. Nonetheless, the relationship “issues” that matter to women are indeed a bit more complicated than those that motivate men to either stay with or leave a lover. A woman’s 463 bullet point checklist is a real phenomenon and dwarfs most men’s checklists for acceptable partners. If you don’t like tofu AND you fart in bed AND you voted for Ron Paul, she just might spend sleepless nights agonizing over whether you are The One. (My advice: Ignore 99% of a woman’s “needs”. Attempting to fulfill more than 1% of a woman’s needs will brand you with a big fat “B” for beta.)

Men are fairly clear and even simple in their (usually) unstated reasons for feeling the need to flee a relationship. Essentially, two uber variables are responsible for how men feel about their lovers. One, how hot is she? And two, how novel is her pussy? That’s pretty much all there is. Sure, minor details like compatibility and shared values will have some influence over how warmly men feel about their partners, but these factors pale in comparison to the hotness and freshness of the pussy in question. For example, a man who just met a babe ranked 9 is going to want to fuck her nonstop and dream of slaving away to give her the world. On the other hand, a man who has been with the same 5 ranked woman for years will be able to go weeks, if not months, free of any desire to fuck her as his thoughts are preoccupied with visions of skirt-hiking the bounty of babes he sees on his morning commute every day.

These two important variables influencing men’s feeling of commitment to a lover can be represented in the following handy graphs.

As we can see from the above, most men couldn’t be bothered to bang 5s and below more than once per day. But anything over a 6 and a man’s sexual urge shoots through the roof. 8s, 9s, and 10s are really nature’s natural viagra. A 90 year old who hasn’t sported wood in twenty years will suddenly spring to life if Zooey Deschanel sits naked on his lap.

In this graph we see that the novelty of the pussy has a big impact on how often the man wants to do the woman. Pussy that he’s woken up next to for ten years is unlikely to stir his loins at all, while brand new pussy will remind him why it’s great to be alive. An ugly truth of life is that men, unlike women, simply get off on sexual variety for its own sake. Don’t take it personally, ladies. We’re not cads. We’re just formed that way.

This post should serve as a valuable guide for women wanting to figure out just how deeply loyal their boyfriends or husbands actually feel towards them. A man’s strength of commitment can be measured surprisingly accurately by these two variables.

(Note that I’m referring to a man’s “strength” of commitment, not his “lack of options preventing disloyalty”. These are two different concepts. A man with lots of options on the dating market — i.e. an alpha — will only feel strongly loyal — and hence, unlikely to cheat or withhold resources — to a girlfriend who is hot and piping fresh. This strong emotion-directed loyalty is a separate beast from social- and peer-influenced loyalty, and is the type of loyalty that burns brightest but is also quickest to fade. Betas also lose their sense of strong emotional loyalty, but unlike the alphas their lack of options means they are pretty much stuck with the same old same old, mouthing platitudes on anniversaries and birthdays to keep the mutli-horned ball-smashing divorce demon from breaching a portal to his world.)

So, ladies, if you want to know how commited he is to you, a simple test (and one that requires being bracingly honest with yourself) is to tally how many times per day on average he desires you intimately. Is he constantly groping you? Good news! He hardly notices other women. Has it been a week since he last fucked you? Better start combing through his cellphone texts.

When I start feeling like I could go a day without fucking my girlfriend, that’s when I seriously mull the option to reenter the dating market with purpose. I start flirting with other women and running game again like I was single and horny. And I notice more clearly when other women are flirting with me. This may seem like I’m placing some hard-to-please demands on my women, but the woman who can keep me sexually entertained for years will know she is a worthy lover indeed.

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Do you think I am the first to notice that a significant number/sizeable minority/secret majority of women get turned on when a man hits them?

Heh. No. Here’s a little ditty by The Crystals, an all women singing group, circa early 1960s:

Thanks to reader Luke Stiles for sending me this link.

And to all you piously indignant losers and pantywaist nancyboys with your skirts over your heads who can’t handle the truth… take it up with the ladies. They were singing about the dark recesses of female desire long before I ever arrived on the scene.

