Elliot Rodger, Sexual Entitlement, Father Abandonment, And The Anti-Boy Therapy Culture

CH continues to explore the Elliot Rodger story because it reveals cracks in our culture that go beyond one man’s murderous rampage. In the days that have followed, the Hivemind has been busy concocting twisted narratives to see which one best tarnishes its free-thinking enemies. I examine their accuracies and fallacies below.

Sexual Entitlement

This theoretical gambit is a favorite of feminist fruitcakes, who blame the killings on Rodger’s thwarted “entitled” belief that he was “owed” sex with hard 10s, a feminist-friendly analysis that provides a handy springboard upon which they can launch into attacks on “pickup artists” who are learning how to become sexier men in order to date higher quality girls.

The fallacy in this feminist hypothesis was astutely noted by Liger (recently upgraded from Lamb) of the Blogosphere, who wrote that sexual and romantic entitlement is a natural condition of humanity, and that without it men would feel they had no right to approach women and initiate a courtship, and the human race would go extinct.

Here are some uncomfortable truths about “sexual entitlement” that feminists dare not contemplate:

– What Elliot Rodger had was sexual desire. Feminists often confuse sexual desire for sexual entitlement (because feminists loathe male desire), but they are two very different things. To conflate them, one would have to assert that Rodger was weird for feeling attracted to a hot young blonde. But men are attracted to beautiful women. That is their nature. Rodger was no different than the vast majority of men in this regard, alpha and beta alike. However, this is the part where Liger goes astray; Elliot didn’t need to be surrounded by pretty Hollywood actresses or steeped in a culture that reveres female beauty to feel urges to want to fuck cute girls based on their looks. The stripling CH did not grow up in Hollywood, and yet I, like almost every boy I knew, valued girls for their looks above all else. No “looks message” is necessary for a boy like Elliot to feel sexual urges for cute chicks, and to feel dejected if those urges aren’t fulfilled.

– Women feel more true entitlement to men’s commitment and money than men feel to women’s sex. Few men will rape in order to feed their sexual entitlement, but many women will hold out until they get promises of commitment from men, and many marriages end with women feeling entitled to half their husbands’ wealth. A more accurate description of the sexual market, then, is that women have commitment and provision entitlement.

– Finally, the scariest realization for feminists: Sexually entitled men are more attractive to women! If you don’t feel entitled to a woman’s love, she won’t think you’re worth her love.

Elliot Rodger’s problem was not sexual entitlement. His problem was sexual desire coupled with crippling introversion that left him no means to satisfy his desire. This created a cognitive disconnect that he filled with his own untested theories for why women weren’t with him when they were with (to him) obviously inferior specimens.

Father Emotional Abandonment

Elliot Rodger’s father, Peter Rodger, from all accounts sounds like he was uninterested in Elliot’s upbringing and preferred his time in the company of naked women taking pictures of their behinds, (which included Elliot’s mother). His father either never loved Elliot, or grew to despise him when he began to sense something was off with the boy. (If the former, it’s likely that Elliot’s biracial appearance contributed to his white father’s disenchantment with him.)

Bolstering the father abandonment theory, a reader sent some juicy insider information which I will post here, taking care to edit it in a circumspect manner so that no identities are accidentally revealed.

Elliot Rodger’s family has been part of a reality show the last seven years often recorded in his house. This is significant because his father on the show has always said he has “a” son, as in only one. In this video from the TV show it shows the father at the family table with the son from the second marriage, but not Elliot.

Elliot is shown in the show, for example when they met Sylvester Stallone (23:50), but Elliot is never acknowledged or speaks. Imagine a father that has a reality show in the house, keeps talking about “his son” and the “three of us” as in “Mother, Father, and son” as opposed to sons.

Elliot mentions the jealousy he has for the other brother. The fact his father says on TV, in the house Elliot lives in, that he has one son, might be enough to push someone over the edge.

In other words, complete family dysfunction.

Elliot doubtlessly sensed his father’s loathing and embarrassment of him, and this family dynamic may have set the ball rolling on Elliot’s eventual psychosocial schism.

Regardless where you fall on the “fathers are crucial/father’s genes are crucial” argument about children’s development, it’s a good bet Elliot lacked a positive parental influence and a loving father’s advice that would have helped him through his struggle into manhood. Nevertheless, the father emotional abandonment theory can’t fully explain Elliot’s eventual psychotic break; something awry already had to be present. Was Elliot’s blood tainted?

