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The Allure Of The Coy Man

It’s easier to judge men’s sexual interest than it is to judge women’s sexual interest.

Everyone Can Predict The Interest Level Of Men On A Date – But Not Of The Women With Them

When it comes to assessing the romantic playing field — who might be interested in whom — men and women were shown to be equally good at gauging men’s interest during an Indiana University study involving speed dating — and equally bad at judging women’s interest. […]

“The hardest-to-read women were being misperceived at a much higher rate than the hardest-to-read men. Those women were being flirtatious, but it turned out they weren’t interested at all,” said lead author Skyler Place, a doctoral student in IU’s Department of Psychological and Brain Sciences working with cognitive science Professor Peter Todd. “Nobody could really read what these deceptive females were doing, including other women.”  […]

“How people talk might convey more than what they say,” Place said.

Observers did not have to see much of this non-verbal behavior. They were just as good at predicting the speed-dating couple’s interest if they saw only 10 seconds of the date as they were if they saw 30 seconds. The researchers say this showed that observers, even with limited information, could make quick, accurate inferences using “thin slices” of behavior. […]

Evolutionary theory, said Place, predicts a certain level of coyness or even deceptiveness in women because if a relationship is abandoned they may face greater costs, including pregnancy and child rearing. When choosing a mate, it is in a woman’s best interest to get men to open up and talk honestly to give her a better idea of whether they would be good long-term partners.

“In a speed dating environment, you would expect to see these effects dramatically, with the women trying to get the men to be more straightforward, while they themselves remain more coy,” Place said.

Female coyness is an evolutionary adaptation that serves two important purposes; one, it pressures male suitors to be more forthcoming with personal information that could reveal their mate value (and male mate value is more complex than female mate value, which for the latter amounts to mostly how the woman looks), and two, it alters perception of a woman’s sexual fidelity. Coy women tend to be perceived by men as less slutty and therefore better long-term mate prospects who won’t cuckold them.

So that sly smile and subtle shit test tossed out over drinks in a cozy lounge are nothing more than a woman’s mental executions of ancient biological algorithms operating at the subconscious level. Romantic poetry and sweeping odes are man’s attempt to elevate this sordid and banal clanking of the machinery of genetic legacy beyond the realm of disappointment. Can you blame us for smearing lipstick on this pig?

So coyness is the natural state of woman. And informational overload the natural state of man. Men sell, women buy. Men market, women browse. This is the current that carries courtship over hormonally-tossed helical seas.

And yet game, in theory and in practice, teaches men to act opposite their natural instinct; to assume the role and the prerogative and the mindset of the woman in seductive affairs. In essence, to flip the script.

Flipping the script works. It works because women can’t resist a man who won’t tidily play by the established, and oh so boring, rules. A coy man — a man who is as circumspect and judgmental and inscrutable as women normally are at the beginning of a courtship — triggers women’s attraction, much like a woman’s firm round ass and pretty face triggers attraction in men. Male coyness — aka the art of insinuating you are the one being chased — is so odd, and so at adds with biological, not to mention social, norms, that women are compelled to chase the man who effectively adopts such a conceit. A woman thinks to herself, or rather she subthinks to herself (because these thoughts never really materialize fully into conscious awareness):

“This man is coy for a reason. What is he hiding? And how amazing is this part of him he’s hiding? He hasn’t asked a question of me yet. Does he like me or not? I can’t tell. He must have other lovers at his beck and call. I feel strangely intrigued. I need to know more.”

Once a woman is put in this chaser pattern, the seduction is yours to lose. She will be the one readily offering information about herself to win your approval, while you will lean back, literally and figuratively, judging her harshly. For it is true that every woman, despite her boilerplate blather to the contrary, secretly wants to be judged by a man. That’s how she knows you’re better than the rest.

[crypto-donation-box]

Cats And Dogs As Ego Emblems

Are our choice in pets a reflection of our sexual natures as they are or how we wish then to be? A reader:

Wanted to ask you – do you think it is typical for beta males to favor cats as pets and alpha males to favor dogs as pets?

I’m asking this because all nerdy looking, weak, lame and otherwise guys with beta characteristics usually prefer cats.

