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The Look Of Lovelessness

Poor guy. He shoulda bailed with one of the bridesmaids.

Fame Game is all-powerful, so don’t expect many women to be able to resist smiling ear to ear when in the presence of a famous man. What you should worry about is when your wife can’t summon the same smile on her wedding day that she did standing next to Rob Lowe for 30 seconds (that we know of).

Game can’t stop a woman from auto-splooging around famous men, but it can sufficiently turn on her heart light so that she doesn’t look like she’s being forced into an arranged marriage with John Scalzi during the wedding day photo shoot. You want your girl smiling as broadly with you, in grateful acknowledgement of the sacrifice you’re making to be with her alone and to foreswear all other poon, as she would be smiling when posing for an Instawhore pic with 55 year old Rob Lowe. Or: If your girl acts like your groupie, you’re doing it right.

(This brings to mind a good rule for any kind of relationship: I call it the Smile Disparity Rule. If your girl smiles less than you in photos, you need a relationship course correction. If you both smile equally, have fun but don’t get complacent. If she smiles more than you do, she’s your love slave. Be discreet about your mistresses but don’t fret if your main dame discovers one of them. She’ll cry about it for a few minutes then concede she can’t stop loving you.)

More than anything, the photo comparison above exposes female hypergamy in its full flower. Ecstasy is her reaction when an alpha male so much as grazes her shoulder or asks for the time; barely concealed disappointment is her reaction when she knows she’s settling for ol’ dependable beta male who will provide her a lifetime of comfort and adoration. Not every woman will act on her hypergamy, but every woman will feel its tremors deep in the pit of her womb.

Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to reorient society so that informal regulations on the ability of women to satisfy their hypergamous urges are established for the benefit of civilization. Good luck!

At the very least, don’t be a self-deprecating cuck and act like there’s something funny or endearing about your woman swooning for another man while she looks at you like you’re ball-less ballast. If your wedding pic resembles the one above, prepare now for the inevitable divorce industrial complex ass ramming, and start sexting Schneiderman’s brown slave exes. Their nights are free now (praise be upon Trump and his long memory).

From commenter Cultural Resilience,

O/T from Managing hysterically Jealous Girl to see if I’m still stuck in mod
I’ve just played this tactic and it worked a fucking treat. I got the sense that the current long term gf has stopped giving of her best. I know that she has checked my phone before so I changed the lock code to one that she would find easy to break. I’ve been having flirty online text exchanges with a foreign girl and started closing my phone of quickly when ever she came near. Sure enough I come home one day and I immediately recognise the atmosphere.

“Something wrong?” “No!” (In that no means yes tone that only a hurting woman can use). “Ok then” I reply, while thinking I bet she doesn’t last five minutes. Sure enough before my post work drink glass frosting has even begun turning to water droplets. “I’ve found those messages on your phone” which, by the way include hot nude pics. “Knew you would” says I. “I feel like its a betrayal” “I knew it would make you feel like that but it didn’t stop me” “Doesn’t is bother your conscience?” “A hard dick doesn’t have a conscience”

A few sulky days laced with occasional comments about wether or not we have a future, tears and of course picture with no sound. (Its cute how they think that a few days free from continual vocalisation of every empty female thought is a punishment.)

Bam! Hot make up sex, and texts confessing undying love and her desire to make everything right with me. This shit just cannot fail. Its a kill or cure strategy, but it is certain to end in cure if properly executed.

Dread Game is like two Quimfinity Gauntlets of Pussy. Two snaps, and all the snapper promptly dissolves into a frantic bawling mess of lovesick conciliation and devotion.

It’s so powerful it has sex-independent properties; it can work on (beta) males as well, although not as powerfully as it works on women and rarely does it work on alpha males with options (it does work particularly well on hot babes with options because they have no defense against it given that they rarely experience it).

The catch is that you need a shiny set of brass ones to pull it off with genuine feeling. You have to be willing to risk total relationship implosion and be ready to walk, no looking back. Many weak-willed betas don’t have the stones for Dread Game, so they get played relentlessly until their half-committed girls tire of their supplications and execute a mercy dumping. (Many girls get so disgusted with the cajoling, cloying behavior of their beta borefriends that they will throw away a reliable source of resources and sounding board feelz just to get away from their betas’ icky kisses and gimp seed.)

