Chicks Dig Jerks: Science Edition

The Inductivist has a number of posts about studies examining, indirectly, the widely-observed but heretofore unquantified phenomenon of chicks digging jerks. In this post, he reports that the average family size of jail inmates is higher than the general population:

Mean number of children

One lifetime arrest 3.00
Two 2.95
Five 2.86
Ten 3.38

More serious criminals have just as many kids as minor ones, and as many as non-criminals. The correlation between number of offspring and number of arrests is .04–basically non-existent.  Evidently, criminals are sufficiently alpha to have as many kids as anyone else, in spite of their low social status and time behind bars.

Girls find a way to sniff out ex-cons — or even current cons — and get impregnated by them. They just can’t get enough of their hellraising seed.

Here is a second post on the same study, broken down by race.

Family size does not decrease with more arrests for either race. The correlation between number of offspring and number of arrests is -.02 for whites and .02 for blacks; in other words, there is no relationship. According to the MIDUS Study of non-criminal men aged 45 or over, the mean number of children is 2.62.  Criminals have just as many, if not more, kids. (I’ll look for prison inmate data–jail inmates have a lower average level of criminality.)

You would think that men spending many of their prime reproductive years behind bars would hinder their ability to pump out sprog, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. Male prisoners have loads of female groupies willing to have raw dog sex with them.

A commenter to that study writes:

I have no science to back this up, but I can tell you this from experience… inmates in jails and prisons have more kids than the system will ever know. Your numbers are skewed because of children not reported. I knew of one young man that was 22 years old that had 4 children and another 3 women pregnant with his babies. I would wager that the number is much higher for felons than the general population by a large margin. look at the number of women and children on state aid. Where do you think the fathers are… or have been?

Isn’t it funny how a woman will remain faithful to a lowlife behind fucking bars so that she can bear his, and only his, children, but will step out on a loyal provider beta hubby who plays by the rules? Knee-slappingly funny, I say.

Another commenter writes:

What if a single arrest is just enough to make you into an “alpha” in the eyes of a significant number of females but not enough to subject you to the racially-biased sterilization effects of jail?

One arrest seems to be the sweet spot for capitalizing on your instant alpha attractiveness to women without having to sacrifice too much personal freedom, or without experiencing de facto sterilization by decades away from pussy. This study validates the relevance of question #18 in the Dating Market Value Test for Men.

It should go without saying (unfortunately this blog gets its share of dense readers, so little goes unsaid or implied lest the short bus crowd starts screeching like constipated tards) that not every woman pops a clit boner for criminals. Perhaps not even a majority of women. But enough of them do that we can make accurate generalizations about the contours of sexual desire that all women possess.

In comparison to men, desirable women are far and away more likely to feel sexual and emotional attraction for opposite sex criminals, thugs, killers and assorted bad apples. If we map this desire on a bell curve, we would see at the far right tail the women who send letters to death row inmates and sometimes even fuck them and bear their children. In the middle would be the mass (and I do mean mass) of typical women who tingle for criminals but would not go out of their way to seduce one unless a consequence-free opportunity were present. At the left side of this jerk-loving bell curve would be the women who swear up and down that criminal men have no appeal to them. These latter women are usually lesbians or older, married broads who have lost touch with the intense libidos that motivated their younger selves.

If we superimpose a male bitch-loving bell curve onto a female jerk-loving bell curve what we would see is that the female curve is far to the right of the male curve, and the male curve would be bunched up into its left side. That is, there are significantly more women who love jerks than there are men who love bitches. This is as a Darwinian reading of human sociosexuality would predict. Male criminals have advertised their fitness as strong survival gene machines, while female bitches haven’t advertised much except what a pain in the ass they would be after sex.

If you have to wonder why chicks dig jerks and guys don’t similarly dig bitches, you need to recall the fundamental premise of the sexual market:

Men love youth and beauty. Women love charisma and power.

Beauty is not contingent upon a women’s bitchiness or criminal propensity. (In fact, female thuggishness is usually a leading indicator of ugliness.) In contrast, charisma and will-to-power are correlative with male criminal propensity.

In future posts, I will look at the appeal that death row inmates have for women. (Death row females — the few that there are — don’t have the same appeal for men. Shocking, I know.)