Internet is very popular of lulzcats and related shit for a reason – it’s because the nerds sit on the internet.

Somehow when you see real men, they are with a loyal and aggressive dog.

Your thoughts?

The greatest male players I’ve ever known had cats. Sleek, mysterious cats, not fluffy designer furrballs. The player who owns a cat — an animal which embodies many human female traits — is telling women that he is comfortable surrounded by feminine energy. He knows how to handle it. He prefers the challenge of women.

Generally, though, the power arc of man-pet complementarity follows your observation. Urban SWPL manginas and socially maladjusted nerdos are more open to owning cats, while conventional country boys and popular jocks tend to shun cat ownership, except for outdoor cats who spend most of their time out of sight, preying on rodents. And then there are noticeable trends in the types of dogs that men will own; gays, artists and upper class dandies preferring precious but useless runty pedigrees and the rest of men preferring big, healthy dogs with legs to run. It’s only at the rightmost tail of player seducers that you see the preference for dogs revert back to cats, owing partly to the fact that a man who spends so much time enjoying the pleasures of women has little left for walking dogs and scooping poop.

But the real contrast in pet ownership is intersex, not intrasex. Most men prefer the company of dogs, and most women prefer cats. While unmarried tomboys with dogs do exist, 9 out of 10 times the chick you date will own a cat, when she has a pet. SWPL chicks are almost universally cat people, though in recent years there has been a slight move toward more dog ownership among this set. There is a reason why the sexes have these preferences.

Pets are symbols of how we see ourselves, and how we would like to be seen. They are extensions of our egos. Dogs are loyal and potentially aggressive. Non-nerdy men who don’t lament their own phalluses love big dogs primarily because of those two reasons. The dog is a symbolic idolization of a man’s yearning for a woman’s uncompromising loyalty, as well as a projection of simmering, virile power. In the dog, the man sublimates the highest virtues of manhood, and his deepest need from womanhood.

Cats are a symbolic idolization of woman’s solipsism, and self-absorption. The mirror is the woman’s world, conceit her currency in trade, coyness and prerogative her highest values. In the cat, the woman sees reflected her own nature, that of the coy and inscrutable object of desire. The cat is thus a narcissistic celebration of her own womanliness.

The cat is smaller and less affectionate than the dog, and this smallness and aloofness feeds a woman’s need to nurture and pry for displays of love, much like a dog’s loyalty and obedience and ready affection feed a man’s need to be admired, to dominate and to enjoy unlimited and unconditional love.

For men, the only thing you need to know is this: while ownership of a big, loyal dog is a leading indicator of alpha maleness, the cat is the animal whose behavior you should mimic to seduce women. Acting like an affectionate, needy dog is beta. Acting like a mysterious, aloof cat is alpha. The primary purpose of owning a dog is training yourself for ownership of a woman.

[crypto-donation-box]

Comment Of The Week

William writes (in relation to the observation that asexual ghouls have a barely concealed hatred for “fuckhounds”):

It’s sad how society has beaten down male sexuality to the point where wanting sex is seen in the same light as being obsessed with sex.

Self-proclaimed (and self-celebrated) asexuals and feminists have a lot in common. The animating force for both is an intense loathing of male* desire.

*correction: straight male desire.

[crypto-donation-box]

There are apparently asexuals among us. They claim they have no interest in sex, and it’s not a psychological coping mechanism for involuntary celibacy.

Jenni is one of the estimated 1% of people in the UK who identify themselves as asexual. Asexuality is described as an orientation, unlike celibacy which is a choice.

“People say ‘well if you’ve not tried it, then how do you know?’” says Jenni.

“Well if you’re straight have you tried having sex with somebody you know of the same sex as you? How do you know you wouldn’t enjoy that? You just know that if you’re not interested in it, you’re not interested in it, regardless of having tried it or not.”

I’m trying to picture how musty and cobwebbed her vagina must be. It’s probably fused shut at this point, kind of how the skin of morbidly obese corpses will fuse with the couches they died on. I wonder if she’s ever shoved anything up her puss to get off? If so, that would put the lie to her assertion that she has no desire for sex. More likely, she just fears and loathes male sexuality. I bet her nightmares consists of 3D penises raining down on her like ICBMs scarring the sky with cum contrails.

