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The Scarlet C cuckservative label — Shiv of the Week winner — has really hit a bulls-eye, but what’s more interesting about the extended play body slam of weak whytes is what it illustrates about how semantic weapons work. There is Game in them thar hills, and CH prospectors find the shiniest nuggets.

Their protestations of indifference to the contrary notwithstanding, you know the cuckservative shiv has hit these mincing establishment pansies exemplified by the likes of Matt Lewis square in the deflated scrote. How do you know? I’ll tell you, boy. Look for two reactions.

1. The stuck pig squeals loudest.

Have you ever seen RINOs and their water carriers so incensed? The leftoid opposition toys with them daily and takes dumps in their gaped-mouthed faces, but nothing has riled them up like being called out for EXACTLY WHAT THEY ARE: puling suck-ups who’d sell their mother for one more pat on the head by a callow Ezra Klein.

2. Silent backpedaling.

Watch for cuckservatives to back off their inane, autonomic patter of prostration. If they do, that means the shiv cut deep and their lacerated subconscious bleeds into their conscious comfort zone. It’s a classic human urge when publicly shamed: denounce your shamers, insist on your dignity, but quietly pull back from the behavior that got you pegged (heh) as a poltroon.

In the coming election cycle, listen for ostensibly “””right wing””” candidates to gradually abandon their insipid leftoid-lite boilerplate. That “Shit Cuckservatives Say” page at the top of CH will serve as a reminder to them that the front lines are everywhere now. The pressure and incessant ridicule will keep them honest.

The Shitlib Zone

Somewhere in a hostile press room
There’s a cuck starting to realize
That sucking up has not worked out for him
It’s two A.M.

It’s two A.M. my honor’s gone
I’m sitting here waitin’ the stool still warm
Did you know that Lincoln was a Republican?

Yeah, my daughter’s burning coal, dindu in my bed
Bareback my nation, all community dead
Cannot realtalk, my whole life trained to be a toady

Help, I’m steppin’ into the shitlib zone
This is a bathhouse, feels like Lindsey’s home
My scrotum’s climbed up, under flabby gut
Where am I to go now that I’ve gone post-op?

Soon you will come to know
When the shiv has hit the bone
Soon you will come to know
When the shiv has hit the bone

I’m sticking to the Narrative, demographically doomed
Double crossed middle class gettin’ the screws
Can’t get no election, can’t get through
To Pablo’s crew

Well the cocktail parties ease his coward’s mind
He swears no child left behind!
When the third world comes
He knows damn well he’ll be retreating

And he says, “Help, I’m swishin’ into the shitlib zone
Place is a cookhouse, feels like Mexico
My nation’s been sold to Mark Fuckersperg
Where am I to go when the white vote’s submerged?”

Soon you will come to know
When the shiv has hit the bone
Soon you will come to know
When the shiv has hit the bone

When the shiv has hit the bone

{shredding break}

Help, I’m prancin’ into the shitlib zone
Place is a bathhouse, feels like anal fun
My dignity is gone, an eager tribute
Who’s gonna do the jobs that Americans won’t do?

Help, I’m cuckin’ into the shitlib zone
Place is a bathhouse, can’t stop being prone
My manhood’s been moved, under Jenner’s dress
How far am I to bend when they call me racist?

Soon you will come to know
When the shiv has hit the bone
Soon you will come to know
When CH has raped your soul

When the shiv has hit the bone, oo-ooga!
When the shiv has hit the bone
When the shiv has hit the bone, sha-lom!
When the shiv has hit the bone

wow wow wow wow just wow
wow wow just wowoooooowow

***

Are there any aspiring rock stars in the audience? Who wants to put this delectable revision to tape? You, sir? Glory awaits!

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Vapid shell entity Caitlin Dewey is at it again, snarkily uptalking in her late Millennial patois and squirting out mental masturbation material for bitter feminists left behind by a merciless sexual market. She links to a study which found that male Halo players who were losing the video game badly were aggressively hostile to female players and aggressively submissive to better male players.

Dewey uses the “””findings””” that are a little too conveniently friendly to feminist shibboleths to grind her cunty battle axe. Unfortunately for her religious tenets, the study is so flawed as to make it nearly self-debunking.

Nowhere in the linked source for the study did I see a reference to ages or races of the study participants. Were these all white kids trash talking what they thought were female teammates who were letting the team down? Or was there an unfortunate racial skew the study researchers felt disinclined to note?

And what about the ages of the male players? 12 years old, or 25 years old? This makes a huge difference. No one should be surprised when a 12-year-old boy lashes out at UGH GIRLS. But these natural and normal development behaviors of boys tend to dissipate by adulthood.

Here’s an ugly scientific and common-sensible truth with which the Caitlin Deweyettes of the SJW world should acquaint themselves: Sexist men are more attractive to women. Or, in urban SWPL ditz parlance, sexist men are QUITE LITERALLY winners.

