The Sochi Winter Olympics opening ceremony suffered a minor glitch when one of the Olympic ring lighting props malfunctioned. Naturally, the glitch made above-the-fold, wall-to-wall coverage in the Western leftoid press for days, who, for reasons that are becoming clearer by the day, have suddenly discovered a simmering hatred for Russia they never had when Stalin ruled the motherland with a bloody iron fist.
This is classic Agree & Amplify Game. Faced with a world-stage embarrassment and a shit testing Western media, Russians summoned their inner alpha male, amplified to the point of absurdity their faux pas, and in so doing recaptured the enviable dominant ground of the charming bastard.
Game is often mistaken as a limited blueprint useful only for picking up chicks, but it’s so much more. Once you understand that game — aka applied charisma — is psychological mastery over human perception, you begin to grasp its applicability to every human social sphere. Politics, business, family… there is hardly a context in which game isn’t a valuable skill to leverage.
When feminists aren’t happily asserting that women cheat just as much as men do, they’re raging that cheating men are insecure chauvinist pigs who are afraid of strong, independent women. As per usual with the human emojis known as feminists, trying to square their internal contradictions is an exercise in infinitely recursive futility.
Which is why it’s so much fun just to stick the hot shiv in their flabby hides and watch them squeal in pain. Courtesy of ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥science♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥, a study found that men cheat more not because they have weaker self-control than women, but because men have stronger sex drives that compel them to cheat.
A recently published study strongly suggests men succumb to sexual temptations more than women—for example, cheating on a partner—because they experience strong sexual impulses, not because they have weak self-control.
Previous research has shown that men are more likely than women to pursue romantic partners that are “off limits.” However, until now, the explanation for this sex difference was largely unexplored.
One possible explanation for this effect is that men experience stronger sexual impulses than women do. A second possibility is that women have better self-control than men. The current study’s results support the former explanation and provide new insight into humans’ evolutionary origins.
Let’s tally up the scorecard and see how many losses feminists and their equalist paymasters suffered from this one single study:
1. Men have stronger sex drives than women.
Reality: 1, Feminists: 0.
2. Women don’t have more sexual self-control than men; they just have relatively weaker sex drives that reduce their compulsion to cheat.
Reality: 2, Feminists: 0.
3. Men have evolved different sexual strategies than women, and a higher male sex drive is one manifestation of that evolved sex difference.
Reality: 3, Feminists: 0.
4. Any sexual temptation is harder for men to deny than it is for women to deny, because men have more innately powerful sex drives that they must suppress.
Reality: 4, Feminists: 0.
5. Feminists are stoopid. It’s self-evident.
Reality: 5, Feminists: 0.
There’s a dearly held belief by feminists and their beta male suck-ups that women are the more “moral” sex. But virtue is empty braggadocio if it isn’t tested by vice. The fact that men need to expend greater efforts of self-control than are required of women to refuse the temptation of sexual infidelity is proof that, at least along this spectrum of virtuous behavior, men are the more moral sex.
Pathological solipsism and mile wide but inch deep self-esteem are a bad combo. The id of the Millennial Like Me Generation is a furry suit wrapping a toddler. If normalcy and personal responsibility offend the Millennial, it will make sure you know, in poopytalk, how that’s a problem. Help the Millennial feel less like a reject; validate its problems.
Read your site regularly. Thanks for the time and effort.
Interested in your thoughts: I’ve got a recent girlfriend- good looking, moneyed background, sweet girl but lots of confidence. She is, however, outright jealous- or at least catty- about an ex of mine who she has found notes from and a couple pictures of us together.
She recently lost her phone and asked to temporarily borrow my old one. While sanitizing it I found found a few nudes my ex sent me. She looks good. Do I leave them and stoke the flames further? Or leave it to simmer? Opportunity or foolishness?
A girlfriend who is excessively jealous of an ex-girlfriend of comparable SMV is projecting a desire to have a boyfriend who is adept at attracting other women. The catty jealousy is manufactured drama that she indulges because it serves the purpose of making her more attracted to you. You may consider this flattery… or a warning sign of troubles ahead.
If your ex is hotter than your current girlfriend (be honest with yourself), the jealousy is nothing less than raw insecurity. Women know, despite their socially acceptable protestations to the contrary, what really matters to men. A hotter ex-girlfriend translates as a greater risk of you trading up in the near future.
