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Archive for the ‘Vanity’ Category

A while back, this Chateau post caused veins to bulge on the foreheads of haters. It was about instilling the dread of an impending breakup or loss of interest to promote a healthy relationship.

Women respond viscerally in their vagina area to unpredictability, mixed signals, danger, and drama in spite of their best efforts to convince themselves otherwise. Managing your relationship in such a way that she is left with a constant, gnawing feeling of impending doom will do more for your cause than all the Valentine’s Day cards and expertly performed tongue love in the world. Like it or not, the threat of a looming breakup, whether the facts justify it or not, will spin her into a paranoid estrogen-fueled tizzy, and she’ll spend every waking second thinking about you, thinking about the relationship, thinking about how to fix it. Her love for you will blossom under these conditions. Result: she works harder to please you.

The key for the man is to adopt a posture of blase emotional distance alternated with loving tenderness. Too much of either and she’ll run off.

Oh, how the haters swooned with indignation over my helpful advice. “You’re such a jokester”, said the disbelievers, somewhat nervously. “That’s a good way to end a relationship prematurely”, said the dating advice columnists. “It only works on girls with low self esteem”, said the shibboleth spouters.

Well, well, welly welly well… look what we have here!

Uncertainty Can Increase Romantic Attraction.

This research qualifies a social psychological truism: that people like others who like them (the reciprocity principle). College women viewed the Facebook profiles of four male students who had previously seen their profiles. They were told that the men (a) liked them a lot, (b) liked them only an average amount, or (c) liked them either a lot or an average amount (uncertain condition). Comparison of the first two conditions yielded results consistent with the reciprocity principle. Participants were more attracted to men who liked them a lot than to men who liked them an average amount. Results for the uncertain condition, however, were consistent with research on the pleasures of uncertainty. Participants in the uncertain condition were most attracted to the men-even more attracted than were participants who were told that the men liked them a lot. Uncertain participants reported thinking about the men the most, and this increased their attraction toward the men.

This study’s results confirm the “Dread” post to the letter, although I used slightly more… ornamental… language to get the point across. (Consider my methods a social experiment  — a sort of crisis and observation — designed to get under the skin, with exquisite pain amplification, of those predisposed to hate the message here, and to observe how many of you can handle the truth when it is stripped of all its sugarcoating.)

I don’t need the science to certify what I can already see with my own two eyes, but it’s nice to have it so that I can do the happy Snoopy dance and throw it in the faces of the usual tard crew. Weep those tears of unfathomable sadness, femcunts and nancyboys.

Naturally, some skirt-twirling teacups will chime in and attempt to muddy the waters by caviling about how men are susceptible to uncertainty game as well, while neglecting to mention the difference in degree between the sexes. Sure, men can fall for the Chateau patented dread psy ops, but they don’t fall for it nearly as often, or with the same intensity, as do women. Vulnerability to dread game is predominantly a female phenomenon.

Chateau Motto (posted at the gate):
Come for the truth, stay for the mindfucking of your enemies.

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Or do they coincidentally agree with the worldview espoused here at the Chateau?

Over two years ago, a post at this blog was written which compared the alphaness of George Bush and Vlad Putin. The coveted Alpha Male Smirk trophy went to Putin.

Now news comes from the infamous WikiLeaks documents that U.S. diplomats have tagged Putin with the alpha male designation.

US diplomats refer to Russian PresidentDmitry Medvedev as a hesitant leader and Prime Minister Vladimir Putin as an “alpha male,” Kommersant reported on Monday citing documents released by WikiLeaks. […]

“The Americans call the Russian President Dmitry Medvedev pale and hesitant, and Prime Minister Vladimir Putin an alpha male,” the newspaper wrote.

Do we here at the Chateau have our fingers on the pulse of high stakes diplomacy, or does the elite have its fingers on the pulse of the Chateau? Either way, it’s good to see the ruling class belie their paeans to nuance in favor of embracing the dispiriting truths of reductionism behind closed doors.

So what does Putin think of all this hubbub?

Putin’s spokesman meanwhile told the daily that it was premature to take the reported character portraits too seriously.

“We have to wait and see what level of diplomats made these comments, and in what documents they appear,” spokesman Dmitry Peskov told the daily.

He likes it.

The alpha male/beta male dichotomy is triumphant across the world, from low stations to high, for good or ill. The lamentations of the equivocating hairsplitters and the rearguard “greater purpose” spiritualists are music to the ears.

