The Hazards Of Long Term Relationships

It’s no hard sell to convince most people of the benefits of long term relationships. The intimacy, the shared experiences, the knowing winks and nods in crowded rooms, the quasi-telepathic unspoken understanding, and the cosmically unfathomable depth of love that seems to stop time — there is no better feeling in the world than sex with a woman you love who loves you back with equal fervor. The moment you slip into your lover and simultaneously lock eyes with her is an unparalleled intensity of pleasure that no one night stand, fling or fuck buddy, however passionate, can match.

But it is not an unalloyed good. With the tremendous good comes the risk of treacherous bad, always conniving and usurping to corrode your love and the presumed impregnable strength of your relationship. You must be on guard against these foul subverters at all times if you want to avoid the saddest fate of avoidable heartbreak.

LTRs will make you and her fat and lazy.

The same feeling of comfort and contentment that long term relationships gives to lovers mischievously robs them of the things that helped bring them together in the first place. Satisfaction quickly morphs into self-satisfaction, and the double-edged sword of comfortable monogamy turns its poison-dipped blade on its wielders. Food becomes central to your shared life, sustenance for the heart as well as the body. The powerfully endorphic love you share blinds both of you to encroaching dilapidation — a few pounds here, an aloof demurral to exercise there, an apathetic dismissal of a suggestion for a night on the town — and pretty soon she’s getting fat and sloppy and you’re getting boring. Your dick shrivels, her pussy desiccates. Soon, even the love follows the same tragic descent.

Prevention is simple, if laborious. Mentally frame any relationship as a continual process of falling in love, and every night together as a first date. This will, of course, be easier to do if you have inspiration. Such inspiration comes primarily in the form of your girl keeping herself as hot as she was when she passively wooed you that night you approached her. A woman, as the sex naturally inclined to embracing the herd mentality, will quickly fall in line with a stringent exercise and eating program if you make yourself an example to her. You do this not only by flaunting your self-discipline and your masculine physique, but by allowing other women to flirt with you and to engage the women around you with a charming effrontery that dances along the line between seductive impudence and naive chatter. Pepper conversations with subtle references to your exercise progress and the high you get from feeling and looking so good. Don’t be afraid to be a little cocky.

As the man, you have to lead in this department. If you let yourself go, physically and mentally, she will either follow suit or she will lap you around the race track, in preparation for the day, coming soon, when she cheats on you or leaves you for the man worthy of her 0.7 waist-hip ratio and 21 BMI. Either result is death for the LTR that means anything. You stop wanting to have sex with her or she stops wanting to have sex with you.

LTRs make Jack and Jill dull lovers.

Creativity is the KY that lubes the limbic system. You remember how clever you sounded when you started dating her, and how much effort she put into dressing sexily and acting womanly? The things in our control that make us sexy are a function of our creativity. Over time, your cleverness atrophies from disuse, and her careful consideration of dress and feminine manners dissipates. You become a machine beeping trivialities and trite observations, and she becomes a billowy sweatshirt-wearing task master. You and her are in love, and love eventually subdues the pressure to impress.

A little bit of pressure keeps a relationship fun and fueled on its own momentum. Stay desirable to women besides your lover, and she will be sure to keep herself maximally attractive to you. Don’t fall into dispiriting patterns like taking vacation in the same locales, eating at the same restaurants, buying the same styles year in and year out, gossiping about the same bullshit that 7 billion other dullards gossip about. Again, as the man, you must lead here. Start with the sex. Instead of the usual routine kiss on the cheek when you come home from work, sidle up behind her when she’s in the kitchen, hike her skirt and fuck her from behind. Fuck her in the park. Fuck her on a boat. Fuck her at the top of a ferris wheel. One night of crazy fucking like this is worth ten years of couples therapy.

LTRs will make you and her codependent.