This is true of Jenni who is heteroromantic, and although having no interest in sex, is still attracted to people, and is in a relationship with 22-year-old Tim. Tim, however, is not asexual.

“A lot of people actually ask if I am being selfish and keeping him in a relationship that he won’t get anything he wants [from] and he should go and date somebody like him, but he seems quite happy, so I’d say I’d leave that up to him,” says Jenni.

Just when you thought the world couldn’t possibly have enough self-hating beta males willing to sacrifice a basic human need for the company of weirdo übercockteases. And is it my imagination, or is the ratio of white and asian beta to alpha getting more skewed every year? Welcome to Generation Puffboy.

Tim is enjoying spending time with and getting to know Jenni by focusing on the romantic aspects of their relationship.

It’s like compliment & cuddle, times one thousand. With no chance for redemption in sight.

“The first time that Jenni mentioned in conversation that she was asexual, my initial thought was ‘hmm that’s kind of odd’,” says Tim, “but then I did know enough not to make assumptions about what that meant.

What a mincing pissant. Tim, when a girl you met has told you that she doesn’t like sex and will never have sex, your first thought should’ve been “I just wasted thirty dates with this insufferable cocktease. How do I get away from her before my emasculation is total?” At the very least, return the favor by using her as a pawn to meet other girls.

[Tim]: “I have never been obsessed with sex. I’ve not been one to have to go out at night and have to have someone to have sex with, because that’s what people do… so I’m not all that concerned about it”.

One reason why betas allow themselves to be LFBFed and used as emotional tampons in perpetuity is that it relieves them of the stress of sacking up and busting a move. You could call it cockooning.

Jenni’s relationship with Tim does have a physical side, as they cuddle and kiss to express their affection for each other.

And there it is. Beta of the Month. Congratulations, Timmy, you sicken the world of normal men and inspire the pity of normal women. When you masturbate away all that pent-up energy, lay down a tarp with a ten yard clearance.

Asexuality has been the subject of very few scientific studies which has led to speculation about why some people feel no sexual attraction.

“There are people who definitely view it as a disorder and are like ‘oh if we give you these pills we can fix it’. Or people who ask you ‘have you had your hormones checked’, as though that’s the obvious solution,” says Jenni.

Maybe Jenni really is clinically asexual. Maybe her brain is missing a few synapses. I can abide that possibility. Or maybe, she feels no sexual attraction because all she dates are betas. In which case, one date with an insensitive jerk who isn’t an uuuuunderstanding wet noodle should clear her condition right up.

“And then you get people who go one step worse, and I have been asked before if I had been molested as a child, which is not an appropriate question to ask somebody to be honest, and also I haven’t been. It was the assumption that ‘hey you have something wrong with you, clearly you were molested as a child’ is just such a terrible attitude to have.”

This is the problem with the modern, equalist society: nothing is wrong with anything. Hey, sweetcheeks, there is something wrong with you. Evolutionarily speaking, there is something very wrong with you. Instead of demanding people pretend you’re normal, embrace your wrongness. Wear it proudly, you princess of deviancy, you queen of crazy.

Let’s have a look at the tense couple.

Now perhaps there’s a chance Timmy is getting some nookie on the side, when he’s away from this sexless cipher. That would mitigate his betaness somewhat. (Only somewhat, because every second with her is a second stripped from more fulfilling endeavors.) I doubt it, though. Look at his face. His pinched, “walk all over me” expression. This is a guy who nurses a secret hard-on every time she hugs him, then rushes home five hours later to drain himself into a couch crease. The least she could do, if sex isn’t her thing and she values his cuddly wuddlies, is give him a tug job to completion. But she never will, because, ultimately, chicks like her are selfish cunts. And when a selfish cunt meets a selfless dweeb, the penis loses.

BOTM: Timmy and his taunted testicles

[crypto-donation-box]

You say evisceration, I say loving ministration.

