The Forager/Farmer Thesis Is Wrong

Robin Hanson has been beating the drum on his liberaltarian wet dream known as the forager/farmer thesis in a series of posts. Basically, “liberal” values and lifestyle are a reflection of humanity’s ancient forager (hunter-gatherer) ways, while “conservative”, or traditional, values and lifestyle are emergent properties of our relatively more recent 10,000 year old farmer (agricultural) heritage. Modern foragers in the form of cafe-loitering SWPLs sipping dragonwell tea and reading Dan Savage columns are essentially freeriding on the industrial and moral substrates that were created by rules-following and hierarchical farmer ancestors. Thanks to their comfy livings and safe environments, elite cosmopolitan liberals in Western societies are returning to the values and lifestyles of their distant forager forebears, while modern traditionalists hew to more rigid codes of conduct and warn them (in so many words) that all foraging and no farming makes Jack a weak boy. (You can see where this is heading.)

If you buy Hanson’s thesis, this neatly explains blue state vs red state, Obama vs Bush, open borders nuts vs immigration realists, and Apple vs Windows.

Hanson relies for much of his speculative evidence on the Sex At Dawn book, which I promiscuously manhandled here. But there’s too much wrong with the claims made by that book to sufficiently lend support to the Forager vs Farmer (i.e., liberal vs conservative) thesis of clashing values and lifestyles.

For instance, Hanson and Ryan elide the force of jealousy in shaping human sexual dynamics. If we were built for polyamory as Ryan claims, or free love promiscuity as Hanson says, then jealousy would not have evolved to the extent it did (among Euro-descended people at least) to become a powerfully ingrained emotional hindbrain response to infidelity or suspicions of cheating. Both men and women experience jealousy, though men seem to react more violently when in its throes, (as would be predicted by a “farmer” reading of sociosexuality, since men stand more to lose by a cheating lover).

In addition, just about every polyamorous, free love utopia/forager commune that has been tried in historical record has utterly failed, some of them spectacularly. (It’s no coincidence that most dedicated polyamorists are androgynous, middle-aged frumps.)

Hanson and Ryan claim foragers are/were nonviolent compared to farmers. But from everything I’ve read on the matter, that is wrong as well: modern hunter-gatherers have impressive levels of tribal violence, mostly of the raiding and randomly savage variety. Farmers are also capable of violence, but when they do it the violence is coordinated and planned; the random individual violence that typifies forager society isn’t a steady state feature of farmer existence. I’m not going to dig around for relevant links, so I’ll throw it open to the commenters to do the dirty work.

Finally, a big point of Hanson’s repackaged thesis is that “rich and safe” modern foragers — implicitly the intellectual and social liberal elites of Western society — pursue and advocate a promiscuous lifestyle. Except the data show that isn’t necessarily true. Higher IQ men place greater value on monogamy and sexual exclusivity and are less likely to cheat than lower IQ men.

There are too many holes in this tidy farmer/forager outlook to take it as anything more than United States of Canada porn for self-satisfied cosmopolitan lefties to jack their head hamsters off to. And I say this as someone who lives to the fullest the modern, promiscuous forager lifestyle. I know its personal appeal, and its immolating potential for the wider society.

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Anal Sex The New Technicality

(This post is dedicated to Geert Wilders in his fight against the forces of powerful leftist intellectuals intent on punishing him for the sin of speaking his mind on a subject that gives the leftie witch hunters the hives — namely, the capitulation of Europe to Islam. May he be victorious in his battle against these traitors not only to the West, but to their own classical liberal principles.)

Anal sex among women is up, way up. And not just anal sex; oral intimacy is up too.

Here’s the big story. In 1992, 16 percent of women aged 18-24 said they’d tried anal sex. Now 20 percent of women aged 18-19 say they’ve done it, and by ages 20-24, the number is 40 percent. In 1992, the highest percentage of women in any age group who admitted to anal sex was 33. In 2002, it was 35. Now it’s 46.