If this blog were an apple it would be a granny smith — tart but refreshing.

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I have this friend, a girl, who is a total attention whore. Fittingly, she would glow with pride at being called that. As a cute, young single girl without brat baggage and of slender proportions and flirtatious disposition, she usually has some beta or two wrapped around her finger at any given time. You could accurately describe her as an eternal ingenue. She is always complaining about meeting men, yet she hardly goes a day without a “date”, i.e. some man willing to do her a favor for the reward of a three minute makeout. But no sex. Never sex! Oh no, there is hardly a man good enough for THAT prize. One time, a bread pudding excuse of a man who had been on three dry dates with her over the course of six months drove an hour and a half from out of town to drive her to an appointment she had only a few blocks from where she lived. She didn’t want to spend the money on a cab. Naturally, when she called him she framed it as a “chance for me and you to get together and hang”. And just as naturally, he bit down on that stinky bait. I bet he furiously masturbated on the drive over with thoughts of what he fantasized would happen.

Yes, there really are girls like this, and yes there really are… ahem… “men” who fall for the shit girls like this pull.

If it isn’t obvious by now, this girl is the succubus that strikes fear, loathing and lust in the hearts of betas everywhere. She is your worst nightmare; the epitome of every self-entitled pedestaled princess bitch we talk about here at this exclusive Chateau. When Satan made the mold for the quintessential cockteasing attention whore, she poured out.

And yet I like her. She’s a lot of fun to be around. I dig her style. Since I’m not interested in her as a potential lover, her games have no effect on me. Her manipulations of men who chase after her is something I can observe from a third party distance, with raised eyebrow and gleeful smirk. She knows this, and of course it drives her to distraction around me. I may be the only man in her life, besides her long term ex-boyfriend, who calls her bluff and swats aside her shit tests. Thus, I have earned her trust and confidence.

While my instinctual sympathies lie with her smitten suckers suitors, I don’t blame her for playing them like puppets. If I were in her shoes, I would take advantage of those needy losers, too. I don’t care how cute a girl is, if she asks you to do some outrageous favor for her — like driving an hour and a half to chauffeur her to an appointment just because she asked — for no sex in return, you are a chump.

A mark.

A dupe.

A fool.

A beta.

In this day and age, it is amazing there are so many men who think that supplication is the magic key to her secret garden. The Chateau has been in business for over three years, and yet the tidal wave of betas who fail at the most elementary concepts of female sexual psychology continues rolling on, crushing hopes and dreams and blue balls like so many beachfront tiki bars.

So one day, Queen of the Cockteases asks me a question. She was hanging on my arm, partly drunk.

“I keep pushing men away. I find them, and go out with them, and then they disappear! Seriously, real question. What am I doing wrong?”

“I haven’t noticed any men disappearing. Didn’t some dude just buy you tickets to a play and invite you to his shore house?”

“Oh, that. Yeah, but that’s not something. I mean the guys I like.”

“Poor bastard.”

“Are you going to help me? I want so bad to be your friend. We can be good friends if you just try with me.”

“You’re a basketcase after a few Shirley Temples.” For a moment, I thought about going hardcore on her ego and edifying her with the lessons gleaned from evo psych and game, but I was tired and not in the mood to talk much. Plus, I doubted it would register. I kept it light instead. “Stop going up to men. Let them come to you.”

“Why? If I like a guy I want to meet him.”

“Yeah, that’s great, but guys like to chase. If you approach them first, they will downgrade you. We give more value to girls who play a little coy.”

“And if he doesn’t approach me?”

“Suck it up. You can’t have every man in the world. Look, most likely you are approaching the top guys, the ones you think are the best. A guy like that has options. All he sees is a chick who has just showed she really likes him, which means sex is only a few drinks away. But you’re a major cocktease, so when they realize that it isn’t happening, they bolt.”

“Hey, I’m not that kind of girl.”

“We all know that. But they don’t. If a guy comes up to you first, he’s more likely to stick around putting up with your bullshit. But then you have the problem of wanting guys to chase you, but only respecting guys who don’t. That’s why you go up to them first and flirt like crazy. If the guy approaches you, you think he’s not worthy.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you only get horny for guys you have to chase. You’re the classic example of a girl who wants what she can’t have.”

“That’s not true. I don’t waste my time with guys who don’t like me.”

“I can tell you really need an asshole in your life.”

