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Archive for the ‘Ugly Truths’ Category

CH answered this post title’s question already in the seminal “Dating Market Value for Women” at-home quiz, and in this post defining the qualifications of the “alpha female”, but feminists and male feminists continue to insist against the bleedingly obvious real world evidence that men desire smarts in women over and above all other mate value considerations. For instance, the latest garbage study purporting a strong male desire for female IQ is about as flawed as a self-report sex survey can get.

Instead of writing a draining exegesis on why smarts don’t matter much to women’s romantic fortunes —

executive summary: a woman’s IQ has little impact on her short- OR long-term desirability to men unless she’s beyond the comfort zone of intelligence compatibility with the man she’s dating; i.e. around 15 or more IQ points above or below the man’s IQ

— I’ll just reprint a Telegraph commenter’s witty response on the topic.

awesome research – it validates the view that porn has no future on the internet

So much feminist-friendly “””research””” has upon later inspection turned out to traffic in horribly flawed premises and methodology that it’s a good bet to prejudice any social science study issuing from an Anglo university with at least one Scandinavian- or Eskimo-sounding female name in the author list as worthless.

UPDATE

Commenter Arbiter does the hard work debunking this feminist study that I wasn’t willing to do.

All right, let’s take apart the Telegraph article:

1. Journalist Sarah Knapton has talked to a Professor David Bainbridge. So you would expect some strong scientific research to back up his claim, right? No. “Surveys have shown time and time again that this is the first thing that men look for.” You don’t even get to see the surveys. Nor do you get any mention of the fact that what people say in a survey doesn’t mean it’s true, especially not in a leftist climate that pressures them to ignore nature.

2. Bainbridge sets up a strawman to attack: it’s “large breasts and long legs” vs. intelligence. This is even in the title. He knocks large knockers by saying it’s not big breasts men want but symmetrical breasts, and he knocks long legs by saying it is straight legs men want, not long ones.

Ergo, men value intelligence instead of looks! Right? If you ignore the little fact that he just mentioned physical traits that men desire: symmetrical breasts and legs that are not crooked.

Far down in the article we also get this: “However men do like women to be curvaceous with voluptuous thighs and bottoms, and a waist that is much slimmer than their hips..” So the “men really look for intelligence, not beauty” theme that the article starts with is nonsense, even by the writer’s own admission. But this comes far down in the story.

3. The real “proof” to grab people’s attention is George Clooney. The article begins with a picture of him and Lebanese wifey Amal Alamuddin. Sarah Knapton writes under the picture: “Despite dating a string of attractive women George Clooney settled down with human rights barrister Amal Alamuddin”. They are mentioned again farther down in the article, and Alamuddin’s picture appears again.

No longer do you need to study thousands of people, you only need to look at one person’s choice. If you are the science editor at The Telegraph.

But not even this one example proves anything: Alamuddin doesn’t look bad for her age. She also no doubt shares Clooney’s socialist preferences, and his anti-White ideology served well by marrying a non-White. So looks, check, and compatible personalities, check. Furthermore, that she is a “human rights barrister” doesn’t mean she would be brimming with intelligence for Clooney to lust for. Probably she just has enough intelligence to be close to him on the scale.

Alamuddin is one of the worst exhibits the feminists could use to buttress their “men love SMRT women!” psychological projection. She’s hotter than 90% of women her age. And, lest the fact escape anyone, she’s also 17? years younger than Clooney.

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Ah, dat jerkboy charisma. Chicks dig it. If you’ve been a regular guest of the Chateau, you’ll know why chicks dig jerks, and you’ll know why cultivating your inner jerkboy is a pillar of Game teachings.

For a long time, CH was out there, a retreat in the deep wood willing to preach the Rude Word to any lost and yearning soul stumbling along the stony path leading to the ancient oak doors. Few knew of our secretive hideaway, fewer still could grasp the revolutionary nature of our message.

But our mischievous proselytizing has finally breached the sound barrier of the mainstream information gatekeepers (and from the reaction to their first line of defense crumbling, they don’t like it). As one reader who forwarded the following article wrote,

The substance of this article will present no surprises.  The tone of the author, apologetic and disturbed by the findings, will also present no surprises.