The lament is universal, a staple of sitcoms. “I don’t see my buddy anymore now that he’s got the ol’ ball and chain.” Love is dangerous in one important respect — it will divert a man from his mission(s) in life. His attention now solely focused on his lover, the hobbies, ambitions, social circle and side projects that made him so attractive to her begin to wither under the onslaught of the time-consuming LTR. Like a centrifuge, his self-made identity spins and jettisons away from him, to be replaced by the newly forged identity within the LTR.

Now you can’t do anything without her, and she you. In the beginning, this is a necessary process to build the level of trust and bonding that distinguishes the LTR from any run of the mill fling. But it morphs into a hermetic pair-bond cocoon, a soft escapable prison that shields from the outside world more than it protects. Increasingly consanguineous, the LTR alienates friends and slackens ambitions.

You will have to learn to make time for friends or hobbies in a way you never did as a single man, when friends just appeared and stuff happened. Try to recapture the spontaneity of the single life, and don’t sweat it when your lover wants to do the same with her own friends. Time apart with separate social groups, doing different things, is a battle cry asserting individuality and independence. A woman as much admires and desires the independent man as she fears and envies him. You will never see a brighter twinkle in a lover’s eyes than when, coming home from a night out with your buddies, you regale her with tales of manly impropriety, but then, just when her heartbeat has reached a fevered cadence, you offhandedly muse that you thought about her during the night.

LTRs are monogamous.

Monogamy. The word rouses yearning and trepidation in the male mind at once. A romantic blessing! Or is it a prison? Back and forth it goes, until the typical man resolves the issue by refusing to choose, allowing the choice to be made for him by dwindling options and headstrong harpies.

There is no doubt that men are programmed down to the cilia in their cells to desire sex with a multiplicity of attractive, fertile women. Variety is the spice of life, spread the seed, hogamus higamus etc. Some men have stronger urges to variety than other men, but in all men it is there in lesser or greater degree. The LTR, filled with the bounty of love, nevertheless thwarts a man’s genetic script to seed the wombs of many seed-able women.

For men with low compunction to promiscuity (provider betas), the monogamous relationship is a sweetheart deal: they give up something they weren’t all that gung-ho to pursue anyhow, for something that brings them much joy. Men with a raging libido and a wandering eye (caddish alphas) more or less suffer indignities under the LTR regime, and their predatory lust must be either squelched or sated, the former apt to inflict psychological and testicular distress while the latter a sure destruction of the intimate love that cannot tolerate infidelity except in the most feral societies.

The problem, all too familiar to readers of this blog, arises from the fact that the LTR-pursuing betas are less likely to tingle the ginas of LTR-loving women than the lustful alphas who must be dragged kicking and screaming into monogamous obligation. What a cruel joke nature has played on us all! To tempt men and women with a prize they both want, but to establish a set of playing rules that subverts the very prize to be won, and handicaps the players most invested in the game.

Many PUAs and gurus claim that this circle can be squared; that is, that the skilled seducer can have his cake and eat it, too. He can enjoy the love expressed in an LTR while getting some action on the side.

I have heard these stories, and even seen it play out in real life. But my opinion remains negative on the enterprise. For the overwhelmingly majority of men, from high to low station, game to gameless, it is an unrealistic and mostly unattainable trick to lock in a lover for the long haul while openly satisfying his sexual need for variety. Sooner or later, it will come to a head; the LTR will evaporate into divorce or loveless airs as the repeated insult of open infidelity scours his lover’s emotional bond, or the mistresses will remain discreet behind a wall of lies and resigned toleration by the put-upon woman, the way the French do it.

Naturally, the more alpha a man is, the greater his chances to pull off this pseudo-polygamous hat trick, owing primarily to the fact that women are quicker to forgive the vices of an alpha lover than a beta lover. But even alpha has its limits, and a woman who was once enthralled by her lover’s sexy but risky enticements will someday age both psychologically and chronologically, lose her estrogenic steam, and collapse under the weight of the betrayals. A man can love more than one woman at once, but a woman cannot love more than one man at once. She, at best, can only sex more than one man concurrently. She, ultimately, finds the fullness of her love manifest in the singular, unshared love of one man to whom she is faithfully devoted.