According to various bloggers around the web who routinely cite data from the General Social Survey (GSS) purporting to show that women are actually getting less slutty since the 1980s, this new data throws a monkey wrench into those prematurely ejaculated conclusions. If women are getting less slutty, how is it anal and oral sex are increasing among all age groups?

Well, it depends on how you define “slut”. I have previously contended that the GSS sex data cannot be fully trusted because 1) women (and to a lesser extent, men) have a deeply ingrained inclination to lie about matters concerning the most ego-wrapped delicate questions of sexual practice, and 2) women in particular are prone to dismissing acts of anal, oral and hand sex as instances of actual “sex”. Try to put yourself in the fuck-me pumps of a 22 year old virgin who is answering anonymous survey questions about her sex life.

How many men have you had sex with in the past five years?

GIRL: [thinking to herself] Well, there was Tommy, but he only did me in the ass, so that doesn’t count. Then there was Trent, but I only gave him blowjobs. I told him that I wanted to save myself for marriage. Then the asshole left me! And there was Brian, but except for a few BJs and a tug job behind the 7-11, I never gave it up to him. And…. let’s see, who else… oh yeah, Joe, Chris, some guy who called himself the Dude, Adam, Hoight, Anfernee… mostly anal, some mouth love. But I didn’t give my virginity to any of them. Yay me! So… I didn’t have sex with any men.

You can see where this is going.

In other words, the female rationalization hamster is shitting bite-sized pellets all over the GSS results. And now we have data publicized in the Journal of Sexual Medicine providing evidence for my “Hamster Skewed Sociosexuality Discrepancy” theory, in the form of rising anal and oral sex rates among previously reported less sexually-active women. Something’s not adding up among the numbers, and that something is women’s inability to correctly diagnose their own levels of sluttiness. Anal sex is the new technicality that lets women avoid the slut label while allowing them to experience the exquisite proxy pleasure of procreative sex.

To wit, as a man, are you going to give a “get out of the whorehouse free” card to a woman who is a vaginal virgin but has had a platoon of peckers up her bunghole? No, of course not.

Not only are more chicks trying anal sex, but the data show that more of them are sticking with the taboo pleasure.

The last time I looked at the anal sex data, I figured that most women who reported having done it meant they’d tried it just once. I was wrong. If you push these women beyond the “have you ever” question, the numbers stay surprisingly high, and they’re getting higher. In 1992, the percentage of women in their 20s and 30s who said they’d had anal sex in the past year was around 10 percent. Now that number has doubled to more than 20 percent, and one-third of these women say they’ve done it in the last month. Among all women surveyed, the number who reported anal sex in their most recent sexual encounter was 3 percent to 4 percent.

Most women love anal sex once they’ve tried it. I’m convinced there is a physiological connection between the anus/rectum area and the orgasmic zones of the pussy that accounts for the thrills women receive from ass love. There is also the dominance aspect of anal sex that is undoubtedly highly arousing to women; after all, what position is more degrading than bent over taking it up the poop chute? Degrading = tingles? No. Degrading = seismic snatch waves.

One of my fondest foreplay moments was when a (married) Russian chick (from Vladivostok, if that means anything to you Russophiles) stripped naked, turned around, and looking inquisitively over her shoulder, asked in the most pleasingly feminine voice, slightly accented: “Would you like to do me in the ass?” Naturally, I obliged. She squealed like a piglet that found a fresh mudhole… for me to plug up.

That’s a lot of butt sex. And remember, this is what women are reporting. If anything, they’re probably understating the truth.

You don’t say? Trying to get a straight answer from women about their sexual history is like getting cultured yuppies to admit the real reason why they moved to the suburbs once their kids were ready for public schooling.

So what’s with all the buggery? Is it brutality? Coercion? A porn-inspired male fantasy at women’s expense?

It’s none of those things and all of those things. Chicks dig the submissive posture. The pleasure of submitting, exemplified most conspicuously by presenting for rough anal intrusion, induces orgasms in women.

