Oneitis And The Wall: The Two Most Important Life Lessons You Can Impart To Your Sons And Daughters

Mitch Cumstein has a story about a careergrrl nursing pained regret that, while entertaining on its own, contains within it an eternal truth that CH house lords thought proper to feature and expand upon.

Off-topic…a career woman ghost story I thought CH and the readership would enjoy.

I ran into my ex at a party a few days ago. I haven’t seen her in a couple years, but she moved back into town. We used to date and she was into me, but she had to pursue her dreamz out of state. Career woman heh. We did the long distance thing for a couple months before it fizzled out. I wasn’t happy, but I found this site and used it to shed my beta ways over time. I learned to become detached and implemented tips and suggestions here to hook up with other girls. I even used them successfully on the ex a few times to hook up when she was in town, but only until it got boring for me.

So at the party, I was civil and brief. When I got home, I got a text from her, saying how great it was to see me. I texted back, “I did look good, didn’t I?” She ate it right up. Kept texting me for the next day or so, until I dropped the hint that I’m seeing someone and it’s serious. She went silent for about an hour. And then, a string of text bombs.

“I’m afraid that no one will ever love me like you did. When I was younger, I thought career was the most important thing (she was 23), but now, I know better (now she’s 29).” “I fucked up my life by choosing my career and now I only do it in hopes that it pays off somehow.” I poured myself a drink and just watched the confessions pile in. The last one was, “If you wanted to elope this weekend, I would do it.”

Years ago, I was devastated that I lost this snowflake. Fast forward to today, I sit amused as the clock is running out and she’s throwing hail Mary passes. I’m going to take the screen grabs, print them out, and show them to my future kids. To my sons: a lesson about oneitis. Life goes on. Half the people on the planet are women. Find a better one. To my daughters: a lesson about The Wall. It’s real and hits like a motherfucker. Play the game wisely and don’t be left without a chair when the music stops.

Don’t let any mincing manlet tell you otherwise; it feels good to have hand. Power always beats powerlessness.

Now, to the real gem in this post: Oneitis and The Wall. There are many lessons to teach your son or daughter, but these two are the most important for their future happiness. These are lessons that only a father can teach, because, quite frankly, mothers are constitutionally incapable of dispensing useful dating advice to their children, particularly to their sons. Restating Mitch:

Fathers, teach your sons about Oneitis. If there’s one lesson in love that will do them immeasurable good, it’s the belief that girls are interchangeable, at least during the time when a courtship is fresh and finding its footing. Later, when your son graduates to more serious relationships, he can learn to be more selective about the character, personality, and maternal instinct of the women he games into bed woos.

Oneitis is truly the mind killer of men. Besides all the time wasted on THAT ONE GIRL who knows she’s THAT ONE GIRL and parcels her weakly reciprocated interest accordingly, there is the psychological damage Oneitis perpetrates against a young man’s self-conception. Oneitis is the opposite of that crucial alpha male attitude to cultivate: The abundance mentality. Your son will never have that “TAKE HER OR LEAVE HER” attitude that is so intoxicating to women if he pops a years-long hard-on for the red-haired girl with the jerk boyfriend.

Fathers, tell your sons, “Don’t get hung up on this one girl. I know what you’re feeling… I’ve been there. And I’m telling you from experience that you’ll be far better off, and feel so much happier, if you allow more women into your life, and don’t put so much of your faith and hopes in any one of them.”

After teaching your son about Oneitis, teach him about Game.

Fathers, teach your daughters about The Wall. So much regret, spinsterhood, low fertility, and smelly cats can be avoided if young women are sternly and firmly warned against the danger of waiting too long for the right man. Use stark, unsparing language, if necessary. You’d be surprised how much of what you say sinks into their minds, even if in the moment they appear to not be hearing you at all.

Daughters must be cautioned to USE IT OR LOSE IT. Tell her with uncompromising bluntness that she is pretty now, and all the boys notice her, but her prettiness will disappear faster than she knows (or can possibly know at her tender age), and there will come a time, always much sooner than she had hoped, when none of the boys will notice her. And when that time comes, if she doesn’t have a loving husband by then, the rest of her life will be a horrifying trial of inescapable sorrow.