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Found! Useful Relationship Advice From A Woman

Two women, to be precise. In a new book called “Stop Calling Him Honey… And Start Having Sex”, the two female authors dispense relationship advice that could have been lifted straight from the Chateau files. (Maybe they have?) For instance, they write that pet names are a surefire way to kill the sexual tension in a relationship.

Pet names — “honey,” “darling,” “super-snuggly-puggly,” whatever — need to be expunged from a couple’s vocabulary.

Calling your spouse your “pookie” or “huggums” flips a switch in the subconscious, and suddenly your husband or wife is no longer that hot, sensual creature you once lusted after.

“It turns people into an asexual, cuddly teddy-bear toy that you want to spoon with and watch funny movies with and drink hot chocolate with,” says Davis, “but it doesn’t make you want toshag them!

“When you first meet someone, you’re hot for them,” she adds. “You’re not going to be calling up, going, ‘Hi, Pookie Wookie, what do you want to do later?’ No, you’re going to be calling up and going ‘Hey, Richard, so what do you want to do?’

While researching their book, Davis and Arana say they found an interesting pattern: the worse the pet names used by a couple, the worse their sex lives were.

In turn, the couples that didn’t use them tended to have healthier sex lives.

Mostly agreed. Goofy, cutesy pet names or perfunctory rote designations like “honey” that are meant to serve as expedient shorthand for validating relationship stability are sexual tension killers. It’s better to give her a sexy, slightly demeaning nickname like, oh, “slut”, and for her to call you by your manly real name. The only acceptable nicknames that she may call you are “stud”, “daddy” or “Prince of Penises”.

The Chateau has written before about giving nicknames — as opposed to pet names — to lovers:

Nicknames are great. They establish the proper paternalistic male – frivolous female dynamic that is the foundation of all successful and happy romantic relationships. Plus, they objectify women, and almost all women, contrary to the shrieks of dusty muffed feminists everywhere, harbor a secret desire to be objectified by condescending men. Imagine a cock slapping a chick’s face… forever. (plz to make animated gif.)

So you should always give women nicknames, preferably more than one to suit whatever happens to be the occasion.

Some of my personal favorites:

Lovechop.

Little Miss Muffin.

Showgirl.

Sugar Walls.

Miss Minx.

Princess Peach Pit.

Puss n Boobs.

Tits Ahoy.

Twinkletits.

Jujube.

Cock Envelope.

Queef Latifah.

Ho.

Good rule of thumb: the hotter the chick, the sluttier the nickname. It’s imperative that you sexualize a hot girlfriend soon after beginning to date her. Hot chicks have huge egos and crave a man who will bring them down to earth. This bringing down to earth process involves basically treating her like a convenient wet hole.

I’d steer clear of granting mushy or sexual nicknames to girls on first dates. That’s a fast track to disqualifying yourself as a needy pervert. Those are best saved for later on. Early game chicknames should be more teasing, less sexual. Like calling her Red Carpet when she shows up overdressed to an event, or Grace Kelly when she trips on the sidewalk.

You’ll notice that, for the most part, the Chateau-recommended nicknames are sexual, and somewhat degrading, in nature. And that they are strictly a one-way nomenclature. So the next time your chick calls you “honey”, don’t insta-reply with your own “honey”. Instead, gently remind her to call you by your blood and soil name. Swing a halberd overhead for good measure.

Continuing with the subject of this post, the two broads also say:

Still, the authors say, pet names — and their insidious cousin “baby talk” — are merely symptoms of a greater problem: the “roommate syndrome.”

On its surface, the roommate syndrome might sound like a decent partnership: Spouses do everything together and share all the same friends, interests and beliefs.

“We all have this romantic idea, the whole Cinderella thing,” says Davis. “‘Oh, I’m going to meet my Prince Charming and we are going to talk about everything together and be together all the time. We’re never going to argue. We’re going to do absolutely everything in front of one another. We’re just going to be so close.'”

A bad arrangement, she says.

“A couple years down the road, you’ve done everything together, you doing everything together, you’ve agreed with everything and frankly you look at the other person and you think, ‘Now what? I’m kind of bored because basically I’m talking to myself. I’m with myself, I’m with the other half of myself.'”

And that’s when the physical part of the relationship leaves town.

