“Are You Seeing Anyone?”

A reader emails:

Really loved the “it’s complicated” post, and have found lots of versatile use for it in my life. Thinking about it though, I think it’s most effective with women new to you as opposed to women you have history with. I also don’t think it should be used as a text response. Some of my ex’s will hit me up out of the blue via text, usually playful messages, but sometimes with the direct inquiry “are you seeing anyone?” that only a woman (or clueless beta orbiter) would ask. While “it’s complicated” would now be my default response to a new girl at a bar if she asked the same, I think it sounds too defensive and pandering to an ex, as though you’re trying to hide something from someone who already knows you very well. [Ed: Agreed.] I also think it doesn’t have the same effectiveness if used as a text reply to anyone.

I went with this exchange recently:

aspirational ex-girlfriend: Are you seeing anyone?
(next morning) me: you workin for tmz now?

Good answer. Cocky and funny, jes like da ladeez like it. She also appreciates the haphazard attention to punctuation.

“Are you seeing anyone?” is a common enough question from interested women that the proper handling of it deserves its own post. (Rumor has it there are a lot of sniveling gameless betas who ask women this question when they first meet them. Pitiable creatures.)

If an ex-girlfriend, former fuckbuddy or platonic female friend who you think wants to revisit the good times with you, (or who simply wants to segue from friendship to sex), asks if you are seeing anyone, and you have decided that “it’s complicated” is not the best response, there are alternatives at your disposal.

1. Sincerity

“I’ve been dating someone for a bit, but I can’t say for sure she is the one.”

2. Lying

“No.”*

3. Evasion/Reframing

See: the reader’s reply above. Few women will follow-up an expertly delivered evasion with cunty lawyerly argumentation. This is because women who ask such questions don’t really want to know the unvarnished answer. The question is asked only to give them plausible deniability should they find themselves bedding a taken man.

4. Circumspection

“I’m dating around.”

This is my favorite answer, regardless of its accuracy. First, it shuts down further inquiry. Second, it leaves things open to interpretation.

5. Challenge

“I’m not tied down yet.”

6. Agree & Amplify

“One?”

7. Aloofness

“Nothing serious.”

Also a personal favorite. Girls like to think the guys they desire have no worries about meeting and banging women, or about settling down.

*”No” is not the ideal reply. Because of the power of preselection, you run a better chance of losing her interest if she thinks you are completely single than you do if she thinks you are getting pussy regularly. So even if you aren’t seeing anyone, you should massage your answer so that ambiguity is introduced to the dialectic. Women aren’t put off a man’s scent if he is seeing someone; if anything, they become more like a bloodhound on his trail. The only exception is when the man sings odes of love and devotion to his woman. Competitor women will generally** back off if they see that the man they want is truly, deeply in love with someone else.

**Before the fairy dust, pie in the sky, swoon brigade gets all gushy at this optimistic outlook on the female gender, let me remind the studio audience that I have observed, and experienced, plenty of exceptions to this rule.

Replies that you should avoid:

“Define ‘seeing’.”

Too goofy. Chicks don’t dig the goof.

“Not sure.”

Too indecisive. Chicks don’t dig vacillators.

“Well, I’m fucking someone, if that’s what you mean.”

Too visual and sexual. Chicks don’t dig braggarts.

“I’m married.”

Too final. Chicks need a window of opportunity.

“Aren’t you the nosy one?”

Too slippery and awkward. What are you hiding?

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Too abrasive. If she’s an ex who knows you well, this albeit funny line will close off further exploration.

“Why do you ask?”

Too defensive. Also, why would you step on her hamster right as its revving up for a glorious rationalization to sleep with you?

Commenters are available during business hours to help you with further suggestions.

The Subtle Heartbreak Of Female Aging

One of the most famous photographs in history is the “Afghan Mona Lisa”, a pic taken by a National Geographic photographer in the 1980s of a 12 or 13 year old Afghan girl on the cusp of womanhood. In the pic, you can see her nascent, striking beauty beginning to assert itself. Many years later, that girl, now a grown woman, was tracked down and another photograph of her at approximate age 30 was taken. Here are the two pics side by side:

Tragedy. Beauty is but a flicker in the quickly brightening and fading light of a woman’s lifetime. If you think women don’t feel stress competing in the dating market, look at this photo for a helpful reminder of the Damocles Sword of sexual expiration that dangles over the head of every woman. Unlike men whose urgency centers on relieving the pressure valve in their gonads, women are inextricably bound to a powerful, implacable emotional urgency centered on the need to capitalize on their beauty before time runs out. Women have made a pact with the devil — in return for the promise of exquisite beauty, their window to this world of lavish male attention is woefully brief.