Communication on the subject was done by that point. On certain matters, a woman’s brain simply can’t process in any internally logical way the implications of the discussion. Her biosocial female imperative is one of those matters. Try it some time. Explain to a girl why she behaves the way she does with men and watch as her eyes glaze over with incomprehension or she lashes out in fury at you for rattling the peace of her inner hamster sanctum. You can get girls to nod in agreement with you, as long as you don’t make them the subject of your elucidation. Girls have a habit of perceiving conversations about abstractions personally, and won’t abide finger pointing in their direction. The solution is to explain human social dynamics in terms that will spare her ego.

A cocktease is an older term for an attention whore. They are one and the same psychologically; only the details of execution differ. The cocktease’s ideal man would be someone she approaches first, but who doesn’t flirt back. He just stands there being amused by her antics, making her work harder and harder for his attention, until his value is outsized in her mind. One step forward, two steps back, is his motto for dealing with cockteases. And then when the time is ripe, he pushes hard for the close, leaving her little head space to rationalize yet another coquettish escape.

Unfortunately, the Western world is full of chauffeuring betas pumping princess egos the land over. For men in the know, like you and me and hopefully the rest of the readers of this site, this means the girls we meet have been pre-primed to act like selfish, self-loving brats. These special snowflakes and their boot-licking beta enablers both are our insufferable foes. Chastise the one and you must chastise the other. Nothing of worth operates in a vacuum.

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An emailer writes:

My girlfriend of two years sent me this text last evening: “My ma says that we aren’t going to last forever bc you’re just settling with me.”

My response this morning: “Ridiculous. You’ll always have a prominent place in my harem, babe.”

It goes without saying that in the past I would have responded with something along the lines of: “No, babe, we’ll be together forever” or some such lackadaisical retort. After being initiated beyond the level of neophyte in the crimson arts, however, I pass shit tests like an East Asian passes advanced Calc.

Strong, the alpha is in this one. His response was a combination of agree and amplify game and sarcastic disqualification.

Commenter dilla writes:

Couldn’t figure out how to send an e-mail, so I thought I’d post this prime example of a shit test.

Texting:

me: hey lets go for that drink tomorrow

her: hi!! I actually already have plans, sorry
(note no attempt to reschedule)

me: gay.

her: my brother is gay but I suppose this is gay too.
(shittest. chances were good she was bs’ing, but you have to assume shes not)

me: oh ya? so is my cousin we should hook them up
(lie)

her: haha! I was just kidding, i just wanted to see how you would react
(skank. but she might as well be telling me shes down for the cause)

me: my cousin will be disappointed. when are you free this week

A beta would have backpedaled and reflexively apologized. Dilla knew better.

Reader Sonso emails:

The pain of a girl getting flaked on.

So I had plans to meet a girl between 10 and 11AM. She lives about an hour and a half outside my city, but had to come in early to take care of some things and would be free at that time.

At 10:30 I get a text saying ”I’m just leaving my place now,” so I go and meet up with some friends instead. At around 1:30 I get a call asking if I was still around, and said I was. She said she was coming, but my phone died before she arrived.

The next day I get a message saying ”I hate you!”.

If a man ever sent a message to a girl saying ”I hate you!” after a flake, how quickly that snatch would snap closed…

This is more accurately described as an example of not taking blatant shit from a girl, rather than passing a flirtatious shit test. The two are related, as your response to either will determine how she perceives your attractiveness. “I hate you!” is girlcode for “I hate you for making my gina buzz like a hornets’ nest!”. Sonso should try again with this girl in about a week, but even if it leads nowhere he will have the satisfaction of knowing he retained his dignity and got under her skin.

My readers are starting to get it. Do you?

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The night was late. I was killing her softly with a tune I began playing on my guitar. She eased back, ensconced in the plush cushions of my sofa, and her eyelids lowered a bit as I strummed my grandioso opus for her ears only. A content smile warmed her face and she interrupted me when I paused to work out a chord.

“You look so serious when you play. I like it.”

My serious concentration took a break as I turned to face her. She had lust in her eyes. She sat up and wrapped her arms around my shoudlers. We kissed.

I easily recalled her statement the next day because they reminded me of eerily similar statements said by past lovers in analogous circumstances. When I have redirected my attention from seducing women to performing a solo activity disengaged from their participation, they have responded in like manner —

“I love it when you’re so serious.”

What is going on here? I have a theory.