My answer is partly dependent on which of the two contexts above is relevant to you. If you get the sense that your girlfriend is very much in love and her jealousy is revealed insecurity, the smart move is to delete the photos so she doesn’t see them and melt into a puddle of manic self-doubt. (The smarter move is to not let her borrow your phone so that you may keep the photos for your old age when the nostalgic masturbation material will come in HANDY.)
But if she seems like the drama-prone type (INFIDELITY ALERT) and her jealousy strikes you as deliberately hyperbolic, you may want your girlfriend to “accidentally” come across those nude photos of your ex as a means of assuring she stays in your orbit. A drama queen needs these occasional reminders of your surfeit of sexual market options. Keep the ho on her toes.
This stunt should go down in the annals of pickup artistry as one of the wowjustwow-iest takeaways ever foisted on a girl.
It appeared to be the beginning of a sweet, Valentine’s Day ad in an Australian newspaper, popping a “very important” question. But its cliffhanger ending leading into a secondary ad will leave you hoping the girlfriend has a sense of humor.
The ad:
Beta Male Takeaway Game is a very effective attraction trigger. You posture as if you’re about to commit an egregiously supplicatory beta act of romantic abandon, and then, just when she’s fully braced for an awkward moment and her creep radar is pinging… you pull the rug out from under her with a surprise ending. Result: Tectonic tingle shift.
Why is the beta male takeaway so powerful an attractant of women? To answer that, you need to put yourself in the tiny shoes of the female rationalization hamster. Women of prime childbearing age instinctively know they are the more reproductively valuable sex. This foreknowledge influences their perception of the world, and their expectations of male behavior. Call it “cooter-colored glasses”. Women interact with men, whether nascent lovers or acquaintances, with the belief that yearning, suck-up beta male pleadings will be men’s default operating mode. And they aren’t dissuaded often enough to jettison that belief. Any fulfillment of her expectation of predictable beta male behavior disappoints her even as it occasionally elates her; but romantically inexperienced men don’t know this because women are skilled at concealing that disappointment when it personally advantages them.
So the rare bad boy who defies her expectations is a real treat for her twat. Female sexual arousal sits very close to the brain modules housing the female senses of danger, caprice, and drama. A woman defied is a woman alive.
Salon, the nation’s hindmost menstrual rag of note, stumbled onto Chateau Heartiste grounds and promptly WOWJUSTWOWed until they were overcome with shameful orgasms.
18 hilariously terrible sex tips that all men should ignore. […]
3. “A woman may want financial and family security, but she does not want passion security. In the same manner, when she has displeased you, punish swiftly, but when she has done you right, reward slowly.” (Chateau Heartiste,pickup artist site)
It works for the Dog Whisperer so it must be true.
Naturally, the vapid Salon entity has no rebuttal to offer other than lazy snark.
6. “Flirt with other women in front of her. Do not dissuade other women from flirting with you.Women will never admit this but jealousy excites them. The thought of you turning on another woman will arouse her sexually.” (Cheateau Heartiste)
Of course women (and men) [ed: no, men don’t viscerally respond to jealousy incitement the same way women do] want their partner to be perceived as desirable to others. But intentionally trying to make your partner jealous is a pathetic power trip used by the most insecure. And no, women “will never admit” it because it’s not true. Just like men “will never admit” they love surprise anal.
Women who deign to write for globally transmitted magazines really need to begin the arduous task of reading subject matter outside their feminist automaton comfort zones. For instance, CH is not the only one to observe through direct experience that women’s arousal and jealousy are two sides of the same coin; studies have found over and over that “female preselection” — that is, a man’s social and romantic approval by other women — acts directly as an attraction stimulant on any women in his company. Unlike this Salon broad’s non sequitur about “surprise anal” (which, as if it needed to be said, few heterosexual men outside the Salon staff hothouse of lactating manboobs secretly desire), making a woman jealous is proven to work as a means of increasing her romantic arousal. A man deploying such a tactic may or may not be “insecure”, but there’s no arguing with results.
8. “Give your woman two-thirds of everything she gives you. For every three calls or texts, give her two back. Three declarations of love earn two in return. Three gifts; two nights out. Give her two displays of affection and stop until she has answered with three more. When she speaks, you reply with fewer words. When she emotes, you emote less… In her deepest loins it is what she truly wants.” (Chateau Heartiste)
And if she responds with one word, reply with a series of monosyllabic grunts or through miming. She thinks she’s got you in a box, but little does she know, it’s INVISIBLE. Treating every exchange with women like a manipulative math problem is ¾ stupid, ⅝ sad, and 100 percent guaranteed to make you into an ex variable.