Psychopathy/Schizophrenia/Narcissism/Neuroticism/Asperger’s Syndrome

A common theme that often emerges from mass shootings is the revelation that the killer was on some kind of psychotropic or suffered from an anti-social disorder like autism. Then people say “Aha! He was a bad seed, not right in the head”, and feel satisfied that they can ignore any environmental insults that may have triggered the killer’s rage.

News stories present contradicting information on how much, or whether, Elliot was on any happy pills or had been formally diagnosed with any personality disorder. If he was on pills, the causal mechanism then becomes the issue; did Elliot’s psychological disease push him over the edge, or did the drugs he take to ameliorate his disease act as the trigger for violence? Evidence is slim that Elliot had a congenital mental disease, but this photo of him as a child is telling (via reader Tony Nick):

Dem eyes. We’ve seen them before, staring vacantly out of the faces of Dylan Kliebold and Seung-Hui Cho.

Right now it’s a guessing game, but the best guess is that Elliot Rodger had inherited a form of narcissistic and anti-social personality disorder. Some wags may ask your esteemed host, “If chicks dig dark triad narcissists, why didn’t they dig Elliot?” The problem here is that narcissism doesn’t attract girls if it’s hiding behind a shy, retiring, aggrieved personality. You’ve gotta bust a move, and Elliot Rodger clearly never saw a move he wished to bust, unless it involved spilling coffee on a girl who was dating a guy he didn’t like.

A severe organic personality disorder alone won’t typically create a killer, but combine it with some external variable — like incel — and all the bomb needs is something to light the fuse.

Male Feminism/White Knightism

A good argument can be made that Elliot Rodger was, in his writings and beliefs, a male feminist. And that the cancerous, deceitful message of male feminism warped his view of women and contributed to his ignorance about female nature and dating. Rodger believed “supreme gentlemen” should get the girls. He thought merely showing up and plopping down on a park bench would have the girls falling into his lap (and like a peculiar subspecies of MGTOW, his belief system similarly embraced the strange notion that making efforts to get girls was beneath him). His dad, probably equally deluded about women and dating in the year 2014, figured that buying his son a BMW in the last year of his life would help him get dates.

Did male feminism create a monster? It certainly didn’t help Elliot get laid; in fact, it helped repulse girls from him, the external factor which seems to have been the dark driving force throughout his post-pubertal life. Male feminism is not just castrating, it kills. Ask Hugo Schwyzer.

Status Envy

In the Hollywood culture Elliot knew, very high status men, beautiful women and botoxed women, and snotty children of high status men and beautiful and/or botoxed women surrounded him. Most of these people are entitled (far more entitled than Elliot) and bipolar. A fun bunch to throw a party, not so great for raising a biracial, effeminate (though not physically unattractive) male like Elliot who couldn’t look people in the eyes and barely spoke two words to family acquaintances. In this milieu, Elliot would have felt like a tragic outcast, and everyone who knew him would have thought that, too.

Absolute low status does not destroy souls, but relative low status can do the trick. Any other town, Elliot might’ve stood a chance of carving out a social niche for himself. A dad with some awareness and compassion would have taken him out of Hollywood, but then that would have meant no more naked photo shoots and handshakes with Sly Stallone.

The Anti-Boy Therapy Culture

Elliot’s family had him in therapy for years. The psychiatrist he saw was a quack who dated a skank blonde with gargantuan fake tits. Harken back to your childhood. How would you have felt if your family basically pulled a Pontius Pilate and washed their hands of you, sending you to a sleazeball who’s idea of therapy was promptly writing a script for Risperidone, an anti-schizophrenia drug?

This is a tragic example of the anti-boy therapy culture that pervades the US. And by “therapy”, I mean that feminized, womanish therapy that shoves pills down throats to solve the problem of boyness. Maybe Elliot was born sick and needed therapy. But what he didn’t need was a castrate asking him his feelings about his mother while he jerked off under the desk. Elliot needed the therapy of a clear and present father to inform him of the ways of the world. Maybe that wouldn’t have saved him, but it at least would’ve given him a fighting chance.