But the reason for this post and the inclusion of the photo above is to draw your eye to the nearly imperceptible changes in a woman’s face as she ages a mere 15 years. These changes — so subtle in their alterations — can produce an effect upon the male eye and penis such that she is rendered sexually invisible to him, if not outright repulsive. A tiny droop here, a blotch there, a shadow cast at the wrong aspect — minute changes to facial composition that one would be hard-pressed to pinpoint and elucidate will nevertheless, taken on the whole, turn a woman from a glorious sexual and feminine creature to a sorry bag of undifferentiated human flesh.

For example, let’s closely examine what exactly has changed between the 13-year old Afghan girl and her 30 year old self that she should now look like a witch instead of a blossoming beauty. This will be harder than you think.

– The lips are generally the same shape, but now the corners droop ever so slightly, as can be seen by the diagonal shadow extending from lip to jowl.

– Her skin, while free of acne and disfigurements, has become blotchy. Various hues of crimson compete for real estate on her cheeks and chin.

– Her nose, while still mostly the same shape and size, has acquired a barely perceptible downward tilt and a bonier countenance, cursing her with the aforementioned witchy visage.

– Her eyes have gotten relatively beadier, though this diminution is so tiny as to be measured in units smaller than millimeters. Yet the male brain and eyes, wired and honed to lacerating, and cruel, perfection by millions of years of evolution ensuring that only the most fertile women stake claim to his resource and emotional investments, has no trouble at all judging the tiniest millimeter differences in female facial composition for sexual worthiness.

– Her eyebrows, a little bushier, though again the change is small. But small changes make all the difference.

– The orbs of her eyes themselves have dulled, the glimmer of youthful vitality and emerging sexuality faded after a twinkle in time of only 15 years.

– Her chin has become bulbous. It has added perhaps no more than a half centimeter in the horizontal from her former chin size.

– She has grown incipient jowls, but we cannot tell this from any fat accumulation, which appears minor at best. Rather, we can tell by the “greater than”-shaped shadow that runs jagged from her cheekbone to her jawline.

– There is an ever-so-slight band of darkness under her eyes. The fat pockets that puff out the underlids of the orbital sockets are typically the first to waste away from the ravages of aging.

***

This was a brutal assessment, and the goal was to demonstrate that aging takes its toll on women in ways so subtle, and yet so deleterious and frighteningly fast, that the signs can be easily missed by a woman who has become accustomed to male attention in her late teens and early 20s, and in fact has become inured to the degradation in her sexual value by staring at her face every day in the mirror.

Naturally, some of you will say that Afghanistan is a tough place, and any woman living there would age faster than her pampered Western counterpart. You would be correct, as far as that goes. But the same unstoppable forces — like a tide of horrors — that have ruined the gift of this Afghan woman’s face to the world are at work ruining the faces of millions of Western women blowing away their prime years on mimosas and cock hopping. The only difference are the high tech cosmetics and treatments available in the West that helps stem the tide for a few years.

But that is all it is: a few years. A lucky American woman blessed with good genes and healthy living might be able to put off the withering Afghanistization of her face for perhaps five, or maybe even ten, extra years, holding the witch at bay until age 35-40. Sadly, for most American women, the malignant obesity epidemic has guaranteed that they will lose their beauty long before it is fairly taken from them, if they ever had it at all.

Men, when you remind yourselves of the unimaginable torment that women must experience as their number one asset abandons them with a fury to the cold, uncaring apathetic eyes of the sexual market…

be thankful that you are a man.

Denying Women Sex Is Psychologically Lethal

It’s also a fantastic game technique. As women are the gatekeepers to sex, it is implicitly understood that they will be the ones to choose when and where to give it up, and men, for the most part, fall in line with this implied narrative accordingly. And that is why they fail. But flip the script on women — that is, be the one to play hard to get, and the one to be coy about the chance for sex — and you will have mindfucked your seduction target so thoroughly she will find herself, against all her natural proclivities, working hard for your sexual lavishment.