Apparently not. Check out the orgasm data. Among women who had vaginal sex in their last encounter, the percentage who said they reached orgasm was 65. Among those who received oral sex, it was 81. But among those who had anal sex, it was 94. Anal sex outscored cunnilingus. […]

What could explain this? Taboo thrill? Clitoral migration? Some new kind of vegetable oil?

Here’s my guess. Look carefully at Table 4, Pages 355-6. Only 6 percent of women who had anal sex in their last encounter did so in isolation. Eighty-six percent also had vaginal sex. Seventy-two percent also received oral sex. Thirty-one percent also had partnered masturbation. And the more sex acts a woman engaged in during the encounter, the more likely she was to report orgasm. These other activities are what gave the women their orgasms. The anal sex just came along for the ride.

So why did the inclusion of anal sex bump the orgasm figure up to 94 percent? It didn’t. The causality runs the other way. Women who were getting what they wanted were more likely to indulge their partners’ wishes. It wasn’t the anal sex that caused the orgasms. It was the orgasms that caused the anal sex.

I’m not sure about Saletan’s reading of the orgasm data. What percent of women had vaginal, oral or hand sex in isolation in their last encounter? Those numbers might be equally low. If it was true that a variety and increasing number of sex acts contributed to women’s reaching orgasm, then we would see women’s claims of reaching orgasm more evenly dispersed between the various sex acts. A woman who had anal, oral, hand and vaginal sex in one session would be just as likely to reach orgasm during any one of those acts. Instead, anal sex comes out on top, brown and stinky. The answer to why women reach orgasm with anal sex more often than other sexual practices is simpler than the reason given by Saletan — most chicks, and men too, don’t like the idea of sticking shit-covered cocks anywhere else than the butt. A2M porn fantasies to the contrary notwithstanding, the female ass is generally the last place men and women like to go after a long lovemaking session violating her less toxic orifices. Given that, it’s no surprise that later-to-orgasm chicks climax more often during the last sexual act than during the earlier acts. Furthermore, anal sex is in and of itself very pleasurable for women. It could also be that women simply have an easier time cumming with a dick shoved up their butt.

If anal sex is a trailing indicator of women’s sexual satisfaction, then by all means, let’s toast the new findings. Here’s to you, ladies. Bottoms up.

I remember reading an astounding sex survey figure in a book about human sexuality. I can’t recall the name of the book; I think it was something like “What Men Want, What Women Want”. It was published in the mid 90s. The author had data showing that the college football team quarterback at the University of Oklahoma had had 2,000 sexual partners over his four year college career.

I don’t know what made me think of that.

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HBD And PUA

AHE comments:

it is ironic the HBD movement is so closely associated with the Game o sphere.

on the one hand u have people arguing genes dont lie. on the other, people argue it isnt too hard to lie about your genes.

HBD (for those readers who aren’t yet familiar with the term) stands for “human biodiversity” and is a school of thought that acknowledges that humans differ genetically in character traits on the population group level as well as the individual level. It shares an underlying doctrine with PUA (pickup artistry) — namely, that evolutionary science can explain a lot about modern human behavior, whether ethnic, racial, or sexual. Thus, HBD and PUA are cross-linked on a foundational level. Perhaps the most notable difference is that practitioners in PUA, through the use of game, are candid about seeking to exploit the knowledge of generalizable human behavioral differences for personal fun and profit. HBD believers (which, in actuality, includes most of humanity, regardless of their claims to believing it or not) hide their true intentions behind an obfuscatory cloud of squid ink and evasion even as they rush to move to undiverse neighborhoods when their kids are old enough to go to school.

The difference between a PUA and the typical HBD follower: the PUA has the integrity to stand by his actions and not insult your intelligence.

But the web has released an unabashed HBD Kraken from its underwater lair, and this beast is not afraid to confront harsh realities without the whitewash of politesse and codewords. Unfortunately, in its zeal to smash pretty lies by the boatload, the movement tends to succumb to infatuation with its opposition theories. The faint whiff of immutable determinism swirls snugly like a straitjacket on the follower fringe. An impetus to categorize human interactions based on easily perceived objective traits hints at the nerd-lke systematizing mind trying to grasp the significance of the new and dangerous knowledge.

