Comment Of The Week: Fat Chicks And Their Ludicrous Standards

In yesterday’s post, Days of Broken Arrows made the following observation:

“Fatties also have a problem of unreasonable standards. I don’t think I’ve ever met a fat chick who was not convinced that she was still entitled to a 99-point checklist [Ed: 463 bullet point checklist is the term of art] and a man every bit as desirable as what her younger, thinner self would have bagged.”

I’ve been going through online dating Web site profiles and this statement is DEFINITELY true. It’s disturbing and doesn’t bode well for the country that seriously obese women will put out profiles demanding men be a certain height and weight. WTF?

I don’t spend much time at online dating sites, but I’ve seen the same attitude in real life. It’s preposterous, laughable. Fat chicks who pull the “I’m too good for any man” card are engaging in a very transparent example of sour grapes. It’s easy and emotionally cost-free for a fat chick/old chick/ugly chick/single mommy to have standards no man will meet when most men who aren’t losers couldn’t be bothered to meet her standards in the first place. It’s analogous to crowing about being virtuous when there is no temptation to vice.

Anyhow, in response to DoBA, I wrote:

My take on what’s going on: When you have such horribly low Sexual Market Value that most men find you repulsive, it makes a certain amount of self-gratifying sense to carelessly throw realistic expectations out the window and feed (heh) your ego as a dopamine substitute.

And that’s why you see the perverse phenomenon of so many loser chicks flaunting an unrealistic checklist in men when they themselves have little to offer. It’s not about the men; it’s about them. Their egos must be salvaged before their love lives can be rescued.

Remember, too, that once a girl passes a threshold of sexual inactivity (on average, three to six months), she slips more easily into quasi-involuntary celibacy (quasi, because there is always a loser who will dump a five second fuck in a low SMV girl if she’s willing to swallow (heh) her pride) than a man would. Women are built like worker bees in that respect; once acclimated to celibacy and the dull drone of useless paper-pushing office life, they forget the joys sexual abandon. Or, perhaps, rather than forget, they simply don’t experience the same vital urgency to renew sexual relief the way men do. Consequently, it’s easier for a woman in asexual frigidity mode to maintain a facade of high standards that she must know on a subconscious level will never get her sex and commitment, or even a second date, from the men she wants.

And this phenomenon is more acute amongst fat chicks who were once thin. They fondly recall what it was like to be pursued by men, to turn away those who didn’t meet their expectations, and to experience the thrill of men attempting to satisfy their demands, doing it all for the top-notch nookie. But now, as a fatty (or a cougar or a single mom or an acid burn victim), the men they find desirable shun them and, adding insult to injury, the beta males who once lacked the confidence to approach now hit on them with a grating expectation of success.

What’s a put-upon woman to do? Right. Lie to herself. Happy feelings on the cheap. Better yet, surround herself with yenta friends who will abet her self-delusions.

But neither of the quotes above are the comment of the week. That honor belongs to “uh”, who replied to both of us:

There’s not enough neurochemical payoff for a [fat] woman in admitting the truth to herself if the choice is between that and easy self-affirmation. Given that choice, which may be thought of as a false consciousness imposed/reinforced from above (media), and laterally (other women), the woman becomes alienated from true acceptance of herself as a relational being and enters the narrow straits of denial. Neurochemically this almost resembles the pathway of cigarette addiction: cheap self-affirmation gives quick temporary rewards necessitated only by the presence of the toxin — the subnarrative itself.

This is a concise and penetrating explanation of the common female frailty herein known as Absurd Standards Syndrome (ASS). Insulated by the PC media, glam mags, academia, beta suckups and female friends, women have lost touch with their rank relative to other women and are thus finding it easy to slip into a comfortable bubble of self-delusion. Similar to cigarette addiction, the quick dopamine fix — necessitated by the subnarrative, as uh puts it — trumps the harsher acceptance of personal flaws that must be remedied by willpower and self-control (or simply accommodated) to achieve longer term and more fulfilling rewards, or to come to terms in a dignified manner with one’s diminution of mate choice. This subnarrative toxin, an effluvium of pretty lies, perpetuated by feminists, groupthink apparatchiks and fat acceptors alike, is the wicked poison that courses through the sludgy veins of the Western woman, corroding her from the inside out until she is a mere husk of the feminine ideal that once held sway over the hearts of men. Well done, uh.