Pickup Artists and PUAHate

Elliot Rodger didn’t frequent the PUAHate forum to grouse about pickup techniques he tried that didn’t land him a bombshell hottie. He went there to bemoan women and the men those women loved with sympathetic company, and to complain about his looks. While there, (and elsewhere), he picked up (heh) a few bits and pieces of PUA jargon and proceeded to construct an inner fantasy world featuring himself as the put-upon alpha male. But, sadly, to the outside world he was still that shy kid who never talked and looked at his shoes. This was about the time when a complete dissociation between Elliot’s inner world and his outer reality was underway.

The Estrangement Of The Modern Sexual Market

If ever there was a subculture where the modern sexual market was most conspicuously operable, it was the la-la land Elliot grew up in. You can imagine what it was like for a shy kid who had to navigate a dating apocalypse where 90% of the girls were bangable and 99% of them were chasing after the top 1% sons of A-list insiders. This poor lesser beta didn’t stand a chance.

Elliot Rodger’s 132-page autobiography/manifesto (autofesto? manigraphy?) is filled with brutally confessional admissions of loserdom. If he carried even a fraction of that self-pity with him to real life interactions with girls, they would have immediately written him off as a romantic prospect. Girls can smell the stink of beta incel from twelve parsecs.

Failure with women compounds until the beta male succumbs to bitterness, at which point the process of sexual isolation accelerates and solidifies. If an intervention goes missing, the beta can drift into omegaland, and fall victim to his worst compulsions.

Reader Steve Johnson writes,

He was totally isolated because he made bad choices.

He chose world of warcraft over socializing because it’s an effective narcotic.

He chose puahate because it told him what he wanted to hear – that girls choose guys for mysterious reasons that no man can understand – or change about himself.

He specifically avoided socializing in any way that would threaten his narcissistic self-image and motivate him to change in any way – after all if he has to change, then he’s not perfect and we all know that can’t be true, right?

He was omega by choice because it was easier than doing any work.

Martyrdom complex, bad family, crippling shyness, pathological narcissism, biracial neuroticism, unfulfilled sexual desire, a sexual market rapidly separating introverted beta males from the sexual spoils… these things put together don’t guarantee a man will become a killer, but they sure don’t help.

What Advice Would CH Have Given To A Younger Elliot Rodger?

Some readers have asked, if I had a younger teenaged Elliot Rodger cornered at one of his dad’s Hollyweird parties, what would I have told him, assuming I could sense that the boy was troubled by his perceived failure with girls and suffering great loneliness?

The thought has crossed my mind. Here’s what I would say (give or take):

Women are different than men. Much different. Forget everything you know. You must understand this first.
You must be willing to listen and improve yourself or I’m wasting my time here.
Accept that women are different, and like different things in men than you like in them. That means stop worrying about your looks so much. They aren’t that important.
Don’t act needy. This is the most important lesson. Girls hate male neediness. Girls love men who seem like they get a lot of women and don’t chase after them. Fake it if you have to, it’s better than moping around like a loner.
Lift weights. Drink a lot of full fat milk. Don’t expect that you’ll look like Arnold in his prime. But if you stay the course, in one year you will be more muscular and more confident than you are now, and girls will notice.
You have to get over your shyness. Girls can’t read your mind. You spend too much time inside your head. Get out of there. Focus on making eye contact with people, and stop looking like a grouch. Talk to girls first as a friend. Get comfortable with that, then begin flirting with them and making your sexual intention known.
Stop taking whatever drugs your dad put you on. The only drug you need is the testosterone you’ll get from lifting and the thrill of approaching girls.
Find a male friend who is good with girls. Don’t envy him. Observe him. Learn from him. He doesn’t have to know this, but he will be your mentor. Don’t feel ashamed that other men have something to teach you.
Again, your looks or your race you can’t do anything about, so stop dwelling on them.
Girls don’t like “supreme gentlemen”. Girls like fun guys who tease them and confuse them and make them chase. All those ugly guys with cute girls? They flirt with the girls and then ignore them and then make fun of them. It’s a seesaw girls love to ride.
You should never let a girl know how you truly feel until she has already fallen in love with you. Girls love men who challenge them.
Be mysterious. Don’t wear your heart on your sleeve.
Never, I mean never, write poetry or love letters for a girl, or buy them stuff. You save that for girls you are already fucking.
Girls don’t want to hear about your problems. If you have to vent, do it with a male friend, or an older male guardian.
Never, I mean never, take advice from a woman, even if she is your mother.
If you want to know what a girl is really thinking, watch what she does. Don’t bother listening to what she says, as she herself is unaware what turns her on.
Never put a girl on a pedestal.
You make a girl chase you by not returning her texts promptly, or by flirting with other girls around her, or by ignoring her chat pings or calls. Don’t feel bad about doing this, it turns girls on.
Your car doesn’t matter. Your clothes don’t matter. Your family’s money or the people they know don’t matter. Do you know what matters to girls? Self-assurance. Act like women already want you, and now it’s just a question of which one you’ll choose.
Oneitis will kill your soul. That hot blonde you obsess over? Stop doing that. The world is filled with cute girls. Go out and mingle with them. Trust me on this, once you are experiencing the incomparable joy of a cute girl giving you all her love, you’ll forget about that one girl you used to think you couldn’t live without. You’ll forget allll about her.
Stop thinking life is unfair, or girls are unfair to you. There is no such thing as unfair, there is only the way the world works. This is the way girls work, now make that work for you.
Here are a few one-liners I want you to remember because girls love to hear them.
Don’t be defensive if a girl acts indignant when you tease her. Her indignation is the first sign that she’s beginning to like you.
Stop berating yourself. Who cares how other men are doing compared to you? The only thing you should care about is your own growth as a man.
Stop hanging around losers. That includes losers on internet forums.
Let me show you how to stand like a confident man, and how to walk. Come, try it with me.
You are young. You have way more time than you think. Get some perspective. Setbacks and rejection are a normal part of living, not the end of the world.
Say the word “fuck”. Good. Say it again, this time louder. Good. Now scream it from the top of your lungs. Wow, people are looking at us. Smile. You’re feeling better already aren’t you?
That’ll be $200.