If the girl senses you’re bluffing, she’ll double down and turn cold as ice as she calmly explains why “this isn’t working out”. If you’re unprepared for this, you’ll cave like a Florida sinkhole and beg for forgiveness and a second chance. If you were prepared to end it right there and then, you’ll say “Ok” and watch as everything changes between you and her. Where she had been holding all the cards and leveraging her sex and love withdrawal, suddenly you’re sitting in the cadbird seat and she’s hysterically trying to smooth things over so you’ll stay with her.

It’s a brutal psy ops, but no one said the sexual market was a soft pillow landing of genteel trade and barter. The sexes have competing reproductive goals, and though fraternization is the point the battlefield clashes to reach the victor’s tent are winner take all.

It’s not as insurmountable as it sounds if you don’t regularly swing a heavy sack in all your interactions with women. If your girl has “stopped giving of her best”, you have to tell yourself that she’s already one lab flap out the door. She’s gonna leave you in time if you do nothing, so you may as well take a chance on Dread Game. Either she leaves now (rather than in the near future), and you get a few extra months of character building field experience chewing into fresh meat, or she capitulates and returns to giving you her best.

Dread Game is win-win for any man who has the least bit of confidence in his ability to pick up a new chick. But if you’re a quisling beta accustomed to licking the glitter sneakers of your girl hoping your abject uxoriousness will keep her loveless attendance tethered by a frayed string to your life of endless anxiety, then Dread Game is a grenade you’re holding after you’ve thrown the pin into her trench. You won’t be able to handle it hot, she’ll know it, and the damned ploy will blow up in your face because deep down you’re afraid to risk losing her to be alone, sexless and unloved, straitjacketed by your fear of meeting new girls to find a replacement.

I want to add that Dread Game is so powerful it can resuscitate relationships which by cosmic law should die and stay dead. Exploit it wisely. It’s a great relationship management tool for corralling and bringing back under your tonically masculine auspice a wayward girlfriend or permanent girlfriend; but it’s a devil’s bargain if you use it to keep a determined, manipulative whore in line. Accept that if the girl isn’t right for you, Dread Game offers tremendously satisfying short term rewards at the cost of long term frustration and cancerous resentment. If the mutual love is poisoned or missing, you’ll have to administer a constant PIV drip of Dread Game to keep what is essentially a zombie barge afloat. Some men have enough ice in the veins (and fire in the main vein) to happily sign on for such a commitment. But most don’t. Dread Game administration for the duration will eventually heighten the loveless disconnect until it explodes with a fury or deflates to a perfunctory, impassive goodbye long past its due date. And by then you may wonder why you didn’t just cut the cancercunt out sooner so you could spare the time saved for other women who would be a better fit for you.

YOU: won’t approach a soft 6 because “the ratio is bad” or “she probably has a boyfriend” or “i’m tired” or “she hasn’t given me the green light yet”, retreat to masturbatorium for epic fap, decry your burgeoning incel status, log into PUA blog intended to help you only to bitch and moan about not looking like Chris Hemsworth.

THIS GUY: be born with no arms, swoop a hard 7, have two kids by her.

If you can’t muster the courage with a full set of limbs to approach a girl and say hi, try to imagine how much tougher it would be for you if you had to approach girls armless. There goes kino escalation! (aka surreptitious groping for you hollywood producers.) Then hang your head in shame that all you can muster are excuses about not looking like a male model as the reason why you’re alone and celibate.

GET OUTTA HERE WIT DAT NOIZE

Stupid self-confidence which defies expectation and prudence can take a man far. Be inspired by better men than yourself, rather than demoralized. And by inspired, I don’t mean by the universalist pabulum those men might write to explain their grace; I mean by what these men with two strikes against them do to score their hotties. Maybe it’s humor, or the fame of running a ministry, or a preternatural ability to emotionally connect with women, that is their secret. Or maybe it’s “DGAF what the world thinks of my armlessness” jerkboy charisma that women are wired to behold with starry eyes. Those lessons are hiding in plain sight; all you need to do is stop pulling the blinders over your eyes.

“Self-respecting”

baked georgia asyntactically commented,

a (good looking) female co-worker commented about how no self-respecting male won’t have a real relationship with one of those bikini girls from instagram, and that they’ll may die alone when their looks fade away.

I’ve almost cried tears of joy

Be careful in your admiration for a woman who uses the term “self-respecting” as an implicit tool of male behavior management, especially if her slut shaming target is her sexual competition.

