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In a recent comment thread, I asked a reader a very simple question, which remains, predictably, unanswered.

A very simple question for the Obamanauts who think their savior deserves the presidency: if he had been white, would he have been elected President? Reaction time in your answer will go toward your final score.

There is only one correct answer: no. There ‘s not a chance in hell Obama would have gotten anywhere near the White House had he been a white community organizer, aka shiftless bum. The beauty of asking leftoids this oh so innocent question with such an oh so obvious answer is that I get to enjoy a spectacle of self-debasement no matter how they answer. If they answer, “Yes, he would have been elected as a white man”, they must betray any belief in their personal virtue to lie so blatantly. If they answer, “No”, they betray their professed ideology and the true motives for electing Obama.

Obama doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of America’s future, because Obama was elected as a fighting symbol for the various warring groups that presently comprise the riven nation; groups who are ultimately driving the cultural and economic trajectory. He was always, and remains so, a totemic symbol with zero substance. Nothing more than a herald for malignant tumult already set in motion by the time he was bounced aloft by the vaporous politics of feels.

– SWPL coastal whites (Yankees in hereditary vernacular) voted for Obama so they could experience a full body orgasm from furiously stroking their tumescent egos for their enlightened attitude. Obama symbolized validation of their belief in their innate goodness.
– Hispanics voted for Obama so they could enjoy the blessings of government largesse. Obama symbolized leverage against more productive and smarter people.
– Blacks voted for Obama because he is (half) black. Obama symbolized the ascendancy of their tribe. (Temperamentally, Obama is about as black as Christian Lander.)
– Native Americans voted for Obama because they were drunk. Obama symbolized another round.
– Asians voted for Obama because he isn’t conspicuously Christian. Obama symbolized the opposite of those antediluvian religious whites who built America from scratch.
– Single white women voted for Obama because he’s the soulful sugar daddy who justifies their lifestyle and stifling conformism. Obama symbolized rebuke of boring beta white men.
– Other voted for Obama because, deep in their hearts, they know he is one of them. Obama symbolized the normalization of deviancy.
– The Top voted for Obama because he symbolized suppression of the Middle. The Bottom voted for Obama because he symbolized ingestion of the Middle.

Obama the Symbol. Obama the Shell Entity. Obama the Therapeutic Cipher. As diversity, both of the elite and commoner varieties, within a nation expands, so too does the need for ever more powerful yet increasingly empty symbols of each tribe’s worth.

What about those whites (aka Cavaliers) who didn’t vote for Obama? Romney did, after all, garner a majority of the total white vote, at levels unseen since the Reagan presidencies. (But, unlike the Reagan years when whites were still a ways from electoral diminishment, Romney couldn’t win with those substantial white tallies against the unstoppable force of demographic shift.)

To those whites not with the program, their vote was a blow against a terrible symbol of antagonism. They saw the bloody banner flapping in the wind as enemy tribes crested the horizon and slowly surrounded them. And they reacted with a swiftness, cleaving to their own symbol, even one as ineffectual and emotionally disconnected as Romney. But their numbers were just too few, and getting fewer by the day.

All you will ever need to know about the imprint that the Obama Presidency will leave on the psyche of this segregating nation was shrieked by delirious followers in the streets on election night in 2008:

Hope and Change!

Like the buffoonish, thin-skinned meathead who loudly proclaims his prowess to a doubtful crowd, the chorus of cultists repetitively singing the Hope and Change anthem till tears welled in their eyes betrayed a deep disillusion with the substance of their yearning. The lesson is unmissable: the more insistent the emotional incantations declaring universalistic hope and change, the more likely the chanters have base, tribal motives. Emotionalism is a hallmark of a people that no longer believe in anything but egocentric validation, and rationalizing by whatever sophistry necessary their will to self-endorsement.

In totally unrelated news, a “group of teens” is at it again! The Cathedral has become such a rank parody that the time is right to tactically step aside and let the enemy discredit itself. Why waste energy fighting a foe at full strength when you can just jeer at him as he punches himself in the nads?

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Never let it be said CH shies from bringing to the world the more devious applications of game. This example crops up in the player literature now and again: pretending to be gay to score same night lays.