And so for this last part I have no answer. You, as a man, will have to choose what is more important to you: transcendent, unpolluted love, or visceral sexual pleasure. You may attempt to hide your mistresses, and that may work for a while, but it may also not work, and you will have to live with the little lies of omission for as long as you and your lover are together. Some men, particularly the ones most desired by women, are devoid of the moral sense, or sustain a cartoonish, wilted version of it, and can live side by side with lies and not give it a moment’s doubt or self-reflection.

You can also try your hand at an open relationship, wherein your lover knows you seek novel pussy on the side and you, presumably, allow her to do the same with novel cock. But realistically, most men will not be able to abide a lover’s infidelity, no matter how contractually agreed upon. The thought alone of a girlfriend or wife fucking another man, however many mistresses that man himself may indulge, will drive him to a fever. Men by nature and given a free choice would collect concubines and prefer those lovers guarded by eunuchs, not by virile male competitors.

Finally, there is the long shot of the one-way open relationship, aka the royal harem. She remains sexually and emotionally loyal to you, while you get to screw around whenever the feeling hits you. No lies, no subterfuge; everything is out in the open. In my experience, this can be done if your game is incredibly tight, BUT…

It won’t work forever. It won’t even work for a year. A few months is closer to the reality, and odds are it will end in a huge flame-out rather than a genial handshake. Some top PUAs love to crow about their ability to tie down girls into one-way open LTRs, and I have no reason to speculate about their honesty, but I do doubt many of these master seducers are pulling anything like this for more than a few months at a time. (Exceptions exist, but seriously, how long did Stephane Hemon’s threesome LTR last?) Women are certainly capable of swooning unreasonably for a truly charismatic alpha male, and agreeing to arrangements against their interests which in regards to any lesser man would strike women as laughable propositions, but to play kept woman in a real harem rather than a de facto harem shrouded in the mists of plausible deniability, exciting and drama-fueled as it is, is a contrivance guaranteed to end badly when the intoxication of labial lust wears off.

No matter how hot, young and vivacious your LTR lover is, your eye will someday wander, because it is in your nature as a man to want to fuck every sweet piece of ass who crosses your line of vision. To accommodate this visceral desire, you can abdicate the pursuit of LTRs and stay a single poon hound, you can enjoy an LTR while shooting for strange under cover of night, or you can make peace with your urges and learn to abide them unsatisfied as part of the LTR deal. Many men — most men, in fact — accept the latter, and do so without too much regret. The trade-offs, it seems, are worth it.

The choice is less a moral one than a practical one, inasmuch as animal desires supposedly bequeathed us by god can’t be said to have moral underpinnings. What do you prioritize? What gives you the greatest happiness? There’s your answer.

Marilyn Monroe Was Skinny

I really love these posts that rip feminist mythology to shreds (a fun and easy sport even the kids will love!). You can just imagine their porky forehead veins throbbing with rage as they read the following article by Virginia Postrel:

We should never again hear anyone declare that Marilyn Monroe was a size 12, a size 14 or any other stand-in for full-figured, zaftig or plump. Fifteen thousand people have now seen dramatic evidence to the contrary. Monroe was, in fact, teeny-tiny.

The 15,000 were the visitors who turned out over eight days to oooh and aaah at the preview exhibit for the June 18 auction of Debbie Reynolds’s extraordinary collection of Hollywood costumes, props and other memorabilia.

The two comments heard most often in the crowded galleries were (to paraphrase), “Wow, they were thin” and “It’s such a shame. These things should be in a museum.” […]

The auction’s top-ticket item was Monroe’s famous white halter dress from “The Seven Year Itch,” the one that billowed up as the subway passed. It sold for almost $5.66 million (including the buyer’s premium) to an unknown phone bidder. Sharing a rotating mirrored platform with Hedy Lamarr’s peacock gown from “Samson and Delilah” and Kim Novak’s rhinestone- fringed show dress from “Jeanne Eagels,” Monroe’s costume was displayed on a mannequin that had been carved down from a standard size 2 to accommodate the tiny waist. Even then, the zipper could not entirely close.