Ah, Penelope Trunk. For some reason, she gives fellow aspie and open borders ivory tower bubbleboys chubbies, who can’t stop linking to her blog, (comments by “Dave” and “Anotherphil” are illuminating). But Chateau Heartiste called this broad out for the psycho, man-hating bitch she really is a long time ago. And how that judgment has been vindicated. Prescient? Nope. Just open-eyed observers of the human condition, coupled with a smattering of experience with these types of whipsaw women.

The latest Penelope Cunk dramafest comes courtesy of a post on her blog where she displays her wrinkled slate-flat cougar ass and her wretched uncaged id on national internet, complete with bruise she alleges was from her husband, who got sick and tired of her “look at me!” provocations and pushed her into a bedpost out of frustration.

The Farmer told me that he will not beat me up any more if I do not make him stay up late talking to me.

If you asked him why he is still being violent to me, he would tell you that I’m impossible to live with. That I never stop talking. That I never leave him alone. How he can’t get any peace and quiet in his own house. That’s what he’d tell you.

Translation: Penelope Trunk berates, nags, pesters, humiliates, shrieks and wails at her husband at ungodly hours of the night and throughout the day, and he responds, in piques of frustration abetted by his normal male propensity to avoid extended verbal fights with no ending or solution in sight, by physically stifling her to make the unbearable shrew torrent stop.

What feminists either don’t understand or don’t wish to understand is that a nontrivial amount of physical domestic abuse is in response to non-physical provocation. For every action there is a reaction. Women abuse men psychologically because that is where their strength lies, and fortunately for them the marks made by psychological abuse are less photogenic than the marks made by bedposts. So women, in addition to being the beneficiaries of the ancient biological force that subconsciously deems the female of the sex a more valuable commodity than the male, get to enjoy the sympathy of the bovine crowd when they post jpegs of their thigh bruises.

These volatile domestic scenarios are almost never one way streets. Look at Rihanna. Chris Brown is a violent thug, but Rihanna could have easily avoided his flying fists of fury had she just stayed the fuck away from him. And yet, she couldn’t do that. She *still* can’t do that, in fact, and in returning to him to shower him with her love rewards his shitty behavior. Penelope Trunk does something similar with her Farmer hubby, but takes it a step further; she instigates his flashes of anger and desperation purposefully to get a rise out of him, so that she can avoid feeling abandoned. Or whatever the fuck it is she missed out on from daddy.

When guys talk about crazy bitches to stay the fuck away from, Penelope Trunk is Exhibit A.

Now don’t get me wrong. These kinds of women have some use: they are great in bed. Gung-ho master class fucktoys who’ll take it up the poop chute and lick you clean if it means you’ll gaze deeply into her eyes just a little longer. But that’s where it ends. Save your love and commitment for the relatively sane chicks. You give your heart to a drama queen and attention whore like Penelope Trunk and you are asking for a world of emotional torment if you don’t know anything about the proper handling and care of such spaztastic specimens. Because when the screaming and crying and berating don’t work, she’ll step it up to openly flirting with other men in front of you, and then to cheating and leaving clues for you to find out about it, and finally to resorting to insane outbursts to get her hamster fix.

And you will never experience such roided up, coked up, caffeinated hamsters in your life. These critters are unstoppable.

My edumacated guess is that Penelope Trunk’s husband is a beta male at heart who has no clue about women, and even less clue about women like Trunk. He was smitten by her willingness to screw early and often, and her slender proportions, while well past prime attractiveness, compared favorably to the lumbering middle-aged cows on his horizon and put the boner in his pants for the first time in years. Being a man of little breadth of experience with women and zero game or state control, he was easy prey for Trunk’s urbane sadomasochism. She takes advantage of his rustic beta ignorance and naivete and pushes him to the brink as often as she can get away with it, while enjoying the thrill of refueling her ostentatious craving for coerced, theatrical displays of love and a relationship perpetually teetering on the precipice of doom. He, being a salt of the earth kinda guy, has no idea what he got himself into, and his instinct to control an out of control situation impels him to lean on the one defensive maneuver that worked in the past and which rises naturally from the contours of his male brain: his showstopper physical will to power. Of course, the solution is always temporary, and the cycle repeats. Which is exactly how she wants it. And she gets it.