If you’re the type of man who prefers winning to behaving ethically or manfully, you can’t go wrong with Fake Gay Game. But don’t whip yourself too hard for delving into the darkest of arts. All women are complicit in their seduction. Yes, even when they are seduced by men pretending to be gay. After all, she can leave his den of deceit any time. No one cuffed her to a bed post, or forced her to try and “convert” a gay guy.

Running a multinational corporation? No. Pretending to be gay? Now that’s how you bang out the modern American woman.

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There’s a growing consensus in the social sciences that women swoon uncontrollably for men who possess the suite of psychological traits known colloquially as the Dark Triad. But now a new study has come out which throws an additional psychological trait into the mix of (mostly) male pathologies that cause women to cream their pretty pantaloons:

Sadism.

Behavioral confirmation of everyday sadism.

Past research on socially aversive personalities has focused on subclinical psychopathy, subclinical narcissism, and Machiavellianism-the “Dark Triad” of personality. In the research reported here, we evaluated whether an everyday form of sadism should be added to that list. Acts of apparent cruelty were captured using two laboratory procedures, and we showed that such behavior could be predicted with two measures of sadistic personality. Study 1 featured a bug-killing paradigm. As expected, sadists volunteered to kill bugs at greater rates than did nonsadists. Study 2 examined willingness to harm an innocent victim. When aggression was easy, sadism and Dark Triad measures predicted unprovoked aggression. However, only sadists were willing to work for the opportunity to hurt an innocent person. In both studies, sadism emerged as an independent predictor of behavior reflecting an appetite for cruelty. Together, these findings support the construct validity of everyday sadism and its incorporation into a new “Dark Tetrad” of personality.

“However, only sadists were willing to work for the opportunity to hurt an innocent person.”

Not sure why, but that line makes me 😆

“Yeah, tough day at the office. Didn’t get to backstab as many cheerful coworkers as I wanted to. May have to work overtime this weekend to make up for the knife twisting deficit.”

Naturally, the question that arises is if a man with an appetite for cruelty (why you lookin’ at me funny?) has the same effect on a woman’s desire as does a man with the traditional Dark Triad traits. Narcissism, Machiavellianism, psychopathy… chicks dig men with them. How about we throw wanton cruelty into the demonic stew. Does the full flowering of the Dark Tetrad turn a skilled ladyslayer into a God of Gash? My anecdotal impression is that it does. Oh sure, no woman will actually admit to being turned on by a sadistic man, but just watch how they act after the bastard has uncorked some wholly unnecessary joke at some innocent naif’s expense.

Offhand, a few of history’s great womanizers had a streak of sadism, a thrill for the soulkill. Maybe, like the Dark Triad, sadism signals alpha male mating value. A cocky disregard for retribution or rules, an indifference to the feelings of others, a concern only for one’s own pleasure… this is the stuff of alluring men.

Or perhaps sadism is like charm: easily overdone. Too much charm is icky and provokes distrust in women. Too much sadism, or misdirected sadism, might do the same. But just a little bit, once in a while, is the spice that stirs a woman’s sexuality.

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The reason there aren’t even more disproportionately committed black-on-white crimes than there already are is not because blacks don’t hold much anti-white animus; it’s because the opportunity to prey on whites is limited.

Aided by store surveillance footage, Davis and Jones–parents to four children [ed: the future’s looking brighter every day]–were arrested yesterday. Dawkins identified both suspects when shown photo lineups.

During questioning, an “apologetic” Davis reportedly confessed to robbing Dawkins, claiming that he “stole the property because he needed new tires for his car.” Jones admitted that she and Davis went to GameStop intending to “catch a cracker,” which she said was slang for robbing a white person, cops reported. Instead, they robbed Dawkins, with whom Davis said she fought until Davis was able to drive away.

Blacks can’t “catch a cracker” if there are no crackers around to catch. This is why, despite SWPL moral posturing to the contrary, most whites with half a brain don’t live in the ghetto, and avoid meandering into ghetto space when an alternate path of travel is available. For the ugly truth is that blacks would target a hell of a lot more whites for their very special lessons in impulsive violence if whites made themselves more convenient plushtoys. But because most criminals are lazy and don’t venture far from their hunting grounds, the scope of their target selection is typically no larger than a four-block radius surrounding their filthy hovels.