But that’s just one dress. Perhaps the star was having a skinny day. To check, you could look across the room and see that Monroe’s red-sequined show dress from “Gentlemen Prefer Blondes” was at least as petite, as were the saloon costume from “River of No Return” and the tropical “Heat Wave” outfit from “There’s No Business Like Show Business.

In fact, the average waist measurement of the four Monroe dresses was a mere 22 inches, according to Lisa Urban, the Hollywood consultant who dressed the mannequins and took measurements for me. Even Monroe’s bust was a modest 34 inches.

That’s not an anecdote. That’s data.

The other actresses’ costumes provided further context. “It’s like half a person,” marveled a visitor at the sight of Claudette Colbert’s gold-lame “Cleopatra” gown (waist 18 inches). “That waist is the size of my thigh,” said a tall, slim man, looking at Carole Lombard’s dress from “No Man of Her Own” (a slight exaggeration — it was 21 inches). Approaching Katharine Hepburn’s “Mary of Scotland” costumes, a plump woman declared with a mixture of envy and disgust, “Another skinny one.”

The pattern she noticed was real. At my request, Urban took waist measurements on garments worn by 16 different stars, from Mary Pickford in 1929 (20 inches) to Barbra Streisand in 1969 (24 inches). The thickest waist she found was Mae West’s 26 inches in “Myra Breckinridge,” when the actress was 77 years old.

The average waist size of American women in 2011?: 34.5 inches.

The insistence by fatty fat fatty apologists and the misfit motley crew of “cultural conditioning” feminists that Marilyn Monroe was a plump woman, a chubby chick, Rubenesque, zaftig, or, (my personal favorite), cuuuuuuurvy is nothing but the oinks of lying propagandists who want you to believe that men have since been somehow magically programmed by… who, exactly? Government agents? Hollywood? Frat boys? Stuxnet?… to prefer anorexic chicks over their true preference for supposed chubsters like Monroe.

For a long time this claim went unanswered; one, because no one bothered to fact check its self-evident PC truthiness, and two, because loudmouthed, ugly femcunts have cowed journalists and pundits into abject submission. But now the facts are in: Marilyn Monroe was a SLENDER BABE. There wasn’t a BBW bone in her skinny sexy body.

Women REALLY WERE thinner back in what the feminists call the bad old days. There wasn’t some fairytale fatopia in the 1950s when the men lusted for rotund mamas, and women were real women with curves and meat on the bones. Nope, women of the past were definitely thinner, and they were even thinner than what we would consider a thin girl today! That’s how warped our professed standards in female beauty have become. Men and women alike have drunk the feminist Koolaid, and coupled with the inability to avoid the sheer numbers of fat chicks rumbling over our frappuccino plains the result is a grudging, deflating acceptance that bigger, fatter, heftier women are here to stay, and baby you better believe they are HOT STUFF. A lot of men, seeing how few options they have when 9/10s of their prospects roll with a mushroom cloud top, are gonna revert to the one face-saving ploy in their arsenal: sour grapes.

“Hey man, I don’t want some anorexic bag of bones. Fat-bottomed girls make the rockin’ world go round. A whole lotta woman needs a whole lot more. Big girls you are beautiful!”

Nice try, JoeBob, but I know what you’re really thinking.

(Ever notice how gay male rockstars love to sing the praises of fat chicks? Wazzupwitdat?)

This is all part and parcel of a cultural plumping up of the American woman over the last half century to go along with her actual plumping up. Dress sizes have changed to accommodate the tender egos of the lardasses thundering around clothing stores now, so that, for example, what once was a size 10 dress is now a size 6 dress. What was considered a really fat chick in 1950 might’ve worn a size 15, but today the typical fat chick is so much fatter than her 1950s counterpart that she slips into the equivalent of a dainty size 38 number.