In the voice of that squat little lady from Poltergeist: This truth is gleaned.

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Every once in a while, when I sense the white knighting idealism beginning to take a stronger toehold on the thinking of some of my readers, I like to offer helpful reminders about the true nature of the creatures they are doomed to forever misunderstand.

In today’s special edition, a Seattle 19 year old pimp legally named Deshawn Cashmoney Clark was convicted for running a prostitution ring (hat tip: reader Master Dogen). This is not the most humorously banal angle of the story, though. No, the really SHOCKING, HEAVEN FORFEND surprise is how his harem of hookers is sticking by this uber-asshole’s side.

When that teen left the area in early 2008, Clark took up with a then-15-year-old girl he’d also met while attending school in West Seattle.

The two had been dating for several months when Clark propositioned her, demanding that she “walk the track” on Pacific Highway South and solicit payment for sex. While she did so, Clark would monitor her earnings by cell phone.

“If he felt that she was taking breaks unnecessarily, he yelled at her to get back out on the track and make him some money,” O’Donnell said in court documents. “At the end of each day, he returned to pick her up and took the money she had earned.”

The girl had run away from home while working for Clark, O’Donnell told the court. In one instance, the girl’s mother believed she had located her daughter. Instead, she found Clark, who, with a smile, issued her a warning.

“You will never find her,” Clark said, according to court documents. “I’ve got her so tight. She’s all mine.”

That girl — tattooed in Clark’s honor with the words “daddy’s little girl” — continued to support Clark throughout his trial, even as he married another woman.

Cashmoney wasn’t bluffing. He had her locked down, because she *wanted* to be locked down by him. This is a revelation about the female mind that escapes the logical thinking of so many men — why would a woman want to be with a man like Cashmoney? Why would any woman willingly offer herself as a rentable hole to a man hawking her goods to streetside bidders? Because women want to submit to a powerful man. Whether that power comes in the form of a crooning emo rock star, a CEO, or a pimp daddy with fists of fury doesn’t matter. All that matters is the male power, and the tingly feeling of submitting — wholly, completely — to that power. Every woman, deep DEEP inside, wants to be “daddy’s little girl”.

One admitted pimp and Street Mobb member, Mycah Johnson, described learning how to manipulate and intimidate young women from Clark.

“‘Cash’ showed me how to be a pimp,” Johnson wrote the court. “He would tell me where I should have (her) work and would explain how to use Craigslist to post her ads. He told me how to manage (her), specifically with respect to the money she earned — I was to keep all of it.”

Betas everywhere would do well to read the life stories of pimps. They have some useful advice. Naturally, the anti-game crowd will squawk “oh but these women were being manipulated!” They love that word manipulate. Cling to it like a newborn chimp to its mother’s furry belly. So much can be dismissed for consideration by shotgunning that word “manipulation” into any conversation about men and women they find distasteful. Unfortunately for them, it isn’t as readily dismissible as all that. Like hypnosis, you can only manipulate those who are manipulable. Those who, at some level, wish for the manipulation because they enjoy it. It is for this reason that the term manipulation is next to useless — apply a broad enough definition and you indict any goal-oriented communication as “manipulation”. Seduction? Manipulation. Sales? Manipulation. Politics? Manipulation. Convincing a buddy to see a great movie you just saw? Manipulation. No, Cashmoney’s honeys craved his manipulation. It TURNED THEM ON. How would he and his brethren pimps otherwise know how to “handle” women in the prime of their marketability? He knew because the evidence was staring him in the face — women who would fall for him, screw him, defend him, and yes… even love him.

The cries of “manipulation” ring louder. “Those women didn’t know what was happening to them!”, they will scream. Right-o. Funny thing is, the world is full to brimming with lovelorn betas attempting to manipulate women into sex and running headlong into a major road blockage. Their manipulations aren’t working. Some manipulations are clearly more effective than other manipulations. And which ones would those be? Well, the manipulations that turn women on!

Addressing North, defense attorney Alfoster Garrett, Jr., argued that, while his client profited from prostituting the teens, they were willing participants in the scheme.