Men — particularly internet nerds without a hope of meeting a woman in real life — suffer from this syndrome as well, but not nearly to the same degree that it perplexes women. As has been explained before on this blog, the reason ASS afflicts women more than men is because men, as the chosen sex, have to be more in touch with reality to get what they want in the dating market. A deluded man is quickly a celibate man. A woman in her prime, on the other hand, can stand around looking good, ignorant of the rules of mate choice reality, and men will hit on her… until reality rudely turns against her.

Interestingly, uh’s comment has parallels with the denial inherent in economists’ inability to grasp that the drive for relative status is a bigger motivator of human behavior than the urge to maximize utility. (Want to watch a libertardian squirm? Bring up the subject of status jockeying.) Economists, stuck in the narrow straits of the rational actor (their toxic subnarrative), have become alienated from the commonsensical wisdom that humans are relational beings who sometimes do seemingly inexplicable things just to gain status points over a neighbor. Like fat chicks on an ego-assuaging bender, economists in thrall to their theories have forsaken the long hard look at human nature in favor of the quick pleasure fix of aggregate demand and open borders circle jerk pontificating.

The impetus for our economic decisions is not so far removed from the mechanism guiding our mating decisions. Quite the contrary; economics is servant to sexuality — the one market to rule them all.

Solution: people of good (and not so good) intent must strike at the heart of the toxic subnarratives, killing them and salting the neuronal fields in which they grow, unafraid of the certain immune response it will spastically trigger, before the human psyche (and body) can be healed. The way to kill the subnarratives is one this blog has stressed countless times, and which we here happily, some might say sadistically, pursue — The Three Rs of human psychological manipulation:

Reframe.
Reject.
Ridicule.

Progress will be slow at first, but momentum will inevitably build. It only takes 10% of a population holding an unshakable belief to cause that belief to be adopted by the majority of the society. Your goal of spreading better ideas is not as out of reach as you imagine. Alinsky leftists and ideological warriors have known this fact about group dynamics for generations. It’s time for you to know it too.

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Game Trumps Looks

File under: “Give me five minutes to talk away my ugly face and I can bed a hard 10.” -Voltaire. A reader (kept anonymous for obvious reasons) emails:

I started reading your blog about a week ago after my girlfriend chewed me up and spit me out like the beta I am. I knew about Game before but figured there was no reason to apply it on her. Obviously a mistake. No one would believe the shit she put me through…except the readers of your blog. That’s not why I’m writing, though. You’ve heard it a thousand times.

I wanted to relate this:

Today I am meeting with a girl on my group for a group project. I’m leading this thing but, christ, no real alpha would lower himself to leading a group project. They never do, in my experience. It’s a low status activity, so I just try to keep everyone on task and make sure we show up in class with something worth half a shit.

Anyway, through dint of scheduling I have to meet with this girl alone instead of with the four other people. I figure I might as well start practicing high status behavior so, when I noticed I was going to be early, I decided to hang around the quad until I was a couple minutes late. When I walk through the door I notice, potentially for the first time, that she is a fucking ten if there ever was one. 19 yrs, tight, flawless skin with just enough tan, full c breasts, beautiful symmetrical exotic features that sing, and the kind of wavy brunette hair that any girl outside of a pantene spot would literally kill for. Me: short, freckles, red hair, glasses, slim but doughy and pale, and 28 years of betadom to back it all up. Not terribly disciplined. Socially shy, but like most betas dominant when there is real work to do. I run and physically I’m a…4-5? On a good day. In the interests of full disclosure, I have some small scabs on my arms from skin picking, a lovely anxiety habit. Just a few but it’s the most unattractive thing ever. It’s harder to quit than smoking. On the plus side, I recently grew a beard to hide my weak chin. So let’s say that today I’m a 4.