Reader “Alpha Newb” emails:

I came across your blog about 3 wks. ago and I’m fully convinced it’s the best thing on the web for males.  My only regret is that I didn’t come across this damn thing about 10 years ago when it could have really helped me in high school.  Anyways, I’m a young male in my upper 20’s with a mix of beta and alpha qualities (now I’ve finally found ways to weed out the beta) and I wanted to share a success story after spending a couple weeks on your site:

My g/f and I were in a fight and then made up.  She started kissing me and I told her I didn’t feel like messing around, given everything that had happened earlier.  She said ok and the night went on as normal.  A few hours later she went into her room and came out in nothing but a thong, jumped on top of me, and started making out with me.  Now this is where I would have normally given in but taking things I had learned from this site I stuck with what I had told her earlier.  I pushed her off and told her she needed to respect my earlier decision not to get physical that night. She gave a bunch of typical whinny girl pleas until she finally gave up, whimpering and defeated.  When I was about to leave she finally let me in on what was going on in her head and here is what she said word for word:

“I’m just afraid you’re going to leave here feeling really empowered and I just don’t like that.”

Seriously, her words.

Need I say more…

no, but two days later when I saw her again she was begging for it like never before and I gave it to her and she enjoyed it multiple times.  The hamster had been in full sprint mode for two days and I could tell.

I am in debt to you my friend for your wisdom.

My g/f is as well for the multiple orgasms.

-Alpha Newb

Also, one more question, if a girl finds out you are running systemized game on her, is it systemized game over?

The empowered line is probably her hamster rationalizing why she felt hornier when you denied her sex. The underlying ancestral ape-brain reason has to do with your value shooting through the roof vis-á-vis her value, and how that dynamic arouses her beyond anything she had thought possible. She didn’t want to have sex with you to regain hand, at least not subconsciously; she wanted sex with you because your upper hand inflamed her desire.

It’s not entirely a rationalization, though. Women do feel worry — something akin to dread — when their lovers show signs of sexual apathy. A woman’s main relationship currency is her vagina and her looks. When those go, so goes the relationship if the man has any sort of dating market options at all. (If she has him legally tied and bound in the straitjacket of marriage, the relationship can linger for decades in an asexual limbo.) A man who has the presence of mind and the cool as fuck calm to deny sex to his GF is a man who, in her hamster-fueled mind, is halfway out the door, or even fucking some strange on the side.

Women, in other words, feel most empowered — and thus most secure — in an unmarried relationship only so long as they inspire uncontrollable lust in their men. A man who is on the fence with his sexual desire, or a man who seems marginally committed to investing his emotional and physical payload — that is, a man who has supernatural stoic control of his lust —  can extract all kinds of kinky sexual concessions from his woman. See: Story of O.

Given that, there is reason for women to want to maintain sexual hand in a relationship. While young slender women generally have options (if not an inclination) to fuck around profligately with any available loser, men don’t have that sort of readily exchangeable sexual barter. So a man who impresses upon a woman that he has options — through the game tactics of takeaways, push/pull, jealousy plotlines or sex denying — sets himself apart from the mass of men, and instills an excruciating level of worry, and lust, in his lover.

Denying women sex is a huge DHV. It’s also one of the simpler ways to instantly raise your value relative to her. So why do so few men avail themselves of this technique? The answer goes beyond mere horniness. Men are conditioned from pre-birth to play the roles of pleasers, toadies, wish fulfillers, suckups, courters, suitors, impressers, approval seekers and ego assuagers when relating to attractive girls. From the first strand of DNA, men have an innate compulsion to “win” women over. To win their approval, their admiration, their pats on the back. It is difficult not only to recognize this compulsion within each of us, but to upend it and do exactly the opposite.

And yet doing the opposite will get you more sex with hotter women. It is one of the weirdest paradoxes of humanity. Do you want to be one of those lapdogs begging for scraps from “empowered” women, or do you want women tripping over themselves trying to please you sexually? Have you made your decision for Lucifer yet? Then deny your GF, your date, your wife sex. Not all the time, of course. But enough times to keep her in a perpetual state of anxiety and heightened arousal.

There are many ways to capture the essence of denying sex without actually turning a girl down for sex as she’s straddling you in a thong. For instance:

– Cut dates short. Always end dates before the girl does.

– Get her lubed up with make-outs and finger banging, then stand up and announce you have to leave to get up early for a business trip in the morning. Watch the shocked look of unresolved horniness plaster her face. She’ll offer anal before close of the fourth date.

– “Not right now, I’ve got a headache.” It’s doubly effective when men use this line.

– Tell her you’re going to fuck her when you get home, and then forget to do it.

– And the most brutal sex denying method?

…

…wait for it…

……waaaaaaaait for it………

Abruptly stop banging her right in the middle of sex. Tell her you’re tired of fucking and you need some rest. Or don’t say anything at all. Just… stop. And roll over to sleep. Don’t sound spiteful. Everything is done matter-factly. This will fry her brain. Her hamster will be thinking about what it all means for months, maybe years.