Describing Clark as a “scapegoat,” Garrett noted that his client was 16 or 17 during at the time he was accused of prostituting the other youths.

This is one of those few times I agree the defense attorney has it exactly right. What else do you call an employee of Clark’s who cheers him on in court except a willing participant in his lifestyle and chosen career? Who you gonna believe, your lying eyes or a bunch of sociology trained femtards? It’s time to reform the law. Yes, as ringleaders and the administers of violence, pimps are more culpable than their whores, but whores share some of the blame. A fair justice system would punish all parties involved.

While he their circumstances may have made them susceptible to the pimp, Clark’s upbringing set him on a path to crime.

“He is a product of his environment,” Garrett said, asking that Clark receive an exceptionally short sentence.

Actually, his genes set him on his path of procuring limitless loyal poon. His environment only greased the skids.

North rejected the contention that the teens’ former involvement in prostitution evidenced a desire to continue in that life.

“I don’t find that the victims were willing participants,” North said. “It’s a complex relationship not unlike a domestic violence situation.”

Paging Rihanna. Still nurture pangs of love for your past lover Chris Brown, don’t you babe? I know, I understand. CH is here. No judgment. Pour out your heart. I won’t bite. Much.

North’s decision to impose the 17-year term followed a plea by Clark’s 19-year-old wife, Julata Clark.

Julata Clark, who gave birth to Deshawn Clark’s second child weeks before he was sentenced, said her husband is young and able to change his life.

The hilarity train keeps on rolling. Hey, Cashmoney had family values. The guy got married! Gotta love a wife with two kids storming court to support her husband’s pimping, carousing, and general assholery to the nth degree.

And society’s gotta love that this guy, at the ripe age of 19, already pumped out a couple of spawn while MBA toting 30 year olds examine their stock portfolios to gauge whether now is the right time to have that first autistic, underweight baby.

A parting thought. Owing to the rank stupidity or, more generously, the willful misinterpretation, of a minority of my readers who can’t wrap their minds around the simple concept of is-ought and who fervently believe (or secretly wish) my posts detailing in loving glory how much chicks dig jerks is tantamount to advocating every man set himself on the path of pimpdom, let me remind you that I am merely a courier of reality. I tell you how it is; what you do with that knowledge is up to you. The Pimp’s Way holds much truth about the nature of women in their fertile prime from which the average law-abiding man can personally benefit, but that truth does not need to come delivered in the same package to be effective in your own lives. You grasp the truth, and then you apply it to yourself and your dealings with women in the way that is most congruent with your values.

And to the all-too-predictable choir of cliche-spouters: No shit not *every* woman likes assholes. Do I need to put that addendum after every fucking sentence I write, or are you capable of discerning the all too obvious subtext? Here are my thoughts on the phenomenon of chicks digging jerks:

  • Like most things about human nature, the female asshole-loving urge runs along a bell curve. To the far left we have women who would have nothing to do with assholes. To the far right we have Cashmoney’s honeys. Bunched in the middle are most women, who despite their protestastions to the contrary get tingly for an asshole, but won’t see it all the way to shacking up with a pimp.
  • So many overaged yentas write to me telling me indignantly how they despise assholes and would never do what the girls featured in my posts do. I don’t have reason to doubt them… much, but I would remind them that the types of women who are most fond of assholes are exactly those women men most desire — that is to say, the young, supple babes with sex in their eyes and femininity in their souls. As women age out of attractiveness, they also (coincidentally!) age out of their attraction for assholes. Which brings me to…
  • Maxim #71: In their sexual primes women’s attraction for assholes is at its strongest. You can catch a lot of hungry flies with honey, but shit attracts the most well-fed flies.

Tune in next week for another edition of “WOW, that’s news to me!”

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It seems that my spirited discussion of resolving the ultimate betrayal through mandatory paternity testing made the rounds on the internet. A male commenter at Overcoming Bias had this to say about the CHian contention that cuckoldry is on a par with rape, if not even more psychologically traumatic:

And as to whether it’s worse [for a woman] to be raped or [a man to be] cuckolded – I cannot even begin to understand the trauma or ostracization of the first (which by the way happens to A LOT more than two percent the population) while the second would only hurt because of the dishonesty. It’s a difference of several orders of magnitude!