But in spite of all this I said to myself: I am not scared of this girl. When she started talking about her many ‘accomplishments’ like her job, or her high status family (prof dad), or her many ap credits… I refused to compliment her. I actually pitied her, since it seems likely that she’s high achieving and will become a professional lady or something similar that makes her unhappy and prices her out of the marriage market.

She started twisting her hair. It was a little anxiety habit–kind of like my skin picking, except cute and girly and not destructive. In the past I would have just said to myself: hair twisting is nothing compared to the shit you do to yourself. But…I thought maybe it might be fun to neg her. “I should grow out my hair,” I said, “so I can twist it.” She apologized about her hair twisting. She started apologizing about all kinds of stuff, actually. She drank too much coffee and was really jittery. She had a ‘long day’ filled with her many accomplishments in life and her brain was ‘fried’. I told her she only had to keep it together for another hour and a half. She cracked her joints and I smiled and looked at her. She demured and I chuckled and mentioned that, when I was young, someone told me that would ruin my joints. But that ‘probably isn’t true. People tell kids lots of things.” Plenty of eye contact. Didn’t cross my legs in a girly way like I always do.

I wasn’t exactly making no mistakes here. I didn’t touch her. I accidentally spoke frankly about my chances for grad school. I asked about her wavy hair, figuring it HAD to be a perm or something. “Is your hair naturally curly?” I asked. It was, in fact, naturally curly and beautiful like Aphrodite’s might be if she were a brunette. “Not as curly as mine.” I responded, trying to ameliorate a body-directed compliment but accidentally calling attention to my curly red hair, a bit of a deficiency. Double mistake. I told her that I found her spanish fluency impressive–which I did, having struggled to learn a language myself. I thought that was bad at the time, but in retrospect complimenting beautiful women on their intellectual achievements isn’t as bad as complimenting them on their hair.

We did some practice runs of the presentation. I was a much, much better speaker than she was. By the time we were ready to leave she was giggling and falling all over herself. All bubbly smiles and eye contact and apologies.  Was she trying to DHV…to ME? Did she really just forget how impressive she was on every level: her perfect body, her high class, her raw intelligence? Could she not see that I am a bit of a classical loser, which is practically an image I’ve embraced and cultivated like she has being beautiful and smart? I was just…dumbfounded. I am awful at is reading female body language–you can’t understand a language without studying it or being immersed–so I don’t know if she was attracted to me or merely not repulsed by me, but I don’t believe I’ve ever been alone in a room with a ten for that long without it ending in cool businesslike contempt. I’ll ask her out to coffee and we’ll find out, I guess.

So thanks for saving my confidence and helping me start to heal my terrible breakup. Keep up the good work. It’s been eye opening.

The biggest difference between men and women in the dating market? A man can talk away his ugly face. A woman cannot. The reader is learning this valuable lesson, and like others before him who have trod the same path of game knowledge, he almost cannot believe the girl’s reaction he sees with his own eyes.

All the negs and teasing employed by this emailer were excellent: not too obviously insulting, with just the right amount of sting. I especially liked when he told her to “try to keep it together for an hour and a half”. Commanding, insouciant, fearless, funny. Chick crack, iow.

Pitying a woman, or lamenting her childishness and naivete, are actually very good frames to have when dealing with hot chicks. This frame is supercilious without being spiteful or hateful. A haughty disdain leavened with bemusement is a character trait that women find irresistible in men. It is the hallmark of alpha males. You could almost call it charisma.

But, unfortunately, I predict this emailer will not ask her out for coffee. (And, helpful tip, you should be taking a girl out for alcoholic beverages if possible, instead of coffee. You don’t want coffee to mentally stimulate her recall of her 463 bullet point checklist.) That “I guess” toward the end of his missive is a dead giveaway of untamed betatude. You guess? No, sir, you don’t guess. You reach down, cradle your gargantuan balls with lovingkindness, and gently coo to them “Thing 1? Thing 2? I’m letting you out of your cage again. Try not to get me in too much trouble.”