Whites and other non-blacks (and even some blacks) who avoid predominantly black hoods — as per Derbyshire’s advice in his seminal column The Talk — are acting in their best interest and doing the smart thing by refusing to become an easy mark for thugs who perceive, more rightly than wrongly, that whites are soft targets of their malevolence. Narrative-enslaved conservatives who phonily lament the tragedy of “black-on-black” crime should know that black-on-white crime would dwarf it were it not for the happy “accident” of geographical segregation and black indolence. Remember that the next time you’re tempted to think that blacks can’t be racist because, hey, they kill so may of their own kind. They’d take out a lot more whites if whites would just stop moving the hell away from them. Stand still, cracker!

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A recently published book by an old friend of Hitler’s called “The Young Hitler I Knew” offers amazing insight into Hitler’s personality and early life as a romantic teenager. Evidence surfaces that Hitler was (though the author never states it outright), by disposition or by experience, a beta male with a bad case of one-itis and zero game who pedestalized women.

Kubizek’s uncensored account throws a fascinating light on the fanatical mind of the future Fuhrer.

For it contains, for the first time, the full story of Hitler’s teenage obsession with a pretty girl called Stefanie Isak, whose surname has clear Jewish origins.

And although Hitler’s distinguished biographer Sir Ian Kershaw has rightly dismissed Hitler’s feelings for Stefanie as ‘a juvenile infatuation’, the passion with which Hitler stalked her and fantasised about kidnapping and committing suicide with her lets us glimpse the mentality of the person he was destined to become.

Furthermore, August Kubizek’s account reveals that Hitler was utterly unconcerned as to whether the girl after whom he lusted was Jewish or not.

Those “juvenile infatuations” are not to be underestimated in their power as origin sources of a man’s lifelong character; for from those experiences a man holds his deepest, most cherished or most regretted memories, and the shadow of their mark haunts him for life. Now let’s contemplate the evidence for Hitler’s betaness in the following account of his courtship rituals:

Kubizek dates Hitler’s infatuation with Stefanie, which lasted four years, from the beginning of his 16th year, to an evening in the spring of 1905 when they went out for a stroll in the Landstrasse in Linz: “Adolf gripped my arm and asked me excitedly what I thought of that slim, blonde girl walking along arm-in-arm with her mother. ‘You must know, I?m in love with her,’ he added resolutely.”

Kubizek recalled that Stefanie Isak, he didn’t reveal her surname during the Third Reich years when the book was published under strict censorship, for obvious reasons, was a distinguished-looking girl, tall and slim.

“Her eyes were very beautiful, bright and expressive. She was exceptionally well-dressed and her bearing indicated that she came from a good, well-to-do family.”

Yet that was all the two teenagers knew about Stefanie to begin with, so they took to standing in a nearby street every evening at five o’clock, waiting for her to walk over the bridge to the main square.

“It would have been improper to address Stefanie,” recalled Kubizek, “as neither of us had been introduced to the young lady. A glance had to take the place of a greeting. From then on, Adolf did not take his eyes off Stefanie. In that moment he was changed, no longer his own self.” For someone who despised and denounced the social conventions of the bourgeoisie, Hitler conformed to them rather meekly when it came to Stefanie, possibly out of stultifying shyness.

Hitler’s game so far: Shy glances.

The Landstrasse was a favourite place for friends to meet in Linz. “There was a lot of flirting and the young Army officers were particularly good at it,” remembered Kubizek.

It would infuriate Hitler whenever he spotted young officers talking to Stefanie. His friend sympathised: “Poor, pallid youngsters like Adolf naturally cannot compete with these lieutenants in their smart uniforms.” Instead of trying to engage her interest and attention through the exercise of charm or humour, however, Hitler simply fumed in the shadows. “Conceited blockheads,” he would say of his rivals.

Hitler the emo.

Kubizek wrote that Hitler’s hatred of them led to his “uncompromising enmity towards the officer class as a whole, and everything military in general. It annoyed him intensely that Stefanie mixed with such idlers who, he insisted, wore corsets and used scent”.

Hitler’s dislike and distrust of the officer class, especially generals, was to stay with him for the rest of his life.