Math is hard.
Also, did he just call my loins shallow?
Women should avoid trying to be funny altogether and stick to maximizing the return on their authentically valuable assets. That would be your tits, ass, face and pussy, in case you were wondering.
A word of advice, Salonista: Humorless reductio ad absurdum and inapt mischaracterizations are no way to win debate points.
There’s a reason “mainstream” feminists rarely confront the House of Heartiste head on, preferring instead to snipe futilely from a safe and plausibly deniable distance (see: Lindy “Huge Fat Fuck” West), protectively ensconced by an army of reject freaks spit-shining feminist taint. When an unfortunate representative of their diseased order attempts an ill-prepared direct assault on CH, mistakenly presuming her enemy is a chucklehead bro who can’t wield a shiv like an assassin, she is typically flayed alive and retreats in shock with her fat beaver tail tucked between her ham hocks, never to be heard from again. So they will continue to toss feeble snark turds from their internet hovels while CH continues tearing apart everything they believe and hold dear, sinew by sinew, until the last of them self-delivers or sticks it out in everlasting torment to enjoy her gradual soul-desiccating abandonment by those she considers respectable discourse gatekeepers.
I wonder if the dam is beginning to burst on public discourse, leading to growing awareness of converging androgyny of the sexes. CH was out front informing the masses of a strange trend toward sexual unipolarity characterized by a psychological and physiognomic swapping and sharing of normal sexually dimorphic traits. Men appeared to be getting womanlier and women manlier.
But it was the stuff of quirky anecdote and peripheral observation, out there on the bleeding edge of heartistian thought. The science had yet to catch up to CH’s eagle eye. But now the ♥science♥ is here, and as per usual the boys in the lab are busily verifying precocious CH insight.
“Androgens, a class of hormones that includes testosterone, increase waist-to-hip ratios in women by increasing visceral fat, which is carried around the waist. But on the upside, increased androgen levels are also associated with increased strength, stamina and competitiveness. Cortisol, a hormone that helps the body deal with stressful situations, also increases fat carried around the waist.
Hormone levels linked with a high waist-to-hip ratio could lead to such health benefits, which would be particularly useful during times of stress, Cashdan said. These benefits could outweigh those attained from having the tiny waist, hourglass figure, she said.
Perhaps the differences between predominant body shapes in some societies have to do with sexual equality, Cashdan said.
In Japan, Greece and Portugal, where women tend to be less economically independent, men place a higher value on a mate’s thin waist than men in Britain or Denmark, where there tends to be more sexual equality, Cashdan said. And in some non-Western societies where food is scarce and women bear the responsibility for finding it, men actually prefer larger waist-to-hip ratios.
“Waist-to-hip ratio may indeed be a useful signal to men, then, but whether men prefer a [waist-to-hip ratio] associated with lower or higher androgen/estrogen ratios (or value them equally) should depend on the degree to which they want their mates to be strong, tough, economically successful and politically competitive,” Cashdan writes.”
So as we head to a female forager/matriarchal/feminist society, in order to compete and WIN, the women will have to, and are, masculinising.
It’s interesting how the feminists who agitate for a society organised along these lines are the females most likely to be successful in these societies. Feminist women win, non-feminist women lose.
Feminism is a war of women against other women.
It’s about making the feminist/female forager mating strategy the winning mating strategy.
And any woman who isn’t a masculinised female/feminist, will be a loser in this world.
Fitting, yes, that the Western leftoid project to economically and socially equalize the sexes is literally equalizing men and women in body mass, shape and temperament. Fuck with the forces of nature and nature will fuck you right back, hard.
But I wouldn’t make too much hay of this latest study. One, there is a mound of accumulated evidence that male preference, at least in Europe and Asia, is for women with waist-hip ratios of 0.7 and BMIs falling between 17 and 23. Two, the enlarging (heh), sugar-fueled and automobile-enabled Western obesity epidemic is likely distorting measurements of the natural WHRs of women under a layer of belly blubber. Three, what the above study could be measuring is not changes in innate, unconstrained male preference but rapid female adaptation to environmental pressures that occur *despite* male sexual preference. (Note, also, that the majority of sampled countries in the data set were non-European. A good rule of thumb: Female beauty standards are universal, EXCEPT in Africa. “Except in Africa” is a clause that could be appended to a lot of generalizable observations about human nature.)