Not at all. The Atlantic is the latest Hivemind organ to hate itself for falling in love with Le Chateau.

Why It Pays to Be a Jerk

New research confirms what they say about nice guys.

The suspense is killing me! I hope it lasts.

At the University of Amsterdam, researchers have found that semi-obnoxious behavior not only can make a person seem more powerful, but can make them more powerful, period. The same goes for overconfidence. Act like you’re the smartest person [ed: or sexiest man] in the room, a series of striking studies demonstrates, and you’ll up your chances of running the show.

The Atlantic agrees with CH that overconfidence is the heart of game.

People will even pay to be treated shabbily: snobbish, condescending salespeople at luxury retailers extract more money from shoppers than their more agreeable counterparts do.

Seduction is the art of selling yourself to women. And just as it is in the realm of business sales, snobbish, entitled jerkboys are the most successful at selling their promise of pleasures to women.

“We believe we want people who are modest, authentic, and all the things we rate positively” to be our leaders, says Jeffrey Pfeffer, a business professor at Stanford. “But we find it’s all the things we rate negatively”—like immodesty—“that are the best predictors of higher salaries or getting chosen for a leadership position.”

Humans aren’t a rational species; they’re a rationalizing species.

“What happens if you put a python and a chicken in a cage together?,” Pfeffer asked him. The former student looked lost. “Does the python ask what kind of chicken it is? No. The python eats the chicken.”

“You’re like a big bear with claws and with fangs…and she’s just like this little bunny, who’s just kinda cowering in the corner.”

But, careful… all jerk and no softie makes Jack a d-bag.

In Grant’s framework, the mentor in this story would be classified as a “taker,” which brings us to a major complexity in his findings. Givers dominate not only the top of the success ladder but the bottom, too, precisely because they risk exploitation by takers.

All well and good. You can’t expect to lord it over all the people all the time without attention given to your reception. However… if you HAD to choose between being a niceguy and a 24/7 asshole…

ALWAYS CHOOSE ASSHOLE. To wit:

Consider the following two scenes. In the first, a man takes a seat at an outdoor café in Amsterdam, carefully examines the menu before returning it to its holder, and lights a cigarette. When the waiter arrives to take his order, he looks up and nods hello. “May I have a vegetarian sandwich and a sweet coffee, please?” he asks. “Thank you.”

In the second, the same man takes the same seat at the same outdoor café in Amsterdam. He puts his feet up on an adjoining seat, taps his cigarette ashes onto the ground, and doesn’t bother putting the menu back into its holder. “Uh, bring me a vegetarian sandwich and a sweet coffee,” he grunts, staring past the waiter into space. He crushes the cigarette under his shoe.

Dutch researchers staged and filmed each scene as part of a 2011 study designed to examine “norm violations.” Research stretching back to at least 1972 had shown that power corrupts, or at least disinhibits. High-powered people are more likely to take an extra cookie from a common plate, chew with their mouths open, spread crumbs, stereotype, patronize, interrupt, ignore the feelings of others, invade their personal space, and claim credit for their contributions. “But we also thought it could be the other way around,” Gerben van Kleef, the study’s lead author, told me. He wanted to know whether breaking rules could help people ascend to power in the first place.

Yes, he found. The norm-violating version of the man in the video was, in the eyes of viewers, more likely to wield power than his politer self. And in a series of follow-up studies involving different pairs of videos, participants, responding to prompts, made statements such as “I would like this person as my boss” and “I would give this person a promotion.”

“I would open my legs for this jerk.”

Ok, if being a jerkboy is so personally rewarding, the inevitable question follows,

Instead of asking why some people bully or violate norms, researchers are asking: Why doesn’t everyone? […]

“That’s a complexity of humans,” Faris says: it was not until after the human-chimpanzee split that Homo sapiens developed a newer, uniquely human path to power. Scholars call it “prestige.”

There are different kinds of ways to project power (and consequently arouse women). “Prestige” is better-known to students of Game as Demonstrating Higher Value.