Hitler the bitterboy beta. Instead of learning from his alpha male betters, he lashed out at them, much the same way our modern manboobs lash out at alpha male “douchebags” and “players”.

Fortunately, as she chatted happily with her Austrian officer beaux, the 17-year-old Stefanie, who Kubizek recalled had a “natural and open expression” as well as “a freshness and lack of affectation”, had no inkling that she was being stalked by Hitler.

Hitler the creeper.

Kubizek states: “Stefanie had no idea how deeply Adolf was in love with her; she regarded him as a somewhat shy, but nevertheless remarkably tenacious and faithful, admirer.

Hitler in the friendzone.

“When she responded with a smile to his inquiring glance, he was happy and his mood became unlike anything I had ever observed in him.

Hitler the overly hopeful beta.

“But when Stefanie, as happened just as often, coldly ignored his gaze, he was crushed and ready to destroy himself and the whole world.”

Hitler the easily discouraged beta.

Hitler soon set Kubizek to discover everything he could about Stefanie. Her mother, it turned out, was a widow and they lived in nearby Urfahr, while her brother was a law student in Vienna.

Hitler the obsessed beta.

For those four years between the ages of 16 and 20, “for Adolf, no other woman but Stefanie existed”, since for him, “Stefanie embodied the whole of femininity”.

Hitler with crippling one-itis. If CH had been around then for Hitler to read, he would know that women are interchangeable, and he would not have wasted so much time on a girl who barely knew he existed.

This enthusiasm took the form of writing “countless love poems” to Stefanie, with titles such as Hymn To The Beloved.

Ugh. As you can see, even maniacal dictators with dreams of world conquest can fall into the same horrible beta traps as your typical weepy 21st century brooding teen boy with xVideos tabbed for convenience. If only Hitler had the compiled wisdom of CH, he would remember the maxim that you do not reward a woman with your love until after she has rewarded you with her sex.

Perhaps it is fortunate they no longer exist, as Kubizek recalls Hitler reciting one to him in which “Stefanie, a high-born damsel, in a dark blue, flowing velvet gown, rode on a white steed over the flowering meadows, her loose hair falling in golden waves on her shoulders; a clear blue sky was above; everything was pure, radiant joy.”

Kubizek remembered “Adolf?s face glowing with fervent ecstasy” as he recited these verses. Yet in all the four years he worshipped Stefanie, Hitler never once plucked up the courage actually to exchange a single word with her. He insisted that once he met her, no words would be needed.

The elaborate fantasy world of the lovesick beta male. You know, a part of me feels not just pity, but even tender admiration, for young Hitler’s romantic idealism, so pure of thought and intention. This was a Hitler, however misguided, who denied a cynical world its tribute in parcels of his uncorrupted soul. How might things have turned out differently had a strong male presence — an alpha male mentor — shown him the way to fulfill his burning desire? Or at least told him to stop acting like a tool?

“For such extraordinary human beings as himself and Stefanie,” he told Kubizek, “there was no need for the usual communication by word of mouth: extraordinary human beings would understand each other by intuition.” Moreover, Hitler convinced himself not only that Stefanie knew what his views and ideas were, but also that she shared them enthusiastically. Such was the power of his crush on this unwitting girl that he even believed her capable of telepathy.

The young beta, before time and painful lessons have turned him bitter, is prone to these flights of ego-soothing fancy, whereby amorphous “connections” of the most tenuous nature with his love object become rationalizations for inaction and unrealistic expectations of a future together.

When Kubizek expressed doubt that Hitler could possibly know what Stefanie thought about anything, considering they hadn’t yet spoken, “he became furious and shouted at me: ‘You simply don’t understand, because you can’t understand the true meaning of extraordinary love’.”

Can’t you just imagine an American teenage boy, with little understanding of the nature of women, saying these exact words to his street smart buddy, or his patient father?

Hitler also somehow convinced himself that Stefanie was feigning interest in other men “as a sort of deliberate diversion to conceal her own tempestuous feelings for him”.

Nonetheless, “this attitude often gave way to fits of raging jealousy”.

We’re veering into almost omega male territory here. Can a school shooting be far behind?