Baby talk is OK, as long as it is the woman feeling a compulsion to speak that way when in the private company of her man. Any man using baby talk with his woman should lop — or rather, daintily snip — his balls off and mail them to a scientific lab to be studied under an electron microscope for possible application in nanotechnology.

The fact is, women regress to a vulnerable child-like state when all their sexual buttons are being pressed by a man they love. Baby talk is a natural extension of this WIL regression to a submissive childhood mentality. It can get a little annoying for a man to hear this type of talk too much, so women would be wise to check themselves before they wreck themselves.

Where the authors are correct is in pinpointing the roommate syndrome as a leading cause of bed death. The hottest, most sexually satisfying relationships are never with lovers who are your carbon copy. A good lover isn’t so different that you can’t stand each other and hate their hobbies, but neither is he or she so similar that you can predict their every dull move. Since we know that hypergamous, non-harem mentality women get bored more quickly with relationships (66-80%+ of divorces initiated by women, and most LTRs ended by women), it stands to reason that if you want a long-lived marriage or LTR you should aim for girls who:

a. close and lock the fucking bathroom door when they take a dump, and

b. don’t share your hobbies.

You should also be worried if you haven’t had an argument with your GF or wife in the past year.

You might want to reconsider moving in together, as well. Or, if you do so, to at least have a separate study where you can occasionally get out of her sight, and vice versa.

Moving along, the authors write:

“Sex is the glue that brings us together,” says Arana. “Whenever we heard a couple say, ‘We spend all of our time together, and we never argue.’ Those were the couples we found in our research that, yeah, they never argued and they spent all their time together, but they weren’t having sex either.”

Those are the relationships, Arana adds, that are the most vulnerable.

They’re right. Have an argument, save your sex life. Generations of credential-waving, platitude-spouting fembot marriage counselors and therapists have had their lives’ work reduced to less value than the paper their worthless degrees are printed on by avatars of real world experience such as yer ‘umble narrators of this blog.

Here is some more shockingly useful advice from these two women:

Close the bathroom door.

No using the potty in front of your spouse, ever.

“You want to check yourself,” says Davis. “Would I have [used the bathroom] in front of my partner at the beginning of the relationship? No way! No way would you have done that.”

No man wants to hear the toilet water kerplunk when his beloved’s stool escapes her anus. This is true for women as well… that is, women don’t even want to hear their own stool kerplunk. Women are a bit more forgiving than men are about hearing their lover’s kerplunks, because a gruff, gross animalistic man is a turn-on for women, in measured doses.

Argue more.

This is not fighting, but holding your ground, keeping your own opinions and engaging in some playful arguments.

“It’s just about keeping an opinion, and even flirting a bit with banter, Katharine Hepburnish kind of banter,” says Arana. “A lot of couples don’t do it. They are so afraid of a difference of opinion.”

Nah, arguing is fighting. No need to prettify it. They’re right on the whole, though. A beta male’s biggest shortcoming is his fear of offending his woman. Hey betas, newsflash: women WANT you to offend them. Not all the time, of course. But enough times that she is helpfully reminded of the alpha male she wants to believe you are. Sexual tension can be ramped up to incredible heights by edgy, borderline insulting banter.

Have your own friends, interests and life.

“We don’t mean go off and have a separate life or not communicate with your partner, but you need to constantly keep growing as an individual,” says Arana. “Why not take an evening class if it’s something you’re interested in?

“You have to keep growing as an individual and then bring that back to the relationship.”

See: Poon Commandment III. The Chateau is well ahead of you, ladies.

Build a few walls.

Keep things close to the vest a bit. Don’t share everything that goes through your mind, especially sexual desires.

“You have to maintain a little bit of mystery,” says Davis.

Mystery, unpredictability, dread. All these male traits and behaviors — learned or organic — conspire to make a woman tingle so hard for you that she can’t think straight. It’s a superdose, superinjection of dopaminx right into her limbic clitoris.

In short, don’t become her best friend. Become her best lover.

If you’re wondering… yes, they are mutually exclusive.

***

I’ve noticed a trend lately of books and articles written by women that are plagiarizing borrowing from the themes espoused daily on this blog. Smart women — realistic women, and probably women who have been burned by stupidly banal relationship advice one too many times — are coming around to the everlasting fountain of wisdom and truth that is the Chateau. They don’t say it with quite the same.. verve… that we do here, but their message is beginning to converge with the Chateau’s message.

