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Steve Sailer, bless his hardening heart, has a post up about a Charles Murray article reminding leftoid paymasters that high achievement on tests like the SAT are more a consequence of genetic heritage than of socioeconomic status.

One of the commenters, Jonah, draws the mostly-unspoken parallel of SAT scores to female hypergamy:

I’d wager a guess that the correlation would be significantly stronger if the father’s IQ could have been assessed as well. I’d assume that there are a significant number of affluent families where the father is the skilled/educated breadwinner.

This is very astute and under-considered by sociologists looking at longitudinal data like these. Given hypergamy – the propensity for women to “marry up”, and the willingness of men to “marry down” in favor of looks or other non IQ traits – I would bet Murray’s point would be amplified by if you looked at father’s IQ instead of mother’s. Wish he had the #s for dads/SAT rather than moms/PIAT. Would be a stronger and more striking piece.

By the way, I doubt I’m the only person here whose father was smarter than my mother. It’s probably true for over 60% of the population but you never hear about it. For people with one parent SIGNIFICANTLY smarter than the other, I bet it’s Dads over Moms 10-1.

And yes, the math checks out. Dumb, low status men, and ugly smart women are more frequently shut out of the marriage game than their gender opposites.

Female hypergamy in the West is, at least in its current configuration, dysgenic. Smart, overcredentialed women are shunting their smart genes into an ever narrower demographic slice, because these women can’t stomach the thought of “marrying down” in intelligence or phonyfuck credentials. And we see exactly that playing out, as the fertility rate of high IQ white mimosaettes is zeroing in on a little over 0.0 kids per woman.

But high IQ fathers, especially conservative fathers who don’t do woman’s work, have higher fertility and thus “male hypergamy” is eugenic. The primary reason has to do with the lifetime SMV slopes of men. High achieving men experience a gradual increase in their SMVs peaking at right about the time same-age women’s SMVs are crashing into the Wall. Many of these men go on to second or third younger wives, and produce second or third families of scions.

A secondary reason for the eugenic effect of male hypergamy — the urge to pair off with ever-younger, hotter, tighter minxes — is the fact Jonah mentioned: High achieving/high IQ men cash in their higher SMVs for prettier women at a wider range of female smarts. Because, you see, to the vast majority of men, even to the SJW manlets in full denial mode, a woman’s youth and beauty are nitroglycerin to a man’s boner. Blows it right up. A woman’s smarts? No effect. Worse for the grad school ladies, boners will sometimes wither under the droning onslaught of SMRT women with something insufferably feminist to prove.

In the final analysis, high IQ women demographically hoard their advantageous genes, just like they romantically hoard their eggs. High IQ men, in contrast, spread their advantageous genes just like they spread their sperm.

Which brings us to the fascinating, if perturbing to fragile minds, question Jonah asks: Is your father smarter than your mother?

I can recall with the crystal clearest clarity only Lucifer’s favored son can summon that it did, and does, seem to me most of my peers’ fathers were/are brighter than their mothers. (NB: I am not a product of a black ghetto. I only play one on TV.) There were a few glaring exceptions, and like all exceptions they are extraordinarily memorable by reason of their rarity. Mostly, these pairings featured a ballbuster proto-feminist tankwife cracking the whip over the back of a stepnfetchit beta hubby. Not all though. A few couples in which the mother of my friend was noticeably smarter than the father had the right sexual polarity — submissive wife and dominant husband — that managed by way of alchemical sexual magic to work despite the father’s relatively gimped brainpower.

That’s the monkey wrench in the patented CH theory of dysgenic female hypergamy: The allure of badboys — who may or may not have upper quintile SAT scores — to all women, maybe especially to SMRT women surrounded in their milieus by supplicating beta males. If the Pill and condom and abortion weren’t acting as procreation thwarting intermediaries, the fertility of high IQ women might be a lot higher, as they opened the un-latexed gates to their eggs to sundry charming jerkboys.