Nevertheless, this study is hinting at something that CH has noticed: Western women are looking, and acting, manlier. We have cast about for reasons why, and now we have one plausible mechanism: When propagandized sexual equality pushes women into the workforce and away from children and home, their bodies respond by jacking up their tiny reserve of male hormones until they more resemble the men with whom they now compete in arenas historically occupied only by men.
And so what kind of women does our post-biology, androgyne culture beget? Manjaws. Narrower eyes and hips. Thinner lips. Wider waists. Aggressive posturing. Leering, focused gazes. Snarls and snarks.
Recall this contrast between composites of Golden Age Hollywood starlets and modern actresses:
The face composite on the left is of actresses from 2008, the right of actresses from the 1940s. Neither are unattractive, but the left one clearly has undergone some masculinization. Anymore, and she veers into tranny territory. What does this mean for men? Most men will feel like sexually conquering the girl on the left, and romantically protecting the girl on the right. Funny, that seems to be the way our sexual market is heading.
What else do our present and future masculine women offer? Shrieking feminist agit-prop. Wall to wall lies to deny sex differences. “Art” made from menstrual blood. Pussy riots. Delayed childbirth. Women breaking their bodies competing in high-impact sports traditionally dominated by men. And, in a final middle finger to the god of biomechanics, a simultaneous war to feminize men so that women’s descent to maleness can proceed unhindered.
That last part is happening too, in case you were wondering. I could show you a pic of John Scalzi as proof and call it a day, but as demonstrated by the CH links above there is similar data-rich evidence piling up that something weird and disconcerting is happening to Western men to turn them into mewling manboobs, overweight male feminists, slope-shouldered hipsters, and huge beta sycophants. Although it isn’t (yet) making the nightly news, far-flung quarters are beginning to pick up on the CH-identified disturbing inversion of men to a physical and psychological female form.
None of this is good news, except to ugly feminists and socially awkward male toadies who never stood a chance in the grindhouse of the mating bazaar. I don’t see how civilization sustains itself under these conditions, not demographically at any rate. There will be a price to pay for messing with nature’s prime directive. I don’t know exactly what amount, or what currency we’ll pay it in, but the bill is coming due.
The title of this post is not an affectation. The convergent masculinization and feminization of the sexes to a shapeless, infantilized alien gray is a deliberate project by the elites as much as it is an emergent phenomenon of uncontrolled environmental insults. The ruling class wants this. People in power, people who don’t want to relinquish even a speck of their power, want their nearest competition — white middle class men — gelded. They want them soft and blubbery and pliable. They want women unfeminine, self-supporting, aggressive and ballcutting, because they know that a culture dominated by such women will reinforce and solidify the slavish adherence to the preferred propaganda matrix of the elite.
The elite’s most dangerous enemy are men like themselves, competent and hungry, but with less to lose. And so the elite play social engineering with the sexes, in hopes of ridding themselves of men capable of rebelling. If they taste success, they will move on from social engineering to biological engineering of the wider culture of men to cement their rule. You scoff. Ask yourself, are you, at this late hour, willing to place your faith in the benevolence of your ruling elite should such technological game-changers drop in their laps?
Ultimately, whether our ruling class knows it or they bumble along like drug addicts seeking the next pleasurable injection of power at any cost, their sex-swapping project will turn the West into matricentric, female forager Africa. And it shouldn’t be too hard to figure out what comes next.
Facebook Likes are a cancer on society. They glorify feels and enervate reason. They abet lies and exile truth. But they do perform a valuable service for the keen observer of civilizational decay. The FB Like, and what gets Liked most, are revealing glimpses into a nation’s character, and especially the character of its women, for whom Facebook Likes are happy drugs for their gluttonous egos. Remove the Like, and severe withdrawal symptoms manifest, similar to the effects one sees from the psychological damage that incurs after an extended stint in an isolation chamber.
A reader passes along two telling examples.
I found these two pictures today on my FB friend’s feed. (They aren’t my friends, fortunately, but they are friends of friends.) Both got lots of “likes” and supportive comments. I thought of you as soon as I saw them.
