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Poolside In America

Would you call this man smart? I would.

He jams, drinks, surfs, lounges beachside all day, and eats lobster on the public dime. Oh sure, he doesn’t have a lot of material possessions (but how’d he get that car?) that define the accomplished SWPL life, but when you’re banging hot southern Cally girls, (and I bet you big bank he’s tapping more sweet ass than a hundred Apple employees turning six figures are buying dinners for), the urge to bust your balls hunched over a computer screen 50 hours a week so you can acquire the latest iteration of some useless gadget and pay taxes for your active dispossession kind of fades away. The Dude abides his new perspective.

Poolside in America is the nation’s 21st century battle cry. And why not? The country is sinking fast under mounds of debt, unemployment, and alienation. The government pushes propaganda and policies that undermine the very concept of a nation, so no wonder growing numbers of Americans are jettisoning any feeling of duty toward their homeland like so much gassy ballast. Social atomization and the sheer massive scale of a bloated 300+ million population of competing races, ethnicities, behaviors, and temperaments herded like cats under ever-tightening rules and regulations and surveillance drones doomed to fail are splintering hard-earned loyalty and severing bonhomie. Obscene inequality of wealth and the total abandonment of noblesse oblige by the ruling classes has emboldened the leeches and parasites and sociopaths and hedonists and nihilists and clear thinkers. In the land of the left-behind, the poolsider is king.

Toward the end of the video, the interviewer asks RattLife Surfer if he feels guilty for taking advantage of Obama’s removal of restrictions on qualifying for food stamps, and helping himself to $200 of “free” money every month. He says no, and I believe him. It would be strange to feel guilt for sucking a pittance of Danegeld from fat cats helping themselves to ungodly profits from arcane financial transactions abetted by a cognitive firewall between the masses and the gated 0.1%ers on the hunt for ever-cheaper labor imported from shitholes. RattLife has made a very rational decision regarding his well-being: He has looked at the world he inherited, at the immense chasm between the haves and (relative) have-nots, and has figured that slaving away in a cube farm or a grimy sweatshop on a stagnating wage to serve a smaller and smaller cadre of super wealthy and femcunt HR schoolmarms is no life at all. What is the point of busting your hump when the brass ring has moved from your fingertips to Alpha Centauri?

“My job is to make sure the sun’s up and the girls are out.”

Now that’s radical.

[crypto-donation-box]

Hugo Schwyzer, buffoon. Hugo Schwyzer, hypocrite. Hugo Schwyzer, self-proclaimed male feminist leader. Hugo Schwyzer, lover of porn stars, seducer of younger coeds, defiler of the matrimonial vow, potential giver of the herpes simplex Types 1 and 2, self-pegging fap-exposing murder-suicide contemplating part-time homosexing beacon of hope to dumbass feminists and their suck-up allies.

Now we can add one more honorific to Schwyzer’s curriculum vitae: Disgraced, womanly pity whore.

And who, besides Schwyzer himself, helped bring Schwyzer to the depths of the most public of public humiliations? Who was the first to mock his phoniness, ridicule his idiotic male feminist musings, turn him over on the spit for the world to poke with pointed sticks, implicate his supporters and advocates for hitching their fortunes to his ass-kissing self-aggrandizing lies?

Who, indeed.

Schwyster knows all this, too, which makes him a phonyfuck of the highest caliber. The guy spent his early years as a professor cashing in his higher status for the pleasure of fucking his 18-21 year old students. Maybe he is wracked with guilt, and his current ultrafeminist stance is his form of atonement. Or maybe (and more likely, in my view) his hypocritical feminist sycophancy is a ruse to get in the panties of the deluded naifs who take his classes.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that. The difference between me and a lickspittle errand boy like Schwyster is that I don’t go around claiming there’s something psychologically wrong with men for desiring the hot bods and feminine charms of young women. I don’t blame a guy like Schwyster for wanting to stick his dick in his peak fertility students, nor do I stroke feminist egos to earn PC brownie points and page views.