Naturally, the above require a dose of self-discipline that many men either don’t have, or have never bothered to cultivate. Men’s horniness is leagues more intense and instantaneous than women’s, though women can reach greater heights of horniness with the right lover and given enough fulfilled preconditions. But hey, if you want to succeed at this game, a little sacrifice means a greater reward down the road.

To the emailer’s question:

I’ve never known a girl to leave because she found out she was gamed into bed. If anything, they become more aroused and intrigued by such knowledge.

Number Of White California Residents Plummets As Majority Status Slips Away

The number of whites residing in California plummeted by more than 11 percent during the past decade, with whites losing their majority status in the state for the first time in its history.

According to census statistics released Thursday, barely 42 percent of California’s population was white in 2010 — a remarkable shift in a place whose motto is “Eureka!” for the exclamation made by the millions of white Europeans who settled, civilized and industrialized the state.

The white population dropped by more than 1 million over the decade. At the same time, the Hispanic population skyrocketed by more than 500%, almost a third higher than a decade earlier. […]

In a state that prides itself on being a hub of white European culture and politics, a majority of residents have been Hispanic since whites began moving to other states en masse after the 1965 Immigration Act. By 1980, seven out of 10 Californians were white. […]

The demographic change is the result of almost 25 years of ghettoization that has transformed large swaths of California, especially Southern California. As housing prices soared, middle class whites priced out of neighborhoods such as all of Los Angeles and the surrounding counties, began migrating to predominantly all-white areas such as Portland and Utah.

The state became a tougher place to live for working-class families, who had to contend with rising rents and soaring property taxes. Many of the new jobs created over the past decade have required higher education.

The phenomenon exposed the state’s fault lines along income, class and race.

“Clearly, California is one of the most polarized states, by income and education, in the country,” said Herbert Harrison, a demographer at Princeton University who spent 10 years with the Census Bureau.

“You have this unusually large college educated population. And then you have a population that is largely Hispanic, with high school degrees or less.”

Pierce Hoight, a professor of White American history at Georgetown University, said the white middle class has followed the black middle class before them, heading out of California in search of more affordable housing and good jobs.

“No opportunities are being created for low- and middle-income people in the city,” he said. “I drive to LA every day, and very rarely do I see whites on construction jobs.”

Some say the precipitous decline in the number of whites is alarming.

“We’re going to stop this trend — ghettoization,” said CA Council member David Dukes (D-District 9). “We can’t displace old-time Californians.”

“The key to keeping this state white is jobs, jobs, jobs for white people so they can have a better quality of life in neighborhoods in the city,” he added. “I believe in integration, but I don’t believe in the apartheid we have in District 9. You don’t see corner stores in Marin County. You don’t see the liquor stores.”

Dukes, the four-term mayor who emerged from the civil rights movement, also faulted Congress for overturning a residency requirement for local government workers in 1988. That, he said, helped build up what he called “District Barrio,” referring to La Puente.

“We can’t keep people from moving, but if we had a residency requirement, we could keep government workers from moving,” Dukes said.

Arnold Schwartzenegger said that, during his term as governor, he made a concerted effort to attract new residents and businesses to pay taxes and generate revenue for a state in decline.

“When you’re the governor, you’re not God,” Schwartzenegger said. “It’s very frustrating. When you’re in public service, you’re there to promote diversity and harmony, but on the other hand, you want to help your state economically. Sometimes, they come at cross purposes.”

Schwartzenegger said he believes white European culture will continue to be the dominant culture in the state. But others say they already see it slipping away.

“The Owl City song ‘Vanilla Twilight’ pinned a label on the state,” said poet E. Ethelbert Miller, a leading figure in California’s White American arts community. “Well, vanilla was too boring a flavor for the policymakers, I guess.”

Miller laughed, then turned serious. “We’re seeing the eroding of a community. If you’re a white person accustomed to a way of life, that way of life is coming to an end. The state isn’t gonna be white anymore more. … This is the Villaraigosa era, and that’s symbolic. The state is stuck in mocha now. We’ll mourn that The Golden State is gone, but that’s just the nature of it.”

Full article here.

***

Very surprising that an article like this would be in the Washington Post, a bastion of liberal enlightenment. Clearly, racism is still alive and well in this country, and needs to be stamped out. There is much progress yet to be done. We haven’t reached our goal of a color-blind society yet.

Why Game Is Important For Fathers

A reader emailed a heartbreaking story to the Chateau. I reprint it here in the full because there is so much in it that could serve as lessons in life, alphaness and fatherhood. As you read it, prepare to cringe. Do you see a little of yourself in the father? In the son?