Footnote: “Not as curly as mine” was not a mistake. It was, in fact, quite an effective compliment-neutering counterattack. Remember, when you call attention to a possible flaw in a woman’s appearance or style that inadvertently highlights one of your own flaws, she’ll be too busy vaingloriously fretting to even notice what the hell flaw of yours you were concerned about. Or if she does notice and shit tests you over it, it will only serve as convenient conversational springboard to demonstrate your cool-as-fuck bona fides.

Anyhow, glad this blog is helping your dating life. Now you can stop bolding the words loser and glasses. It’s killing your inner resolve. A bolded word is a window to the id.

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The Mainstream Media Is Beginning To Accept The Truth Of Game

Yahoo, one of the most MSM-y of the MSM outlets, has a dating advice column that lifts techniques straight from the game literature. In order to stay ahead of the PC police, the author couches it in terms of attracting either men or women, but the reality well-known to those who are actually out there mud-deep in the scrum of the sexual market is that these courtship tactics are more effective when used on women. (Ladies, the only techniques you need to attract men for sex are the following: look hot. To attract men for love, you’ll need more than a young pretty face, but that is a discussion for another day.)

Flattery strategy #1: Get specific with your praise
Since daters often feel like they’re just one amongst a parade of people having coffee with you, demonstrate some genuine interest in the next one you meet to help erase that fear. “We studied the relationship between reciprocity and romance and found that if someone thinks you’re attracted to him or her, it increases that person’s attraction to you,” says Eli Finkel, Ph.D., a psychology professor at Northwestern University. [Ed: This is misleading. The studies on reciprocity clearly indicate that while women are attracted to men they think are attracted to them, women are *more* attracted to men for whom they are uncertain about the men’s attraction to them.] On the other hand, “If someone’s attracted to you but getting the sense that you’re attracted to lots of other people, he or she will tend to dislike you.” The upshot? Prove you’re picky (and that this person fits your high criteria). Then you’re well on your way to making this potential amour pick you, too. Reread his or her profile right before you meet up and tell your date exactly why it stood out from the rest and what you noticed first. And nix any mentions of past bad dates or other negative experiences, which can make it inadvertently seem like you’ll give anyone the time of day.

Game concept stolen: Qualification.

Flattery strategy #2: Create insider info between the two of you
You don’t have to be old friends to cultivate a comfortable rapport with someone. “Make references to things you’ve discussed or emailed about,” says dating coach Annie Dennison, Ph.D. “It creates a sense of intimacy and shows your date you’re really listening.” To really drive home that you find your date fascinating, ask for more information on details he or she mentioned in passing (“I know you like Jay-Z. Which album of his do you think I should download?”). Or tie together stories (yours or your date’s) with a follow-up line like, “Wow, that reminds me of what you were telling me about your trip to Costa Rica/your overbearing boss/football obsession.”

Game concept stolen: Secret world. (Most of the attendant advice in this paragraph is shitty, but the core concept is spot on.)

Flattery strategy #3: Congratulate your date
If you want your sweetie to really beam, show you’re impressed by a feat that he or she is especially proud of. “We did a study and found that when people told others about something good that happened to them and the person responded positively, it improved the whole experience,” Shelly Gable, Ph.D., professor of psychology at the University of California, Santa Barbara. So don’t just say “Cool!” when your date mentions a win like getting into grad school, finishing a 10K, or just getting an amazing deal at an outlet store. Get into it and ask what he felt when he got the news, how she reacted, which person he told first, or how long she’d been hoping for it to happen. Answering the questions will let your date relive some of the excitement — and associate you with an unexpectedly happy buzz.

Game concept stolen: Emotional connection. (Ignore the part about congratulating her. Just ask leading questions that get her emotions traveling in the right, i.e. sexual, direction.)