Amanjaw Marcuntte’s Singularly False Premise

The self-gratifying meme that feminists have begun to lock labia around to exploit explain Elliot Rodger’s killing spree is exemplified in this American Prospect stream of runny shit by Amanda Marcotte, she of the furry manjaw and associated masculine temperament. The meme, a rather simple-minded one, goes like this: “Pickup artistry, loosely affiliated with the manosphere, drives men to kill.”

Other unattractive feminists who have spent many years playing second banana to their prettier friends getting all the attention from exciting players are circling the wagons around this kindergarten interpretation.

Marcuntte’s libelous propaganda rests on a singularly false premise. She lies,

Despite PUA guarantees to the contrary, there’s no reason to believe any of this actually makes you more successful with women, which is why a site called PUAhate, which Rodgers was a frequent contributor to, emerged. Members of PUAhate, by and large, are men who bought wholesale into the PUA ideology, only to find it doesn’t work for them.

You’ll never go broke underestimating the rapidity with which feminist warthogs abandon journalistic integrity in pursuit of a predefined agenda. PUAHate was not filled with men who “bought wholesale into the PUA ideology”. Quite the contrary, if this raving cuntess had spent one minute trawling the site she’d know that it was filled with shut-in losers who never followed PUA advice and nursed an inordinate hatred for PUA marketers whom they considered, rightly or wrongly, were pushing snake oil.

If Marcuntte were to concede this point, the entire edifice of her Prospect article crumbles to the ground. That’s why she lies. Without lies, these feminist freaks would have nothing.

In related shivving, I wonder how Manboobz, nee David Futrelle, feels about having happily linked to a website that harbored a mass murderer and fed his despair and homicidal tendencies? The blood of four men and two women are on his hands.*

*If femcunts and their blobby male lackeys want to dispense with any pretense of objectivity and get in the gutter, I’ll be the first to open the sewer doors and toss them in with the rats and pigs.

Institutional Misogyny

I believe feminists have a point about the existence of institutional misogyny. It drenches every aspect of our culture, and shapes the minds of men, leading some of them to commit atrocious acts against women. For an example of this, read these lyrics of a popular hit song:

You must not know ’bout me,
You must not know ’bout me;
I could have another you in a minute
And in fact she’ll be here in a minute.
Don’t you ever for a second get to thinking you’re irreplaceable…

This is what institutional misogyny looks like. Men taking women for granted, thinking women are not humans deserving of respect, and worst of all, believing that women are interchangeable. This is the patriarchal power structure we must all fight against if we want a better world of empowered women and empowering deferential men.

Ann Hornaday’s Feminist Idiocy

Steve Sailer links to Ann Hornaday’s Washington Post article where she attempts, in the typical square axe-round hole grinding feminist fashion, to blame Elliot Rodger’s shooting spree on “frat boy” movies made by white men.