AHE’s comment is a perfect example of this, and similar to a lot of other anti-game comments floating around the HBD-sphere. His (her?) assertion that HBD is all about “genes don’t lie” betrays a newbie’s understanding of the science, or a liar’s facility with disingenuousness. No evolutionary scientist worth his salt would argue that genes are wholly deterministic, or that the environment plays no role in shaping who we are. What the HBD movement *does* argue is that, since the second half of the 20th century, the genetic explanation for human differences has gotten short shrift, while the environmental explanation — or “blank slate” paradigm — has been untouchable. HBD thus brings balance to the force by revealing the ugly truth that genes account for a lot more of who we are than is currently acknowledged by our ruling class cognoscenti. That this makes a lot of lying shitsacks uncomfortable is a doubleplusgood perk.

So AHE’s specious association between HBD and PUA beliefs is false. Game is not about lying about your genes, just as HBD is not about genes determining the totality of who you are.

AHE, and some others with HBD-themed blogs, claim that belief in game is like a belief in the blank slate — you can’t make an alpha out of an inborn beta. Genes über alles. What an out of tune pitch to make by some of our web’s best and brightest! Can no one improve his lot? Is a 90 IQ person incapable of learning anything? Should that dummy just hang it up as soon as he’s born and suckle through a feeding and drugging tube provided by his 120+ IQ elite caretakers?

Or, to put it in simpler terms, imagine two 90 IQ kids. One is dumped in an empty trailer park to fend for himself, separate from civilization, and the other is raised the normal way, up through high school where he earns a solid C average. Can anyone realistically say the former is going to possess the same knowledge base and the same power of reasoning as the latter? Yes, the average 90 IQ kid is not likely to achieve what the average 110 IQ kid will, but he can, through effort, maximize what he’s got.

In the same way, a natural born beta can work to maximize his attractiveness to women by learning and applying game. And we have the proof that it works, in the testimony of literally tens of thousands of men who have seen their success with women skyrocket after becoming acquainted with the principles and tactics of game. True, the beta with game may never reach the exalted heights of the natural born alpha, but he can improve his lay rate and the quality of women he dates.

Which brings us to a quirky observation of the HBD community: a number of HBD writers and commenters exhibit a curiously child-like lack of understanding of female nature, and what motivates women to make the decisions they do in the dating market. It’s a strange blindspot they have that is probably best explained by their nerdiness and their concomitant need to quantify male attractiveness based on readily observable traits and markers of a traditionalist coloration. Doubters like AHE can only see male worth in easily measurable metrics like looks, money, and material possessions. To them, no man who doesn’t have status along these metrics will see any success with “alpha mimicking” game.

But game alone is enough to attract women, regardless of the objectively measurable quantity of those other male attractiveness traits. As has been argued here before, GAME IS ITS OWN STATUS. Women are turned on by men with tight game as much as, or maybe more than, they are turned on by a man with good looks or a high powered job. Certainly the conventional measures are helpful to a man’s success with women, but they aren’t the whole story. Game itself is a turn-on for women, because game is a true, authentic manifestation of manly power. During the learning stage, some portions of game may be a “mimicking” of alpha traits, but once game is internalized it becomes as much a part of a man’s suite of powerful coolness as any other marker of male attractiveness. After all, a man gunning through law school to get a high paying job that is attractive to women is “mimicking” alpha traits — faking it till he makes it — just as much as the guy attending the university of game. That one route happens to be more efficient than the other for acquiring the love and sexual surrender of many women is no argument against its authenticity.

Furthermore, there is the matter of game being a positive indicator of desirable male traits in and of itself. The men who excel at game are signaling a high ability to learn and apply new concepts, and a fortitude to see a self-improvement project through to success. These characteristics — fortitude, open-mindedness, discipline, ambition — are attractive to women. Now some will say these traits are all genetically influenced, and that may be true, but if so it does not argue against game as an authentic signal of male fuckability.