I love a good pile-on as much as the next sadist, so here’s an ego shredding, soul killing, demonic diagnosis worthy of a Chateau Hall of Fame nomination, from a naughty little bastard called The Last Psychiatrist.

Penelope Trunk has a history of sexual abuse by her father.  She has a pattern of intense, unstable relationships; a history of self-cutting, bulimia; is emotionally labile and reactive; and her primary defense mechanism is pretty obviously splitting, i.e. things are all good or they are all bad.

Trunk says she has Asperger’s, and maybe she does, but what I’ve described is “borderline personality disorder.”  BPD is not a description of behavior exactly, it is a description of an adaptive coping strategy.  In other words, people persist with BPD because it works. […]

Knock down fights and great make up sex is psychologically more fulfilling than a normal, calm, low-affect marriage.  Mind numbing jealousy is preferable to being 100% sure of their fidelity, to the point that it will actually be invented.  “Are you just looking for things to be upset about?”  The answer is yes. […]

Nothing is to be gained by saying her husband abuses her, which he does, but nothing is to be gained from saying that unless he’s listening.   She is abusing herself.  I’m not judging her, I’m not saying she is bad or that I don’t understand it, but she’s setting up, well, a pattern of intense, unstable relationships because she needs the intensity and will thus tolerate the unstability.  A relationship isn’t one sided, or bi-directional, it’s a dialectic.  They are very much in it together.

A worthy flaying. Borderline personality disorder is the scientific term for attention whoring, although not all attention whores are BPD victims. Every woman has the seed of an attention whore in her, as it is the caprice of their sex, but some women, women like Trunk, through a combination of genetic enhanced femaleness and environmental instability during the formative years, become raging monsters of insatiable egos with no self-awareness or cultivated sense of modesty.

And here’s the catch. What the Last Psychiatrist describes as a deranged personality imperfection is just the normal female psychology amped up to unsustainable levels of estrogenic insanity. Women really do like a little — or a lot, for some women — uncertainty in their relationships. This is a scientifically as well as observationally settled fact. It is the natural female inclination to swoon and tingle for men who offer doses of delightful discomfort. This inclination, it should be noted, is stronger in younger, prettier girls for whom the option to act out in this way without consequence is readily available.

The Last Psychiatrist has to know that this predilection for drama, affect and uncertainty is primarily a female affliction, and, in small manageable doses, is actually the normal state of emotional functioning for the majority of women. Hamster spinning wackos with advanced cases of BPD like Trunk are extreme manifestations of this innate female condition, much like power hungry sociopaths are the extreme manifestation of the innate male predisposition to maximize status. TLP is right to highlight Trunk’s disease of the id, but he should not be tempted to think that Trunk is a wholly alien representative of the female sex.

Trunk is, to put it mildly, a hyperfemale.

But, alas, the wall looms for hyperfemales as surely as it does for emotionally grounded women. The attention whoring that provoked so much reaction from men when she was younger elicits nothing but indifference at best and contemptuous pity at worst from men when she is older and uglier. TLP:

The thing is, BPD “works” when you are young, there are always people around to tolerate it.  Parents, boyfriend/girlfriend, employers, etc– and being pretty, which Trunk obviously is, helps a lot.  This doesn’t mean people are necessarily nice to her, or that she’s happy; only that  “crazy” behavior is more tolerable to other people when you are young.

The problem for her is she’s not getting any younger, and like it or not the only one who will put up with a 60 year old borderline is no one.  Except maybe the kids, which we will get back to.

Once women start experiencing the consequences of their flighty behavior from getting older and invisible to men, the smart ones among them adjust their expectations, emotional indulgences and demands accordingly. Penelope Trunk, thanks to the sycophantic chorus of her careerist fembot and scrap-begging mangina readers, will likely continue her coyote ugly act on into perpetuity, winding up alone and unloved by anyone but her imagination and bug-eyed omega commenter nerds desperate for human contact. If she hasn’t burned too many bridges and was effective at concealing her complicity in her personal calamities, then she may retain the love of her kids into dotage. That’s a big if. More likely, the kids will slowly realize what a loon she is, and will withdraw their love until they feel safe from entanglement in her manufactured crises.