Oh rilly? I think it’s time to put this assertion to the test with a leetle thought experiment. Imagine two highly unpleasant scenarios.

Scenario 1

You are walking past an alleyway when Big Bad Bubba comes up behind you and drags you into the dark alley, muttering “you look real purty for a grown boy” as he uses his bulk to press you into the damp brick wall, his beefy bear paws yanking your jeans and boxers down to your ankles. You try to resist but his strength is overwhelming. He smashes your face into the wall and sticks a knife to your throat, saying he’ll cut you if you scream. Suddenly, a seering pain shoots up your rectum. You struggle to get away but you are immobilized. The pain continues for what seems an eternity but is in actuality only one minute and 22 seconds. Punctuating his release with a great heaving grunt, Bubba withdraws, spent, and cackles as he walks off, the lingering musky stench of his sweat offending your nostrils. Vomit rises up your throat and you stumble to your knees, your hands grasping at pebbles on the ground. You are sure your innards are spilling out on a torrent of blood from your asshole, but luckily when you arrive at the hospital an hour later the doctors tell you there was no permanent damage to your poopenshaften and you are AIDS free. You go home, go to sleep, and call in sick the following two days. Over the following months you go to the gym more frequently than you used to, working out your shame and anger in the weight room. People compliment your improved physique. You tell no one of your ordeal.

Scenario 2

You are married to the love of your life. In the first year of wedded bliss, your wife gets pregnant. Nine months later an infant pops out. You are filled with so much joy you hardly notice the brief flicker of discomfort you feel when you ponder that the child looks nothing like you, nor do you pay much attention to all your relatives telling you how much the child looks like you. Time passes. You spend countless hours, days, weeks, months, years loving your child, wiping his ass, taking him to the park, strapping him in the car seat and struggling with the belts and clips, working extra long hours to afford a move to a better neighborhood so your child can go to a good school, sacrificing your beloved guitar gig with a local band to spend that newly freed up personal time helping your child with his homework, attending his soccer games, cheering for him when he scores a goal, instructing him how to swing a bat and build a model airplane, teaching him how to defend himself in a fight, disciplining him for a bad grade in english, setting aside a chunk of your income for his college fund, and generally reorganizing your life in almost every conceivable way for your child’s benefit. Then, when your child is age 10, through a series of fateful circumstances you discover he is another man’s biological son. Your gut implodes and your heart crashes. Your mouth has dried into a sticky velcro. You feel as if you have just seen everyone you love die horrible deaths in front of you. Your brain is scorched and the room spins for what seems like an eternity but is in actuality only two hours and 43 minutes. Over the next year you learn that, despite your best efforts at some kind of recompense or at minimum freedom from pain, the law has decided in its infinite wisdom to require you to pay child support for another eight years to the wife you divorced, in the interests of the child. Betrayal eviscerates your sense of self. Besides the obvious lie, you wonder at the cascade of lies in tow. Did your wife whom you loved so much ever really love you? Did anyone else know? Did they think you a fool? Was your dignity worth so little to the people who mattered to you most? You ask these questions already knowing the answers.

Now that you have considered these two vile scenarios I want you to vote which of the two, should you be forced to endure one of them, you would rather have happen to you. This voting is for my male readers only. Ladies, you can take a time out with your purple saguaros.

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Cuckolded men. A lot of readers emailed me this New York Beta Times story about the State of Paternity in America today. Before reading, you should grab your Pepto Bismol, because your stomach is going to turn. Get ready to descend into the hell matrix of the unwitting beta male raising another man’s child, where torments beyond your most chilling nightmares await.