The premise is so conspicuously self-refuting (and conveniently unfalsifiable) that Steve decides a pregnant “uh…” is all the rebuttal that’s needed. The first commenter, though, adds a little zest to the national discourse.

But Ann, what about a film like “Something’s Gotta Give,” where 50-ish women with no curves are told the hot young doctor’s going to fall in love with them? Is it possible that when this doesn’t happen in real life, women act out by supporting all manner of political causes inimical to the interests of the straight white men who spurn them? Hmmm?

Shiv status: To the bone.

Another commenter unsheathed his serrated blade and attacked her vulnerable anti-white status whoring flank.

So…start with a conclusion (White males are to blame) and then fill in behind it.

Soon we can mechanize/computerize this process and save some wage cost. The out of work pundits can then pick lettuce and eat beans.

We can dream.

Steve is a nice guy, and quite frankly the developed world needs more fearless nice guys like him who appear to be getting rarer by the day. But, I’m not a nice guy, so I’ll give Hornaday the reply she deserves.

Ann, you are a foul, despicable feminist cunt. Your ideology is the stale, safe haven of rejects, defectives, losers, race cuckolds, dweebs, and sexually confused degenerate freaks. Your time is over. Hope this hurts.

Alpha Male Game In The Wild

Reader IHTG forwarded this funny gif of a dude teasing a girl right up to the line of sexual harassment, holding his frame, and then defusing the tension with yet more teasing. Any formal context is missing (which is obviously true for short gifs), but you can figure it out by everyone’s facial expression.

This is a nice little demonstration of the cocky/funny alpha male attitude.

The (one-sided) courtship opens with the male’s exaggerated pose of neediness requesting acknowledgement from the female.

The female responds with a “who, me?” gesture, as most women would to a man brazenly beckoning for them. The rarity of such a thing among the males of the genus westernius Manboobii is what provokes the submissive female auto-response.

The courtship enters the “shock and awe” stage, when the alpha male “air swats” the female’s buttocks.

Now that the pair are fully engaged with one another, the female expresses anger and indignation toward the alpha male for his surprise advance on her posterior. In lioness terms, she evades the male lion’s mounting and wheels around to make a threat display. But we all know how this ends.

The alpha male does not appease the female nor attempt a reconciliation. Instead, he grins sociably, points at the female as if to declare her facial expression the height of comedy, and faces the crowd of onlookers to enlist their support and preempt any move by the female to ostracize him.

Turning back to the female (her hands perched on her hips waiting for his apologia), he extends a handshake of friendship to defuse the escalating sexual tension, only to once again befuddle and arouse the female by pulling his hand away from her just at the moment she prepares to accept his peace offering.

Finally, the courtship reaches the apogee of its first phase, when the alpha male’s cocky antics elicit a smile and a flurry of lighthearted punches from the female, who has been awakened to a state of sexual receptivity and has begun the second phase of the courtship where she “presents” to the alpha male for a continuation of their mating ritual.

In related news, Elliot Rodger never faked out a girl with a phony handshake.

 

The Psychosis Of The Effeminate Male

Elliot Rodger, a 22-year-old mixed race Millennial “here’s why that’s a problem” son of a Chinese woman and a father with a psychopath’s thousand yard stare who was an assistant director for the Hunger Game movie, went on a shooting spree that left four men and two women dead, after which he self-delivered behind the wheel of his BMW.

The rampage is newsworthy in and of itself, but what’s really catapulted it in the public imagination is the killer’s “manifesto“, and the discovery that he was a member of an internet forum called “PUAHate”, which is a homoerotic playground for shut-ins with zero experience saying “hi” to girls, who post epic rants disparaging pickup artists and game and spend inordinate mental energy analyzing the facial measurements of various men in the apparent belief that no man who doesn’t look like George Clooney could ever get laid and should therefore not bother trying to meet women.