To that I say, welcome ladies! Your left eyes are better.

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Why Is The FDA Moving To Ban You From Freely Accessing Your Genomic Data?

An FDA official has been caught on video in a lie under oath making claims about the research being done by genetic testing companies. The FDA is seeking to institute onerous regulations that would ban you from accessing your OWN genetic information without a doctor’s authorization, based on some flimsy justification that the data constitute a “medical device”. This is, in a word, tyrannical.

Any lover of liberty should be appalled by this move by the FDA. They — and make no mistake, the FDA poobahs are firmly entrenched members of the ruling elite; true Phase III overlords — are trying to restrict your access to your genetic profile. Want to know what your genes say? Too bad, you now need a doctor’s say-so before you can see that information. Want to know if that kid is yours? Not until a doc signs off on the testing, which, unsurprisingly, could take quite a long time after the red tape is disentangled and the lawyers have been paid.

Why is the FDA attempting this run-around basic human liberties? A few explanations jump to mind.

1. It’s the smell of money. The FDA wants to hold onto its power as reviewer and arbiter of medical information. Cheap and easy genetic testing by startup companies threatens their stranglehold over the industry, and over your right to know your own goddamned genetic profile.
2. Paternity testing is going to be big business, and the FDA and docs want in on it. As Bill said in a comment over at Steve Sailer’s site, “It’s a backdoor attempt to squeeze more money out of family law/child support issues. If any guy could send in a cheek swab of himself and his putative child to ascertain paternity in an open market, why, that’s hundreds of millions of dollars per year that would otherwise be handled by “qualified medical professional[s]” who would be assured a steady stream of court-ordered tests.”
3. The feminists are grumbling, and that’s all the excuse the power-hungry FDA needs to restrict access to one’s genetic information. As predicted right here at the Chateau, a feminist utopia is one in which quick and easy paternity testing is banned or made difficult to acquire. It’s happening right before our eyes.
4. The government (and this includes the FDA) is deathly afraid of what we all might find out by our sequenced genomes. Oh, it’s not the release of any one individual’s genome that bothers them; it’s the… ahem… impolite patterns and interpretations that can be discerned from the open knowledge of millions of sequenced genomes. The implications of this should be obvious to anyone who understands the fear that motivates the deceitful actions of the tabula rasa crowd.

Email this guy Shuren at jeff.shuren@fda.hhs.gov, the lead actor behind this push by the FDA to stifle knowledge. Tell him what you think of corrupt, lying bastards who try to suppress truth with the levers of the government.

You know, there was once a time when Americans could, with few exceptions, count on their government and those they elect to work for their interests, and not against them. Those days are long gone.

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File Under: Five Minutes Of Alpha

Monica “Keeper of the cigars” Lewinsky says she’s still in love with super alpha Bill Clinton:

Bill Clinton’s former intern Monica Lewinsky has not got married or had children because she is reportedly still in love with him and ‘always will be’.

‘Monica still hasn’t got over Bill and would take him back in a second,’ a friend said.

‘She told me: “There will never be another man in my life that could make me as happy as he did”,’ the friend told the National Enquirer magazine.

‘Monica still carries a torch for him. She’s dated some [betas], off and on, since the whole White House mess. But she’s never been able to get Bill out of her heart’.

When a woman has blown the President of the United States — and let’s face it, it doesn’t get much more alpha than President — no other man can compare. And this is true regardless of the looks of the woman. A bloated seacow like Lewinsky should be ecstatic to receive the attention of a middling beta male, but after Bill’s tender ministrations her hamster lurched all the way to hyperdrive and warped into a parallel mentalverse where she thinks dropping on bended knee to service the Cock in Chief a few times is proof he loves her and she has the goods to attract the very highest value men. If this isn’t a classic real-world example of the maxim that women prefer five minutes of alpha to five years of beta, I don’t know what is.

Unfortunately for Monica’s self-regard, she’s still a fat aging shit, so Bill stuffing her mouth full of bubbameat a long time ago didn’t, in actuality, raise her sexual market value at all like it would have done for a male intern who plowed a female head of state. She might think she’s all that and a milkshake, but she’s just another waddling turd like 60% of the American outback. For women, their status equation is simple:

Looks, looks, looks.