What he never summoned up the courage to do was simply introduce himself to Stefanie’s mother on one of their walks and ask permission to escort them and address her daughter, which was the accepted way of effecting a meeting in those days.

To be fair to Hitler, it was a lot tougher to pick up a girl in his time. Could you picture some video gamer bro having to introduce himself to a girl’s mother to get in a word with the girl?

Hitler was disturbed when he discovered Stefanie enjoyed dancing, which was “as contrary to his nature as smoking or drinking beer in a bar”. Kubizek half-jokingly suggested he take up dancing lessons, and suddenly their walks were no longer dominated by his long diatribes about the theatre or Danubian bridges, but instead by the subject of dancing.

“Visualise a crowded ballroom,” Hitler said to Kubizek, “and imagine you are deaf. You can’t hear the music to which these people are moving, and then take a look at their senseless progress, which leads nowhere. Aren’t these people raving mad?” When Kubizek attempted to disagree, Hitler screamed at him: “No, no, never! I shall never dance! Do you understand? Once Stefanie is my wife, she won’t have the slightest desire to dance!”

Here we see another facet of the beta male mind: The strict adherence to logic and linearity, and the inability to go with the flow. A great seducer of women Hitler was not, at least not then, or he would have known that the art of courtship involves emotional tangents that can seem confusing to men, but are nourishing and necessary to women.

It was in the depression brought on by the news of Stefanie’s love of dancing that the Hitler of the future can suddenly be discerned: “He hit upon a crazy idea: he seriously considered kidnapping Stefanie. He expounded his plan to me in all its details and assigned to me my role. I had to keep the mother engaged in conversation while he seized the girl.”

This is what rejected beta males thought about doing before they had access to internet porn.

After this plot was abandoned for lack of funds to live on after their elopement, Hitler considered suicide. “He would jump into the river from the Danube bridge,” he told Kubizek, “and then it would be over and done with. But Stefanie would have to die with him”, he insisted on that.

“Once more, a plan was thought up, in all its details. Every single phase of the horrifying tragedy was minutely described.”

What’s worse than a beta male? A beta male with a psychopath’s eye for detail.

However, before any desperate plan could be carried out against Stefanie, Hitler’s mood brightened. In June 1906, at the Linz flower festival, he and Kubizek took up places in a street, the Schmiedtorstrasse, which was so narrow, the festival carriages full of girls and young ladies had to pass close to them.

“Stefanie had adorned her carriage not with roses as most of the others, but with simple wild blossoms: red poppies, white marguerites and blue cornflowers,” recalled Kubizek. “A bright glance falls on Adolf. Stefanie sends him a beaming smile and, picking a flower from her posy, throws it to him.”

The effect on Hitler was transforming. “Never again did I see Adolf as happy as at that moment.”

“She loves me!” he told his friend. “You have seen! She loves me!”

This is how beta orbiters are born and maintained in their orbital flight paths. Stefanie probably wasn’t even aware of what she was doing; she was following an unconscious evolutionary script that maximized her extraction of emotional resources from a beta swooner.

[Hitler] had an absurdly idealised view of this pretty but otherwise normal Austrian teenager, and, as Kubizek understood, “the slightest divergence from this picture would have filled him with unspeakable disappointment”.

Now you know why the archipelago of misfit manboobs, male feminists, slam poets, game denialists, and suck-up white knights are so vehemently enraged when a realtalker like yours truly comes along to put the screws to their carefully mani-pedi’ed worldview. They have too much invested in their powerlessness.

In fact, it later transpired that, despite her surname, Stefanie was not Jewish. But crucially, Hitler and Kubizek did not know this at the time, signifying that the future perpetrator of the Holocaust had no animus against Jews as a young man.

Did he therefore cynically invent his hatred of Jews as a useful vehicle for gaining power in post-Great War Germany? This explanation is even more sinister than any of the myriad others as to where and when he contracted the bacillus of anti-Semitism.

Or perhaps, even more sinisterly, Hitler became the man he did when, as a young man in the grip of hot unrequited love, his Jewish princess “rejected” him for the charming alpha males Hitler despised. What followed from that irreparable wound to his heart was an act of id vengeance that would set fire to the world. Was WWI then, the revenge of a beta male scorned?