If you want to know who got under Hugo’s skin the most, you need only see which of his tormenters goes missing by name from his meltdown Twitter feed and from his confessionals to less sadistic bloggers than CH.

The reason Hugo doesn’t want to credit the source of his everlasting torment is because CH stuck the shiv in his mottled hide hard and deep, and it’s the twist that still pains him. Unlike many more charitable judgers of Hugo Schwyzer, I feel no pity toward him, nor any incipient feeling of charity. He is a liar, a phonyfuck, a charlatan, and a male attention whore with flapping labia where his mouth should be. He is an enabler of the worst of society, a useful tool conveying the rotten propaganda of assorted losers and misfits and degenerates, singing their off-key tune while he happily cashed in his exploitative scheming for the very nubile rewards his mass of followers tune in to hear him rail against. He is utterly repellent, a lizard in human clothing. I hope that he slices lengthwise, and should he do so, I will dance a happy snoopy dance the likes of which the dark side of the internet has never seen.

But there is a bigger story here than Hugo’s personal twilight, and that is the quickness with which mainstream, widely read feminist media outlets are attempting to bury and conveniently forget their association with Schwyzer. Hugo was, for a long time, a well-regarded paid contributor to such popular feminist and feminism-favoring organs as Jezebel, BlogHer, xojaneThe Atlantic, and The Good Men Project. As Chuck noted,

But a few outlets like The Good Men Project, Jezebel, and The Atlantic took a chance on the history and gender studies professor from Pasadena City College who established himself as a male pop feminist by kissing the right asses and having sex with the right people.  Those outlets have avoided addressing their relationship with Hugo.  Jezebel’s editor Jessica Coen wrote a slippery post which was clearly about her former writer, but she wasn’t willing to actually mention Hugo by name. The post was evasive, and many commenters at the site called Coen out for it since Jezebel generally has a confrontational style.  I pitched my conversations with Hugo to The Atlantic as a tale of how two adversaries had spoken about his troubles.  Maybe my low Klout score kept the editor there from accepting the pitch.  And I didn’t go to The Good Men Project with a piece because they’re boring.  Regardless, all of those outlets saw the same person before them that me and many other critics of feminism saw, but they hosted Hugo for years.  Behold the power of telling people what they want to hear.

Funny how that works. You tell an ego-parched fug feminist what she wants to hear, and she opens her legs to your cock and her internet real estate to your cockamamie drivel, believing… oh, so very believing!… .that the male feminist lunacy dripping like honey into her ear palate was the Word of Goddess Herself. Hugo had a niche, and his sneaky fucker strategy netted him the adulation and the blowjobs he craved. Such a niche is not without its merits, but do keep in mind that being a community college professor to dimwits, however lowly in the academia hierarchy, is the lube that greases the coed skids. Playing the male feminist for fun and profit is not likely to work for the man who doesn’t have that hypergamously-grooved prof podium from which to tingle the tangles of thick-bushed queer gender studies acolytes. I don’t fault Hugo for pursuing this snatch-accumulating strategy. But I do shit in his lying face, and I do shit again in the faces of those who took his lies for truth.

So this is a glorious time to be an anti-male feminist. The wails and the rending of pit-stained t-shirts of the manboobs and the scalzied and the Dumb Hams of the world are the dulcet melodies of soaring symphonies, punctuated by the thunderous cymbal crash of lies being smashed. Ahhh, indeed.

But Hugo is an impenetrable pathological narcissist. No amount of soul shivving, however poison-tipped or torturously twisted to tickle vitals, will bring him the event horizon pain he so richly deserves. A shell entity who lives and breathes publicity, bad or good, will only welcome the psy knife that surgically pries his id. No, Hugo will only feel pain, real pain, when something else, something much more threatening to his ego survival, is presented to him. And that something else is Ostracism Total.