Flattery strategy #4: Compliment qualities that are unrelated to [her] looks
When you admire a not-so-obvious trait that your date has, it makes you seem super-insightful. An easy place to start is by connecting his or her job to a quality you appreciate. Tell an accountant that you’re always especially envious of detail-oriented people; tell a teacher you’re in awe of those who can motivate others. If you like what your date is wearing or how this person decorated his or her home, “don’t compliment the ‘thing’ — anyone can buy a thing — but call out what it says about him or her,” says Susan Rabin, author of Lucky in Love. Instead of the tie itself, praise the person’s individual style; instead of muttering “nice couch,” say you’re wowed by people who have an eye for color and design.

Game concept stolen: Ignore her beauty. Women want to think you are an exceptional man because you notice things about them most men don’t. A more cynical explanation: a man who isn’t affected by a woman’s looks is an alpha male who likely has lots of experience bedding women. And chicks dig preselected men.

Flattery Strategy #5: Emphasize your date’s name in your verbal responses

Game concept stolen: N/A. This advice only matters within context. Don’t blurt out a girl’s name until she has earned your recognition by asking you for your name first, and using it within a sentence.

Flattery strategy #6: Playfully tease your date
If you saw The Departed, you probably remember the scene when Matt Damon asks his date something like: “What makes you think I want a second date with you?” — then bursts out laughing. It turns out those childhood playground tormentors (“Ewww, you have cooties!”) were onto something. “Thinking someone is attracted to you is great, but our research also suggests that not being sure about it actually heightens the excitement,” says grad student Paul Eastwick, Finkel’s research partner at the Northwestern Relationships Lab. Hearing that kind of rejection can spike feelings of anxiety — then fill you with relief when you realize it was a gag. So if you’re sure your date has a good sense of humor, give him or her a little ribbing first: “Oh no, you’re an Aquarius? Shoot, I have a rule about that.” Not only do you get to have an instant inside joke, it sends a subtle message that you’re into your date enough to be comfortable joking about it. Just make sure you don’t tease about something the person’s sensitive about — that’s not flirting; that’s an insult.

Game concept stolen: The neg.

Welcome aboard, MSM! Glad to see you are reading sites like this blog and imbibing its wisdom. Who knows what you’re capable of now! Perhaps an honest look at the negative externalities of mass third world migration. Or tough, no-nonsense reporting about innate sex differences in athletic program participation and upper management representation. The world is your oyster.

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Feedback Of The Week

PA writes:

Speaking of “test of your Game”, one thing that had always tripped me up was when women made self-deprecating comments about their own looks. It’s a sneaky shit-test. So several months ago I asked R. how to respond to that. He suggested saying back to the woman “have you always been this vain?”

I was talking with a woman at work today, who made such a self-deprecating comment. For a moment I went blank — what the fuck do you say back to that — and then I recalled that exchange. So I said “have you always been this vain” in response, and her eyes lit up.  Excellent.

If a fat or ugly chick makes a self-deprecating comment, she’s fishing for sympathy. If a hot chick makes a self-deprecating comment, she’s flushing out overeager betaness. Either way, you lose by responding with typical mangina consolation; the fat chick starts to think you like her, or the hot chick thinks you’re an asexual niceguy.

First Rule of Game Club: Do not act like a gullible mangina.

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An Old Chateau Concept Confirmed By Science

Years ago, the writers of this blog made the bold and controversial assertion that female economic empowerment and growing government largesse were helping to fuel the desire of women to ride the alpha cock carousel in their 20s, only to settle down with a beta provider later in life when their sexual peak had been passed.

Bleeding heart compassion has cursed blessed the country with layers of safety nets that subvert the natural cleansing of losers from contributing to the next generation. The result of all this government largesse is the substitution of handouts for husbands. When provider males who are predisposed to marry and support a family are worth less on the market than they used to be they are slowly replaced by playboys taking advantage of the sexual climate. Women who have their security needs met by Big Government (in combination with their own economic empowerment) begin to favor their desire for sexy, noncommital alpha males at the expense of their attraction for men who will foot the bills.