Women love two things: Passionate men who pursue their mission(s) in life with single-minded focus, and easily distracted men whose interests and hobbies are capable of diverting their attention from the wiles of women. The evolutionary reasons for this can be explained thus:

– Men on a mission who pursue goals with passion are better at securing resources and protection (survivial value) for the women in their lives. Women don’t consciously think this way, of course, but they don’t need to. All their genes care about is getting them to swoon for a man fully “locked in” on whatever challenge he is confronting or purpose he is fulfilling. The rest will take care of itself.

– Men who are easily distracted away from women’s beauty and women’s guile are attractive because they signal a high level of competence and familiarity with women (an “act like you’ve been there before” attitude) that suggests to women a history of success at bedding them. Men who are successful at bedding women bring high replicative value that redounds to the sexual success of any sons the women may have by them. This is why women love to chase after unattainable bad boys who’ve never paid for a dinner or given flowers in their lives.

Moral of this post: Get a hobby, any hobby (except video gaming or Civll War reenacting), and throw yourself into it. Make sure she occasionally sees your brow sweating with passionate single-mindedness. You don’t even have to be that good at it. Her libido will respond right on cue.

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Roosh’s post about the future of game brought to mind a trend in female behavior regarding girls and their self-perceived value shooting through the roof thanks to relentless male attention from social network sites and online dating.

Thought experiment: imagine two girls with an objective beauty rank of 6. Which girl will have a higher opinion of her attractiveness to men?

a. A rural girl without internet access who does not have an online presence and has only received flirtatious attention from a handful of men who live in her town?

b. A thoroughly modernized and plugged-in girl with a Facebook account that she posts photos to every day which gather comments from twenty different men, a Twitter account with a hundred male followers who read her every passing inane thought, and a Match.com online profile that receives emails from hundreds of horny men on a weekly basis?

You can see where this is going. It would be a miracle if girl (b) didn’t delude herself that she was a 7, or maybe even an 8, and behave accordingly. Conversely, there is a good chance girl (a) perceives herself having lower value than she does, because of the paucity of male feedback.

It’s long been a contention of this blog that a girl’s attractiveness level is objectively self-evident; that is, that girls intuitively know what their ranking is without men to offer feedback. They have mirrors after all. But because the female mind is a mushily pliable organ, and because so much of the female prefrontal cortex is immersed in the job of spinning self-delusions (spin hamster spin!), it stands to reason that a modern, technological context — within which instafame and the amplified sexual barter that flow from it are only a click away — could conceivably sever the holy link between mirror and female self-assessment.

There is evidence that this is happening today in the West on a scale unknown in all of history. Thanks to Facebook and all the online dating sites, women are the recipients of more male flattery and solicitude (however insincere or inept) than they know what to do with, and this is as true for the hotties as it is for the middling plain janes. (The ugly girls continue to find no relief in the celebritizing factory of the internet; their parched romantic ostracism remains intractable.) The result of this massive, all-encompassing meddling with the gluttonous female ego will be a dark pink world of entitled, demanding princesses holding unrealistic standards and bullet point checklists a mile long.

A woman come of age in this world is a ravenous beast who has had a tube of sunshine shoved up her asshole and an IV of Megan Fox attitude pumping her full of unicorn rainbow buttercup gas.

What sane man would want to deal with that?

Enter game. How do you handle a woman who thinks she is God’s gift to men?

You knock her bloated opinion of herself down a few notches.

And how do you do this?

You qualify her. You make demands of her. You extract compliance from her. You tease her. You neg her. You deny her expectations until her lust is so overpowering you may as well have paralyzed her with your supersecret magnum look.

In other words, you flip the seduction script so that she is chasing you.

Old-fashioned men who speak in stentorian tones about a man’s duty to god, family, country and his obligation to resist the pull of degenerate hedonism cannot fathom this steely-eyed view of seduction and women and why it is more necessary now than ever. It is all Greek to them. “Too late to start the training…”

The fame laboratory that is the internet has produced a generation of women high on themselves. Has there ever been a time when the neg — also formally known as the backhanded compliment — was more suited for the social milieu in which it operates than now? Obesity is to blame for game, yes, but now we can add another variable to the cause of the rise of game: online dating and social network sites. Want a recipe for maximizing marginally attractive women’s egos and fueling their self-delusions about their sexual worth? Combine an ever-fattening female population with the attention whoring of online social networking, mix liberally with desperately horny men latching onto any semi-slender chick, and you’ve got a dating scene that mercilessly cuts betaboys off at the knees and rewards the biggest jerks who are expert at pinpricking those inflated ego balloons.