Women use the term “self-respecting” in a passive-aggressive way whenever they’re commenting indirectly about male romantic preferences that they find objectionable and threatening (such as men’s compulsive willingness to not only fuck but fall in love with Instawhore bikini babes). You may think she’s a trad thot doing the Lord’s slut shaming work, but in reality she’s stud shaming you to ignore hotter women for a “real relationship” with women like herself.

It’s generally good policy to avoid committing to women who splash their gash all over social media, but don’t get bent out of shape about it. There’s nothing mutually incompatible between female beauty and female lovability, and men should allow some breathing room for women occasionally and with a prudent bow to modesty to “display their goods” (say, in a slinky cocktail dress to catch your eye at a black tie dinner event) because it’s a normal urge in women to physically advertise their sexual and, hence, marital worth.

When I hear “self-respecting”, I hear a schoolmarm finger wagging me for not sufficiently denying my natural male desire.

Chris comments about his time in Brazil, the muddy confluence of the world’s races.

I lived in Brazil 4 years as an American young man back in 1990s and I am yet to see a more dis-trusting and antagonist society in the planet. Brazilians HATE each other, they hate their country, and they distrust each other to the point the country is really nothing more then a 3rd world powederkeg of social and economic disharmony and violence. Brazil is California on steroids. Highly-racially and culturally mixed and yet that country is divided, dishonest, and self-loathing.

The more “racially mixed” a country is, the more unstable it becomes, because it has no common culture, no common past, and no common background. The only part of Brazil that works (sorta) is the South, where the population is overwhelmingly German, with Italians as second largest group, Ukrainians around 500,000, and about 100,000 Lithuanians, all concentrated in their own cities and towns across the 3 southern States. The south of Brazil is only coherent part of Brazil and only white-majority region. Most Conservative, prettiest girls, and least Feminist. The rest of Brazil is a messy chaos of mixed and semi-white populations, all distrusting and hating one another. It is a sight to behold! 😮

This is the case anywhere in the world. When Norway was almost 100% ethnic Norwegian, the country worked and functioned, even with dumb socialist policies (like national healthcare). Because the population was homogenous and educated, they did not abuse and overuse public services and that enabled socialist policies to work to some extent. After they allowed SOME immigration, not even at the ridiculous levels of Sweden or Germany, NOTHING works in Norway anymore. Healthcare is overwhelmed, people bleeding in ERs, elderly drinking water out of potted plants, and all levels of social services and police are overwhelmed, and the country has become more polarized and unstable.

But unlike Sweden (a country headed for total collapse), Norway woke-up and elected the “Go Forward Party” and the zero immigration parties are growing rapidly. Their motto “let’s not become Sweden”.

Simply put: mass immigration = chaos and disunity. No matter how much you “mix races” or “mix cultures”, the “mixing” will not resolve the most basic of human behavior, which is distrust, disunity, and hate. No matter how much you indoctrinate, the truth of our most basic ideas, behaviors, and reactions will never change. That is hwy “Progressivism” has always fails, since it replies on humans to “evolve” (progress) into holy and perfect beings. This will never happen, thus Progressivism fails over an dover again.

In fact, all tis “mixing” makes it all worse. My 2 cents.

Diversity + Proximity = War (by whatever means). Racial diversity introduces social instability. The races have on average differing world views, behaviors, temperaments, personalities, and preferences, and forcing them together into an artificial union under one political and cultural umbrella amplifies preexisting antagonisms and distinctions, resulting in lower trust and a less livable society by any one group’s standards. The reason racial and ethnic diversity creates instability (which Robert Putnam found in his research, even within races because lower trust caused by multiracial proximity infected relations between racial kin) is because shared threads of experience, history, heritage, values, demeanors, behaviors, rituals, and unspoken affinities are torn and discarded, and in fact must be, to appease the MultiKult Cerberus.

Mixing doesn’t fix the problems caused by Diversity™; it only makes it worse because the mixed population becomes more, not less, racially conscious, spending productivity-sucking energy jockeying for a racial identity and the status that accrues to it which sets oneself and one’s family apart from the muddy masses. It’s part of the human condition to tribalize; only NW European Whites have had this predilection somewhat but not entirely bred out of them. And if it is bred out of them, they will cease to exist and all the world’s races will return to unapologetic tribalism.

And as Chris noted, race mixing destroys cultural continuity — “no common culture, no common past, and no common background”. Our underlords must preach the satanic gospel of Diversity Is Our Strength constantly because they understand on a primal level that Diversity is our weakness. They propagandize that which requires propagandizing: the inorganic, the artificial, and the alien.