You can’t blame the retailers and clothing manufacturers, though. They just want to turn a profit, and if that means giving fatties an artificial high from being able to claim they wear a smaller size than they really do, then they’ll minimize dress sizes forever. If present trends are indicative of future results, a size 0 dress will soon be able to double as a mosquito net.

The fattening of American women is a goddamned fucking TRAGEDY. It robs the country of beautiful women, and thus robs American men of tactile sexual pleasure and aesthetic visual pleasure. A direct analogy would be if the nation’s men all decided to quit their jobs, shart on first dates, act like nervous dweebs and change diapers for a hobby. Yeah, don’t sound so hot, does it ladies? Now maybe you can grasp why every evangelical equalist effort to normalize expanding waistlines and rolling waves of blubber is a sin committed against beauty, and thus, against truth.

Game isn’t so much about being able to play the field in perpetuity as it is about navigating a shrinking dating pool of sexy slender chicks getting squeezed by an advancing army of fat chicks. It’s been written here before: as the expendable sex, men react to conditions in the sexual market; they don’t create those conditions. And right now conditions are Code Well-Fed, mothafuckaaaaaa.

PS I’d like to start a new advocacy group called the National Association for the Advancement of Half-Weight Women. God bless those half-weight women we’ve lost to the tidal wave of sugar and midnight snacking. Boners unite under the banner of Half-Weight Women! Raise your flag and smite the enemy Double-Weight Women! Smite them with a cupcake avalanche!

Why Most Libertarians Stupidly Embrace Open Borders

A core principle of libertarianism is the free movement of labor. On paper, this principle sounds admirable, even workable. That damned paper! Libertarians would have to betray a lot of what they believe in to accept that restrictions on the free movement of labor are advantageous, economically and culturally, for a nation’s well-being. Thus, they don’t. Instead, they pull an ostrich and ignore the negative externalities that mass immigration has brought to the USA. Free movement of labor is such an entrenched free market concept that many libertarians have taken to arguing that open borders is a natural, and moral, extension of the principle.

But when does free movement of labor across national borders as a concept break down? Three heretofore largely unexamined premises should enlighten those who believe the concept is trustworthy.

1. As Milton Friedman said, open borders and the welfare state cannot coexist. If one country offers a generous welfare package to all and sundry that immigrants cannot get in their own countries, they will happily cross unguarded borders to take advantage of the manna from government heaven. Who pays for this manna? Why, you, the productive libertardian citizen. There’s a word for your kind. Sucker.

2. Population group differences in human capital are real. If country A is filled with highly productive and intelligent citizens on average, and countries B, C and D are filled with less productive and less intelligent citizens on average, what do you think will happen when the bulk of countries’ B, C and D least productive citizens emigrate to country A? A libertarian in good standing will argue that those B, C and D immigrants will do the crappy jobs that need doing, and the natives who are displaced from those jobs will be incentivized to educate themselves and get better paying and higher status jobs. Hey great! Except what happens if those displaced native citizens, due to innate limitations, CAN’T DO MORE CHALLENGING JOBS? What you’ll get is what we are seeing today: a structural increase in the chronic unemployment rate. Bootstrap philosophy has been thoroughly discredited by the advancing scientific knowledge in genetics.

3. Evidence suggests political ideology is genetically imbued and thus mostly immutable. Latin Americans — specifically those of Amerindian ethnicity — consistently vote 2/3rds for Democrats and more state intervention. What do libertardians think will happen to their precious policy proposals when a 2/3rds majority of 50 million illegal migrants, continuing in perpetuity with their children and children’s children, vote for politicians who believe in the exact opposite of what libertarians believe? Does this really need spelling out?