After reading excerpts of Rodger’s manifesto, I wondered if my evil twin was taking the piss and fooling everyone with a parody of an incel omega male so over-the-top and cartoonish that only the most gullible would believe it. Examples:

I eventually grew to hate him after I heard him having sex with my sister. I arrived at the house one day, my mother being at work, and heard the sounds of Samuel plunging his penis into my sister’s vagina through her closed room door, along with my sister’s moans. I stood there and listened to it all. … The slob [porking my sister] doesn’t even have a car, and he is able to get girlfriends, while I drive a BMW and get no attention from any girls whatsoever. […]

I made no progress in school either. My geography class had no pretty girls in it, so I had no hope there. I spent a lot of time sitting in the cafeteria area, but all of the beautiful girls I saw intimidated me too much. One time, as I was walking across the huge bridge that connected the two campuses, I passed by a girl I thought was pretty and said “Hi” as we neared each other. She kept on walking and didn’t even have the grace to respond to me. How dare she! That foul bitch. I felt so humiliated that I went to one of the school bathrooms, locked myself in a toilet stall, and cried for an hour. […]

Before I knew it, it was July 12th and the countdown on my internet homepage was up. The new Song of Ice and Fire book, A Dance with Dragons, was released. I emailed my mother to order me the book from Amazon. The countdown was ultimately over, and I had nothing to show for it. I was still a virgin, even after a month of living in a town full of college kids who had sex all the time. I realized that I had only twelve more days as a teenager! I was going to turn twenty very soon. One of my hopes was to at least lose my virginity before my time as a teenager was over. Being a virgin at the age of twenty would make me feel very defeated. I made a bid to do everything I could to lose my virginity in those few remaining days I had. With a tremendous amount of panic, I wondered what I could possible do. The only thing I could think of was to go out to the common areas of Isla Vista as much as possible. I had to put myself out there, even if it only increased my chances of having sex by one percent. One percent was still better than zero. For those crucial twelve days I had left as a teenager, I walked over to the center of Isla Vista every day and sat at one of the tables outside Domino’s Pizza, hoping against hope that a girl would come up and talk to me.
Why wouldn’t they? I looked good enough, didn’t I? Or did I not look good enough? […]

As my frustration grew, so did my anger. I came across this Asian guy who was talking to a white girl. The sight of that filled me with rage. I always felt as if white girls thought less of me because I was half-Asian, but then I see this white girl at the party talking to a full-blooded Asian. I never had that kind of attention from a white girl! And white girls are the only girls I’m attracted to, especially the blondes. How could an ugly Asian attract the attention of a white girl, while a beautiful Eurasian like myself never had any attention from them? I thought with rage. I glared at them for a bit, and then decided I had been insulted enough. I angrily walked toward them and bumped the Asian guy aside, trying to act cocky and arrogant to both the boy and the girl. My drunken state got the better of me, and I almost fell over to the floor after a few minutes of this. They said something along the lines that I was very drunk and that I needed to get some water, so I angrily left them and went out to the front yard, where the main partying happened. Rage fumed inside me as I realized that I just walked away from that confrontation, so I rushed back into the house and spitefully insulted the Asian before walking outside again. […]

Seriously, today at my college I saw this short, ugly Indian guy driving a Honda civic, and he had a hot blonde girl in his passenger seat. What on earth is up with that?!?!? I would climb mount Everest 10 times just to have a girl like that with me. I drive a BMW coupe and I’ve struggled all my life to get a girlfriend. What’s wrong with this world? […]

Unfortunately, all indications are that this guy is was the real deal and the bodies have hit the floor. A few thoughts:

Rodger pings some operational gaydars. There’s his plush gay face. There’s the “try-hard” nature of his manifesto, which reads less like a compendium of genuine pain than a B-movie script of what he’d think a guy with girl troubles would write. It’s so histrionic and maudlin that it could be as easily confused for the hallucinations of a psychopathic degenerate as the plaintive wail of a ronery NOWAG.

It’s telling, too, that his first three victims were all male and he killed them by stabbing, which is a particularly personal method of dispatch, suggesting a level of emotional investment that wasn’t there for the faceless women who bore the brunt of his manifesto ranting. And his narcissism; if you haven’t seen by now, Rodger had a stream of attention whoring pouty-lipped Facebook selfies that would make a dancing bar slut blush. Homosexual men are known to experience greater levels of pathological narcissism.

A repressed young gay man at war with his identity would be the sort to exaggerate his desire for (and troubles with) women. His manifesto references women in the abstract and the rejections he suffered at “their” hands, but few if any specific women who rejected him are named or contextualized. It’s mostly, “Why won’t these girls look at me?” Also, the preoccupation with his looks and other men’s looks and how the world was upside down because ugly men were with cute girlfriends again suggests some latent homosexual feeling.