So HBD nerds need to get over the obvious “money/looks/fame” box within which they argue and constrict themselves, and begin to see that, like human differences in general, there is room to remake ourselves into better versions of who we are. To deny this is to deny there is any reason to put forth effort into anything of note after birth. There is more than one way to pierce a pussy. Women love game-spitting charming assholes as much as they love resource-providing stoic captains of industry. There is no contradiction in this observation.

On a side note, betas having more kids than alphas is not necessarily evidence that they are better with women. Instead, all it could mean is that the betas are finally getting their shot at aging pussy after the alphas have had their fill of that same pussy when it was younger, hotter, tighter and uninterested in baby-making. Number of kids is a poor measure of alphaness in this hedonistic day and age.

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The Pill

“You’ve got to try one of these.”

“I don’t need that. I have the libido of a rutting buck.”

“Yeah, but this will supercharge you. Take a look at porn. All the male stars use it. A lot of the old timer porn stars — the greats like Ron Jeremy — complain that it ruins the artistry and exclusivity of their occupation, because now a bunch of no name punks off the street can stroll onto the set and jackhammer for hours. Thanks to this baby right here, there was a glut of cheap labor into the porn market, and asking prices for prized studs with real talent went way down.”

“That’s great, but I’m not doing porn.”

“You should always fuck like you’re being filmed for a porn scene. Seriously, compare 80s porn to today’s porn. Back then, there were all these cheesy repetitive edits done to the film. It was obvious when the same thrusting action was replayed two or three times in a row. That’s because these guys were banging au naturel. They couldn’t stay hard for day-long fuck sessions. And they didn’t have tremendous staying power either. So editors had to stretch out the scenes. It was an acknowledgement of the limits of male physiology. But now comes this — [Zeets waved the package in the air] — and all bets are off. Guys with no prior experience in the industry are hopping on set, hard as a flagstaff, and banging like champion studs, nonstop, until the girls are chafing and begging for it to be over. Don’t you want that kind of chafing power? This is how you fuck the whore right out of any girl you’re with.”

“What about side effects? I heard it causes vision loss.”

“Yeah, I read about that. Just don’t get addicted to it. Anyhow, that’s mostly a problem for old men. And believe me, nothing’s going to take this stuff off the market. The average old dude thinks to himself, gee, impotence or blindness?, and immediately chooses blindness, because as a man what’s the point of living if you have no sex life?”

“Irrefutable logic. All right, I’ll try one.”

“They’re ten bucks a pop, but since you’re a newb I’ll spot you on this first one.” Zeets dropped the blue pill in my hand. “Just enjoy it, man. You’ll never look back.” I could’ve sworn I caught Zeets rubbing his hands together. Was he my pusher?

Two hours before I was to meet a young girl I had been seeing, I swallowed the pill. She had an insatiable sexual appetite — it took her mere seconds of foreplay to get sloppy wet for penetration — and I doubted anything could tap her out, short of a 24 hour sex marathon that left her hole the consistency of sandpaper.

Nothing happened. As advertised, the pill doesn’t directly cause hard-ons; it simply allows hard-ons to last longer and stay harder once aroused. A girl was still required to jumpstart the process.

At her place, we fooled around for a bit and then undressed. As she slid my boxers down, she marveled at my rigidity — I was as hard as a teenager staring up his teacher’s skirt as she sat on her desk crossing and uncrossing her long legs. The head was pulsating.

“Wow, you’re ready to go!”

“Must be the free range eggs I ate this morning.”

I threw her onto the bed and yanked off her shorts and panties in one uninterrupted motion. Her furrow was boiling to the touch. I slid in easily and commenced the most intimate of intimacies.

I would not say the sensitivity was intensified. It felt as good as it alway does, no worse no better. But something was different. In the middle of a sweaty thrust, I looked up at the digital clock on her bedstand — 10:45. I had been fucking her straight for two hours and five minutes. Nonstop. Not even a break for a glass of water or to catch my breath. Except to switch positions, I was inside of her ransacking her womb for over two hours.

She came four times during those two hours. I hadn’t cum yet. The wonder pill not only let me stay rock hard with no let-up, it also delayed my money shot. As I rested on top of her, our greased chests pressed tightly together, she panted in my ear.