The targets of tender CH ministrations, then, are Hugo’s benefactors as much as Hugo himself. Jizzebel, The Atlantic, Good Men Project… you were duped, but only because you wanted to be duped. You wanted to believe in equalist, man-hating lies that caressed your stunted, shriveled, gimpy souls. You bent over and received the tepid diseased injection of a broken freak who knew how to locate and lick your ascended testes. Losers of a feather…

Jizzebel et al., you are served notice. I have you and your lackeys in my sights, and your filth that spews from the fountain of filth which is your whole stillborn existence is the effluvium I will shove back down your throats until you choke on it and recede from public discourse to clear the shit from your veins. The days when you can hire gutter liars like Hugo Schwyzer, and wallow in his fetid stink free of consequence, are over. Your only hope is to drive the Schwyzerian rats from your manicured harridan shelters, so that your circle diddles may continue under the radar of stone cold soul shivvers like yours truly with an eye and a scalpel for finding and dissecting egoistic neediness.

Then, when you — Jizzebel and the rest of the twisted sisters — have cast Hugo and his fellow castrati to the icy wastelands, will the real howls of pain fill the air to the delight of CH guardians of truth and beauty. For nothing will torment the likes of Hugo Schwyzer more profoundly than the torment of solitude.

Hugo, I know you’re reading this. If my words will bring any goodness and light to this world, your days as a lying sack of shit media token shilling for other lying sacks of shit are over. No one will call you, not even your former feminist allies. No one will publish you. No one will admire cross-eyed your throbbing intellect. No one will talk of you. No one will even think of you. When that day comes, and the barrel of the pistol is nestled in your mouth, lazing metallically on your tongue as your thinning, middle-aged lips glide over the shaft like long-ago unshaven feminist coed lovers used to do to your anti-feminist, patriarchal boner, no one, not even your family, will give a shit.

And that will be the lonely solitary pain from which you can’t escape or repurpose to your craven desires. In that moment, that sweet final moment of true and real reflection just before self-deliverance, you will think of my words, and my reminder that you had a choice to turn yourself against the mountain of lies you willingly embraced as your totem and your fate and your salvation. Sweet dreams, eternal darkness.

[crypto-donation-box]

This reader is very proud of his text game,

I just had a text exchange I am so proud of that I couldn’t help but share it with you. Feel free to post it if you’d like, but please don’t use my name. Thanks.

Girl: Level of disappointment from a scale of 1 to 10 with 10 being the break up of the beatles and and 1 being the break up of the spice girls

Girl: …of me possibly rescheduling our rendezvous to next week

Me: Is this a trick question? I loved the spice girls

Girl: Nevermind.  Ill see you Thursday

How alpha is this reader’s text reply? On a scale of 1 to 10, with 10 being STEVE MOTHERFUCKIN MCQUEEN alpha, and 1 being Hugo Schwyzer situational alpha which fails the second he walks out of a roomful of deranged feminist coeds, I would rate his reply an 8.

An 8 means the reply is more than serviceable; it actually boosts his alpha cred a little. But what prevents the reply from reaching the exalted heights of 10dom is the springboard from which it was launched. You see, a truly alpha text message is one that careens out of nowhere, takes a girl by surprise, and instantly moistens her cortical ham for further romantic interaction. But this reader’s reply came on the heel of a very turgid message from the girl; a message so long-winded and carefully constructed that a third party reading it would come to the easy conclusion that she already harbored strong feelings for this reader.

Evidence shows the reader was operating from a position of prior alphatude, a fact which docks a couple points from the alpha score of his text reply. It was a fine reply sir, but like virtue free of the temptation of vice, alphaness is easy when it isn’t being tested by female aloofness.

[crypto-donation-box]

Spot The Alpha

The evidence:

Man in the back left can hardly contain his joy. Or his perforated ulcer. His fingers grip his super-sized prize like a rock climber dangling from a cliff face with no rope. He’s not about to let her tip over and capsize into her friend. After all, what is better in life than a fat chick with no tits?

Man in the back right is more composed, and maintains a firmer grip on his ballast. He seems fairly aware of the load capacity of his lumberjack arms and cornfed quads, and glows with the inner peace of a zen master who has touched the face of a semi-cute chick with his peen without ever having to touch her porky wet hole with it.