Chateau Heartiste has written that game can save the West. Disbelievers scoff. But if this outpost of sanity had been around during Hitler’s flowering youth to enlighten him about the nature of the fairer sex, the West might very well have been saved. Saved not just from war and genocide, but from every evil — cultural Marxism, feminism, equalism, and now racial self-annihilationism — that has come after.

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Chateau Heartiste was on top of noticing and alerting the public to this trend of feminizing men a long time ago. And now ♥science♥ is providing the ammunition for CH’s mighty Guns of Pattern Recognition.

During the past two decades, testosterone levels in American men have rapidly declined.

This information comes from a long-term prospective study that evaluated changes in serum testosterone on a population-wide basis.

The study was published in the Journal of Clinical Endocrinology and Metabolism.

“The interesting thing we discovered was that, on average, when we measured the testosterone in the blood of a 60-year-old in 1989 it was higher than that in a different 60-year-old measured in 1995,” said Thomas Travison, PhD, of the New England Research Institutes, Watertown, Mass. “We observed the same phenomenon over a wide range of ages.”

At baseline, the median serum testosterone level was 501 ng/d; at the first follow-up it was 435 ng/dL and at the second follow-up it was 391 ng/dL.

The estimated cross-sectional decline in total testosterone level was 0.4% per year of age (95% CI, –0.6% to –0.2%). The longitudinal within-person decline was about 1.6% per year (95% CI, –1.8% to –1.4%). The age-matched time trend was 1.2% lower per year (95% CI, –1.4% to –1.0%).

The decline was age-independent. “It is a little troubling,” Travison said. “The average differences are not very large, but they are big enough and occurring over a short enough time period to be the cause of some concern.”

These demonstrated population-level declines are greater than the cross-sectional declines typically associated with age, according to the researchers.

So American men really are becoming more physiologically pussified, emasculated, manboobed and womanish. And this hormonal change is expressing itself psychologically. Cf., John Scalzi.

The million milliliter question: Why?

“This population-level decline in testosterone concentrations in men is not explained fully by the usual suspects: increasing BMI and prevalence of obesity, certain other co-morbid conditions or decreasing incidence of smoking. Although the analysis by Travison et al did reveal significant age-related increases in adiposity and medication use and a welcome decline in smoking, the age-matched decline in testosterone concentrations persisted even after adjusting for these variables,” Shalender Bhasin, MD, of the section of endocrinology, diabetes, and nutrition, Boston University School of Medicine, wrote in an accompanying editorial.

He voiced concern over the decline and its public health impact on American men.

“This magnitude of change during such a short period is disquieting,” Bhasin wrote. “Although increasing adiposity and lifestyle factors that were recorded in the [Massachusetts Male Aging Study] could not account for the secular trends in testosterone level, it is possible that other lifestyle factors, such as increasing use of tight-fitting underwear, increasing room temperatures in American homes and offices during the past three decades, decreased physical activity with increased body mass indices and decreased smoking could have contributed to the declining testosterone levels in men.”

Answer: No one really knows.

May I humbly suggest some other possible causes for the scalzification of American men?

1. Aggro tankgrrls

When the land fills up with aggressively posturing, careerist feminist shrikes on the divorce court warpath, aided and abetted by Cathedral man-haters, the collective response by society’s testes is to ascend behind the sheltering bony plate of the pubis. You could call it the “Junk Tuck and Shuck” theory of increasing faggotry. How this works on a biochemical level is hard to pinpoint, but it makes some intuitive sense that as women gain more cultural power through their own means or a Big Daddy government check, men rationally respond by becoming either smooth talking cads or mewling beta suck-ups. Do women like this state of affairs? Probably not, but as long as men can get the pussy this way, that’s what they’ll give women. The sexual polarity will find its opposing balance, by whatever means necessary.

2. Estrogen in everything

Soy is in everything. So is the effluvium of the Pill. It seems we can’t go a week without some new study touching down with evidence of increased estrogen in our food and water supplies.