******

I really don’t know who else i could write to about this.

Today i was out for lunch with my dad. Sushi, as it was. My father isn’t the most assertive man, I’ve come to realize. but when this half-baked early 20’s asian in skater jeans and ray ban corrective glasses doesn’t bring us our food until we ask about it a half hour later, and still gets it wrong, and then continues to delay most of our food we have to leave before we get to eat the half of it. I was ready to get in the face of the woman at the register, but i thought it was my dad’s place to do so, since he was buying and he is my father. but he bumbled up to the counter,

“um, excuse me, our food was late and we didn’t get to eat it all…” He trailed off. The woman behind the counter looks up with her eyes glazed over, and gives him the bill.

“no, no, i don’t know if i should pay full price…”

she points to the bill which says (10% off -2.59)
BEFORE tax.

so he paid the 30 dollar bill with his two dollars off. i was thoroughly embarrassed. but it was worse. as i’m trying to ignore him, hoping he makes a bigger stand, he touched his hand to my face. it took me a second to realize that this was a playful slap.

“what was that?”
i knew what it was. he had such repressed aggression that he needed to let it out through momentary displays of dominance over his 18-year-old son.

“i just hit you.” he said in a goofy snorting voice, looking at the ground. still in front of the cashier. this was all to win the approval of a 5-foot asian woman in a tank top because he couldn’t stand up to her.

and then there’s my mom, the opposite. imposing, commanding, domineering, unbelievable condescending. she’s a executive director of a research facility. she actually says the only way to get along with her is to say you understand what she’s saying and leave it alone. of course, she can’t see that that’s batshit crazy.

They’re divorced of course.

The issue is, I’m their child. They’re both too deep in their own delusions to even notice that they’re destroying me. and so are my friends. I feel like I’m getting sucked into it. im submitting to my mom, when i used to make her laugh when she was trying to tell me what i’ve done wrong. I finished high school, with no motivation to continue my education. i spend most of my free time in front of a computer. I work a shitty job that I can’t even focus at. I haven’t had sex in months. when i’m at a party i’m more self conscious than i’ve ever been in my life. I can’t hold a conversation like i used to.

my friends suck,
AND I CAN’T STAND THE GIRLS I MEET
I’ve had sex with girls i don’t actually like, and it’s boring as hell.

I’m losing my wit, i’m losing my figure, im losing my ability to be extroverted, i’m losing my will to live.

how do i stay afloat? why should i stay afloat?
A sea of bullshit smells just as bad when you’re on the top of it.

how can i stop this death spiral when there’s nothing i want to hold onto?

I’m hoping for words of wisdom, but putting my long-winded whining in its proper place could be just as helpful.

******

Brutally bare. You’ve just had an insider’s look at the sordid details of a beta father’s life, and the wake of destruction such betaness leaves on the psyches of those around him — his son, his ex-wife and himself, not to mention the automatic disrespect it engenders in strangers. If you are a man and this story doesn’t reach out and punch you in the sternum, you have no life experience and no heart. A better advertisement for learning game to overcome beta weakness I can’t imagine.

Betaness isn’t some grand scheme or bodily disorder. Betaness manifests in the little things, like a father’s inability to square up to a waitress for bad service or his repressed anger played out in subtle dominance moves over his son. When we speak of game being a lethal tool to lift a man up from betaness, we mean it is the little things that game fixes. Forgetting this leads one to easily scoff at game as some kind of magic elixir or cult hypnosis. But focus on the tiny details, fix them one by one, and suddenly a new man appears before you, almost like magic.

If you are a father and you don’t approve of game as a means to pick up women, at least recognize its transformative power to improve your relations with your wife and children, particularly any sons you may have. Your son looks up to you as a leader and a masculine icon, almost despite yourself. When you renege on that implicit promise, he becomes disoriented, even self-loathing. If you are divorced, your son’s time with his cunty domineering single mother will only worsen his state of mind. As the country veers into a dystopia of single momhood and lonely, sackless beta divorcees, expect to see more sons with stories like the one told above. Nothing good can come of it.

Knowing this, learning game is practically a vital imperative. Maybe you can live with yourself as a sniveling little beta shit who can’t chew out — or at least neg — a young asian chick who deserves it because you get all flustered in her presence, but can you live with the pain and embarrassment it causes your son?