Why do I give libertarians so much shit? I share an affinity with their worldview, so when they fuck up it inspires me to level the hammer of Thor on their blockheads. It’s like how you give your brother way more shit for fucking up than you would a stranger. Being of your blood, he should know better.

DSK And False Rape Accusations

The rape case against DSK is falling apart because the accuser’s story isn’t adding up. She’s inconsistent and contradicting herself, according to prosecutors who are now debating whether to go forward with the charge.

Back in May, I wrote, in connection with the accuser’s statement that she was orally raped:

Is it even possible to mouth rape without some modicum of consent? Women have teeth; they could just chomp down.

I had a suspicion this story was fishy from the get-go. Feminists (of course!) will claim otherwise, that mouth rape is a plausible criminal offense, but the more plausible belief is that forcing your dick into an *unwilling* woman’s mouth is a dangerous sport and liable to get it bitten off. Or at least nicked, which is pretty damned painful on the sensitive penis shaft.

So the fact that this Guinean woman claimed to be mouth raped immediately roused me to disbelief. Roused, baby! And now it seems my initial gut reaction was correct: the bitch be lyin’. The fact that she was a foreign national also fueled my suspicions. Contrary to popular conception, the world isn’t full of Anglo-Germanic proto-Americans ready to be assimilated without incidence into the glorious melting pot.

False rape accusations seem to be on the rise. I remember reading a startling factoid somewhere that fully 50% of all rape charges are false. Can anyone dig up the data? I’d be curious if the trendline on FRAs is rising.

This is not to say that alpha males never do bad shit. When you are king of the world, you start to believe your turds are gold-plated, and nothing can touch you. DSK probably did something bad that nevertheless didn’t cross the rape line. But women are manipulative little creatures given the right incentives, and those who aren’t in love know they can leverage a wealthy and famous alpha male’s vices into personal gain and profit. This doesn’t happen as often as it could, because women involved with alpha males are usually in love with them, the power of being alpha and the influence it has on women’s feelings being what it is. It’s the loveless whores that alphas need to be wary of. (Paging Tiger Woods.) My suggestion to alpha males: If you’re gonna fuck around with the help and the strippers, throw them a bone occasionally. Tell her she smells nice, and you smiled when you thought about her today.

An Old Chateau Concept Confirmed By Science

Years ago, the writers of this blog made the bold and controversial assertion that female economic empowerment and growing government largesse were helping to fuel the desire of women to ride the alpha cock carousel in their 20s, only to settle down with a beta provider later in life when their sexual peak had been passed.

Bleeding heart compassion has cursed blessed the country with layers of safety nets that subvert the natural cleansing of losers from contributing to the next generation. The result of all this government largesse is the substitution of handouts for husbands. When provider males who are predisposed to marry and support a family are worth less on the market than they used to be they are slowly replaced by playboys taking advantage of the sexual climate. Women who have their security needs met by Big Government (in combination with their own economic empowerment) begin to favor their desire for sexy, noncommital alpha males at the expense of their attraction for men who will foot the bills.

Prediction: As women’s financial status rises to levels at or above the available men in their social sphere, they will have great difficulty finding an acceptable long-term partner. The men, for their part, will turn away from emphasizing their ability to provide as they discover their mediocre-paying corporate jobs are no longer effective displays of mating value. They will instead emphasize the skills of “personality dominance”.

This blog = perceptive. Prophetic, even. Now science has come around to the Chateau point of view with a new study that shows women with money problems prefer softer, beta men who would make good resource provider candidates.

Those [women] primed to worry about their finances showed the least interest in the macho men, the Royal Society journal Biology Letters reports.

This, according to the Australian researchers, suggests that when money is short women are attracted to gentler types, who are seen as good providers and more likely to stick around when times are tough.

The macho men, however, were most attractive to the women made to worry about their health.

This may be because masculinity can be a sign of good genes – and a man who will give a woman strong and healthy children.

The researchers concluded there are evolutionary advantages in a woman’s taste in men being flexible.