So what happens when a horny alpha male with time on his hands and a convenient outlet down the White House hall decides to inflate a chubby chick’s ego by stuffing his cock in her face? Well, you combine his charmingly Ozarkian attentions with a woman’s natural inclination to optimistically reevaluate her sexual worth every time an alpha dumps an empty fuck in her, and, voila!, fifteen years later you get a fatter chick, single and alone.

This is the perfect formula for raising the odds that a random woman will wind up a spinster with a houseful of cats:

Have her get sexually plundered by a super alpha a few times in her prime + throw a good thirty pounds of blubber on her frame = overinflated sense of self and an unyielding refusal to settle that is conveniently aided by her grotesque body which makes her invisible to lesser beta men who might otherwise think about dating her.

When Clinton’s memoir My Life came out in 2004, Miss Lewinsky spoke of her upset at its contents to the Daily Mail, saying rather than being a physical fling, it was a mutual relationship.

‘He could have made it right with the book, but he hasn’t. He is a revisionist of history. He has lied.

‘I really didn’t expect him to go into detail about our relationship’, she added. ‘But if he had and he’d done it honestly, I wouldn’t have minded.’

She believed he made it sound like the dalliance came only at her initiative and was purely physical.

Color me shocked that a spurned woman still in thrall to an alpha male she blew a few times fifteen years ago would misinterpret the “relationship” and project her female need for love and affection onto his motivations. Newsflash, Monica: You were the nearest available hole.

That said, it is possible Bill loved Monica. I mean, the guy was married to hatchet-faced Hillary ferkrissakes. A young, albeit chubby, chick working within his line of sight could very easily inspire a gush of genuine love from a suffering older man long-married to a ballcutting feminist shrike.

‘He talked about it as though I had laid it all out there for the taking. I was the buffet and he just couldn’t resist the dessert.’

Darlin’, you ate the buffet:

The lesson here is not whether Bill did or didn’t love Monica. The lesson is that it is bad news for beta males when women get a few months of ego-boosting lovemaking with alpha males. I speak from some experience. Seeing as I have accumulated a fair amount of stalkers over my lifetime, I’m certain there are ex-girlfriends who still to this day cannot get over me, and have bid their time alone rather than settle for second-best.

Women will fondly remember those alpha male intimate moments for years afterwards — in fact, they’ll remember right up until they are reclined on their deathbeds — and their ability to bond with lesser men will be severely compromised. Even when she is a fat fuck who should be thankful for any male attention.

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She Wants You To Help Her Be Less Independent

A reader emails:

I was recently having a conversation with the girl I’m currently dating. She’s the first girl with whom I’ve successfully fully integrated the Dark Arts of Alphadom. We somehow got on the subject of the amount people (males and females alike) demand from their partners, when she said something that took me aback:

“You’re not demanding at all!”

The reason this surprised me is everything in this relationship has been on my terms. I decide when, where and how long we’re going to hang out. I tell her she can’t do things with me and demand that she get me a snack after sex.

Why would her hamster make her say something like that?

P.S. Thanks to your advice, I got her a blowpop that said “You Rock!” for valentines day.

Another reader has seen the hamster behind the curtain, and he is amazed at its contortionist ability. What you have witnessed, good sir, is the halo effect in action. When you are gaming a girl successfully and she perceives your alphaness shining like a supernova, everything you do — even the stinky shits you take — will be imbued with a positive glow by her HIL (Hamster In Love). I have belched in girls’ ears and pressed my ass cheeks against them just in time to rip a vibrato fart and the best they could muster in reply was feigned indignation betrayed by fledgling smiles. In stark contrast, if any old beta farts in a girl’s face he will be chewed out and shown the door, or possibly kneed in the grapes. Similarly, if a beta tries to make demands of his girl, she will explode in self-righteous fury and feminist boilerplate.

But when you are loved for the charismatic alpha male you are, you can do no wrong. The bitter well from which those feminist harangues are drawn and that spill so easily from her lips when she is upbraiding beta males suddenly dries up when she is in the presence of a rare breed of man. It’s no coincidence that women regress to a child-like demeanor when they are with their lovers. The best of childhood is innocence, joy and carefree vivacity. That is what a good man does for a woman who loves him.