Readers generally fall into two camps with regards to the ability of the typical man to understand and apply game. Some believe attractiveness to women is a genetic bestowal, while others believe game, i.e. charisma, can be learned by any man. The answer is somewhere in the gray middle. Yes, some men are born with an incipient natural charm and others are born with the requisite intelligence to parse game concepts, and these men will excel at learning game far beyond what an omega will get from it. Yet there are thousands, maybe millions by this point, of men who have seen improvements in their love lives and their family lives accrue from the blessings of game. These men did not start out with Class A genetic endowments. Their very existence proves that sheer willpower — the will to mold their environments, and themselves, to their advantage — can mean the difference between being the father in this young man’s story and being a better man his son would be proud to call dad.

Stories like the above show that betaness is not solely, or even primarily, a genetic curse. A father’s actions have real repercussions on his son’s trajectory in life. The father in the story acted horribly beta and his son was aware of it. His low status behavior left a lasting imprint on his son’s soul, and as a result the son’s self-conception has been altered, and now careens down a darker path, into deep thickets and waist-high bogs bubbling with doubt and anger. This is one way in which generational betaness is passed on, from father to son.

Imagine a different scenario had played out. A GAME scenario.

Today i was out for lunch with my dad. Sushi, as it was. My father is a serene man with a well of righteous dignity, I’ve come to realize. when this half-baked early 20’s asian in skater jeans and ray ban corrective glasses doesn’t bring us our food until my dad asks if there’s a kitchen fire holding up our order, and still gets it wrong, and then continues to delay most of our food we have to leave before we get to eat the half of it. I was ready to get in the face of the woman at the register, but i thought it was my dad’s place to do so, since he was buying and he is my father. He strode up to the counter, chin high and chest out:

“I won’t be paying this bill today. Our food was late and we didn’t get to eat it. If you have a problem with that perhaps I could let the other patrons here know how incredibly poor your service is.” He motioned to the diners seated neraby. The woman behind the counter looks up with worry in her eyes, and offers to give him a free meal and a 50% reduction on the bill.

“My son might come here to eat another time. I expect him to be served respectfully.”

As i’m beaming with pride for my father, he puts his hand on my shoulder and leads me out of the restaurant.

“I got you the waitress’s number, son. Don’t forget to make fun of her glasses.”

Impossible? One weekend reading this blog and that father could have saved his son’s soul that day. He might even have saved his marriage, but judging by the description of the mother, I’m not sure he’d have wanted to once he figured out that game gave him the ability to date more women. And better women.

The only advice I have for the young man who emailed me is the following:

1. Stop beating up on yourself and acting so goddamned melodramatic. You have much insight for your age. Your intelligence will take you far. Now what you need is calm and wisdom.

2. This too shall pass.

3. The big picture trumps the little picture.

4. Stay away from your mother as much as humanly possible. She is damaged goods for you. Single moms, even your own flesh and blood, are poison for your growth as a man and a ladykiller.

5. For that matter, stay away from your father. Unless he is willing to change, he will only continue to infect you with his beta loser stench. Harsh words, I know, but your well-being trumps all.

6. If you are not ready to give up on either of your parents, then show your father this blog. Tell him to read from day one. Enlightenment is a mouse click away.

7. Show your mother this blog too. Expect hysterics.

8. Stand up to your mother. From what you have written, she sounds like an emotional vampire who demands payment in obeisance and comes to loathe those who give her what she wants. Fuck that noise. Get back to the cocky/funny that you used to be around her.

9. If all the above fail, consider physically moving away from these parasites. Friends, family, everyone. Gather your savings, quit your job, and move to a new city or even a new country.

10. Someday you will die. But that day is not today. Now is the time to live.

More Women Have Rape Fantasies Than Previously Thought

Science is validating unflinching, real world observation with progressively closer glimpses of the id beast lurking underneath our polite and self-deceptive exteriors. Today, science strips away the ego and superego from women’s brains and peers into the sticky, cobwebbed limbic interior to see what really turns them on.

The nature of women’s rape fantasies: an analysis of prevalence, frequency, and contents.

This study evaluated the rape fantasies of female undergraduates (N = 355) using a fantasy checklist that reflected the legal definition of rape and a sexual fantasy log that included systematic prompts and self-ratings. Results indicated that 62% of women have had a rape fantasy, which is somewhat higher than previous estimates. For women who have had rape fantasies, the median frequency of these fantasies was about 4 times per year, with 14% of participants reporting that they had rape fantasies at least once a week. In contrast to previous research, which suggested that rape fantasies were either entirely aversive or entirely erotic, rape fantasies were found to exist on an erotic-aversive continuum, with 9% completely aversive, 45% completely erotic, and 46% both erotic and aversive.