This would allow women ‘to adapt their preferences to rapid changes in the environment such as pathogen outbreak or a famine’, they said.

Or to adapt their preferences to rapid changes in the environment such as the introduction of the Pill, feminism and economic self-sufficiency.

So here we have scientific evidence proving a core Chateau concept that women who are materially comfortable — as many women became after their assault on the workforce and colleges beginning in the 1970s — are less likely to seek out beta providers and more likely to indulge their hypergamous drives and sex it up with studly alpha cads; that is, until Father Time cruelly etches the first of his brandings on delicate, feminine faces. This would go a long way to explaining why age of first marriage has been steadily climbing since 1970; more years devoted to schooling to make the middle class money, yes, but also more years to slut it up with the high status alphas women truly desire but don’t need for material resource procurement.

Women who missed the big feminist bandwagon of the last 40 years and didn’t go to college or make a decent salary are the ones who pine for gentle, beta herbs to take them under their wing and provide a home, food and shopping money. So feminism has indeed been a boon for alpha males who want sex on the cheap with a harem of hypergamous concubines, and a living hell for betas who have been left out in the cold, waiting their turn for the ladies to age into their late 20s and 30s before getting a chance to drop on bended knee for the last ditch lock-up.

Also of note: Women who worried about health problems were attracted to the masculine studs. So if you are an alpha male with game and a goal to bed as many women as possible before kicking off, your best bet is to target hypochondriac careerist chicks.

If you are a beta male who would love nothing more than to snuggle after gently executed missionary sex and debate which color to paint the foyer, your best bet is to target in-shape athletic women who come from poor families and have crappy jobs.

Best,

Yours in politically incorrect but bracingly truthful dating advice.

Running Solo

A reader asks:

First of all, great blog.  A lot of the information conveyed here has been useful to me in consciously making a positive impact on my “gaming” skills….it’s almost eerie to think back and realize the times where I unknowingly ran game and was getting the strongest attraction without knowing why.

Anyhow, I’m more of an introverted guy….21, recently started going to bars on the regular.  However, most of the time I run solo.  I’ve lurked here for awhile now and gotten a good feel for game, but there’s still some psychological itch about not running with a group as often as I used to that makes things feel somewhat awkward.  I’ve searched the blog, but found nothing specific pertaining to “solo” game.  Are there any specifics that you would suggest keeping in mind when going it alone?

One specific problem I’ve run into is my age….a lot of the 23 + older girls seem to have their interest doused by hearing that I’m a mere 21 years old, even if everything else has been going smoothly.

I used to run solo at least twice a week. My best pickups (that is, the hottest chicks I banged and the quickest I moved the seductions to the bedroom) happened when I approached a girl or group of girls by myself. Unless you’re still in college, you shouldn’t be rolling with more than two buddies, anyhow. The more men in your group, the douchier you look, and the less courageous you’ll seem to girls who have to deal with wolf packs of sausage eyeballing them every time they go out.

The awkwardness you feel is strictly a fear based on how you will be perceived by girls. The act of running solo itself is not the cause of your bad feelings. It’s the fear that girls will think you are a loner without friends.

In my experience, this fear is totally overblown. Most girls don’t immediately lurch to thoughts about your lack of friends when you approach them solo. They are sizing you up and that is a function entirely of your game. When going out alone, just enter a frame of mind that you are the mysterious, dark stranger with a wealth of worldly experiences to share with someone worthy of your company. If girls ask about your friends, tell them you left them behind at a crappy party that was too pretentious for your tastes. Or just say you went out without them because they hold you back.

As for your age, my advice is to lie if you want to take the path of least resistance. It’s true that a lot of girls have a mental checklist that forbids them from dating younger men. Women are, by and large, viscerally attracted to older men. The cougar phenomenon is swamped by the older man-younger woman dynamic. If you don’t want the hassle of dealing with this constraint on women’s desires, then just fib about your age.