After teaching your daughter about The Wall, teach her about jerkboys and niceguys, and how you know she’ll fall hard for the former, but she must seriously consider giving the less exciting boys a shot, and to be patient with them as their self-confidence grows into adulthood. Tell her, if she does fall deeply in love with a jerkboy, to be certain he is the kind of jerkboy willing to commit to her, and to be aware of the other kind of jerkboy who will most certainly break her heart, if not her body, and leave her less attractive to better men after he is gone.

Sexbot Update

Chateau Heartiste was the first warning about consequences from the coming sexbot revolution, and how it will radically distort the sexual market and push the West into chaos.

Today, a chorus of voices from various scientific fields are echoing what CH wrote long ago. “Sex with robots will be the norm in 50 years”, expert claims. 3D printed models can make a sexbot face that looks exactly like your favorite hottie.

(The reader who supplied the links comments: “This will blow up the world.  It will make crack cocaine look like decaffeinated coffee.”)

Soon, sexbots will be animated and be able to talk (programmable with your preferred phrases of sexy come-ons).

Once the uncanny valley is ascended, all bets are off. As men are, above all else, visually stimulated to reproductive ardor, sexbots present a real challenge to flesh and blood women and, ultimately, to the sustaining of civilization.

***

I foresee a massive groundswell of support for polygamy & polyamory coinciding with the widespread introduction of affordable sexbots to the consumer (male) market. It’s hard to predict if this outcome — that is, the complete removal from the dating market of omega and lesser beta males — will be dysgenic or eugenic, because women could just as plausibly want to share callous, undependable jerkboys as to share morally sterling, credentialed alpha male captains of industry. Then, in a sexbot saturated world, the pressure on women to look their very best for the few men left in the dating market who are still suitable mates will be immense.

***

MT avers,

Loyal companionship, his cheerleader, heart of the home, a submissive nature to compliment his naturally dominate one, soft heartedness and in the words of the comedian Sinbad, his nurse when he is elderly. Attributes a fembot cannot give.

True (well, mostly true, but things change). However, female beauty is necessary if not sufficient to men’s romantic happiness, especially to men with sexual market options (and sexbots would add a lot more options). Female beauty is not just necessary to men’s happiness, it is dominating, over every other consideration a man would make when evaluating women for both short- and long-term mate worth. Stone cold truth: A typical American fatty with attitude to spare has no chance against a sexbot with a pretty face, a slender BMI, and a perfect hourglass shape.

***

latchkey kid asks,

what if women also take to acquiring male bots to satisfy their womanly wants? After all, it’s not uncommon for them to say that all the good men have gone, they might as well start having a bit of artificial action like men do with them bots.

Male sexbots for women will never happen, at least not to the degree that female sexbots for men fly out of the factories. For a simple reason: Women’s sexual and romantic desire is not nearly as visually-oriented as it is for men. Just one of those uncomfortable truths about immutable differences between the sexes that market disruptors like sexbots help clarify for the masses.

***

Prediction: The vast majority of sexbots produced for worldwide male consumption will be White women with a diverse palette of hair colors. Asian women sexbots will compete with Latin women sexbots for second place. I’ll leave it as an exercise for the reader which race of women will be least represented among the ranks of assembly-line sexbots. Hint: Black male sexbots will probably outsell this last category.

The Great Men On Unfunny Girls

Via reader StAugustine, who supplied a quote from Irvin Cobb as an answer to the Hivemind media propaganda blitz asserting that women are just as funny as men.

Seriously. From Irwin S. Cobb’s memoirs (1923), I’ve treasured this nugget:

“You may have noticed that in making this classification, I have used the masculine gender exclusively. I have done so advisedly and after due thought, because all the best authorities agree that it is not in the nature of a woman to take a joke, for better or for worse, the first time she meets it face to face. In the matter of being shown, the average woman, so far as humor is concerned, is so far out in Missouri that she’s practically in Kansas. She is up on the tallest peak of the Ozark Mountains, very skeptical, not to say skittish. She wants to hear a thing that’s funny several times and let it soak into her and mingle with her other ingredients; then after a suitable period of time she begins to care for it and forever after bears it a deep and lasting affection. At least, soothe authorities confirm.”