There is an easy, convenient way to deal with BPD attention whores that won’t get you socially ostracized or locked up. If I had the ear of Trunk’s husband, I’d tell him this. Instilling a dab of dread — a phone call, say, from a location where she can hear the voices of laughing women in the background — would go a long way to satisfying the drama-feeding maw of Trunk’s vagina-shaped id. No blog-fodder bruises required. At the very least, such knowledge can give him more options in women, freeing him from his desperate, fearful clinging to a visually stimulating BPD headcase.

I’ve said it before. Game can save lives. This is not hyperbole. This is goddamned truth.

[crypto-donation-box]

We have previously proved that overconfidence — the “irrational” (is it really irrational when it gets you what you want?) belief that you are better than you really are — will bring you more success with women than having a realistic appraisal of yourself. Poon Commandment XI — be irrationally self-confident — was thus validated by science. In keeping with the spirit of the post, Chateau proprietors gloated. Then preened. Then stroked our egos to a glorious mental money shot.

Now comes another study confirming a core conceit of game that finds men who overestimate women’s attraction for them likely have more mating success.

Why men overestimate their sexiness: it’s evolution, study proposes.

Does she or doesn’t she…? Sexual cues are ambiguous and confounding. We-especially men-often read them wrong. But a new study hypothesizes that the men who get it wrong might be those that evolution has favored. […]

The research involved 96 male 103 female undergraduates, who were put through a “speed-meeting” exercise-talking for three minutes to each of five potential opposite-sex mates. Before the conversations, the participants rated themselves on their own attractiveness and were assessed for the level of their desire for a short-term sexual encounter. After each “meeting,” they rated the partner on a number of categories, including physical attractiveness and sexual interest in the participant.

The results: Men looking for a quick hookup were found to be more likely to overestimate the women’s desire for them. Men who thought they were “hot” also thought the women were hot for them-though men who were actually attractive, by the women’s ratings, did not make this mistake. The more attractive the woman was to the man, the more likely he was to overestimate her interest. And women tended to underestimate men’s desire. [ed: if only the poor dears knew.]

A hopeless mess? Evolutionarily speaking, maybe not, say the psychologists. Over millennia, these errors may in fact have enhanced men’s reproductive success.

“There are two ways you can make an error as a man,” said Perilloux. “Either you think, ‘Oh, wow, that woman’s really interested in me’-and it turns out she’s not. There’s some cost to that,” such as embarrassment or a blow to your reputation. The other error: “She’s interested, and he totally misses out. He misses out on a mating opportunity. That’s a huge cost in terms of reproductive success.” The researchers theorize that the kind of guy who went for it, even at the risk of being rebuffed, scored more often-and passed on his overperceiving tendency to his genetic heirs.

Hmm, which other Poon Commandment does this most recent scientific study confirm? Oh yes, here it is…

XIII. Err on the side of too much boldness, rather than too little

Touching a woman inappropriately on the first date will get you further with her than not touching her at all. Don’t let a woman’s faux indignation at your boldness sway you; they secretly love it when a man aggressively pursues what he wants and makes his sexual intentions known. You don’t have to be an asshole, but if you have no choice, being an inconsiderate asshole beats being a polite beta, every time.

Helicopter meatspin!

If overconfidence is the art of thinking highly of yourself, then overestimation is the equally important art of thinking women think highly of yourself. And, as science and everyday observation inform us, men who are both overconfident in their self-beliefs and who overestimate women’s desire for them are men who score more pussy. You can’t argue with results, even if you find the path taken to success to be unpalatably douche-y.

And for those of you who are primed to erupt on cue about the douchiness of this sort of alpha male behavior, it would behoove you to keep in mind that it is women, not men, who are primarily responsible for the behaviors of men who are seeking mates. If women, as the gatekeepers of sex, did not reward men for their overconfident swagger or their overestimation of their desirability, then we would see less of this behavior among men.

Ask not for whom the douchebag smirks; he smirks for thee.

This study should also throw a bucket of cold ice on a slew of feminist shibboleths. It turns out “no” actually means “keep trying, and you increase your odds of getting between my legs”. And you know that all too common and irritating feminist bleat — one you hear conspicuously often from sluts and slut glorifiers — that unwanted male attention is akin to potential rape? Well, if this study’s conclusions are any indication, men who presume their attention is wanted do better with women than men who humbly bow to their place in the mate hierarchy.