Evolution grinds regardless. Where are we heading? I don’t know, but I do know the late 20th-early 21st century paradigms are not long for this world. More and more it appears the historical pairing of smarter, high achieving men with prettier, low achieving women has been severed and hijacked by powerful anti-human social forces. More and more the romantically healthy arrangements are upended by discordant faux-aristocratic entities. What was once common — a vital middle class distinguished by fathers smarter and higher achieving than mothers — has become a curiosity gawked at by the destroyers of harmony.

We know our trajectory. What we don’t know is our destination. So certain are you that a bright, sunshiney day waits at the end?

Reader Mel Gibson remarks on one of those subtle changes in white homelands that herald the inglorious end,

I recently spent some time in the waiting area of the state clerk of court. Hung on the walls were 10 pictures of the classes of the local bar association, dating back to 1900. Each class member had his own picture – essentially in mugshot format with a name caption.

The photo of the 1900 class was obviously all white males, many of whom had well-kept beards and healthy, thin faces. I saw one fat guy out of the ~100. Each had a determined look on his face, looking off into the distance. [ed: APLHA] There wasn’t a single smile. [SUPERALPHA]

The first woman showed up in the 1920-ish class. Two more appeared in the 40s and 50s. Most of the men kept the distracted look, while some looked directly into the camera. I saw a few smirks and upward-curled lips, but no teeth-bearing grins.

I didn’t see classes from the 60s or 70s, but by the 1980s picture I noticed some major changes. There were more women and some blacks. (Aside: Look, if these women and blacks earned their way into their profession and this association, then props to them.). The larger trend I noticed was that the white males were losing their beards, losing their hair, getting fatter, and not only smiling more, but larger like chimps who just earned a banana from the zookeeper. By the class of 2000, well, you know where this is going… all of the above-mentioned traits, and they were looking directly into the camera. I shudder to think what the class of 2015 looks like.

Basically, in 10 pictures over 100 years, I saw the decline of the white male.

Ugliness in all forms is ascendent in America and the broader West. Beauty will return, though. Her restorative fire can’t be snuffed for long.

In the meantime, the class of 2015 photo will be a phalanx of ugly bulldykes and mystery meats glaring triumphantly, BradyBunchily, over the literal mugshots of one physically amorphic white manboob quisling crouched into the defensive pose, head buried in chest, smiling like an idiot through three pube-pocked chins, and one shell-shocked semi-discernable white man gritting his teeth, amicably trying at once to fit in with the wretched Shrikegeist and to project a tiny bit of whatever shred of pride he has left fermenting in his nads.

(You thought the title of this post would refer to some other social phenomenon related to courtrooms, didn’t you? Give yourself a ‘heh’.)

PS If you’re ever having your photo taken for a group picture, and especially if you’re a white man in this acrid culture, think of the illustrative CH Jumbotron Test. This test applies equally to the ebbs of courtship as well as the legacies left behind in courtrooms. Just ask yourself, before the picture is taken or the text is sent, “How will my pose or my words be perceived by women, by men I admire, and by future generations, including possibly my children and grandchildren?” If you can ask yourself this honestly, and you still pose like a beta chimp grinning for approval from your trashworld masters, you are a lost cause and best left in the remainder bin of discarded genes.

******

Commenter lllooooolllzzzzzllloooolll writes,

Hipster faggots are often seen imitating old photographs, even the “looking in the distance” pose. This is ironic faggotry, along with their faggot beards they use to store cum from their boyfriends,  for a mid morning snack.

Irony is the modern SWPL white man’s plausibly deniable safe space to play around with racial self-pride. It’s nauseating, yes, but also a sign of progress. Complete prostration is giving way to ironic detachment, and finally, if the CH oracles are right, the irony will become that most feared and fearsome white man state of mind…

Sincerity of self-belief.

Spot The Beta Male

The really illuminating lesson of this photo is the tacit realization that its inverse wouldn’t be nearly as revealing of the participants’ SMVs. If a hot girl was in the arms of a shlubby beta male, no one would mistake her as the female version of “beta”. She would still be a hot chick. A hot chick with a really lucky beta boyfriend who must have some compensating SMV-boosting traits. No one would negatively reassess her looks (the bulk of a woman’s SMV) because her boyfriend didn’t appear to be “in her league”.