The Atlantic even goes so far to wonder if the Game axiom “Fake it till you create it” is a real thing:

I did wonder, though: Could the apprentice actors [tasked with acting irrationally confident], given enough time, come to inhabit their roles more fully? Anderson noted that self-delusion among his study’s participants could have been the product of earlier behaviors. “Maybe they faked it until they made it and that became them.” We are what we repeatedly do, as Aristotle observed.

Ripped from the Chateau headlines.

In fact, it’s easy to see how an initial advantage derived from a lack of self-awareness, or from a deliberate attempt to fake competence, or from a variety of other, similar heelish behaviors could become permanent. Once a hierarchy emerges, the literature shows, people tend to construct after-the-fact rationalizations about why those in charge should be in charge.

“Once a woman falls hard for a charming jerkboy, she tends to construct after-the-fact rationalizations about why the jerk she loves should be her soulmate.”

Likewise, the experience of power leads people to exhibit yet more power-signaling behaviors (displaying aggressive body language, taking extra cookies from the common plate).

Success with women breeds more success with women.

It is possible, of course, to reframe Anderson’s conclusions so that, for instance, initiative is itself a competence, in which case groups would be selecting their leaders more rationally than he supposes. But is a loudmouth the same thing as a leader?

aka the “bustamove” theory of Game.

So what is that special sauce that jerkboys have which flavors a woman’s life? Or anyone’s life?

When I thought about whether I had friends or associates who fit Aaron James’s definition of an asshole, I could come up with two. I couldn’t pinpoint why I spent time with them, other than the fact that life seemed larger, grander—like the world was a little more at your feet—when they were around.

“I want more LIFE, fucker!”

Then I thought of the water skis.

Some friends had rented a powerboat. We had already taken it out on the water when someone remarked, above the engine noise, that it was too bad we didn’t have any water skis. That would have been fun.

Within a few minutes, an acquaintance I will call Jordan had the boat pulled up to a dock where a boy of maybe 8 or 9 was alone. Do you have any water skis?

The boy seemed unprepared for the question. Not really, he said. There might be some in storage, but only his parents would know. Well, would you be a champ and run back to the house and ask them? The boy did not look like he wanted to. But he did.

The rest of us in the boat shared the boy’s astonishment (Who asks that sort of question?), his reluctance to turn a nominally polite encounter into a disagreeable one, and perhaps the same paralysis: no one said anything to stop the exchange. But that’s the thing. Spend time with the Jordans of the world and you’re apt to get things you are not entitled to—the choice table at the overbooked restaurant, the courtside tickets you’d never ask for yourself—without ever having to be the bad guy. The transgression was Jordan’s. The spoils were the group’s.

The transgression is the jerkboy’s. The romantic spoils are the women’s.

Isolating the effects of taker behavior on group welfare is exactly what van Kleef, the Dutch social psychologist, and fellow researchers set out to do in their coffee-pot study of 2012.

At first blush, the study seems simple. Two people are told a cover story about a task they’re going to perform. One of them—a male confederate used in each pair throughout the study—steals coffee from a pot on a researcher’s desk. What effect does his stealing have on the other person’s willingness to put him in charge?

The answer: It depends. If he simply steals one cup of coffee for himself, his power affordance shrinks slightly. If, on the other hand, he steals the pot and pours cups for himself and the other person, his power affordance spikes sharply. People want this man as their leader.

Women want to join a jerk’s world because they want to be taken on a mutually satisfying adventure.

I related this to Adam Grant. “What about the person who gets resources for the group without stealing coffee?” he asked. “That’s a comparison I would like to see.”

It was a comparison, actually, that van Kleef had run. When the man did just that—poured coffee for the other person without stealing it—his ratings collapsed. Massively. He became less suited for leadership, in the eyes of others, than any other version of himself.

If you’re nothing but a niceguy, people will come to despise you because you will be giving away your generosity as if it was worthless.

[C]ould rudeness cause other people to open their wallets too?

The answer was a qualified yes. When it came to “aspirational” brands like Gucci, Burberry, and Louis Vuitton, participants were willing to pay more in a scenario in which they felt rejected. But the qualifications were major. A customer had to feel a longing for the brand, and if the salesperson did not look the image the brand was trying to project, condescension backfired. For mass-market retailers like the Gap, American Eagle, and H&M, rejection backfired regardless.