People who think all our problems of Diversity will be solved by de-scaling are short-sighted, unless by de-scaling they mean the disaggregation of America into separate and distinct geopolitical entities that are self-governing and no longer answer to the Federal Poz — aka racially distinct nations, which we forget, to our peril, is a redundancy in terms.

***

South Africa is another horribly low trust society. So how does the country function? Clues abound: fencing of every variety encircles everything, gated community security forces are armed to the teeth, and Whites self-segregate from nonWhites and follow an informal byzantine rulebook to help them avoid predation.

In other words, South Africa functions by creating an insular pocket of high trust Whites to run things and keep the low trust hued hordes surrounding them appeased with gibs (or with the lives of apparently disposable White Afrikaaner farmers).

Gibs Management is a classic example of short-run profit at the expense of long-run sustainability. It works, for a while, until the gibs takers outnumber the gibs givers, which they always do because (absent contraceptive and abortive intervention) gibs takers are wired for explosive population growth in times of plenty.

Atavator passes along an anecdote about a White African:

A few years ago, I struck up a conversation with a white guy from Zimbabwe — in the Wal Mart checkout line, of all places. Fair number of blacks around, but the guy was totally relaxed. It was a comparative matter, you see. Back home, he explained, there was just just no way his car would still be in the lot when he exited the store, since in the present case he had left no one armed to watch it. Just having that luxury — not leaving an armed person and believing his car would be present —   was like heaven.

Requiring the presence of an armed guard to watch your car in Walmart parking lots will become a feature of the US if the White share of the total population continues its downward trajectory to majority minority status, and then eventually to absolute minority status. This is why sounding pessimistic alarm bells about the demographic catastrophe set to befall us is as critically important as crafting an optimistic message that lures normie Whites to voting for pro-Heritage America politicians (aka MAGAmen).

If Whites in the remaining majority-White regions of the US don’t feel a sense of urgency and menace for the future of America as a nation, they won’t act as quickly about signing up for an implicitly or explicitly heritage-protecting agenda. And what we don’t have now is the luxury of time. South Africa is our future sooner than most think.

This is a pretty good pickup field report from archerwfisher demonstrating the awesome power of preselection, cockiness, and outcome independence to deliver poon into a man’s lap.

Off topic but MAN had another example today that the Heartiste gospel is true. Short version–pre approval and a little game work a TON.

Long version–met a somewhat crazy, fairly slutty girl on tinder. Didn’t want to date. (I’m more on the Christian side so didn’t bang when I could have.) She loves to randomly hang out even though she’s decided I’m 100% a friend. Today she randomly wanted to meet at a bar. I get there and she’s happy drunk with a happy drunk friend. She introduces me, I’m snapchatting another girl (crazy girl asks what I’m doing, I honestly say I’m snapping my ex, so I’m pre approved by crazy girl and my ex) and I’m partially chatting with crazy girl and her drunk friend.

We go outside, they’re talking about hookups and I’m making dry comments and a few jokes and half paying attention, didn’t flirt with or hit on either. We all sit in crazy girl’s SUV with ac on for a few minutes. Someone calls crazy girl, drunk friend starts making orgasm noises, I join in “yeah you like that baby” and crazy girls takes the call. Drunk girl tells me about breaking up with her fiance, I go, “I completely understand, crazy people are hard to deal with” and point at crazy girl. Drunk friend almost dies laughing going “that’s so awful! take that back!” To which I say “tell me it’s not true!” Aaand five minutes later drunk friend is asking if I have a dick pic I can show her, I do, and her reply is “Hmm, I can do something with that” and she asks me to come over to her place.

Gospel proven–be pre approved, don’t be an eager beaver, and have some humor.

I can already hear the mewling chorus of naysayers. “Ah but she was drunk, CH, that lay was practically a gimme!”

Really? How often do betaboys go home to their faphovels because a bar full of drunk girls ignored them for more charismatic men? I’d say if betas rely on girls being drunk to get laid they are setting themselves up for disappointment. Even through the haze of alcohol, girls can tell which men are the cool alphas. Drunkenness might lower her inhibitions, but it won’t reliably widen her net.

I’ve gotta hand it to black women, they have a knack for cutting through (or being unconcerned with) feminist sophistry, to deliver the id vivisecting shiv.

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