In contrast, people DO reassess the SMV of men based on the physical attractiveness of their girlfriends. A handsome man with an ugly girlfriend isn’t a quirky love match; it’s a tell that the handsome man has unattractive personality qualities which decrease the potential return on his looks. Similarly, an ugly man with a beautiful girlfriend immediately prompts musings that he’s got cash, got flash, got mast, or some combination of all three plus the rarefied “charisma”.

An ugly girl with a handsome boyfriend isn’t the fortunate recipient of positive reassessment from onlookers. An ugly man with a pretty girlfriend *does* receive revisited glowing reviews. This photo is sort of a Voight-Kampff empathy test, reminding viewers that the sexual market values of men are women are intuitively assessed very differently by impartial strangers, because the measure of a man is nothing like the measure of a woman.

In short:

Ugly man with a hot girlfriend is an alpha male.
Handsome man with an ugly girlfriend is a beta male.
Ugly woman with a handsome boyfriend is still an ugly woman.
Hot woman with an ugly boyfriend is still a hot woman.

Some context is needed for this week’s edition of COTW. That venerable company embodying the masculine virtues, Starbucks, recently announced a campaign called “Race Together” (Twit tag: #RaceTogether).

Commenter elmer asked,

Do you patronize the Starbucks in your upscale Bohemian neighborhood? How will you respond to the barista’s entreaties to have a dialogue about race in America?

To which driveallnight, our unanimous COTW winner, replied,

I now request my black coffee be prepared “straight up nigga”

:lol: my sides.

Speaking of Starcucks, it’s time for a….

#HateTogether UPDATE!

Via The Seminary of Christian Sadists:

Very respectable troll. America’s aggregate T level just rose a notch, from sloppy wet vagina to erect vestigial clitpenis.

I’m afraid if the white leftoid elite and their vibrant shock troops insist on humiliating non-elite whites, their call for war will be answered with twice the venom and three times the scorched earth. They asked for it…

A reader passed along a screenshot of a text exchange he had with a girl he was trying to bang. He wanted to show how bratty this girl was behaving, tossing shit test after shit test his way, and wondered how he could eventually subdue her, wrest the brat from its chokehold on her id, and get her softly purring like a kitten.

Nick starts weakly. If you know the girl is a nuclear bitch, you’ve gotta make your first swing count. That pimp hand has to make an appearance early to set the tone of the conversation. Nick began like a normal human being, and quickly found out his politeness was ineffective. All his nod to courtesy did was incite Jessica to amazing feats of brattitude.

Right away she calls him Olga. For this reason, I call the style of game designed to tame tankgrrls, Olga Game.

Nick’s reply comes four hours later (he makes her wait as punishment for the ‘tude). He lifts a line straight from CH: “lol bratty mcbrattster”. So far so good.

She plays ball. Another five hours later, she replies “don’t question it hahaha” This chick has squared off with alphas before. I bet she has a clit piercing.

Nick answers two hours later, and amps the asshole a couple of degrees. He pulls out another classic CH line, “littlespoon doesn’t make the rules”. Too little, too late? We’ll see.

Jessica strikes back hard. She thinks she’s being funny, but her last text is tinged with cunty spite. Now I’m convinced that not only does she have a clit piercing, she has taken it up the ass.

I lost the original source for this reader submission, so I don’t know what happened next, or if there was an informative follow-up to this shiv-shaped badinage. All I can tell Nick is that he’s dealing with a hellion, which is bad and good. Bad, because she’ll eat you alive if you show a flicker of beta weakness. Good because if you get through her defenses with your pride intact, she will be the dirtiest slut in bed for you.

Olga Game is essentially script flipping. Girls like Jessica will expect you to continue your hard teasing banter, (and they’ll continue returning equally caustic parries); therefore, the way to win this battle… is to refuse to fight it. Take her mental hamster script and rewrite it. When she expects another emotionally arid jest, respond instead with a faux pose of sincerity, laced with a judgmental pique aimed at her inability to connect like a normal healthy woman.