If present trends are future projections, this crisis of the expanding female ego + waistline is only going to get worse. It is easy to foresee a toxic dating environment where the majority of girls — marbled throughout with chubsters — become unapproachable, ballbusting bitches who retreat to the reassuring confines of the online dating sites, Facebook, blogs and news magazines when their egos suffer a minor setback in the field.

*Field -noun
1. the world formerly known as real life; a world characterized by living, breathing humans aware of subtle changes in tone and facial expression.
2. a world notably free of duckbill poses.

Here is a prediction: the more women organize their lives around Facebook and online dating, the harder it will be to game them in real life. And the uglier that women get in body and soul, the more they will turn to the internet for their flattery fix. It’s a vicious feedback loop. You see, real life has some big disadvantages. One, it’s not as good at hiding physical flaws. Two, it’s an uncontrolled environment.

On Facebook, chicks can manage their human interactions with the precision of a German machinist. Every picture, every word, every like or dislike, the timing of replies and the length of ASCII conversations — all are under the user’s complete control in the virtual world. The uncertainties of fleshly communication, with its judging eyes scanning bodies top to bottom and its unexpected quips that shatter expectation, are rendered obsolete. In the electronic social networking world, the woman and her prerogatives are preeminent.

There is one countermeasure that can keep this growing monster in check: face to face interaction. Only when the 4s, 5s and 6s confront the vicious reality of men ignoring them in clubs and at parties for the hotter, skinnier babes, will we see their egos fall back to earth (and concurrently, their personalities improve). This is a call to arms. Men need to walk away from Facebook and online dating sites and force these chicks back into the harsh Klieg lights of the primal mating field where the frontlines of cold, pitiless judgement are everywhere. It is as much a man’s destiny to humble women as it is to build civilizations.

Want to intrigue a girlfriend until her love for you is all-consuming? Stay off Facebook. Refuse to abide her Craven New World.

A brutally long, hard economic contraction might restabilize the dating market. How ironic, given that our current troubles are largely the result of handing women the vote.

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The Chateau receives lots of requests from readers for recommendations on accoutrements that would best complement a master seducer’s lifestyle. Jewelry, home furnishings, bachelor pad props, clothes, shoes, Wii games (chicks love the Smash Bros.), etc…

In this post we will discuss the best car to drive if you want to fully round out your identity as a New World Womanizer.

Chicks dig power. Cars are power, so having a sweet ride will turn on chicks, particularly if your engine rumbles with horsepower. Cars are also fun in and of themselves. The ideal player car is one that embodies power, style and coolness. The good news is that you can get these three attributes in a car without spending a lot of money. You just have to be willing to buy an older car and assume the accompanying hassle of upkeep and repair.

The first two cars in this list are the low-cost options to attain cool power.

1991 Porsche 964 Cabriolet:

This Porsche will run you around $10K, give or take the condition of the car. Look at the sweep of those headlight chambers along the hood. Those are two penises aimed right at the soft, chewy center of a tart’s hole. Convertible a must. I don’t think Porsches have ever looked better than the 911 Carrera series from the late 80s to mid 90s.

1971 Ford Galaxie:

These old Ford Galaxies are a hot commodity right now, so expect to pay around $7K or $8K for one in decent condition. The 1966 model has been known to go for as much as $50K. A good thing about the Galaxie is that it has the badboy appeal of the Cadillac Eldorado minus the ghetto pimp factor. The aggressive, geometric heft of this car evokes the black monolith from “2001: A Space Odyssey”. Monkey proles will be throwing bones at you in tribute. Again, convertible is a must.

******

The next two cars are for players who have some cash to throw around on new vehicles. If you are mechanically inept and don’t want to deal with maintaining an older vehicle, then you will prefer these choices to maximize the mass and density of your ballsack and the number of babes that will stick to the hood.

Ford F-150:

Sure, it’s a little bit rednecky, but if you’re a SWPL what better way to stand out from the crowd of emo milquetoasts who surround you like flitting butterflies in their Priuses? If a hipster chick objects to your ride, just adopt a pose of ironic haughtiness. Rest assured her tingling vaj is betraying her sanctimony. This is because American pickup trucks are universally manly. End of discussion.

BMW 7-series:

If you want to drive in comfort and class and announce to the ladies you’ve arrived, this luxury model BMW is your choice. Equip with optional wet bar.

******

Finally, if you can swing the big bucks ($50K plus), then this is the alpha male car for you:

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