Here’s a quote that will simultaneously trigger Caitlin’s man-hating ego and jerkboy-loving vagina.

And, in what is sure to be a shot straight to the flabby feminist gut, women are more sexually receptive to assertively sexist men.

Sexist men are socioeconomic winners and sociosexual winners. Women LOVE LOVE LOVE men who scoff at feminist poopytalk.

Now, this is not an endorsement of the 12-year-old boy variety of hostility to women. The sexist adult men who win women’s hearts are best classified as “benevolent sexists”; that is, they aren’t hostile to women; they are patronizing to women. Chicks dig a man with amused mastery. You know what chicks don’t dig, in the digging way that truly matters? Avowed male feminists sucking up to them at every turn.

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Reader PA provided a springboard for a post when he mused about the male archetypes found in the lyrics of love songs by female singers.

Love songs by female artists about each of VoxDay’s [male SMV] ranks.

Alpha – Carly Simon “You’re so Vain.” He’s a legend and a lady killer who always takes what he wants, he never wants it for too long, and she will never forget him.

Beta – Whitney Houston “All the Man that I Need.” The title alone tells you that he is not larger than life. But her physical and emotional satisfaction is total.

Delta – Taylor Swift “You Belong with Me.” He’s literally the boy next door. An attractive girl plays him, but a plain girl wants him.

Gamma – That was a tough one. How many girls sing love songs to John Scalzi? Best I can think of is Dolly Parton’s “Jolene.” A drab woman pleads for mercy to a seductress that wants to toy with her loser husband just because she can.

Omega – Concrete Blonde “Joey.” He is broke. He is drunk. He is laying in a pool of vomit. No, he is not Keith Richards.

Sigma – Heart “Magic Man.” Nobody can make heads or tails of the attraction; it’s like, WTF? But it’s like out of a dream.

Lambda – ?

I’ll assume a lambda is a gay. Have any female singers crooned about a gay man? Here’s one:

It was tough to dig up that video. For all the talk about women routinely falling for gay men unbeknownst, in reality most women have pretty good gaydars. At least the hardened urban slut cynics do.

One thing that’s interesting about female singers is that you can obliquely track changes in the sexual market by the themes of their songs. One big change has been the anhedonic increase in faux tankgrrl posturing by mainstream twat-rockers.

Women used to sing, authentically, about their vulnerability and heartbreak, often at the hands of callous badboys. Their songs reverberated with truth, because they sang with honest self-appraisal instead of posturing feminism. Even the “tough girls” of the past, like Pat Benatar, singing about daring a man to “hit me with your best shot” (i.e., game the living tingles outta her), aimed many of her punches at her own sternum.

Well you’re a real tough cookie with a long history
Of breaking little hearts, like the one in me

In the 90s, the GineVibe started to oscillate along an anti-human, pro-androgyne wavelength. The first fully-flowered feminist singers made man-hating propaganda a focal point of their songs. Many of these girlpower/girlvictimism songs were based on carefully constructed lies. (Tori Amos was never raped.)

Since then, the trend among female singers has been accelerating to more absurd and ridiculous phony Sandbergian “lean in” power postures. Today, we have the spectacle of fatties like Elle King (Deuce Bigalow’s daughter) singing about all the studs who can’t get enough of her doughgirl rolls and chase her around like puppy dogs.

Older, current female singers are in on the zeitgeist too. Sia boasts of her time on the party circuit and cock carousel as she hides her cracking face under a veil for live performances and calls it a symbolic blow against patriarchal oppression.

Even within female singers’ careers, there’s a trend away from honest self-assessment and feminine vulnerability toward chest-beating theatrics that would challenge the antics of the horniest male rocker. Taylor Swift morphed from a smitten, naive romantic to a fortified fembot “shaking it off”. Katy Perry roars, without a hint of irony. Miley Cyrus milks her femininity-disavowing sexual ambiguity for profit.

Female singers have started aping and co-opting the caricatured masculine themes of promiscuity, emotional distance (implied or revealed), and middle finger majesty, without any of the poetic discordance in feelings or slipped confessions of humility that male singers often drop into their songs.

It’s bizarro world with these aggrochicks, and it sells today. But why?

Maybe as a nation/country/world bazaar declines, its “””people””” need to cling evermore tightly to delusions about the sexes, about the races, about the classes, and about the tribes. And maybe that’s why we have the Elle Kings and neo-Taylor Swifts selling their fake-outs to millions of thirsty femme ears, to both transparently faux-bragging fatties and meekly acquiescing manlets alike.

Or, maybe the modern sexual market has become so alien to women — rife with jerkboys, betas, delayed marriage, childlessness, and Diversity-fueled social disconnection — that the only way they can comprehend it is to pretend to be like men, swinging their clitmores and hewing testicles for sport.

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Recall the Comedic Theory of History.