62%. That’s a majority, folks. A majority of women fantasize on average four times per year about being forcefully and nonconsensually penetrated. Nearly two out of ten women fantasize about rape at least once a week. If that doesn’t convince you of the animal nature of women’s sexuality and their deepest desire to submit to a more powerful lover, nothing will. Oh, except watching forlornly as jerks and assholes walk off with the girl of your dreams.

For those wondering what the difference is between “aversive” and “erotic” rape, here is a description culled from a number of studies examining female sexuality (with the important point bolded):

According to Kanin, erotic rape fantasies contain low to moderate levels of fear with no realistic violence. In these fantasies, women typically are approached aggressively by a dominant and attractive male who is overcome with desire for her; she feels or expresses nonconsent and presents minimal resistance; he overpowers her and takes her sexually. Kanin made the interpretation that these were not true rape fantasies, that the described resistance amounted to a “token no,” and he called these “seduction fantasies.” Participants themselves characterized these as rape situations, however, and the self-character in these fantasies showed nonconsent. As no evidence was presented that the self-character’s nonconsent was insincere, the label of “seduction” does not seem justified. [Ed: Feminists wept.] Certainly, in actual rapes minimal resistance and female sexual arousal do sometimes occur (Duddle, 1991; Johnson, 1985), and their occurrence would not render the encounter a seduction rather than a rape.

Aversive rape fantasies come closer to representing realistic rape. In these fantasies, the male is more likely to be older, unattractive, and a stranger. These fantasies contain coercive and painful violence, and little or no sexual arousal. A typical scenario for an aversive fantasy would consist of an assailant “grabbing, throwing to the ground, ripping off clothing, while the victim is fighting to keep the aggressor from achieving penetration” (Kanin, 1982, p. 117). Kanin found that women with aversive rape fantasies were more apprehensive about actual rape and more likely to have dreams of rape than were other women. The more aversive rape fantasies may operate as attempts to deal with the fear of actual rape by gaining some sense of control over rape situations and rehearsing how one might deal with actual rape (Gold & Clegg, 1990; Gold, et al., 1991).

Feminists who lamely try to handwave away rape fantasies as just another form of BDSM consensual sex are wrong. As the studies show, there is no consensual seduction as widely understood in women’s rape fantasies. They are about rape, and nothing but the rape. The only difference is in how violently the rapist penetrates her in her fantasy and in how much of a fight she puts up to stop him. In neither case, though, could the rape fantasy be reasonably termed a consensual seduction.

Ironically, aversive rape fantasies are the ones feminists would be more inclined to believe as true reflections of the female id, because those are the types of rape fantasies that women have to deal with the fear of rape. Too bad for the feminists, though, that, according to the first study linked above, aversive rape fantasies account for only 9% of all rape fantasies, with the great majority being either solely erotic in nature or a mix of erotic and aversive. Seems the ladies really do get off on the feeling of being raped by a strong and willful man.

Nothing in these studies should be a surprise to readers of this blog. It has been noted here, to much consternation and gnashing of the teeth by haters, that women secretly desire to submit to a powerful man — more powerful than they, at any rate — and that this desire sometimes includes a nonconsensual component. Women love the feeling of being overtaken by a man unbendable in his will and unstoppable in his lust.

Some of you might be wondering how valid is a study that only looked at female undergraduates. To that criticism, I say: Would it make a difference? The most sexually valuable women are in the age range of 15-25. Any older than 25 and she is past her prime, already beginning the descent to sexual irrelevancy. (Exception: A fat 21 year old who loses weight and regains a sexy figure at age 30 will look better than her 21 year old self. But this effect only lasts so long.)

When men want to know what arouses women so that they can tailor their game for maximum effectiveness, they observe the behavior patterns of slender women in their primes. Men do not wonder, nor do they care, what cougars, fatties, frumpy hausfraus or grandmothers fantasize about. So for all of you has-beens emphatically denying that you ever have rape fantasies and shouting from the mountaintop that you wouldn’t date jerks…

…who gives a flying fuck?

The Most Alpha Song Ever

There were a lot of quality suggestions for alpha songs from readers in the comments to this post. Too many choices from too many different genres to properly choose a number one alpha song of all time. But any list of top ten alpha songs should include “Hey Mister” by Custom, and “Homecoming” by The Teenagers. Read the lyrics and you’ll understand why these two songs are Chateau-approved for your listening pleasure.

“Hey Mister”

Hey Mister I really like your daughter,
I’d like to eat her like ice cream
maybe dip her in chocolate

Hey Mister on your way over
in your Volvo, suit, and tie
We’ll be crawling in your bed soon
messing around, maybe getting high

It’s not what ya did,
It’s not what ya didn’t
God gave her a perfect body
and now I’m all up in it.