Girl in the front left is straining under the weight (heh) of her phony smile. She despises her reproductive partner, her grotesque starch bomb body, her life. But she loves her BBBFF who always makes her feel special and loved and free to be Princess Gluttony. Her dress sparkles because she knows how to attract the attention of horny military boys with alcoholic astigmatism.

Girl in the front right smiles naturally, smokes and drinks from a red solo cup. She has stuffed her carcass into a slinky cocktail dress meant for women half her size. She exudes self-confidence. Clearly, she is American. She likes her man and has taken many of his loads betwixt her fat girl ta tas. She is destined to cheat on him with a black man.

The conclusion:

The girl in the front right is the alpha male. Remember what the alpha male signifies: He is the man with options, who is dating “out of his league”, according to conventional metrics of date worthiness. Judging by this photo, the man who has made out like a bandit happens to be a woman.

And isn’t that modern society in a nutless-shell? An alpha male woman smothering the life out of a man who can do better, but won’t.

[crypto-donation-box]

Commenter FeministX, Indian woman (she would be offended if you called her “Indian-American”, as that would be too disparaging of her vibrancy privilege) says,

Based on media attention, it doesn’t seem like white women have been the gold standard for a long time. Doesn’t seem like blond women were ever the gold standard as neither Raquel Welch nor Sophia Loren were blond and they were beauties of yesteryear. Of fair women, it’s really difficult to see how nordic women were ever more attractive than slavic women.

It seems like all caucasoid groups can produce 10s though the average female attractiveness surely differs across groups. Salma Hayek is half lebanese half mexican. Monica Belluci is Italian and black haired. Aishwarya Rai is south Indian. Adriana Lima is a latina mix that includes black and native. Even Vanessa Williams looked like a 10 to me in the early 90s as her face is very caucasoid.

Personally, I’m not sure if Ive ever seen a 100% east asian or 100% sub saharan woman with a 10 face. But to me it looks like caucasoid groups can all produce beauties of the same grade A+ caliber. Across different caucasoid groups, 10s look sort of similar to each other despite the difference in skin tone. They seem to be the standard of beauty, not a particular race.

There are three methods for determining if a race’s women are the globalized gold standard in physical attractiveness:

1. Direct measurement

There is substantial evidence that beauty is quantifiable and measurable. Direct measurement of various facial ratios found in women from around the world would tell us which race’s women came closest to meeting the beauty ideal. This method would result in the most accurate results, but many religious believers in equalism would go to their graves denying in the face (heh) of all scientific evidence and common sense that beauty has an objective basis. It is likely this sort of scientific inquiry will not be done in our lifetimes.

2. Media exposure

The premise is simple: The most desirable women are the ones most represented in mass media as icons of beauty. If Unavision and Korean beauty pageants are any indication, white women (and facsimiles of white women) are beloved in large swaths of the non-white world. In fact, based on media presence, it seems the only areas of the world where the beauty of white women *isn’t* idealized are in the homelands of whites: the Anglosphere and Europe.

The downside to using this method to determine white women’s relative attractiveness is the result-skewing effects of propaganda. The media both reflects cultural taste, and molds it in the image that the gatekeepers of social discourse want it to go. So a media blitz to, say, elevate the desirability of Aboriginal women would not be fairly representative of their attractiveness to the world’s men.

3. Male preference

Outside of direct measurement, this is the method that will yield results closest to reality. Watch what men do, not what they say. Which women do men from around the world prefer to gaze at? Which women do men prefer to bang? Marry? Etc. For that, we can look at porn stats to see if white women are disproportionately represented. Another method is to examine the historical sex slavery data to find out, contra FeministX, if white women have or haven’t been the “gold standard” in attractiveness for a long time.

Peter Frost has a series of post looking into this very question, and the results are sure to stick another shiv into the black hearts of beauty relativists: White women (and whiter women) have historically been desired as concubines and sex slaves by non-white men.