Prediction: As women’s financial status rises to levels at or above the available men in their social sphere, they will have great difficulty finding an acceptable long-term partner. The men, for their part, will turn away from emphasizing their ability to provide as they discover their mediocre-paying corporate jobs are no longer effective displays of mating value. They will instead emphasize the skills of “personality dominance”.

This blog = perceptive. Prophetic, even. Now science has come around to the Chateau point of view with a new study that shows women with money problems prefer softer, beta men who would make good resource provider candidates.

Those [women] primed to worry about their finances showed the least interest in the macho men, the Royal Society journal Biology Letters reports.

This, according to the Australian researchers, suggests that when money is short women are attracted to gentler types, who are seen as good providers and more likely to stick around when times are tough.

The macho men, however, were most attractive to the women made to worry about their health.

This may be because masculinity can be a sign of good genes – and a man who will give a woman strong and healthy children.

The researchers concluded there are evolutionary advantages in a woman’s taste in men being flexible.

This would allow women ‘to adapt their preferences to rapid changes in the environment such as pathogen outbreak or a famine’, they said.

Or to adapt their preferences to rapid changes in the environment such as the introduction of the Pill, feminism and economic self-sufficiency.

So here we have scientific evidence proving a core Chateau concept that women who are materially comfortable — as many women became after their assault on the workforce and colleges beginning in the 1970s — are less likely to seek out beta providers and more likely to indulge their hypergamous drives and sex it up with studly alpha cads; that is, until Father Time cruelly etches the first of his brandings on delicate, feminine faces. This would go a long way to explaining why age of first marriage has been steadily climbing since 1970; more years devoted to schooling to make the middle class money, yes, but also more years to slut it up with the high status alphas women truly desire but don’t need for material resource procurement.

Women who missed the big feminist bandwagon of the last 40 years and didn’t go to college or make a decent salary are the ones who pine for gentle, beta herbs to take them under their wing and provide a home, food and shopping money. So feminism has indeed been a boon for alpha males who want sex on the cheap with a harem of hypergamous concubines, and a living hell for betas who have been left out in the cold, waiting their turn for the ladies to age into their late 20s and 30s before getting a chance to drop on bended knee for the last ditch lock-up.

Also of note: Women who worried about health problems were attracted to the masculine studs. So if you are an alpha male with game and a goal to bed as many women as possible before kicking off, your best bet is to target hypochondriac careerist chicks.

If you are a beta male who would love nothing more than to snuggle after gently executed missionary sex and debate which color to paint the foyer, your best bet is to target in-shape athletic women who come from poor families and have crappy jobs.

Best,

Yours in politically incorrect but bracingly truthful dating advice.

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A Father’s Question

First, thank you for the excellent blog.

The writing, content, and resulting purposeful applications are first rate.  You attract much insightful, interesting, and humorous content, too.  Please keep up the good work.

On to my question:  so, I am a dad and wondering, with Father’s Day 2011 just around the corner, your thoughts on how, when, and at what rate should matters of game be introduced to your male offspring?

I did read this:

https://heartiste.wordpress.com/2011/03/29/why-game-is-important-for-fathers/

It made my heart ache.

My son and I frequently go about town alone.  Dining together.  Talking to the people around us.  Looking them in the eye at all times.  Assessing strangers at other tables and trying to read them based upon what we observe.  He and I scored girls in the mall a few weeks back.  He is only 10.  I’m not going to rush him into things, but want to give him the tools and tactics to use when he is ready.  I don’t have a great playbook for rearing him, but I do want him to lead his life and not the other way around.  Any feedback and thoughts would be appreciated.

How, when, and at what rate to introduce game to your son? A few classic Chateau thoughts on the matter are here.