The revelation from a DNA test was devastating and prompted him to leave his wife — but he had not renounced their child. He continued to feel that in all the ways that mattered, she was still his daughter, and he faithfully paid her child support. It was only when he learned that his ex-wife was about to marry the man who she said actually was the girl’s biological father that Mike flipped. Supporting another man’s child suddenly became unbearable.Two years after filing the suit that sought to end his paternal rights, Mike is still irate about the fix he’s in. “I pay child support to a biologically intact family,” Mike told me, his voice cracking with incredulity. “A father and mother, married, who live with their own child. And I pay support for that child. How ridiculous is that?”

Ridiculous is one way to put it. Evil is another.

Tanner Pruitt, who owns a small manufacturing business in Texas, paid child support for seven years after divorcing his wife. His daughter never looked like him, but it wasn’t until she was 12 that it began to bother him. He told the girl he wanted to check something in her mouth, quickly swabbed some cheek cells and sent the samples off to a lab. After the DNA test showed they weren’t related, he contacted a lawyer, figuring the lab results would release him from child-support payments and justify reimbursement from the biological father. But the lawyer told Pruitt his only option was to take the matter to court and that doing so might mean giving up his right to see the girl at all. It might also alert her to the truth. Pruitt didn’t want to chance either possibility, so he stayed silent and kept paying.“I spent thousands and thousands of dollars, and it hasn’t cost that biological father a penny, and yeah, I’m angry, but it would have been more harm to her psychologically than it was worth,” says Pruitt, who eventually fought for, and won, full custody.

This is why I support mandatory paternity testing (MPT) at birth. MPT would completely negate the risk of having to choose between loyalty to a child to whom the father has already bonded, and walking away to leave the child to the whore mother to raise. It’s a simple procedure that would intrude on no one’s rights or emotional well-being, similar to how the state requires driver’s tests for people who want the privilege of driving. By making it mandatory, all issues of trust are rendered moot. If it’s discovered the child isn’t his, the father is legally absolved of any further paternal or marital obligations, and is welcome to exit the marriage without having to pay one red cent to the bitch.

Any woman who even utters a peep against MPT has shown her cards. She is a filthy wretched cuntrag who wishes the system to be rigged in her favor — morality, fairness, and justice be damned. (hi anony!)

Some may question whether MPT is good for society, inasmuch as it dysgenically removes the option for women to carry the species forward by duping betas into raising and propagating alpha genes. This concern rests on a key assumption — that cheating women are making the eugenically correct choice. My suspicion, based on what I’ve heard about unfaithful whores, is that they are not. They are, instead, fucking around with assorted badboys.

Mike’s first inkling that something was amiss in his marriage was in 2000, when he was digging through a closet looking for the source of some mice. He didn’t find any nests, but he did come upon a plastic grocery bag of love letters to his wife, Stephanie, from her co-worker Rob. Confronted, Stephanie confessed to a fleeting affair but assured Mike that L., then nearly 3, was his.

If you recorded the answers of one million cheating whores at the moment when their doubting husbands questioned them about the paternity of their kids, only one woman would tell the truth to the man she married “till death do us part”. The other 999,999 women would lie. This is the juggernaut of female depravity you are up against, men. Never forget that.

CARNELL SMITH, an engineer-turned-lobbyist in Georgia, is the leading advocate for men like Mike. In 2001, after Smith’s own paternity struggle, he formed U.S. Citizens Against Paternity Fraud, to help the men he calls “duped dads.” In his most notable success, Smith persuaded Georgia lawmakers to rescind nonbiological fathers’ financial obligations, no matter the child’s age or how close the relationship. Smith then became the first man to disestablish paternity under that law.

Carnell Smith is a goddamned American hero. Step up to the Chateau gates, Carnell, you have more than earned your place at the table among the “King of the Alphas” greats.

With the scientific proof in hand, men like Carnell Smith began fighting back. A few months after Smith split up with his girlfriend in 1988, she announced she was pregnant with his child. Believing her, he signed a paternity acknowledgment for their daughter, Chandria.

Maxim #666: When a woman has incentive to lie, she will choose lying over honesty EVERY SINGLE TIME.

Corollary to Maxim #666: Treat woman like Soviet Russia — Trust but verify.