“Hooooooly moly.”

I pulled her to the edge of the bed, on her back, and fucked her while my thumbs pried open her labia for an exciting visual. Her vulva was inflamed a deep angry red. Her slick pussy juice had catalyzed into dry, waxy, white pellets from my repeated endless thrustings, and were falling out of her pussy like an army of ovum. The chafing had begun.

“Phew, wait, I need a second.”

I stopped and lay beside her for a few minutes. My boner never went down.

“Ok, I’m ready.”

We resumed, and I focused on shooting my wad. Usually, this is best done in the primo animalistic position — doggy style. Finally, two hours and twenty-five minutes later, I blew. Five minutes after that, I was chubbing out again.

I didn’t know how long the effects lasted, but I found out. We slept in; late the next morning I poked her in the ass crevice with my morning wood. Hard as the night before. I was still under the influence. Another hour of fucking and I had to stop; my dick was beginning to glow like an irradiated blood sausage.

We left the humid confines of her place and went for brunch. Under the bright sunshine, she stumbled a bit while walking. She spoke haltingly, her head lolling around lazily on her neck. The pill is a game changer. A marriage saver, and a marriage destroyer. A pot of gold, and a poison apple.

I swore to myself never to take it again.

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Why You Should Leave After Sex

Because it will signal your high male mate status:

Chapter 5, “Green-Eyed Desire: From Guarding a Mate to Trading Up,” deals with other economic constraints relating to the human mating market. Women appear to use sex to help guard male mates by keeping them satisfied, reminding men what they stand to lose should they defect—or as many women in the study put it, “keep[ing] his mind off other women.” Women also seem to be motivated to sometimes have sex with other men as a way of gaining information about their mate value or to obtain a better partner—i.e., to “trade-up” in the mating market. Attracting a high-quality mate can allow a woman to enhance and evaluate her mate value, and many women cited this as a reason to have sex. The authors refer to research showing that women do this more often around ovulation.

So what does this have to do with leaving a woman’s company soon after sex? Much can be inferred from the study results in the quote above. For instance, if women use sex to keep a mate satisfied and his mind off chasing other women, then a hasty post-coitus skedaddle undermines her mate guarding efforts; she will be compelled to try even harder in the sack next time. And as I’ve noted before, a solid, healthy relationship rests on a foundation of the woman chasing the man. The day your woman succeeds at guarding you is the day you begin the slide into betahood, infrequent sex, cuckoldry, and eventual breakup.

More importantly, since women sometimes use sex with new men to enhance and evaluate their own mate value, a calculated quick departure after sex will disrupt her self-evaluative process, leading her to conclude that she isn’t as hot as she thought (which is exactly what you want her to think). While landing a charming SOB like yourself for sex will boost a girl’s ego, persuading you to linger afterward to cuddle will send her ego straight into the stratosphere. Since American women’s egos are already in the stratosphere, theirs will get propelled into distant galaxies. It’s critical that you keep a woman’s ego in check if you want to enjoy years of blissful love and sexual release.

This study, and its implications, confirms my everyday experiences. I have noticed that when I leave a chick right after sex — either directly by walking out or indirectly by nudging her out — she will text or call like a woman in love the very next day, or even later that night. The post-coitus premature exit (PCPE) is especially powerful when executed at two in the morning.

If you are at her place, many times a girl will invite you to stay for the night. She’ll couch it in plausibly deniable terms, such as “You’re welcome to stay if it’s too late for you to grab a taxi now.” If you need an excuse to drop a PCPE, just tell her you have to get up early for a business trip. If you and her are at your place instead, assume the PCPE by announcing soon after sex that you’ll be happy to walk her to her car or her home, and that she must be looking forward to sleeping in her own bed.