***

Putting it all together — (limited) direct measurement data, total media exposure, and male preference (both current and historical) — the conclusion is hard to escape: White women are indeed the global gold standard in beauty. There are exceptions, of course, and not every white woman is beautiful (far from it, and less so today thanks to the obesity epidemic), but on a large scale analysis, white women appear to be the women that all the world’s men want, and the women that the world’s women want to be.

[crypto-donation-box]

Dovetailing from yesterday’s post, further enlightening excerpts from that most awesome 1910 game guide titled “Modern Woman and How to Manage Her“:

There are two universal theories concerning women: 1. That she is gentle and 2. That she is cruel. How have these conflicting views arisen? Why do men when in grief or difficulties so often seek the sympathy and the advice of women? Why on the other hand do men declare that women are capable of incredible cruelty? Let us attempt to explain this enigma. In those countries where marriage by capture still survives we shall find instructive evidence of that form of the antagonism of the sexes which is inseparable from the great business of love-making. In New Zealand not long ago a Maori wooer, with the consent of the girl’s parents, employed force in winning his bride. He seized the maiden and bore her away, struggling, biting, kicking. Maori girls are almost as physically strong as men and it was often a wrestling match of fairly equal combatants. We read that it was sometimes the work of hours before the captor could carry the resisting maiden a hundred yards. Thus love begins among the Maoris as among other and more advanced races with actual cruelty, strife and pain.

A Bedouin virgin makes a show of resistance to her lover by pelting him with stones which often wound the suitor. When he grapples with her she bites and uses her fists and nails even though she loves him and desires to be captured. The European woman does not as a rule display such forms of physical violence but the elements of anger, fear, and the desire to inflict pain enter more or less into most courtships. [ed: emphasis mine.]

In Spain, until the middle of the nineteenth century, women took pleasure in watching a lover flog himself until the blood flowed, and the elaborate system of courtship still observed in that country which insists that the suitor should wait for hours, day after day, beneath the maiden’s window till she deigns to smile upon him is a survival of the ancient custom of self torture as a means of winning a woman’s favour.

There are cases recorded of women who find exquisite satisfaction in the infliction of both mental and physical pain upon their lovers. Such manifestations are related to the passion of love and have a very important biological significance.

From this source springs the female instinct of teasing which is noticeable even among little girls in their play with boys. Every man can recall boyish experiences of this kind. From fourteen up to sweet seventeen and sometimes after that age girls frequently tease, snub and vex the youths of their acquaintance with much zest. The shyest boys [ed: betas] are most exposed to these lacerating snubs. No man dare be as rude as a woman. Her sex protects her from the retaliation of a retort discourteous. This love of tormenting the opposite sex reaches its height in many young girls when a young man is deeply in love with them, and the romantic and ardent types of youths are the chief sufferers from this form of feminine bullying.

I have heard a beautiful woman of this order describe with gusto the manner in which she first encouraged her lovers and then having brought them to her feet rejected them with polite disdain. The spectacle of a man grovelling for her consent caused acute pleasure.

The emotion that underlies this impulse to tease men and to excite their anger is a phase of sex antagonism, but it is very intimately associated with sexual feeling. The contempt, the coldness, and the cruelty are unconsciously directed by the woman towards an end, and they are frequently the expression of an amative nature. In its milder forms, unkindness to a lover is a very common trait among women. It is often employed to stimulate ardour and to test a man’s devotion. Women who in love first blow hot and then cold by turn are obeying a primitive instinct which has played an important part in the relationship of the sexes.

What the author, Gallichan, is describing here is known to modern seducers as the shit test.  Plus, what is also being described is possibly the first layman’s observations on what would come to be known as the Borderline Personality Disorder woman, (cf., Penelope Trunk), and the Attention Whore.

What Gallichan understands is what PUAs understand — when a woman shit tests you, i.e. when she teases and taunts you, she is in fact romantically aroused by you and her cruelty is a test of your mettle as a man. Will you remain “devoted” — aka unflustered by her theatrics — or will you wilt like a shy beta boy shrunk to hunched shame by her sharp barbs?