But these are just suspicions (worth following up on imo, but which the MSM naturally won’t touch). As far as we know, there’s no hard evidence of Rodger’s homosexuality. So, that speculative notion aside, we’ll proceed under the assumption that Elliot Rodger was an incel heterosexual male whose off-key word is true and who really did have trouble getting out of the dugout with girls.

From what I can glean, Elliot Rodger failed with women because he was a social retard. That’s pretty much all there is to it. News stories say he was on meds for asperger’s, and was in therapy. Social retardation diseases like any of the autism spectrum disorders are kryptonite to girls; no behavioral or physical defect is as debilitating to a man’s chances in the sexual market. Proof of his social awkwardness and total lack of anything remotely resembling game is right there in his long-form diary: He thought that “putting himself out there” with girls was sitting on a park bench like Aqualung. That making a serious move on a girl was quickly muttering “hi” as he stumbled past her, later delirious with rage that she didn’t reciprocate with an equally prompt blowjob. That bumping into an Asian dude talking to a cute chick, and glaring at them with his twisted angry face, was acting “cocky and arrogant”. That his effeminate passivity and lack of proactive engagement with women was evidence that they were “ignoring” him.

No, Elliot Rodger was not a failed pickup artist; he was failed human being. A sexless beta male who, stirred and shaken by a lethal cocktail of life circumstances, racial grievance, mental illness, and morbid narcissism that stunted his development into adulthood and compelled him to prefer morose martyrdom to active efforts at self-improvement, found it easier to blame the degree of his brow ridge tilt for his failure with women.

He was the opposite of a failed pickup artist, because at least you know the failed pickup artist tried with women. Rodger apparently never even bothered to try. He just whined that women weren’t sticking to the hood of his Beemer.

All this is to say that, yes, there is a chance that, given an early enough intervention, game could have gotten him laid and quieted his inner rage. Feminists and their manlet enablers will scoff on cue, but giving a young man the tools to help him win the love of a woman (or just a warm smile) will tend to put a damper on his revolutionary kill-em-all spirit.

Which brings us to PUAHate, the forum of which Rodger was a member. It’s not a forum for failed pickup artists as some male feminists licking the taint of their femcunt overwhores will want you to believe. It’s a hangout for socially awkward losers who desperately want to blame their failings with women on their sub-Pitt looks instead of on their awful social calibration and their inability to say two words to a girl without filling their Pokemon underoos. The news that Rodger was a member at that omega male brothel doesn’t demonstrate the failing of game to help him (as a certain lamb of the blogosphere implies) but rather demonstrates that the opposite of game — the cultivated hopelessness that one can’t do anything to improve his relations with women — is what drove Rodger to his extreme misanthropy. If you’re wondering how a 22-year-old can feel so hopeless about his love life, you’re probably an older person who stopped recalling what it was like at that age. The passions run hot and the perspective runs cold.

Elliot Rodger had a girl problem, and that girl problem wasn’t his supposed shortness, or his half-asian ancestry, or his richie rich expectations of immediate rewards and deference from lessers, or his utter blindness to what women really desire in men (hint, it isn’t BMWs). His girl problem was charmlessness. Artlessness. Social retardation. The very tingle-killing flaws that game will remedy.(More indirectly, his girl problem was also the result of the relative paucity of slender attractive girls in the US now. Rodger never wanted to date fat chicks, and no man with a functioning penis can blame him for that.)More thoughts, etc.:

No sense ignoring the race angle. Mixed race people are more likely to have psychological disorders. And Asian men are especially susceptible to dating market lockouts. Throw in the cauldron a stew of vibrant proximate diversity and it’s a surprise suppressed racial/sexual rage doesn’t boil over moreoften.

Rodger was not a bad-looking guy. But he was so ignorant of female sexual nature that he projected onto women what he himself found desirable and obsessed over his looks as his awful personality escaped his attention.

The title of this post is a broad indictment of this infantile Millennial generation, which daily provides evidence that their ranks are filled with effeminate males who, like women, expect the world to cater their needs, no questions asked, no demands made. Elliot Rodger couldn’t stand how unfaaaair girls were to date uglier men than himself, how unfair life was that his car and clothes weren’t a magnet for hot white sorority chicks, how unfair the cosmic laws were to require of him a little bit of effort if he wanted to put an end to his virginity.

Egotistic, attention starved, solipsistic, passive aggressive, perpetually aggrieved, and unwilling to change when posing as a martyr feels so damn good… there’s your new American manlet, same as your new American woman.