To my son:  You will learn how to say Hi to girls before the age of 16 if it kills you.  There will be no Star Trek or Lord of the Rings posters in your room.  You will instead have Helmut Newton photographs hanging on your walls and a copy of Mystery Method.  I will treat the family dog better than you if you major in anything that doesn’t ensure a salary high enough to keep you from grubbing off me.  Learn how to throw a punch.  If you turn out gay, don’t ever bring your “boyfriend” around me.  Certain things are best left in the realm of the abstract.

Finally…

if I find out your mother was a two-timing whore and you are not my kid, you will never hear from me again.  Kindly direct all your rage her way.

I’m glad to see you’re taking your son out and showing him the ropes. As a father, you have no more important duty than guiding your son on the path of alphadom. What greater gift can a father give his son than the knowledge and example he needs to navigate the initially confusing world of women, and to live as a free man in an increasingly corporatized, feminized, Orwellian world?

You want to introduce game concepts to your son now, as he’s hitting his teenage years. Your first forays into this dark knowledge should be couched in terms a kid can relate to, i.e., lay off the sex talk and arid evo psych theories. Tell him that girls are different from boys and that this will matter as he gets older and starts to like them.

In your specific case, it seems as if your son is maturing early, if he’s “scoring” girls at age 10. He probably knows the basics at this point? If that’s so, then you can go to the next stage, where you analyze specific female behaviors and make them relevant to him. For instance, he might complain about a girl who only likes him when he’s mean to her, and he doesn’t understand why. You can then segue into a discussion about why girls like that sort of attitude from boys, and how he can have that attitude but still grow up to be a good man.

Note: Do not ever fall back on the typical beta herb father response of “Well, son, women are a mystery. You’ll find that out soon enough.” That’s the cheap and easy way out, and prepares him for nothing. Patiently explain WHY women are the way they are, that women aren’t really mysterious at all, it just seems that way because they think differently than men. Remind him, too, that men seem mysterious to women, so the confusion goes both ways. The whole “mystery” cop-out is just another form of female pedestalization.

As he’s becoming more aware of true female nature, there is a risk his young mind and heart will slip into cynicism and disgust for girls. Don’t let that happen. Remind him that, though the world works this way, there is no reason to let it get him down. There are some rules to follow, but the game itself is still a lot of fun, and nothing feels better than falling in love with a girl who loves you back. (Abstain from discussions of “love” until he’s well into his teens. A 10 year old is likely to turn up his nose at that.)

As his mind matures (age 16 or so), begin introducing him to the literature and science that scaffolds game concepts. You can start with this blog and these resources. If he’s anything like a normal heterosexual man, his eyes will widen with wonder when he first reads this forbidden knowledge. This is a critical juncture. If you have not laid the groundwork, a sudden infusion of game material can send him careening through a labyrinth of haphazard self-discovery, his journey littered with dangerous risks and broken hearts. You must start his reality education NOW if you want him to put the future knowledge to good use. An unanchored padawan is a light saber duel away from joining the Sith.

The rate he should learn this stuff will largely be up to him. Once the floodgates open, he’ll likely seek out further knowledge on his own, without your guidance. The internet guarantees that the window for active parental guidance is smaller now than it has ever been. That’s why you must begin your teachings before he gets to high school.

As a responsible father the setbacks you most want your son to avoid are:

Oneitis.
LJBF.
Surprise dumpings.
Grinding celibacy.
Divorce.
Marriage to an ugly feminist.

Give him the knowledge and tools to circumvent those unhappy fates and the wisdom of your experience and you will be a hero to him for life.

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My First Experience With Game

I had two first experiences with game. The earlier one was unintentional, the later one was a deliberate execution.

In ninth grade a curly-haired girl had a crush on me. I didn’t know this at the time, mostly because my attention was diverted to my own crush, a brunette with a righteous ass and hair so shiny it looked like it was polished.

Curly-haired girl invited me to a party at her parents’ house. In her basement with about fifteen other classmates, we listened to music (no drinking) and laughed a lot. She giggled around me and was constantly breaking away from the main group to come over and talk to me in private.