He obtained joint custody, paid her support and spent virtually every weekend with his little girl. When Chandria was 11, her mother sued to increase support. Smith decided to be tested, and the results excluded him as the father. In a lawsuit, Smith demanded Chandria’s mother pay back the $40,000 he had laid out in what he calls “involuntary servitude” and fraud. The court ruled against Smith, concluding that he had known that his former girlfriend had other partners at the end of their relationship and should have realized he might not be the father. By not exercising his “due diligence” and getting a DNA test early on, the court put the burden on Smith for not unearthing the truth sooner.

Did you get that? The court basically said to Smith “Hey, your fault for believing your girlfriend’s lies. What did you expect? She’s a woman. Women lie! So keep paying, bitchboy.”

If you are an American male, know this: Your women aren’t on your side. Your government isn’t on your side. Your law isn’t on your side. Your culture isn’t on your side. You are expendable. Your use is as cannon fodder for pointless wars, cannon fathers for bastard children, and cannon dollars for whoring sluts.

Would you die for this country that so despises you? Would you care if women who aren’t related to you or fucking you got raped? Would you care if *any* woman got raped? Orwell had it half right — a boot stamping on a beta face and high heels grinding into a beta crotch – forever.

Chandria now attends college in Georgia. She has seen Carnell Smith on the local news and on the Internet and cannot reconcile the man who seems to her so insensitive with the father she knew: attentive, seemingly proud of their relationship and eager to spend time with her. “He was what a father was supposed to be,” she says, “but when things changed, he completely disconnected. That’s just not fair. You’ve been in my life my entire life and for you to just cut that off for money, well, that’s not fair to anybody.”

Carnell Smith, if I ever meet you, beer’s on me. And I don’t buy beers for just anyone.

Chandria, if you think it’s not fair, you have but one person to point your accusing finger at — your whore mother.

For the rest of you rationalizers who think that Chandria’s bitter tears prove that rectifying paternity fraud should take a back seat to the welfare of the child, kindly redirect your effrontery at the perp who deserves it — the cheating woman. If the child suffers, the unfaithful mother should have thought of that before spreading for the thug du jour.

Child-welfare advocates say that making biology the sole determinant of paternity in cases like Smith’s puts the nonbiological father’s interest above the child’s.

You don’t say! And all this time I thought eighteen years of financial and psychological enslavement was in the nonbiological father’s interest.

Besides, society has increasingly recognized that parenthood is not necessarily bound to genetics.

Society is an ass.

“Having been involved in cases like these, I think the answer to ‘Is it my kid?’ is irrationally important to the cuckolded husband,” says Carol McCarthy, an officer of the Pennsylvania chapter of the American Academy of Matrimonial Lawyers. “My own biases are going into this because I’m adopted, so I’m real into ‘your parents are the people who raise you.’ I couldn’t care less who my biological parents are. My parents are the ones who went through all the crap I gave them growing up.”

And people wonder why I have so much hatred in my heart for sophistic bitch lawyers. (hi al!)

Let’s rephrase Mizz Carol McCarthy’s quote for clarity:

“Having been involved in cases like these, I think the answer to ‘Is it my kid?’ is irrationally important to the falsely impregnated wife,” says Carol McCarthy, an officer of the Pennsylvania chapter of the American Academy of Patrimonial Lawyers. “My own biases are going into this because my mother who unknowingly had another woman’s fertilized egg implanted in her womb went through with the pregnancy, so I’m real into ‘your parents are the people who raise you.’ I couldn’t care less who my biological parents are. My parents are the ones who went through all the crap I gave them growing up.”

There, that should uncloud Mizz McCarthy’s mind. PS Please put your head under a rolling bus.

WHY IS IT THAT we imbue genetic relationships with a potency that borders on magic?

It’s funny when smart people ask these kinds of questions as if they don’t already know the answer. It’s as if in the asking they absolve themselves of the guilt they feel for following the same amoral code that is followed by the proles and untouchables to whom they feel superior.

It doesn’t need to be answered, but I’ll answer it anyway, coyly: The reason we humans have evolved to be capable of wondering why we imbue genetic relationships with potency is because genetic relationships have potency.