3. Lack of a cleansing war/too many men

A culture’s men get soft in the arms of materialist decadence. Never more so than today with so many hindbrain-targeted pleasure stimulators acquired for a relative pittance. Too many men accumulating from a lack of natural (or unnatural) culling means that, thanks to the cosmic directive of female hypergamy, a lot of dispensable, reproductively useless men are piling up. Combine the softness with the uselessness, and it’s a small leap to infer that the male sex would respond, at least at the margins, with a growing acceptance of testosterone-challenged and sexual marketplace-abstaining gayness, broniness, tranniness, and general supine self-flagellating leftoid-ness.

4. Dem friggin fat cows

Maybe male obesity can’t explain much of the trend toward lower T among men, but perhaps FEMALE obesity can explain it. What’s the point of manning up when all your women have womanned down? After all, you don’t have to be much of a man to jerk it to a digital dreamgirl. Fat chicks and porn everywhere have reduced the pressure to find a sexy babe to love, and testosterone levels have responded in kind. What doesn’t get used, atrophies.

There are three guaranteed means available to you, the big swinging CH reader, for battling this scourge of testosterone shrinkage.

– Lift weights
– Approach and hit on cute girls
– Avoid prostrating yourself at the feet of freaks and whiny grievance whores

That’s really all there is to it. And yet, America the Raisin-balled continues bursting with fruit cup flavor, an army of marching manboobs pegging themselves on the cock of feminism, taking orders from prissy, level 99 nancyboys ashamed of the impudence and pale hue of their own peek-a-boo micropeens.

I say screw that labially-wrapped lifestyle. Live loud, live proud, live turgidly aroused. Humiliate the buttercups. Slap your claymore against their tear-stained cheeks. And enjoy the howls of their crippled pain.

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This one comes from “Roger Rabbit”,

So you guys have your opinions and all.  Is this like a website just for trolling? What’s with all the anger? because i cant figure out who gives enough of a shit about fat chicks, omega males, or anything else presented here to create a whole site about it.  You don’t respond to anyone that challenges you with anything more than a fuck-off or “you must be a fat chick/omega male/feminist bitch” – take your pick.  Which is fine, that’s your right as the alpha male gorilla, chest-beating idiots you are.  But it’s so ridiculous I think it’s gotta be just a place for you to troll.  Are you actually like 12?  That’s rhetorical. By the way, I’m sure you already guessed it, but I am a 520 pound white chick with a dark mustache, slimy stinky cheese growing in my fat folds because I can’t bathe properly, hairy arms, legs, & pits because – well for obvious reasons.  I’m so pathetic I let my dog lick my cunt and clean the curdled scum nestled in my fat folds while I eat cheese puffs, smoke, and look at porn of gorgeous 18 year old girls I will never look like and can never have.  As a favor to you and everyone who knows me (that’s not many people) I think I will try to end my miserable existence later on tonight.  No thanks necessary.  I can imagine your appreciation even as I type.  Thank the good lord for survival of the fittest.  Oh before I die, I’d like to leave you with this idea – why not start fat camps but when us fatties get there, you shame us and over feed us and insult us while torturing our fat-asses in the most sadistic ways you can come up with.  Almost like concentration camps.  Instead of the gas chamber, lead us to a room promising a huge buffet, then force us to eat to death.  Keep up the good work on this site, encouraging all of us disgusting low-lifes in whatever form we take to off ourselves and therein paving the way for the rise of your super breed of men and women.  Better save a few of us though, just so you’ll have someone to kick around.

You ever notice how deeply unaware the equalist losers in life appear to be to their own psychological projection? It’s similar to how the first commenter to drop the n-word in a thread about a racially-charged news story is often a leftoid saying “Yeah, you wingnuts want to off the niggers and spics, just come out and say it.”  The id revealed, indeed.

For the record, “Roger Rabbit”, fatties and other assorted misfits who know their place aren’t the primary designated targets of CH’s very special lessons. It’s the loser apologists and degenerate freak mafia claiming the equal worth of medusas, monsters and manboobs who earn the privilege of serving as voodoo dolls to poke with pins and laugh at as they twist convulsively from searing psyche pain. Twisting which you have illustrated quite spectacularly here, for the sadistic pleasure of all reading.

So, yes, CH will continue making an example of you and your ilk to serve as a warning for the others who might get it in their heads to propagandize equalist bullshit that makes the world an uglier, fatter, gloomier place.

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