It’s not she’s a tramp.
It’s not she’s not pure.
She just likes getting her fuck on,
and it’s a good one of that I’m sure

Hey Mister I really like your daughter.
When I’m horny like thirsty
She’s a bottle of water.

Hey Mister how’d it get so bad
You raised her so well
and now she’s calling me dad
in the back seat naked of
a new Volkswagen
the perfect little gift for
high school graduation.

It’s not what ya did,
It’s not what ya didn’t
God gave her a perfect body
and now I’m all up in it.

[chorus]

I eat all the food in your fridge
Call my friends around the world
Rack up your long distance do
Breakstands neutral drops
Wreck all your cars
Drink all the booze in your
cheezy ass wet bar
Order stuff on your credit cards
Leave boogers in the skippy jar
Smoke your cigars
Answer the phone tell your
boss you moved to mars
When you call in late from
work tell your wife
You’re at the titty bars

[chorus]

I can’t lie I have to tell the truth
My commandments says I’m a total spoof
Your daughter’s a freak
Your daughter’s a pro
When i’m done with her
She’ll do one of your bros

I hope I’ll never have a daughter
I hope I’ll never have a daughter
I hope I’ll never have a daughter
I hope I’ll never have a daughter

This song hits a couple of important Chateau themes:

1. Chicks are at their hottest between 15 and 25.

2. Every father’s worst fear is having his hot teen daughter hook up with a player.

What man can’t sympathize with the singer’s lament in the final stanza?

******

“Homecoming”

[male] “last week, I flew to san diego to see my auntie.
on day one, I met her hot step-daughter.
she’s a cheerleader, she’s a virgin, and she’s really tan.
as she stepped out of her massive car,
I could only notice she was more than fuckable.
I think she was coming back from the game or something,
’cause she was holding those silly pom-poms
on day two, I fucked her, and it was wild.
she’s such a slut.”

[chorus]
[male] I fucked my american cunt
[female] I loved my english romance
[male] I fucked my american cunt
[female] I loved my english romance
[male] it was dirty, a dream came true
just like I like it, she’s got nice tits
[female] it was perfect, a dream came true
just like a song by blink 182

[female] “ok, listen girls:
I met the hottest guy ever.
basically, as I was stepping out of my SUV,
I came face to face with my step-cousin or whatever, who cares?
anyway, he was wearing skinny jeans, had funky hair
and the cutest british accent ever.
straight away, I could tell he was rocker
from his sexy attitutde and the way he looked at me.
mmmmmm, he is totally awesome!
oh my god, I think i’m in love”

[chorus]
[male] I fucked my american cunt
[female] I loved my english romance
[male] I fucked my american cunt
[female] I loved my english romance
[male] it was dirty, a dream came true
just like I like it, she’s got nice tits
[female] it was perfect, a dream came true
just like a song by blink 182
[male] I fucked my american cunt
[female] I loved my english romance
[male] I fucked my american cunt
[female] I loved my english romance

[male] “it was so nice to meet you”
[female] “the pleasure was all mine, I do like you
come to cancun for spring break”
[male] “I’ll think about it, it could be great”
[female] “and don’t forget to send me a friend request!”
[male] “as if!”

Not only is this song funny (the alternating lines between the male and female singer satirizing the different ways men and women view hook ups is a highlight), but it even takes a few stabs at the consumption habits, entitlement complexes and general sluttiness of American princesses.

The readers who nominated Motorhead’s Lemmy and Kyuss/Queens of the Stone Age’s Josh Homme as alpha rock n rollers par excellence are correct. I would also add GG Allin to that illustrious list. Defecating on stage and self-mutilation were just the tip of the iceberg with that fucked up badass. Even his planned funeral was alpha:

There were two wakes for GG, one was a traditional Irish wake and the other was his rock and roll wake, according to GG’s mother Arleta. At his funeral, Allin’s bloated, discolored corpse was dressed in his black leather jacket and trademark jock strap. He had a bottle of Jim Beam beside him in his casket, per his wishes (openly stated in his self-penned acoustic country ballad, “When I Die”). As part of his brother’s request, the mortician was instructed not to wash the corpse (which smelled strongly of feces), or apply any makeup. The funeral became a wild party. Friends posed with the corpse, placing drugs and whiskey into its mouth. As the funeral ended, his brother put a pair of headphones on Allin. The headphones were plugged into a portable cassette player, in which was loaded a copy of The Suicide Sessions.

GG Allin — NOT a beta provider. Or a beta die-er.