Read the last quoted line again. Push-pull PUA game is, like most game techniques, an arrogation by men of traditional female game. When you use a woman’s natural seductions against her, such as her instinct to “first blow hot and then cold”, you inflame her to passions the equal degree to which her beauty inflames men. Few men know to do this; fewer still execute the game skillfully. So if you can do it, you set yourself above every other man she knows, and above herself. Which is where she likes her man.

[crypto-donation-box]

Open Borders Logo Contest

Sperglord, or Master Meta-Troll, Bryan “the moral and utilitarian thing to do is open the border to my rectum to any undersexed homosexuals so that Gross Domestic Penis is increased” Caplan is hosting an Open Borders Logo Contest. Naturally, the site was infiltrated with mischievous pranksters (Leroy Krune!). My favorite so far:

I think the funniest thing about the pranksters is how oblivious Team Autist appeared to be to their pet project getting tooled so blatantly. One of the Team Autist members, Rojas, “Liked” Krune’s obvious trolls multiple times.

If I were to design an Open Borders Logo, it would pack a little more visceral punch.

UPDATE

Here’s the Immigration Restrictionist Logo:

[crypto-donation-box]

Libertardian piths,

Literature is full of this stuff [women tooling men], going back to the Bible. Civilization reins it in, but of course in the West we had to abolish civilization because it was hurting people’s feelings.

First things first… excellent handle Libertardian. Bryan Caplan would laugh if he had a functioning empathy module.

Yes, it does appear that the Cathedral’s entire 60-year project of dismantling the West to its pre-civilizational state is the rotten fruit of the leftoids’ REM-ish “everybody hurts” infantile morality hitched to the engine of their endless war against their heretic racial cousins.

Every monster and manboob, every fat feminist and single mom, every quadgender and third world wretched refuse had to be appeased and their crocodile tears dried, and the cause of all their histrionically dramatized hurty — white civilization itself — razed to make room for the glorious vomit of vibrancy that is currently prolapsing the rectum of the historical West.

God looked over all that He had made, and saw that it was good. The leftoid looked over all that his ancestors had made, and saw that it was good enough to squander. And on the eighth day, the leftoid rested his gated community security detail.

Well, if there is still fight left in some, then it is your pleasure to throw back into the Cathedral’s shitty mouth, truly the shit-pool of all shit, all the muck and shit which its damnable rottenness has vomited up.

*Historical figure quoted in this post for any keen-eyed sleuths.

[crypto-donation-box]

Tight Game From 1910

Full-Fledged Fiasco passed along this link to an example of the kind of game that men had access to way back in 1910:

Modern Woman and How to Manage Her, by Walter M. Gallichan, 1910

Beautifully put. The Gilded Age stands in stark contrast to the Gelded Age in which we are currently mired. And mirin.

Game has always been with us. Contrary to the flimsy strawmen of game denialists who delude themselves into thinking game is some sort of modern nerd fest with no analogue in esteemed cultural history, the facts bear out just how romantically savvy and game-aware were men of the past, should those men have chosen to enlighten themselves beyond their mothers’ saccharine teachings. One hundred years ago, people knew what women were about; only recently it seems we have had to relearn the age-old lessons. Blame it on the Flim-flam Effect.

Of course, this knowledge of the crimson arts was likely not known by the term “game” in 1910. Perhaps it went by some other name, like “reality”, or “charisma”, or “the Gods of the Copybook Headings”. The term that is used to describe ancient human rhythms is irrelevant; what matters are the insights. And in 1910, at least some had amazing insight into the feminine soul. Look at the ways this passage closely aligns with modern game teachings.

“the impulse to nag must be regarded as common and normal in women”

Modern game theorists accept as a foundational premise that sex differences in behavior are real, and immutable, and that ignoring these differences will have profound consequences for one’s success in the sexual market.

“it is only when the nagging is incessant and excessive that it degenerates into a morbid vice”

Relationship game. Women get progressively nastier to the men in their lives if those men allow them to run roughshod. This is known as the creeping betatization of domestication. (Nice ring to it.) A woman’s happiness and contentment in a relationship are directly proportional to the willing refusal of her man to put up with her shit.