This qualification exists in the field of pickup too. Acting like an egotistic jerk while hitting on fatties projects an incongruence. Hotties will scorn you, and the fatties will feel even more “devalidated” than they did before you leveled your very special attention on them. Interestingly, this aspect of jerkitude verifies the game technique of peacocking. If you stand out in a little way from the crowd of betas, your jerky charisma will be better received because you’ll be projecting a “brand image” of a man who breaks norms.

Luxury retail is a very specific realm. But the study also points toward a bigger and more general qualification of the advantage to being a jerk: should something go wrong, jerks don’t have a reserve of goodwill to fall back on.

This is why you’ve gotta mix up your jerkballs with some slow pitches, especially if you want a long-term relationship with a girl. A jerkboy can keep a woman spinning in a dizzying drama orbit for a long time, but eventually, should a major fault line erupt, she’ll come back down to earth, and if you haven’t provided at least a little padding for her landing the crash could be spectacular.

([Being a jerk] is also marginally more likely to fail you, several studies suggest, if you’re a woman.)

Contrary popular but embittered feminist belief, men don’t dig bitches (unless they’re smoking hot).

Yet in at least three situations, a touch of jerkiness can be helpful. […] The third—not fully explored here, but worth mentioning—is when the group’s survival is in question, speed is essential, and a paralyzing existential doubt is in the air.

Jerkitude is really helpful to your game right at that precarious decision-making point of your first meeting with a girl. When she’s wondering if you’re an interesting man she’d like to get to know is when being a jerk will nudge her in the direction of wanting more of you.

But can you become the jerk women love? There’s an anecdote in the article about an entrepreneur whose life changed after he joined the Marine Corp. His time in the Marines made him more aggressive. He learned how “to go from 15 to 95 real quick”. He did this so often that his personality permanently changed to a new, jerky valence, and it carried over later into business success.

Learning to become a jerk is just like learning Game,

Without that kind of modulation—without getting a little outside our comfort zone, at least some of the time—we’re all probably less likely to reach our goals, whether we’re prickly or pleasant by disposition.

You have to get outside your comfort zone. Not a lot. Just a little push against your comfy boundaries is enough to mold you into a better man.

He believes that the most effective people are “disagreeable givers”—that is, people willing to use thorny behavior to further the well-being and success of others.

No man is a jerk store unto himself. Speaking of “disagreeable givers”, that appellation fits a lot of natural players I’ve known. They are rude and shocking and arrogant, but are also sometimes surprisingly generous, and the recipients of the jerks’ generosity value it so much more than they would from a niceguy because they are preconditioned to assume the jerk had to sacrifice a lot more “character capital” to be generous with them. It’s like getting a pat on the back from the CEO versus getting slavish praise from the mailroom grunt.

Smile at the customer. Take the initiative. Tweak a few rules. Steal cookies for your colleagues. Don’t puncture the impression that you know what you’re doing. Let the other person fill the silence. Get comfortable with discomfort. Don’t privilege your own feelings. Ask who you’re really protecting. Be tough and humane. Challenge ideas, not the people who hold them. Don’t be a slave to type.

Game 101.

And above all, don’t affix nasty, scatological labels to people.

I dunno about this one. I’ve found that girls love my occasional streaks of sadistic cruelty. Ever play the “marry fuck kill” game with a girl you’ve just met?

It’s a jerk move.

And…

wait for it…

chicks dig it!

(this post was very meta-jerk.)

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The Thirst is a Red Pillian term for sex-starved beta and omega males who fawn, notably online, over LSMV (low sexual market value) women, artificially inflating the self-perceived price of those women.

The enfant realtalkers who decry The Thirst on grounds of making their romantic journeys more perilous consider themselves enlightened to the bitter realities of the sexual marketplace. As a working theory for how the sexes interact sociosexually, the notion of The Thirst is more right than wrong. Women are, reproductively, the more valuable sex (during their youthful primes), and this inherent, biologically grounded sex value skew translates into all sorts of organic, cognitively discordant social phenomena, such as the factual observation that the average early 20s girl receives a lot more unwarranted sexual attention than the average man receives warranted sexual attention of any age.