Cobb captured a particular feature of women very well: their conformist herd mentality influences almost everything they set about to understand, even the world of humor. But once woman has latched onto a novel observation (or narrative) she won’t easily relinquish it, until signaled by her peers that it’s ok to do so.

Optimism Pushers

You’re going to hear a lot of mewling by cuckservatives this election cycle — as you have heard from them for the last, oh, eight election cycles — about the GOP needing to be more “optimistic”, because “Americans want to hear a message of hope, (not nasty dispiriting truths).”

Ignore it. Do you know what an optimist buried to his neck in a rising tide of shit is called? A fool.

“Optimism” is cuck-code for “sweeping reality under the rug and continuing the sell-out of white Americans”.

PS Here are some ❤️heart-warming photos❤️ of international border walls from around the world.

Heartiste Banned From Twitter, Twitter Stock Plummets. Coincidence?

Almost immediately after @heartiste was banned from Twatter by a disGUNTled fat, bitter pigwoman on a phony charge of violating their TOS, Twatter stock nose-dived, and hasn’t recovered.

Via da GBFM lzzzzzzzlzlz (TM), the ongoing story of Twatter’s SJW-led demise.

Coincidence? I think not.

The “Three Boyfriend Blurts” Rule

Here’s a game tip for aspiring womanizers that more experienced swains probably already know:

The more a girl mentions her boyfriend — either by name or by label — during the course of a conversation originally unrelated to anything about her boyfriend, the likelier it is she is aroused by your presence and therefore compelled to grasp onto “verbal anchors” that remind her of her ties to her boyfriend so as to alleviate her swelling guilt and, in case things spin out of control, to back-rationalize any cheating she does as outside the realm of her personal responsibility.

I call this the “three boyfriend blurts” rule. I’ve found, unfailingly, that women who plug the word “boyfriend” three times or more into their conversations with me are invariably attracted to me and enjoying my company beyond the bounds of propriety. These are the tell-tale female cues that they are stricken by guilty tingles, and are feeling at once desirous, desirable, and ashamed.

Once I know this, I can construct the flow and direction of our conversation toward more seductive destinations.

Most men are put off when a girl mentions her boyfriend out of the blue and worse, over and over, but they should really consider it a seduction opportunity. When a girl wedges a discordant declaration of the existence of her boyfriend into her rambling train of thought multiple times, the odds of illicit romantic closure with a charming interloper rise commensurate to the number of boyfriend blurts. The multiple boyfriend blurts are less warnings to other men than they are signals to approach her from an angle, because “taken” girls spook easily, like horses.

There’s only one exception to this rule, and it’s a weak exception, hardly belying the general observation: Some girls — particularly high maintenance BPD drama queens — who have fallen for a new guy will declare it from the rooftops on the flimsiest pretexts. However, this stage of try-hard infatuation usually lasts for a few weeks, two months tops, and they are more pliable to a supple seduction than their protestations to the contrary would suggest.

Girls who truly love their boyfriends, who are low infidelity risks, and who are secure in the knowledge that their boyfriends love them back, will be noted for the *absence* of mentions they make of their boyfriends. Paradoxical at first consideration, it makes sense upon reflection… a committed woman in love feels no need to prop up her own sexual loyalty to her boyfriend nor feels much need to artificially inflate via verbal incantation the sexual loyalty of her boyfriend.

For this reason, it’s almost a welcome convenience to hear the anxious staccato blurts of a “””taken””” woman instead of the opaque discretion of a legitimately taken woman who feels little psychic tension to announce her disengagement from the dating market.

Best of all, of course, is to hear no reference to a boyfriend, but even that is no guarantee you wouldn’t play the unknowing part of the furtive rendezvous lover.

Comment Of The Week: Hate Is As Natural As Love

PA, ya gone and done it again.

Love and hate go together. Hate is what you feel to those who’d harm that which you love. Without hate, love is impotent. Without love, hate is cannibalistic.

Passion doesn’t follow guard rails. Passionate men hate and love with equal intensity. Weak men often confuse passion for blind hate or evidence of insecurity, because it is imperative to their sense of worth that they diminish the righteousness of their enemies’ cause.