“the best way to manage a nagging woman is to agree with her that you are a perfect brute and wretch”

Agree and amplify. Core game technique.

“and then to laugh at her”

Amused mastery. Core game concept.

“if that fails, fly from her presence”

NEXT.

What in that antediluvian, 90% white America paragraph is substantially different from anything taught today by avowed pick-up artists? Answer: Nothing. The only major difference between the “game” of yesteryear and the game of today is the scientific strength and experimental feedback that modern seduction proponents draw from relatively recent developments like evolutionary psychology and instantly transmitted field reports.. If you were to talk to a savvy man from 1910 about evolutionary psychology, he would look at you like you were from Mars. But if you were to ask him how he handles his woman, a wealth of knowledge would be yours for the taking.

It’s time for American men to return to their roots. Their deep roots. Only from the roots will the tree of knowledge of good and evil regrow its lost might.

[crypto-donation-box]

How Women Tool Men

White knights are front page news at the Chateau this week, so today we will examine the myriad ways women tool men and make fools of those duty-bound chowderheads with aspirations to white knighting.

1. Let’s You and Him Fight

This is a classic, and often successful, tooling tactic that women throughout history have employed to great personal advantage (or just great personal entertainment). The preferred subterfuge of drama-craving cunts, the LYAHF method — also known as the “got volunteered” method — typically relies on “harmlessly” flirting with a man to encourage his boldness, and then complaining about his reciprocated flirtations to another man, usually a dopey boyfriend, in hopes of inciting the two men to duke it out for make benefit of her joyous glee and erupting ego. The drama-craving cunt (DCC) is found throughout the world, but its natural habitat is in the US, where she rules the land with an iron clit. She ‘mirin, alright… ‘mirin herself. For what is more exciting to a woman, more validating of her labially-engorged ego, than to watch two men pummel each other for her maiden honor?

The man who falls for the “Let’s You and Him Fight” ruse is truly a dumb fuck, the biggest tool in the toolbag. The only proper (and alpha) response to an obvious LYAHF is one that yer humble host, CH himself, once said to a DCC years ago when confronted with the exact scenario described above:

“Does this do it for you? Are you turned on? Don’t call.”

2. A House Divided/Guilt by Association

A woman’s strength is not in her muscles, it’s in her forked tongue. With well-poisoning whisperings of malicious slander, she turns the group against those members she hates, and hopes to draw white knights looking for an illusory pussy pass to her cause. You can read a  great example of a woman using the “House Divided/Guilt by Association” strategy over at this comment thread. Search for ”lucretia”. Many a white knight will be duped by this female tactic, because their reflexive disposition to group loyalty and alleviating female distress will override their good judgment of the individual under attack. If a woman cannot win a direct confrontation with a stronger foe, she will act to enlist white knights to isolate, ostracize and destroy the “iconoclasts” that bedevil her.

3. Appeals to Male Honor

The cunning woman knows that a man’s Achilles’ heel is his sense of honor and stoic duty, virtues that, by nature of their sacrosanct inviolability in the male psyche, are ripe for subversion and mobilization to malevolent causes of the woman’s choosing. A woman who can appeal to male honor is a woman with an army at her disposal. And none are more self-righteously believing of their strict adherence to a code of honor than the wannabe white knights.

A well-known example of a woman using the “Appeal to Male Honor” ruse is the single mom imploring a beta boyfriend to marry her and take on her bastard spawn as his own. With wet eyes and craned neck, the woman manipulates the beta’s wellspring of duty-bound honor to her advantage. Marrying a single mom “for the children” is a form of white knighting to which many beta males will acquiesce and post-rationalize as favorable to their individual circumstance. Similarly, the single mom can marshal the power of a million honor-fueled white knights — the State — to shame, hunt down, and squeeze dry deadbeat dads, or, as is more the case recently, newly acquired live-in boyfriends. For what is more honorable (from the distressed woman’s point of view) than a man who is not the father of her bastard spawn taking up the duty to help raise them without complaint or recompense?