Upon closer inspection, though, The Thirst falls short of a truly 360º panoramic view of the sexual market. I’ll explain its shortcomings as a Guide For The Good Life, and why I’ve come to see loudmouthed publicists for the SMV-bending beaver magic of The Thirst as little different than their distaff doppelgängers, the “Dick is abundant and low value” feminist crank trolls.

Why a Theory of The Thirst is flawed

1. Low value women don’t get sex (or, especially, love) as easily as prettier women.

Aggro MGTOWs find this hard to believe, but it’s true. Real life, and studies, clearly show that the uglier, older, and/or fatter the woman, the more time she’s gonna spend in involuntary celibacy purgatory. Granted, a LSMV woman won’t serve quite as long an incel sentence as a LSMV man, but she will serve some time before a sufficiently LSMV dick falls in her lap pretending to love her. If she’s lucky.

Have you ever noticed that one girl in your social group who has a history of showing up to parties or happy hours alone? She’s often representative of one of two kinds of girls: The sexy slutty ingenue who plays the field (usually by free choice that she comes to regret later), and the homely girl everyone feels sorry for. Why do we feel sorry for the latter and not the former? Because we know, in our subconscious moral calculus, that the homely girl is sexually isolated through no fault of her own. Unless she’s fat. In which case, we feel pity, which is a form of contempt.

2. Women don’t value sexual attention as much as men value it.

What happens when you expect to receive a certain type of social reward? You value that social reward less when, predictably, you get it.

So it goes with women, even the less attractive ones. Spreading their legs for a horndog who won’t call them the next day is no accomplishment for most women with working ovaries. (Say it with me: Eggs are expensive, sperm is cheap.) Despite the phony crowing of pump&dumped bitterbitches, sex is simply not something that, by itself, pumps women full of pride and happiness like sexual conquest does men. Men who claim otherwise are projecting their own desire for sexual attention onto women. (Projection… it’s not just a woman thing!)

So The Thirst is not blowing up the egos of fat/ugly chicks as much as its resentful advocates fervently believe.

Yes, a constant barrage of online flattery, no matter the quality of the sources or the wit of the pitch, will, in time and for short duration bursts, play head games with fug girls who get zero likewise attention offline. Yes, some of these fugs may temporarily come to perceive themselves, unreasonably, as more attractive to high value avatars men than they are in fleshy reality. But they will quickly be disabused of their false pride the second they step out the door and once again notice all the men walking past them as if they were invisible. So whatever ego-boosting ASCII effect The Thirst exerts on a fug, it evaporates the moment she enters the field where the plunger splits the ho.

3. Women instinctively know online male flattery is a low investment, mass targeting strategy worth absolutely nothing.

When a fatty gets propositioned by the 200th random pussy solicitor channeling Lord Byron… you dtf?… you really think she takes that sexual come-on to the id bank as a deposit put toward her accumulating romantic worth account?

Yeah, sure, if cornered by a sadistic interlocutor, she’ll lie and brag about all the love thrown her way on Tinder, but in the quiet of her thoughts she’ll know the flattery is as empty as her ice cream bucket.

4. Sexual attention is worse than being ignored when it’s from depressingly low value men.

If The Thirst was such an all-powerful force for NB1 ego inflation, why do the unattractive girls who receive cat calls, on- or offline, from the dregs of malehood feel worse for the flattery?

As a man about town, you likely know the same feeling. Dressed to the nines, confidence sky high, charm dialed in, prêt-a-poon slay, a chubby plain girl approaches you and smiles, introducing herself as someone very interested in getting to know you. All at once, the air is let out of your scrotal balloon. The weaker sort of men who experience this unfortunate courtship stillbirth spend the rest of the night beating themselves up. “Are these the only kinds of girls I can ever get?? Fuck, here I am at my best and only the ugly girls come up to me!”

Well, that hideous feeling is the same feeling girls have when miserable wretches come onto them. So what if 1,000 omega males hit on a fatty in chat over the course of a month? It’s still 1,000 omega males, and that makes all the difference.