Three and a half years earlier, at a federally convened symposium on the increase in paternity questions, a roomful of child-welfare researchers, legal experts, academics and government administrators agreed that much pain could be avoided if paternity was accurately established in a baby’s first days. Several suggested that DNA paternity tests should be routine at birth, or at least before every paternity acknowledgment is signed and every default order entered. In 2001 the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court urged the state to require that putative fathers submit to genetic testing before signing a paternity-acknowledgment form or child-support agreement, arguing that “to do otherwise places at risk the well-being of children.”

In other words, the same care that hospitals take ensuring that the right mother is connected to the right newborn — footprints, matching ID bands, guarded nurseries, surveillance cameras — should be taken to verify that the right man is deemed father.

Good to see the CH worldview is being considered. It’s easy to be right when you hold firm to your conviction that the truth, no matter how dispiriting, is your guiding principle. For in the end, the truth always wins out —
one
way
or
the
other.

Mandatory DNA testing for everyone would be a radical, not to mention costly, shift in policy.

So was WWII. But we fought to the end. The bottom line is this: Either men have equal rights to women under the law, or they do not. As it stands right now, the courts are deciding in favor of men as being lesser citizens than women.

In other news, Barack Obama’s health care plan would ensure government coverage of mammograms for all women over the age of 40. No word on coverage for men’s prostate exams.

“I got a picture in my head,” L. [the bastard daughter] said, “that the test people would call and say they had been wrong, that he really was my biological dad and that everything I had thought before never really happened.”

Fury and unconsolable sadness
she anguishes
pain is her fate
blame needing to be cast
she searches haphazardly
when her demon
stands right before her
hi mom.

Think of the worst things women can do to men. Draw up a list. I’ll start:

Flirt with other men in front of him.
Steal from him.
Cheat on him.
Give him an STD.
Entrap him with pregnancy.
Withhold sex for favors.
Prick holes in his condoms.
Dick sandwich.
Get fat.
Disrespect his privacy and gossip about him.
Falsely accuse him of rape.
Use the rigged divorce courts against him.
Cut him off from his children.
Cuckhold him.

Of all these monstrous expressions of the female id, one rises above the rest in sheer malevolence — the act of cuckolding. Nothing else, save perhaps a successfully prosecuted false rape accusation, comes close in distilled essence of ovarian evil. Cuckoldry is slavery. It is metadeath. It is soul murder. It is the motherfucker of all lies. As men, we are beholden to guard against it by any means necessary. Today, in 2009 America, that means refusing to participate in the corrupted institution of marriage and hiding your assets overseas.

Here are the faces of society’s ultimate losers:

If beta has a “look”, these men have it.

Carnell Smith is the man in the third photo. He is a genuine American hero; a warrior fighting the long hard battle for our benefit. Send him a note of appreciation and support. A nation is saved one righteous man at a time.

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ME: So you eat fish but not delicious pig or cow?

GIRL: Fish are different. I don’t like the way farm animals are treated. It’s inhumane. Some animals have intelligence and emotions. Have you seen those big brown eyes on cows?

ME: Changing the subject for a sec… you’re very pro-choice right? You believe abortion should be legal.

GIRL: Of course.

ME: You don’t have a problem with third trimester fetuses getting torn limb from limb and sucked out of the womb?

GIRL: Ugh, why do you have to say that? Are you anti-abortion or something?

ME: Actually, no, I have no problem with abortion. But then I have no problem with killing and eating cow either.

A big reason abortion has such wide acceptance is because the disgust reflex isn’t triggered. The bloody affair takes place hidden behind closed flesh, so to speak. If the womb were transparent, I doubt legal justification for abortion beyond the first trimester would exist.

A true sadist embraces cruelty even when, maybe especially when, he can witness the tortured writhings of his victim. Ever see video footage of a guy about to jump off a building? Some people in the crowd below will yell “Jump!” as the poor guy stands high above them, lonely on the ledge, contemplating a suicidal leap. Would you yell “Jump!” if you could clearly see that man’s face, etched with pain and sadness?

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