What was once absurdist humor is now reality (Rachel Dolezal). So if you want to know what’s next served on the dinner plate of America’s decline, listen for themes in the repertoires of current comedians. (Remember Seinfeld’s “You must wear the AIDS ribbon!” gay fascism episode? Yeah, that came true, too.)

I wonder how much longer the predictive power of the Comedic Theory of History will last? If comedians are cowed by shrieking SJW mobs into becoming more PC and less incisive, their comedy will stop being the canary in the coalmine, (and stop being funny, as they come to sound more like the droning indoctrination of government apparatchiks).

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1963:

Hey! Little Girl
Comb your hair, fix your makeup
Soon he will open the door
Don’t think because there’s a ring on your finger
You needn’t try anymore

For wives should always be lovers too
Run to his arms the moment he comes home to you
I’m warning you…

Day after day
There are girls at the office
And men will always be men
Don’t send him off with your hair still in curlers
You may not see him again

For wives should always be lovers too
Run to his arms the moment he comes home to you
He’s almost here…

Hey! Little girl
Better wear something pretty
Something you’d wear to go to the city and
Dim all the lights, pour the wine, start the music
Time to get ready for love
Time to get ready
Time to get ready for love

– Jack Jones, “Wives and Lovers”

***

2015:

Dick is abundant and low value.”

– Alana Massey, disheveled, unloved skank.

 

(h/t reader M.L.)

 

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Possibly the most iconic charismatic alpha male jerkboy in pre-post-America movie history is the character “Bender”, played by Judd Nelson in the (all-white) cult classic The Breakfast Club.

On that topic, a reader writes,

I’ve watched this movie twice this month. You really have to appreciate Bender’s alphatude.

I think it would be fun to hear your take on him. To my surprise I’ve searched around the Manosphere and found zilch. You would think he would be the poster (man) for the Manosphere, at least Alpha of the Month!

Could it be that CH overlooked Bender as Exhibit Asshole of the jerk with the alpha attitude that is diggeth by yon maidens? I searched the archives and, scandaleux!, an ode to Bender is nowhere found. Pry your eyes, time to rectify.

Bender is the classic übercool, sarcastic, brooding, lone wolf neg machine who supercharges the sex fantasies of girls from good backgrounds. He has so many great scenes of game in TBC that it’s hard to pick a favorite, but this one — a quickie in a closet where Bender responds to Claire’s pregnant ASD inquiry about his feelings towards her earlier trick of putting lipstick on herself using only her cleavage — is (IMfactualO) the perfect distillation of charismatic jerkboy game in as few words as humanly possible.

Claire: Were you really disgusted about what I did with my lipstick?

Watch out! This is a scrumptious niblet of beta bait that Clarie tosses overboard to see if Bender goes all goopy on her. Most betas would promptly qualify themselves, along the lines of “no i was just kidding with you. how could i be disgusted by anything you do?”

Bender: Truth?

Bender knows what to do with beta bait. Tug on the line, get the girl excited that maybe you’ve bitten down on the hook, but attach an old shoe instead and watch her face light up when she reels it back onto the boat, happy that her feminine wile was so expertly subdued.

Claire: Truth.

Bender: *nodding as if saying ‘yes’* No. *follows up with award-winning smirk*

Unpredictability and playfulness are the alpha player’s coin of the womb. She expected a straight answer, he responded with a flirtatious contradiction in verbal and physical acknowledgment. In other words, he broke the courtship rules. And she loves him for doing that.

Bender’s alpha attitude is a fusion reactor of gina tingles. His kind is so rare and so in-demand by women that he’s practically his own gender, a subspecies of betamale flaccidus. Why aren’t there more of him, then? Maybe his subspecies is reproductively self-correcting, flourishing only when his numbers in the broader population are low.

The CH series, Great Scenes of Game in the Movies (GSGM), is a useful learning tool for men seeking to become the charming player who sets female hearts fluttering. Movies are fantasy, but fantasy reflects real life desire, otherwise no one would be interested in watching. Art must contain a kernel of truth to have any true effect on viewers.

Browse the archived GSGM entries
here
here
here
here
here
here
here
here
and the one that started it all, here.

PS a girly commenter (swkstudent) to the above Youtube video snippet, shocked and dismayed by what she saw, felt an incredible urge to volunteer this ego-fluffing platitude:

no she likes him because she knows deep down he’s not an asshole and he was honest with her

It still amazes me the lengths to which delicate flowers will go to avoid the bleeding obvious when the bleeding obvious isn’t kind to their comatose belief systems.

swkstudent, you can’t later rationalize your love for a jerk by insisting that deep down he’s not an asshole unless you first know he’s an asshole. Otherwise, Brian, the niceguy in TBC who’s clearly not an asshole and who’s honest with everyone, would be sailing the seas of Claire’s beaver brine. And yet he’s not. Fancy that.

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

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

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

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

Ms. Sandberg goes clueless on science throughout her book…

Heh.

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