Jessica Rabid: “no no I think you need to go put on a nice dress blah blah…”

Nick the Iron Dick: “sure, i’ll get on that as soon as you drop the act and be real”

This is thermonuclear script-flipping intended for a very specific audience and context. Gauge wisely. If a girl is a broken record with her endless bitch barrages of return fire, that’s the moment to think about deploying Olga Game. It’s shocking, and for the girl who is used to being shocked by assholes of varying degrees of state control, the “be real” plot change to the stale book of her dating life could be the shock that finally tames her.

Sometimes these sassy chicks get trapped by their own “I’m a tough broad” expectations, and lose the capacity to be emotionally vulnerable around men. Their hearts are as scarred as their vaginas. If you meet one of these girls, think about using that pair of high hearts you have up your sleeve. Make a feint toward vulnerability, however expertly faked, and the hardened trollop may soften up just enough for your penetrating id busters.

Just don’t be stupid about it. Don’t profess your attraction like some warrior poet. A little step back can mean a big leap forward. If she takes the Olga Game bait and backs off a little, you’ve got a chance with her. Now you’re no longer some “fun guy” she feels free to fuck around with because you’re “just another player like all the rest.” Proceed in this manner, extracting genuine emotions, but return to the previous script at inopportune times, like when there’s a sense that the conversation is veering close to sap. Unpredictability will slowly but inevitably switch the chaser-chasee roles into an alignment more favorable for the man’s romantic goals.

Troll Starbucks and get laid. What’s not to like?

Commenter grit turns lemonade into hard 10 lemonade,

Take your [“Race Together”] cup from the hopefully cute barista, return a minute later.
Ask:
“Are you hitting on me?”

She will be perplexed and wonder why.

“Apparently we are going to a 5k together.”

She laughs to break tension. And has to explain what it means, submissively. Ignore anything she says.

Comment how she looks like a runner. As opposed to those people at starbucks who ask for half and half “if you know what i mean”

Notice the time and say “you got that pen handy? How about adding something else to my cup.” Hand back and she asks what to add. “Your number.”

Closed

Tight game, grit. Sticking it to the SJW manlet and stealing the women he wishes he had. Conan, that’s what is good in life.

 

I’ve thought about writing a “Manlet Manifesto” satire to capture the mitegeist of 2015 America, but I kept coming across real world accidental examples that couldn’t be topped. Then, this dropped in the combox.

Corey duBrowa (check its smug neopuritan face) is the Starbucks SVP of Communications responsible for spearheading the “Race Together” initiative, which asked Starbucks baristas “to write ‘Race Together’ on coffee cups as an invitation to talk about race with customers.”

A national, commercialized dialogue on race! Tomato Certified Fresh. These “””race dialogues””” are never two-way. James Watson tried to have a national dialogue about race and he was meta-killed for it. Eric “brown paper bag” Holder requested a national dialogue on race, and then answered the call by demonizing and hounding innocent whites living in vibrant Ferguson, until the whole place burned to the ground and white blood was spilled.

I don’t know how reading “race together” on my coffee cup is supposed to open a dialogue. “Hey thanks for the grande anti-racism. You know, this really gets me thinking. White men are the worst! Amirite?”

Nor is this campaign very informative about the substance of any ensuing dialogue prompted by an Implicit Bias Flat White. “Race together” could mean “race together to cure the disproportionate black-on-white rape rate”, or it could mean “Race together to a liberal white gated community for a higher quality of life”. Maybe it’s “Race together, but the fucking Kenyan is still gonna win.”

I do know that this leftoid gimmick, and the thousands of others like it, is pure anti-white propaganda with the sole purpose of humiliating whites, and particularly white men, in the homeland of their ancestors. Occupied America, indeed.

The fact that GoodWhites are at the helm of this anti-racism evil, using nonwhite pawns as artillery against BadWhites, tells us that the long-running white intra-ethnic war isn’t out of gas yet. In fact, it seems to be heating up.

Anyhow, all this is prelude to an id fart by duBrowa that encapsulates the mentality of white leftoids. I’ll reprint it here, and call it the Manlet Manifesto, because you’ve gotta read it in full to appreciate the whiny, faggoty, mewling majesty.