4. Damsel in Distress

Perhaps the most renowned of female tooling tactics, the Damsel in Distress ploy, aka the Wounded Gazelle Gambit, has lured many a man into precarious, and sometimes life-threatening, situations to ostensibly “save” a woman usually from a predicament of her own making. Or, just as often, from a manufactured predicament that serves no purpose other than to redistribute time, energy and resources from the man to the scheming woman. The toolbag with white knight pretensions will not be able to resist the siren song of the damsel in distress, and he will often be lavishly rewarded for his assistance with a strong hug and admittance to the woman’s circle of asexual male feminist friends.

5. Why Did You Make Me Hit You?

Ah, there’s nothing quite as exasperating as the stone cold bitch who makes it seem like her bitchiness is all your fault. While this particular tooling tactic is not gender specific, women are most often the ones to use it. (Violent manipulative jerks are too small a percentage of the total population of men to account for more than a minority of this tactic’s adherents.) The woman relying on WDYMMHY will disparage her boyfriend, reducing him to an incoherent lump of uselessness, and then manage through psychological trickery to blame him for her cuntery. He, being a tool-able white knight, will accept his blame and proceed to prostrate himself even further to win back her good graces. This never works.

6. Self-Harm Emotional Blackmail

A girlfriend threatens to off herself. Perhaps she enlivens the scene with a dramatically and conspicuously placed half-empty bottle of pills, a few scattered on the bedsheet. She turns to you, tears falling from her eyes, begging for your love or your understanding or whatever happens to be her craving du jour. You, being the white knight in training you are, can’t resist her calculated vulnerability, and rush to her aid, promising her everything her heart desires. She cuddles, another victory notched on her id-post.

Arguably the most dangerous of the female tooling tactics because of the limited options to defend against it, Self-Harm Emotional Blackmail draws its power from reliance on total female enfeeblement, manipulating the male instinct to protect and serve to whichever ends the woman desires. Even a man who is an avowed anti-white knighter will find it difficult to resist consoling the woman in the middle of deploying a SHEB psy ops campaign. The best defense is also a simple defense: Call her bluff. Throw the razor blade at her and remind her to slice lengthwise. Naturally, she won’t do this, (if she does, you just lost a perennial headache), and your relationship can then proceed with you firmly in the driver’s seat, owning all the hand.

***

This is a list of the most common female tooling tactics. Men tool women, as well, the most obvious example of male tooling being the cad who makes promises of commitment. But tooling as a form of art was perfected by women, and it is women who are quickest to resort to tooling for personal gain, and who possess the greatest tooling acumen. Women can do this because there is a ready and willing supply of white knighting men who welcome their own tooling, usually in the misdirected hope that it will advance them to the pudendum gates of pussy paradise. So ignorant of the role the white knights play as the chump and so dumbly prideful of their histrionic savior complex, that they don’t realize they are kissing cousins of the manboob and the male feminist, two specimens of quasi-men privately loathed while simultaneously publicly lauded by women for their self-castration.

Not every woman with the means (i.e. the prettiness) is a tooling maestro. In fact, the majority of women aren’t. If I had to put a number on it, I’d say 30% of women regularly tool beta males men. This means, if you’ve been in three relationships in your life, odds are one of those women tooled you, with or without your awareness. If you plan to make any sort of career out of seducing women, or, conversely, if you plan to settle down in high-risk matrimonial bliss with one woman forever and ever, you had better get up to speed on the dark arts of emotional manipulation that are regularly availed by women if you want to avoid getting taken to the soul cleaners. A stay at Chateau Heartiste is a first step to clearing the mind.

UPDATE

Folks, here’s the main drawback with following “manly”, “honor-bound” codes of masculine conduct regardless of the particulars:

If you never hold a woman accountable for her actions, she’ll keep doing what she’s doing. And if that means tooling you, that’s what she’ll do.

[crypto-donation-box]

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