That sound you hear is a million hamsters wheezing for breath.

This post, and the one before about overconfidence, are really exegeses on the rich, creamy pith of game. Every master seducer, every natural who seemingly beds women with the same ease that a sexless nerd drone inserts a memory stick, shares these two traits in common: they have a bottomless well of self-confidence, and they approach every girl as if she can’t wait to experience the pleasure of their company.

TRUE

OR

NOT.

This is the final destination of rock solid inner game. The moment you stop second-guessing your worth, the day you start assuming every girl wants you, is the point in time of the seduction singularity that propels you into a world — a secret society, as one noted pickup artist famously put it — where the mystery of women is made pedestrian and the journey to the center of their hearts becomes as uneventful as a daily commute.

Funnily, the author of the study — a woman, judging by her name — was so scandalized by the implications of her findings that she came to offer advice completely at odds with her study’s conclusions.

The research contains some messages for daters of both sexes, said Perilloux: Women should know the risks and “be as communicative and clear as possible.” Men: “Know that the more attracted you are, the more likely you are to be wrong about her interest.” Again, that may not be as bad as it sounds, she said-”if warning them will prevent heartache later on.”

Let me see if I have this right: men who presume women are interested in them get more sex. So this means men should stop presuming interest from women. Gotcha! You gotta love the female thinking process at work here, which basically amounts to “men should behave against their interests so that women may maximize their interests”. No, Carin Perilloux, a more sensible conclusion to draw from the study is that men should continue doing that which gets them the most sex, your tender equalist sensibilities to the contrary notwithstanding.

Yes, even smart chicks have hamsters. In fact, their hamsters are supercharged. Better, stronger, faster. Which means more opportunity for a man with game to spin their wheels.

[crypto-donation-box]

Adultery can kill marriage dead. So can sexual withdrawal or the death of a child. Now attention is being drawn to nagging, the tool in trade of the self-entitled shrew.

Nagging—the interaction in which one person repeatedly makes a request, the other person repeatedly ignores it and both become increasingly annoyed—is an issue every couple will grapple with at some point. While the word itself can provoke chuckles and eye-rolling, the dynamic can potentially be as dangerous to a marriage as adultery or bad finances. Experts say it is exactly the type of toxic communication that can eventually sink a relationship. […]

It is possible for husbands to nag, and wives to resent them for nagging. But women are more likely to nag, experts say, largely because they are conditioned to feel more responsible for managing home and family life. And they tend to be more sensitive to early signs of problems in a relationship. When women ask for something and don’t get a response, they are quicker to realize something is wrong. The problem is that by asking repeatedly, they make things worse.

The thousand-yard stare. I like to call it the lifeless gaze of surrender. Or the optical tomb of doom. You see it all the time on the faces of beaten down men married one too many years to fat, insolent wives. Many are quick to blame nagging as a source for this post-mortal condition, but to understand nagging you have to get at the root of the problem: the emotional letdown that compels wives to nag in the first place.

Women don’t nag out of the blue. Nor do they nag when they aren’t “getting their requests fulfilled” as the experts like to claim. And women don’t nag because of some nebulous, ill-defined leftie assertion that they suffer under the weight of social conditioning.

No, the root of it is simple: wives nag because their husbands have turned beta. Less succinctly, their husbands have become weak, enfeebled, grasping, defensive, sycophantic, solicitous “yes dear” yes-men. Strong men — alphas, you bet — almost never elicit the nagging response from their wives or girlfriends, and they aren’t exactly bending over backwards to do 50% of the housework or scrambling to fulfill all requests in a timely manner. The difference is that women never feel a need to nag an alpha lover with innumerable trivial demands, because these women who are so lucky to be with willful men have not had their sexual attraction replaced with the cold, dispiriting mentality of a schoolmarm overseeing errand boys.

Any man who takes the “experts’” advice and begins promptly responding to his wife’s nagging, thinking that resolution of her frivolous demands will resolve their marital issues, will only get more nagging, and more firmly shut legs, in return.