When you’re ignored by the opposite sex, you can at least mentally masturbate to the hope that you’re attractive to them in their thoughts.

5. Women value commitment, relationships and love, which are much harder to acquire from men than are men’s sexual favors.

The Thirst, as it’s understood by most of the bitterati, applies primarily to sexual desperation; that is, men heaping transparently shallow compliments and favors on women in hopes of sexual reciprocation.

(There is a variant of The Thirst that involves relationship mongering, but this is much rarer among men, the sex for whom getting into relationships is not nearly as difficult as it is for women, nor as desired as getting into panties.)

This is really the biggest flaw in the theory of The Thirst: Thirsty sexual come-ons from horny men are no substitute for the romantic fulfillment of long-term love to women. Women grow up dreaming of their wedding day; they don’t grow up dreaming of all the cock they can squeeze into their hymenically-unsealed snatches.

Women fear insol a lot more than they fear incel. Lesson: If you want to properly shiv a feminist, ask her how long it’s been since a man stayed with her for longer than three months.

6. Women lie.

Finally, one contributing factor for a widely held belief in The Thirst is simply that women lie about their attractiveness to men. In fact, women lie more than men do about all things related to sex and romance. Are you sitting next to that fat chick as she stares at her flickering phone screen? No? Then don’t take her assertion that she gets “tons of attention” from men as the gospel truth.

***

This balls-deep CH analysis proves that the Red Pill concept of The Thirst is an overblown interpretation of a sexual market reality that, nevertheless, contains some useful truth value as a general map of intersexual relations.

The part of The Thirst that is true:

Women generally do receive more sexual solicitations than do their peer group men.

The parts of The Thirst that are false:

Fat, ugly, or old women can get desirable sexual attention, and convert it into actual sex, any time they want. There is a scourge of desperate beta and omega males banging down the doors of fatties and fugs. Online flattery gives ugly women long-lasting ego boosts. Women appreciate sexual attention as much as men appreciate it. An epidemic of thirsty beta males is making pickup much more difficult for charming players.

Even the true part of The Thirst is subject to circumspection. There is a wild swing in sexual attention skew when we compare women and men at different points on the SMV scale. For instance, an HB9 and a male 9 won’t be as far apart in sexual attention received by the opposite sex as will an HB7 and a male 7. Nor, paradoxically, will a female 1 and a male 1. At the extremes of sexual repulsiveness and sexual attractiveness the male-female difference in ability to incite the opposite sex to romantic exclusion or abandon narrows a bit.

It’s in the middle of the SMV belle curve where we discover that the sex attention skew — The Thirst Ratio — dramatically widens among the mediocre masses. A female 5 will receive, and particularly online where face-to-face rejection isn’t a threat, a lot more manipulative flattery from low value men than a male 5 will receive from low value women. This sex difference could be on the order of 100-to-1, or worse.

The sexual market is intrinsically unfair, so much so that it makes mockery of equalist pretensions. Beta males who are new to the teachings of Game and struggling to find romantic success bemoan this unfairness, but it’s better to accept it as an immutable part of the natural order and do what it takes to leverage the blessings, and attenuate the curses, of that order.

tl;dr

“He’s just not *that* into you.”

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Besides a wispy thatch of blonde pubes cresting a slow wave of inflamed pink, this might be the most beautiful thing I’ve seen all week.

Early this morning, an anonymous person or persons put up posters around Columbia University—in the 116th Street subway station, outside of Tom’s Restaurant, on stoplights and construction walls—emblazoned with the image of student Emma Sulkowicz and her now-iconic mattress. Since September 2014, Sulkowicz has been dragging the mattress around campus as a protest against the school’s handling of her rape allegations against another student. (That student, Paul Nungesser, has since sued the university.) This morning’s posters accuse Sulkowicz of making it all up, dismissing her as “Pretty Little Liar” with the caption “Emma Sulkowitz” [sic] and “RapeHoax.”

A new Twitter account, @FakeRape, has been tweeting pictures of the posters for the last five hours. Another poster, picturing Lena Dunham sticking her tongue out, is clearly part of the series, emblazoned “Big Fat Liar,” with the same #RapeHoax hashtag.