Since most of Facebook is a wasteland of middling SMV women patting each other on the backs for awe-inspiring accomplishments like getting knocked up by a black guy or sucking down in one gulp a boat of sugar through a straw, it’s fair to say that what gets Liked is what American women like. And what American women like is, to put a coarse point on it, a mountain of shit.
What do American women and their yappy beta orbiters like so much that they feel compelled to craft a public consensus of their PC boilerplate?
– Mystery meat fetuses.
– Interracial dating.
– Male empathy pregnancies.
– Fat chicks.
– Fat chicks feeding like swine on ice cream sundaes that could sustain a family of four for a week.
– Fat chicks feeding like swine while insouciantly arched eyebrows that demand acceptance leap from their bloated brows.
Could this country and its people be going down the shitter any faster? Forget Rome’s historical precedence. America is in double-time decline, setting new records of scraping bottom as we speak. I think I will dub this Millennifag cohort the Like Me Generation. “Like me, because if you don’t I’ll have a mental breakdown as the realization that I’m a mediocrity sweeps over me. Nothing less than total unanimity in judgment of my awesomeness and the rightness of my knee-jerk emotional opinions will keep me alive another day.”
Yeah, no. I think instead I will take this shiv and give it an extra twist in your guts, just because I like… yes, Like… watching you effete nancies and spluttering mutants scream bloody murder. And you know what? The country will become a place truly worth liking for your suffering.
We sat in a window box of the cafe. Warming sunlight marched through and glittered off her black hair. As I spoke absent-mindedly about a girl I loved whom I recently lost, barely comprehending in my stream of consciousness that I was airing my inner thoughts, a sunshaft grazed her cheek and I saw that she was silently crying. Two soft tears traced slowly downward, framed within an expressionless face. The effect hit me hard, not because it was the first time I made a woman cry from sheer carelessness, but because her tears were so incongruent with her personality. She was an Ivy-educated business consultant, easily turning six figures, ambitious, sure of herself in ways she thought mattered, and to the undiscerning eye cold and opaque.
She was also pretty, but the timing of our fling threw her orbit away from mine. Pleasing enough, she regrettably didn’t press my buttons like my recent ex-girlfriend had. And so, when she earnestly pried for my truest feelings, she received in return the fate of suffering reckless confessions she didn’t want to hear. My emotions were raw, and I unloaded on her callously as she took my strafe on every flank. Not meaning to hurt her, I had, and every time we had sex since then, over the following weeks, it ended with her tucking her knees under her chin naked on the bed to quietly cry into the wrapped bubble of her body.
When my one-sided conversation with the cosmos had finished, and her tears had shocked me back to empathy and guilt, she choked out a tiny utterance that I’ll never forget. A simple, endearing question: “So you really liked this girl?” Imagine for a moment the excruciating hollowness of unreciprocated longing that the friendzoned beta male feels as he patiently abides his love’s encomiums to another man. Women can feel this way, too.
I crashed back into her presence. Now all I could think was making amends and, truthfully, a part of me wanted to preserve for a while longer the usefulness of her distractive adoration in my time of need.
“Yes.”
I surprised myself at the forthrightness of my answer. Quickly recalibrating, “…but I could see it coming, so maybe it’s all for the best.”
She coaxed a crooked smile, but I had sunk her. She knew in that bright cafe that we would never be more together than a pleasurable temporary escape. Already approaching thirty, the weight of it landed in the breadbasket of her soul.
These stories locked in time offer lessons for times yet to come. What I had unknowingly, accidentally, obliviously, and with quite sincere effort done to this woman was run an extreme version of Disqualification Game on her. That confessional about my recent ex, the sincerity with which I expressed my confusion and unresolved desire, the indifference to how it might be received by present company, sent my replacement lover into a tailspin. She felt stronger love for me at the same time she felt the sadness of our inevitable, arriving end. Thus, our sex life carried on while her tears flowed heavier with accumulating grief.
What was accidental can be made intentional for one’s personal advantage. “I’ll always have this thing for my ex” Extreme Disqualification Game can, if delivered without a hint of manipulative urgency (almost as an afterthought), greatly increase a woman’s attraction to you. She’ll see herself as the one who can make it better, or steal your heart away, if you’re careful to stop just short of killing her hope outright. You’ll be a challenge too irresistible to some women, especially women with options, and if you parcel your redirected romance into hamster-sized pellets that make her feel as if she’s slowly winning you over, you’ll have from her a love that can transcend all other arid considerations women tend to autonomically jot down on dating profiles or personal ads.