On the other hand, it’s a relatively simple subterfuge to neutralize an older woman’s objection to sleeping with you.

HER: You look young. How old are you?

YOU: You first.

HER: 23.

YOU: Oh, too bad.

HER: What?

YOU: You’re too young for me. I normally date women in their 30s. I find them much more interesting to be around.

HER: [massive self-qualifiying]

If you have good game, age won’t be much of a barrier to sex. Or love.

Diversity + Proximity = War

In the clearest illustration yet of this infamous Chateau maxim, a new study is out showing how increased diversity in the form of bordered territory is leading to more war.

Wars steadily increase for over a century, fed by more borders and cheaper conflict.

New research by the University of Warwick and Humboldt University shows that the frequency of wars between states increased steadily from 1870 to 2001 by 2% a year on average. The research argues that conflict is being fed by economic growth and the proliferation of new borders.

We may think the world enjoyed periods of relative freedom from war between the Cold War and 9/11 but the new research by Professor Mark Harrison from at the University of Warwick’s the Centre for Competitive Advantage in the Global Economy, and Professor Nikolaus Wolf from Humboldt University, shows that the number of conflicts between pairs of states rose steadily from 6 per year on average between 1870 and 1913 to 17 per year in the period of the two World Wars, 31 per year in the Cold War, and 36 per year in the 1990s.

Professor Mark Harrison from the University of Warwick said: “The number of conflicts has been rising on a stable trend. Because of two world wars, the pattern is obviously disturbed between 1914 and 1945 but remarkably, after 1945 the frequency of wars resumed its upward course on pretty much the same path as before 1913.”

One of the key drivers is the number of countries, which has risen dramatically – from 47 in 1870 to 187 in 2001.

People like to form into competing groups. This natural impulse is encoded in every human being’s DNA. It is a deeply embedded encoding, and can’t be excised. It can only be controlled by authoritarian measures, i.e. ultimately at the point of a gun. More 20th century borders is likely the manifestation of these ancient desires seeking to congeal into ever smaller, and thus more closely related, human tribes, and now being free to do so. It should be no surprise to a realist of human nature that more borders would lead to more war.

Naturally, the hopelessly naive among you might ask, “Why not just dissolve borders like we are doing here in the USA? Fewer borders should mean less war, right?” Incorrect. What instead will happen — and what we are seeing happening today in the USA — is a chaotic scramble — a BIOLOGICAL IMPERATIVE — to form de facto borders within the essentially borderless nation. (The modern USA is the closest approximation we have to an essentially borderless nation ruled by a legitimate government. There is no way to explain the unsupervised migration of 50 million Mexicans in 30 years that starts with the premise that we have a working border mechanism in place.)

De facto internal borders are based on race, ethnicity, religion, ideology, and social status, just as hard borders. La Raza is an internal border. The Congressional Black Caucus is an internal border. Journalism is an internal border (80-90% of journalists are registered Democrats). Cosmopolitan elites are an internal border. Schools are an internal border (ever notice how students congregate in a lunchroom cafeteria? How about the quickness with which urban white elites set off for the decidedly less diverse suburbs when the kids reach schooling age?). J-Date is an internal border. NASCAR is an internal border. Libertardian blogs are an internal border. Gay Pride and Puerto Rican Day parades are internal borders. Gerrymandered districts are internal borders. Neighborhoods are internal borders. Of course, one notable group has no recognized internal border at all. And we know what happens to undefended, borderless lands: they get overrun.

Active wars of bloodshed might not be the result of such internal border-making (though don’t count your ammo before it’s fired), but all the political machinations and propaganda of hot wars are there in spades in our relatively bloodless diversity wars. The only thing missing is the stack of dead, uniformed bodies. “Uniformed” being the operative word here.

A country as (formerly) gifted with human capital as the USA can live with a little bit of diversity. But like every other nation on earth, beholden as we all are to our Darwinian overlord, it can’t live with a lot of it. We’ll soon find that out.