In an act of cruelty only a young man oblivious to the repercussions of his actions could achieve, I remember asking her if shiny-haired girl was coming to her party. Assuming I came to her party because I wanted to reciprocate her feelings, she stammered and blushed at this jarring question, before answering no.

“Ok, no big deal,” I replied.

I wasn’t paying much attention to her reaction, but if I had been I’m sure I would have noticed her heart fall to the floor.

The next week, curly-haired girl passed a note to me in the cafeteria. (It went through about three girls’ hands before landing next to my lunch.) It was a stick figure drawing of her face (or maybe it was mine, hard to tell) with a heart over the head. Underneath, she wrote that she liked hanging out with me.

She was a cute girl, but at that age infatuations grip one’s focus to the exclusion of all other girls. I was crushing on shiny-haired girl and no other girl would do, and that’s that. Luckily, I grew out of it by tenth grade. It’s strange, but evolution has designed men to be more pedestalizing when they are young. Some men never grow out of it. This is a gender flaw of malehood, and one that should be rectified by wise fathers. If I had a son in high school, I would tell him to put his crushes in perspective and enjoy the company of the hundreds of equally cute girls who roam his high school halls, lest he risk turning into a sniveling beta once the cold, harsh real world comes calling.

The above was my first foray into aloof, indifferent take-away game, and holy shit did it work. Curly-haired girl nursed a crush on me right through senior year.

***

My first experience with calculated, conscious game happened at an outdoor cafe. She approached with a mutual group of friends to be introduced to me. She was hot as balls. Slender, tall, chiseled cheekbones like a model, pert tits, and dressed in a very sexy black dress.

I was taken aback. She was a hard 9. Incredibly, she was sweet-natured as well. Very easy to talk to.

Through sheer fortitude, and with some help from being socially proofed, we spent the night together chatting. I was new to the game — the schematic, systematized game, not the organic game that I had been running for years by mimicking naturals and avoiding pitfalls based on personal experience — and when she asked if I would be joining her and her two friends who were planning to split off to go to a different venue, I remembered what I learned and declined the invitation. Following a girl around town like a puppy dog, no matter how well the conversation is going, is a seduction-killer.

My friends gave me a hard time for turning down a night with a bonafide hottie, but I knew better. “Patience,” I told them. “You’ll soon see magic.”

A few days later I called her and arranged a date. Then, a day before the date, I canceled, offering a plausible excuse, though I had no good reason to do so. A week later, I called again to reschedule the date we never had, and she expressed shock that I would call her.

“I thought you weren’t interested. You canceled our date.”

I ignored the stinky bait and set up a meeting at a local pool hall.

I bounced her to three different locations during the date. I knew this was the smart play based on what I had read in the game literature. “Time distortion”, the players called it. Bouncing causes a girl to think she has spent more time with you than she actually has, which in turn makes her more comfortable with you and riper for the sexing.

Later that night, I took her to an outdoor spot to watch the stars twinkle. It was summer, and the warm night air beckoned. As we sat there gazing at the sky, the conversation became deeper, filled with anticipated meaning. During this stage of the seduction, I prepared to execute one psychologically brutal mindfuck in the form of a take-away. I knew I had to do this because such a hot girl was likely a pro at transitioning suitors into the friend zone. I had to disabuse her of any urge she might feel to do that to me.

Somewhere in the midst of our conversation about the value of long term relationships, I asserted, “I’m independent, I value my freedom.” I made sure to say this with retreating body language. I moved my arm off her back and leaned away.

She didn’t respond to that, but seemed chastened a bit.

I dropped her off at her house, where I fingerbanged her in my car. We were together for two years.

***

Men who learn game experience two revelations. One, they are amazed how well it works once they begin to apply it. Two, they remember all those past moments with girls on whom they had run game unknowingly, and the reason for their successes becomes illuminated as if it were etched on stone tablets and handed down from god.

While I had some rudimentary natural skills with women, once I learned systematized game — the science of seduction — I stepped onto an accelerated track to pleasures I couldn’t believe were available for the taking. There’s been no looking back since.

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