Whatever you do, avoid the post-coitus cuddle with a new girl who is above the average quality of girls you normally get. If you’ve had the good fortune, or expertise, to bag yourself the female equivalent of a 12 point buck, you don’t want to ruin your established high mate value and budding relationship momentum by snuggling and squeezing her tight as if she were your childhood security blanket. Post-sex cuddling is like a chemical reaction which drains your testosterone by the minute. Intimate cuddling will convince a girl to give herself high marks on her self-evaluation, and once she’s done this the odds she will see you as a worthy mate for the long haul — sexual or otherwise – drop precipitously. It’s all done on the subconscious level of course, but that’s the level that is most dangerous, since it operates by flying under the radar of our conscious perimeter defenses.

Looking at all my flings, one night stands, and relationships, the ones where I rolled over after sex and gave the girl my back, or where I got out of bed and put on my clothes to go home, were the ones I was in complete command of the direction of the romance. I never had to initiate texts or phone calls, or come up with date ideas, with those girls; they did all the legwork.

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The Greatest Job In The World (For A Man)

What would be your criteria for the greatest job a man could have in the world? I’ll list what I think should be your criteria:

1. Continual exposure to a variety of young, pretty, naked women
2. Willingness of a significant subset of those young, pretty women to sleep with you
3. An occupational dynamic that requires leadership skills in the form of ordering young, pretty women to do your bidding
4. Very little competition from other men in the field, or on the job
5. Relatively high pay
6. Relatively high status
7. Minimal amount of rote work
8. Maximal amount of fun and creativity
9. Lots of travel to exotic and charming locations around the globe
10. Plenty of opportunity to discreetly cheat, if married or otherwise committed

Is there a man alive with working testicles who wouldn’t agree with my description of the perfect male job? No, I bet not.

So what is the greatest job in the world?

Meet Richard Kern.

Kern has been taking photographs of attractive naked women for 25 years in countries around the world. Young women in various states of undress. Naked women in pools. Naked women in showers. Naked women smoking pot. Naked women combing their hair. Naked women on all fours scrubbing the floor. And, presumably, naked women sucking his dick after work hours.

I know what you’re thinking. Kern is not gay. He’s married to a hot chick more than half his age. Kern is in his 50s, but he looks younger and, more importantly for men interested in picking up younger women, he *acts* like a man half his age. His is a life of unrelenting joy and exquisite pleasure. If there is a heaven on earth, Kern has found it. When asked if he has slept with any of his subjects, he is not coy, admitting that he’s had a number of sexual relationships with the ladies he photographs.

Surprisingly, Kern does a lot of his shooting with a pocket digital camera. He prefers capturing in voyeuristic style the natural beauty of the girl-next-door, the kind of girl you most want to despoil. Kern is almost clinical about the sexuality of his subjects that infuses his work, going on for impressive lengths about the shape, size, color and texture of the great megafauna of breastessesss constantly bouncing in front of his camera lens. Reminds me of someone else.

Some may wonder if it’s Kern’s job that attracts the girls, or if the job is merely incidental to Kern’s seductive alphaness. It’s more the latter, but no doubt photography, and the men skilled at it, are especially attractive to women, probably for the reason that any visual-based skill or artistry, being primarily the domain of maleness, is naturally intriguing to the visuo-spatially challenged sex. But that is a minor effect. The status of Kern’s job, and his status within the field, is the predominant attractor when we separate his personality from his achievements. Men who excel in female-oriented fields are also very attractive to women.

I bet you’re curious about Kern’s wife. I was. So I found this illuminating documentary video of Kern and Martynka. It’s short, about 11 minutes. You should watch the whole thing. It is 11 minutes demonstrating the power of pure game. What comes out of the video is just what a natural player Kern is, and the classic seduction and alpha male dynamics which hold powerful sway over the pretty Martynka’s emotional fidelity to her husband.

Some choice quotes:

Interviewer: Do you ever get jealous?

Martynka: No, I actually… it’s a weird thing… but it turns me on that he’s like shooting 18 year old hot girls. I find it exciting. I don’t get bored of him in that sense, because… I know it sounds weird but I actually thinks it’s cool he’s out, hanging out with like some 18 year old girl in her bedroom, showing him her tits, and um, it keeps things exciting for me, cause that little bit of jealousy makes my obsession last longer.