A woman who is constitutionally incapable of this girlhood regression is not worth loving.

The halo effect is only a partial explanation. When you are a dominant man leading your woman on the important, and sometimes not-so-important, issues, she will simply be unable to perceive your demands as anything other than sweet relief from the drone of betas buzzing around her every day and everywhere. To her mind, your demands, while objectively presumptive and patronizing, are freedom from her stultifying self-sufficiency, assertiveness and combativeness.

Do you think a normal, young, cute woman wants to be assertive? To take charge? To lead? To make the decisions? Of course not! When she does these things she feels less feminine. But when you make demands of her, she feels more feminine, more like a woman. She feels as if her purpose in life has been rediscovered, and the jagged edges of her daily grind have been smoothed and polished. This is what a woman means when she says “this just feels right for some reason.”

It’s almost Orwellian what happens to a WIL’s mental processes when she is in the company of her lover. Surrender is victory. Slavery is freedom. Submission is power. If you do not understand what I’m talking about (a reaction I expect from the feminist cunts and the inexperienced nancyboys) you will need to read the book upon which the Chateau of this blog gets its inspiration.

Men can’t comprehend why women respond so positively to dominating men. The typical man will bristle and his muscles will tense when another man attempts to assert his dominance over him. The severity of the bristling is in proportion to the closeness of the status differential. (Men tend to ignore or abide dominance assertions by men who are far above them in status, deciding it is best to fight for status rights where there is a chance of winning.)

This incomprehension with the flow of the female mind leads men to project their own sexual attraction mechanisms onto women, emphasizing things like youth and beauty to attract women and de-emphasizing things like dominance and authoritarianism. This is as good an explanaion as any for the mere existence of the mass of bumbling betas. But the men who have had their minds opened to the biomechanical matrix and their hearts opened to the transcendent possibilities for love are the men that women subconsciously prefer to shower with their gratitude — in the best way they know how.

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Emotional Pornography

Occasionally even a feminist manages a swiping glance at the truth. Naomi Wolf has a track record of immersing herself in a stinking pile of pretty lies, but her contention that widespread porn availability numbs men to the pleasures of “real women”* might have some merit.

(*Translating from the femcuntspeak, “real women” = aging, slovenly lardasses.)

A whole generation (or two) of men has grown up watching hot chicks have sex on the internet. Most of the girls in porn are better looking than the average fat American woman who couldn’t throw her cankles behind her ears if she tried. It’s not a stretch to think that such mass wanking to the top 10% in tight female bodies desensitizes men to sex with the rapidly dumpifying plain janes they meet in real life. Result: more pump and dumps as men feel less incentive to invest in these entitled shambling mounds.

So a reasonable argument could be made that hardcore porn has raised men’s expectations beyond practicality. Or that it has sated their desire to the point that men lack the motivation to aggressively pursue real life shit-testing women.

Ah, but as with so many theories propounded by feminists and family values conservatives, they utterly neglect to mention the role of female hypergamy and the effect that hypergamy has on women’s choices in the dating market. Remember the fundamental law of the sexual market: As the gatekeepers to sex, women get the men they deserve. If women are rewarding assholes and players with sex, then assholes and players are what men will emulate.

But thankfully the world is blessed with the wit and wisdom — and the sadism to tell it like it is — of the Chateau. So you come here for the full truth, because you think you can handle it. And the truth is that modern women have been gluttonously absorbing their own version of expectation-raising and niceguy-desensitizing porn…

Emotional pornography.

A commenter writes:

Women do have problems with false expectations of romance. Emotional pornography has really screwed with their heads.

Think Lifetime channel movies.

Bingo. Biologically, women don’t get off on visual porn the way men do. But that doesn’t mean they don’t have their own outlets for electrifying the beaver, or that they don’t avail themselves of these female-centric outlets with the same gusto that men do of theirs.

Let’s get right to it. Women masturbate to words. To stories. Stories as told in movies, books and TV. These stories share common themes, often featuring the hard-to-get, aloof alpha male preselected by tons of attractive women, and the maladroit beta male to play the foil. The alpha male in women’s fantasies is outsized. His kind exists in extraordinarily tiny numbers in the real world. Which makes his grudgingly surrendered love that much the sweeter.

