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This may be the quote of the year:

The hard-boiled bachelorette, Ma Nuo, has gone on to become one of China’s most recognizable bai jin nu [golddigger]. Marry for love? Fat chance, said the material girl: “I would rather cry in a BMW than smile on the back of my boyfriend’s bicycle.”

That’s from an article about the rank materialism of Chinese women. Hmm, now what does that quote remind one of? Oh yeah:

Maxim #101: For most women, five minutes of alpha is worth five years of beta.

You go, future time oriented girl! Now, normally, only the hottest chinagirls are gonna have a realistic shot at crying in a rich man’s BMW. Most of them will have to settle for getting pumped and dumped, sans engagement ring, in the beemer’s back seat. But these are not normal times in the middle kingdom. For one, their sexual market is all kinds of dysfunctional; armies of single men prowl for whatever scraps of single women they can sniff out. With a ratio that bad, it’s no wonder men have to advertise flat ownership (15 square feet!) before some chinese version of a dumpy jelly splingerette casting call reject deems him worthy of a peck on the cheek. We’ve come a long way since foot binding, baby.

The Chinese, being the massively Special K-selected race that they are, are likely the world’s preeminent, badassiest provider betas. This is the land of niceguy hugs, excruciatingly long courtships, the zippered non-fling, and video game substituting for… well, for just about everything. You drop your typical soybrained China dude in America and he is gonna get chewed up and wetly expectorated by our badboy loving women, house or no house. Which system is better? Tough call. Personally, as a fan of love and being human, I’d wither in an environment where chicks were so calculatingly miss roboto about dating and all that slimy emotional stuff that lubes the whole process. On the chubside, you can straight buy your way into some fairly loyal, and non-obese!, vertically epicanthic vaj. No game needed. Of course, the price of entry is steep, and climbing like a stripper reaching for a hundred windexed to the top of the pole.

The Sino-sordid spectacle reminds me of stuff I read from somewhere about how the English evolved mucho smarts and were able to kickstart the industrial revolution, and eventually, America. Turns out they practiced good old fashioned eugenics, the way nature intended — all the smarties and upper classmen had way more kids than the poor and smelly, who were left to die in the streets very uncompassionately, and after many generations of that, a new people was born. (Any current reversal of the process is a figment of your imagination. Ow, my balls!) But you religious bleeding hearts can sleep easy; God watched over the unfolding dirty Darwinian events with an eye toward a future kinder, gentler humanity, so you know it had His heavenly stamp of approval. Back to the point: I see the same thing happening now in China.

I’d say Chinese men need an infusion of game, stat, but they’re probably constitutionally incapable of understanding the concepts, let alone applying them. These Chinese chicks may be megamaterialistic, but I’m nigh certain that you drop a nuclear neg on a moonfaced gaggle of them and suddenly that legalistic mental mate checklist (house? car? sinecure with the Party? Now we talk long time.) evaporates like so much empty bluster. Why do I think this? Because I’d bet coin of the realm that in a country of 500 million men, not more than three girls have been negged, and I’m counting the whores. The conceptual reality of Chinese men couldn’t be further from the world of pickup.

Hey, if a lonely sex-starved Chinese man can’t get a nibble, he could always pull a van der sloot. That’s guaranteed to get him an avalanche of marriage proposals. And it’s a lot cheaper than paying for a house 22 times the cost of the median Chinese annual salary. But seriously, let’s hope this banal, arid materialistic quid pro ho doesn’t infect the rest of the world. Last thing America needs is another layer of absurd entitlement on top of the noxious layers currently defeminizing our women. Remember, every time you buy a fat girl a drink, or a house, Satan smites a beta.


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