A graduating army of Chateau Heartiste shock troops likes the feel of their heavy scrota, and the joy of placing their stones on the chins of malicious feminist cuntrags. For this reason, the Columbia University anonymous Realtalker™ earns this edition of Shiv of the Week.

Shame, mortify, and ostracize feminists until they slither away to their dank bedrooms in solidarity with their bruised egos, or they self-deliver in the gloom of their despair. Cantankerous and cancerous feminist attention whores fear nothing more than total social expulsion. When the tide finally turns, and it will, even their closest sistren will betray them for the mercy of the cool mean girls.

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The Spirit Within, CH’s resident disingenuous shitlib (but I repeat myself), disingenuously asks,

Re: The Great White Biker Gang Chimpout in Waco, Texas.

The silence on this website is deafening. Doesn’t fit the narrative, CH? Diversity plus proximity and all that?

Yes, because the massively disproportionate depraved violence committed by blacks, including the disproportionate black-on-white race hatred crime that goes completely unreported by the gatekeepers of valuable life-saving information, necessarily means that whites commit no crime at all. /sarcasm

Too easy.

The Sperg That Spins isn’t even in the ballpark on the particulars of this biker gang shootout. 30% of the combatants were vibrantly hued, which is 30% more diversity than open borders nutjob Bryan Caplan runs into when he’s plugging himself into his neighborhood charging station.

The Sputum Offends, there’s a reason that dissident sites like this one call uncomfortable attention to the reality of MASSIVELY DISPROPORTIONATE depraved violent black crime (which mincing faggot feebs like yourself can’t tolerate): The anti-white Hivemind won’t tell the truth, so someone has to. May as well be the fun guy wielding the Holy Heartistian Shiv.

As for the official CH press release on white crime, I can’t say it better than PA wrote here,

A trap some pro-Whites get caught in is pinning all violent crime on blacks or others. While the reality, statistics, and often sheer honor-less animalism of violent crime follows race-based patterns, it is a mistake to distance one’s nationalistic case from crime as such.

It’s a goody-goody, Ned Flanders trap because a healthy society includes a reasonably managed criminal underclass. Somebody has to rule the streets. The wilder of our girls need someone to be attracted to. We need, in a few cases the wisened older men who know what it means to steal or worse. We need the reserve army of muscle and balls. And once again, we need someone to rule the rougher streets; best it’s our thugs rather than their thugs.

Amen.

There isn’t a single instance of CH ever claiming white crime doesn’t exist. If you read stuff like Albion’s Seed and alternative anti-Hivemind outlets… or if you just leave your house once in a while and travel the land with your eyes open… you’ll know that American whites are already quite a diverse group of folk. You’ll know that white men from the South, Appalachia, and far interior West, and especially from Texas, are a rowdier, manlier bunch than white men from Yankeedom or Mexifornia. But these rowdy folk are my folk, and not the other sub-folk who like to pour bleach down the throats of pretty white girls for shits and giggles.

So you wanna keep playing this game, The Semen On Chin? You’ll lose. And I’ll relish twisting the shiv in your guts for as long as it takes for you to slink outta here tail between legs.

PS Anyone else notice that many of the biker gang members were middle-aged men? It’s like the last dying gasp of unfettered testosterone in this fractured nation. We’ve reached a nadir when the warrior spirit lives on in an aging generation, assuming the duties of the androgynous generations to follow.

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Creator and anti-WASP bigot Matthew Weiner ended his show Mad Men, in his usual style of conspicuously pushing the neurotic propaganda of feminist empowerment and WASP old order cultural displacement while sabotaging his good progressive beliefs by giving in to the exhilarating temptation to sneak morsels of Realtalk™ into his lavish set piece scenes.

(For the record, I thought the show was pretty good 2/3rds of the time. 1/3rd of it was too muddled, directionless, and boilerplate liberal to be worthy of my undivided judgmentalism.)