Do not for a minute think men’s visual porn and women’s emotional porn aren’t comparable. They are exactly the same in purpose, and in function. Men jack off to YouPorn and women jack off to daydreams of Edward Cullen or Dr. McDreamy from Grey’s Anatomy. One inconsequential difference is that men’s jacking off is typically more physical in nature, with an unmistakeable denouement in ejaculation. Women, having a baseline hormonal horniness somewhat below that of men and being not quite as groin focused in their sexuality, express their jacking off in wistful, emotional mental journeys that occasionally culminate in vulval self-administration under the bedsheets late at night.

The end result of all this jacking off to ideal virtual lovers is the same for women and men: raised expectations and disappointment with the real life alternatives.

As most men are game-less herbs and provider betas, the explosion of emotional porn for women has indirectly caused the betas’ dating market value to drop, in the same way that YouPorn has caused the dating market value of average-looking, out of shape women to drop. The drop isn’t precipitous, because for most people bland but real sex still beats exciting but virtual sex. But the drop is enough to make a difference in the zeitgeist of the mating market, as well as within the quasi-confines of marriage.

Naomi Wolf and Kay Hymowitz think they get a free pass to shame men for watching porn to the detriment of relationships with real women. *cracks knuckles* Here’s a roll call of the leading outlets of emotional porn numbing our nation’s women to sex and relationships with real, normal, niceguys:

Grey’s Anatomy
Gossip Girl
The Bachelorette
Desperate Housewives
Sex and the City
Anything on Lifetime Channel or WeTV
Pretty much everything on the major networks in primetime
Any big studio rom-com
Twilight (books and movies)
Any and all pulp romance novels
Academy awards shows
Tabloids
The entirety of the insipid celebrity culture

American women, it’s time for you to woman up. Put down the celebrity rags and stop diddling the bean to the latest news about Jake Gyllenhaal’s love life. The future of your country rests on bringing your unrealistic ballooning expectations back down to earth, in line with what your flabby bodies, unfeminine personalities, galling sluttiness and crow’s feet actually offers men.

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The Creativity Stagnation

Jason Malloy, one of the more perceptive presences on the web, had this to say about creativity in the comments section at The Inductivist:

There are two different kinds of creativity … or rather there are two distinctive wells of creativity.

The first well is simply an extension of general intelligence. Smarter people can make more interesting and complex connections. They also have lower time preference which permits gradual elaboration of their raw creative abilities through craft.

The second (and probably more vital) well is an extension of male sexual drive, and should be thought of as “insight” or extemporaneous creativity. It is hormonally mediated which explains why men are more creatively accomplished than women, and, more importantly, why male creative accomplishment occurs primarily when men are in their 20s and then declines with age. Female creative accomplishment does not show this aging pattern because females are drawing from the former well of creativity but not the latter.

East Asians have plenty of the former kind of creativity but are deficient in the latter because they are biologically calibrated for low male mating effort. Blacks are the opposite. They have high extemporaneous creativity because they are calibrated for high mating effort.

This vital creativity has declined over time as men have become biologically pacified (e.g. the dramatic centuries-long decline in violence — violence being another extension of male mating effort). Most recently Millennials are both less violent and less creative than previous generations.

So contrary to received concerns, I believe creative stagnation should be viewed as a symptom of civilizational progress.

The racial angle is very interesting here, and comports with what I observe in daily life. Also, I have noticed when I’m oversexed by a girlfriend’s insatiable appetite (yes, it is possible to be oversexed), I start to feel claustrophobic and mentally lethargic. I feel a pressing need to get away so that my creativity batteries can be recharged. Maybe this is why I deny women the closure of marriage and kids — I know what it means for my free man’s soul.

Next question: Does ethnic and racial diversity increase or decrease creativity? I suspect, contrary to received wisdom, that diversity above a certain minimum threshold decreases creative output. America clearly was more creative when it was 85-90% white.

So… safe dullness or violent creativity? Pick one or the other. Safe dullness is the end game of a feminized society, while violent creativity is the hallmark of a masculinized society. Perhaps there is a balance to be struck between the two, but today we are clearly too far over into the malaise and soul-suckery of feminization. The Chateau will do its part to correct this historical transgression.

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