You don’t say!

I remember when I wrote that “women want you to cheat” post it engendered howls of indignation from my many female commenters. Oh, how you say… what was it again?…. oh yah…

Watch what women do, don’t listen to what they say.

What about the proposal? Certainly an inveterate and experienced womanizer like Kern would know better than to drop to one knee and beg for indentured servitude. Does Richard Kern follow my advice and propose to Martynka like an alpha male? Does a herb load in his pants?

Interviewer: So you guys got married in June. Was the proposal special, was it kind of romantic?

Martynka: It was very Richard style.

Interviewer: What was it?

Martynka: He didn’t really propose. But it was really cute. Cause he was so nervous about it.

Interviewer: So he kind of proposed but didn’t propose?

Martynka: No, he didn’t even say what it is.

[Scene switch]

Interviewer: Tell me about when you proposed to Martynka?

Richard: Oh, um, I couldn’t actually say the words that you have to say to do that, and, um…

Interviewer: Will you marry me?

Richard: Yeah. So, I, um, I didn’t have a birthday present for us, see, and I knew she had to get married to get a green card, so I tried to pass it off as my birthday present.

Interviewer: She said it took like 45 minutes to understand what you were asking.

Richard: Yeah, I never actually said it. [Ed: Richard almost sounds proud of this. Ha!]

But this was my favorite Kern-ism:

Richard: I’m fine with being married as long as I don’t have to talk about it, or acknowledge it.

Talk about a cunt-wetting frame.

By the way, Kern stole Martynka away from her much younger boyfriend. As the internet nerd herd might say: THIS.

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Sexual Experience Is Overrated

For women, that is. Men can never have too much sexual experience.

The following conversation I had with Silverback in the City Zeets will explain why.

~~~

Zeets: I’m pretty sure she’s only been with one other guy her whole life.

Me: Is she a virgin?

Zeets: Not a virgin… technically. But emotionally she may as well be. She has almost no experience with men.

Me: Hard to believe there are women like her outside of rural areas still in existence.

Zeets: She’s a foreigner from [a less developed European country].

Me: Bingo.

Zeets: The first time, she didn’t know what she was doing. It’s like I was back in high school. I tried to maneuver for the kill shot, but she kept her legs shut tight. I had to physically pry them apart. As I’m inching in, she’s squeaking like a mouse. “Ow ow ow”, she’s saying. I’m like, “Uh, ok, you’ve gotta relax here, otherwise this isn’t going to work.”

Me: Then what?

Zeets: Then she’s telling me to close all the blinds and blow out the candles. She likes the room pitch black. I guess it was because she was uncomfortable with me seeing her naked body in the lights. She’s got the bedsheets pulled right up to her chin.

Me: But she has a nice body. Doesn’t she know that?

Zeets: I know, tell me about it, but remember this girl is like a teenager fumbling around in the back seat of a car. She’s self-conscious. She doesn’t know what the fuck she’s doing. Eventually, we did do it, but it wasn’t good. She was too uptight, barely moved at all, and the endless foreplay pooped me out.

Me: That was over a month ago. You’re still with her.

Zeets: Yeah, we’ve done it a few more times since then. I was worried that she might have a weird psychological hangup about sex… maybe a religious thing?… but then it started getting better. She listened to my instructions, and followed orders well. Sex got better. She really loosened up.

Me: She got comfortable with you.

Zeets: Now she’s presenting like a red-assed chimp. She is truly loving in bed, totally getting into it. Sex has gotten even better with her than with some other women who knew what they were doing on the first date. Still need to work on proper blowjob technique, though.

~~~

Sluts may know what they’re doing the first time without much prompting from you, but sexually inexperienced girls who have been allowed to blossom into full, exuberant womanhood under your caring tutelage and by your steady temperament are the true prize, the holy grail.

It is a myth that sexually inexperienced girls are sexually repressed girls. Some are, but most of them are simply choosier than their sluttier sisters. It is more fulfilling to have a girl release with you, than to have her come pre-released by a battalion of men before you.

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