Mad Men ended on a lot of happy notes. Happy, if we judge by the satisfaction of feminist and manlet pop culture critics crowing about Joan’s new business venture or Peggy’s bright, barren careergrrl future. But CH has the Crimson Pill which will enlighten you about what really happens to all the characters if they were representations of real world people instead of fantasy pewter figurines in the equalist’s curio shoppe.

Joan – She starts a successful video production company spin-off from the contacts she acquired as part of a bonanza of largesse from generous Sterling Cooper men who fucked her or wanted to fuck her over the years. Gradually, her female influence — sexual harassment seminars! — erodes the company’s bottom line, and she has to bring in a male COO to right the ship. As is typical of aging, buxom women who are va va voom in their prime, she bloats up to the size of a tugboat, and at age 45 has to face the prospect of romantic isolation with a son who hates her more each day for selfishly robbing him of a father. She consoles herself with cats, her bank account, and feverish shopping sprees, while wondering in her spare moments if she should have hung up the phone as her lover, Richard, was heading out the door for the last time.

Peggy – Stan and Peggy marry, but Stan comes to resent, despite his best liberal intentions, his subordinate occupational and social role to his wife. This perfectly natural male resentment eats at their marriage, until they divorce and Peggy spends the next twenty years in the bowels of corporate America becoming that ballbusting cunt employees will brag about having worked under as proof of their ability to survive the Worst Boss Ever. She has one Downs Syndrome kid with Stan whom she promptly gives up to an orphanage like she did with her first bastard. She ages poorly and kills herself at age 55 on an overdose of Vicodin.

Betty – Betty dies with a cigarette in her mouth, and Henry finds a younger hotter tighter woman to marry within the year, defying his grief and tears and earnest belief that no one like Betty will ever grace his life again.

Sally – The cock carousel is Sally’s calling. She rides with abandon.

Pete – As a somewhat charming, egotistical prick with executive status, Pete is never wanting for sexual attention from young women. He breaks his promise to Trudy and cheats on her with a Wichita beauty queen. But Pete loves Trudy and treats her well through the haze of his sexual peccadilloes… she is after all his main squeeze and mother of his children… so this complicates Trudy’s anger toward her husband. Trudy loves her prairie life and Lear Jet so much she puts up with Pete’s indiscretions, breaking her promise to him and to herself. There is no worse betrayal than betraying one’s own principles.

Roger – Aloof alpha male to the end, (and CH’s favorite character… “and bring one for my mother…”), Roger learns just enough French to coax hot MILF Marie to offer him anal access. She hates him and loves him for this. Also, he comes to his senses and threatens to rescind his Last Will and Testament to write his bastard son out of it until Joan gives the kid his surname.

Don – Don returns to McCann the most self-assured he’s ever felt. He creates the Coca-Cola “I’d like to teach the world to sing…” ad, which catapults him to superstardom status within the ad-making communitaaaaah. He also returns to chasing skirt and charming the pants off everyone, but now that he’s found inner peace, he no longer feels guilt for his choices. A yogic serenity allows him, for the first time in his life, to accept himself as the alpha male juggernaut people can’t help but love and serve. He stops beating himself up for possessing a skill set which earns him nice things in life, like money, women, and beta male admiration. He bangs Peggy across his desk after she comes to him confessing marital troubles with Stan.

tl;dr

Mad Men is the expectoration of Matthew Weiner’s low T combined with his envy of the Winkelvoss golem and his lifelong mixed feelings for his overbearing Jewish mother.

 

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Check out the WOWJUSTWOW face on this broad (at 4:02) after Gavin McInnes drops a steaming deuce on a Feminist First Principle.

He’s basically right. Most women (read: non-reptiles) are happier raising kids than they are raising profit margins. Most men are happier in the office than they are at home changing diapers. Men and women are different to their cores, and feminism is a project of lies with the goal of eradicating those core differences. And if they can’t succeed at erasing biological reality, they’ll take their consolation prize by mangling public policy and laws until all men and women are miserable.

We need more hardcore pushback against feminism, and more WOWJUSTWOW faces wrested from the wretched witches.

Related: Sheryl Sandberg’s “Lean In” book more likely to hurt women than to help them.

Ms. Sandberg goes clueless on science throughout her book…

Heh.

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