Why I deleted my Twitter account, and why I’m back.

Last night, around midnight, I deleted my Twitter account. I also blocked a handful of Twitter users — given the hostile nature of what I was seeing, it felt like the right thing to do. I’ve been a dedicated — some might say obsessive — Twitter user for nearly seven years and as a professional communicator, Twitter has proven to be a valuable tool for me to interact with my professional community, with media, on behalf of Starbucks, as well as “on behalf of me.”

But last night I felt personally attacked in a cascade of negativity.

“I felt personally attacked in a cascade of negativity.” This is a contender for most Millennial shitlib phrase ever. It’s right up there with “Here’s why that’s a problem.” duBrowa is not from the Millennial generation, but apparently the tug of Millennial solipsism is so strong it corrupts two or three preceding generations.

I got overwhelmed by the volume and tenor of the discussion, and I reacted.

I first read that as “terror of the discussion”. A reasonable mistake.

Most of all, I was concerned about becoming a distraction from the respectful conversation around Race Together that we have been trying to create. To be clear, Race Together isn’t about me, it’s about we: and having heard first-hand the number of stories our partners (at Starbucks we call our employees “partners”)

So precious. God forbid this suited up SVP making 100X the typical barista acknowledge that a hierarchy exists. As long as the peons swallow this ego-assuaging slop, it’s all good.

shared with us in the open forums of the past few months, I have thought long and hard about the passion, concerns and painful experiences our people across the country have endured, and wanting to make sure they felt supported by their company.

So no matter how ugly the discussion has been since I shut my account down,

Paging Dr Stephen J Krune… Stephen J Krune to the hate phone…

I’m reaffirming my belief in the power of meaningful, civil, thoughtful, respectful open conversation — on Twitter and everywhere else. I believe in it personally, and Starbucks believes in it at the core of our company’s values. It’s this belief that led us to host a series of open forums with our partners in some of the communities most affected by the recent flareups of racial tension across the country. In those meetings, we heard loud and clear that we, as a company, have an opportunity to engage on this topic, no matter how difficult. You can learn more about those meetings, and about what Starbucks is doing, here: http://news.starbucks.com/news/race-together-conversation-has-the-power-to-change-hearts-and-minds.

I’m going to do the same. I’m only one guy,

Fucking grown man using the androgynizing term “guy” to describe himself. I bet he had a fright when his first nut descended.

and I do actually sleep occasionally (and definitely needed to last night), but I personally will answer the challenge to participate where it’s uncomfortable, and to do so with integrity, openness, and empathy.

Do blacks patronize Starcucks in significant numbers? What is the point of this exercise if most of the customers and Starcucks “partners” are white SWPLs, hipsters, and yuppies? Rhetorical.

Who knows if duBrowa actually believes his own horseshit. My guess is, he does, enough to stain his character. The ulterior motivation is the fear that Starcucks and other big companies with deep pockets and SJW fanbases will be a target of the next Anti-Racism Inquisition coming to their boardrooms, and demanding witches to burn and Danegeld to pay. This shit is starting to get expensive. And companies are starting to figure out that loading up their “partnerships” with diversity dross is bad business and bad for the bottom line. Maybe, they think, the best thing to do is throw a preemptive bone to the rabble to distract them while the company continues hiring competent nonvibrants unobstructed.

Hearteningly, even the white SWPL hipsters have their self-abnegation limits. They’re finding their balls and fucking around with corporate. For example, from the #NewStarbucksDrinks hashtag: “Some of my best friends are black coffee.”

Corey duBrowa, congratulations! Not only have you penned the Manlet Manifesto, you are our White Male Pussy Of The Month! The trophy is a giant black strap-on. May you feel a cold spike of fear every time your… er, wife?… uses it on you.

PS The opportunities for trolling #RaceTogether are endless. CH is starting an initiative called #HateTogether. CH will post videos, pics and audios submitted by readers who trolled the last speck of testosterone out of Starcucks. Send in your small part to open the sort of national dialogue that makes the Hivemind shit its diapers.

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