On the other side of the equation, the deteriorating wife syndrome explains many cases of nagging as well. Wife gets fat, old and ugly, husband loses sexual and romantic interest, wife responds by nagging to provoke signs of life from listless hubby. And the therapists and counselors say “just do what she says and all will be better”. What fools. This kind of nagging will never go away until the husband makes clear, one way or the other, that his wife’s physical decline will not be tolerated by him. A happy wife with a good body and an alpha husband is a wife who will rarely experience the incipient female compulsion to nag.

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This is not mine. Jim Bowery, a commenter over at The Inductivist (a blog I occasionally indulge), tells the parable of the smart birds manipulated by the genius birds. I link to it because it is very good in that way parables are supposed to be good: by illuminating ancient and immutable dynamics in human social relations and hinting at the lessons therein.

Once there were 3 classes of birds of a feather: Dumb birds, Smart birds and Genius birds. There was also a genius bird of a different feather hanging around. All summer the genius bird of a different feather went around to the smart birds of a feather telling them how ridiculous it was to fly south for the winter — that these atavistic instincts were a terrible legacy from “the bad old days” and gave very sophisticated-sounding arguments that the smart birds of a feather couldn’t quite understand but understood quite well that they’d better pretend to understand lest they be accused of being dumb birds.

Fall cometh. The dumb birds fly south to the derision of the smart birds. The genius birds of a feather think, “I’ve heard the arguments about flying south for the winter being only for dumb birds, but where really do these feelings come from? Could they have survival value? Could the genius bird of a different feather have a conflict of interest?” Even before thinking the answers through, the mere doubts raised were sufficient to motivate flying south. The smart birds of a feather, hearing these doubts raised by the genius birds of a feather proceeded to attack them as “dumb birds”. They felt superior to the genius birds of a feather. Some genius birds of a feather were even injured enough to stop them from being able to fly south.

Winter hits. The smart birds of a feather die. The injured genius birds of a feather die. The genius birds of a different feather turn out to have an adaptation to cold weather. Spring comes. An evolutionary dynamic reveals itself…

The smart bird parable has much to tell us about intergroup competition. “Flying south” is a stand-in for the metaphor of your choice — drug use, single parenthood, mass immigration — and the group can be however you define it, by class, race or religion. It isn’t a precise explication of contemporary social patterns, but what it does well is get at the rudimentary compulsion which drives group antagonism, and the expedient alliances that serve group self-interest and buttress group self-identification.

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Spot The Alpha Male

Which one is the alpha male? A lot of times — an uncomfortable amount of time for most equalists who give it a moment’s thought — you can judge a man’s character simply by looking at him; his expression, his posture, his general vibe. Don’t be thrown by the proximity of slutty ladies. Who looks more like an alpha male to you? And then ask yourself, why does he look alpha?

The photo comes from this story. You’l discover that the guy who looks alpha inevitably attracts his quarry, leaving the beta a broken man, just like millions of betas before him, and family reunions will never be the same. Also, one of the all-time great negs is buried in the article.

I sat with Darren on the sofa with a glass of wine, and suddenly he turned to me and said: “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you looking this attractive.”

That was a Federer backhand right there. Naturally, she lobbed her pussy in return.

I’ve wondered how fathers of sons with pretty girlfriends handle their presence in the household, particularly when the fat wife waddles by to clarify the stark difference in mate value. I know I’d be going for it if the chick was dropping indicators of interest like left-wing Canadian academics drop scientifically flawed, axe-grinding studies.

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A delusional feminist (but I repeat myself) who started a Facebook group called “Pinup Girl Clothing” (don’t ask, it’s stupid), has uploaded a photo of five women with less than ideal bodies and a helpful caption explaining her reason for doing so:

There’s another one of those “this is sexier than this” photos going viral right now, so we’d like to offer an alternative. ALL women are “real” and there is no wrong way to have a body. ♥ Vanessa

The two things feminists hate most: standards, and men who make no apology for their sexual desire.

Let’s have a look at that photo demonstrating the equivalence in attractiveness between women of… unconventional body shapes:

What we have here, from left to right:

1. dumpy, hipless plain jane tatted up to distract from her prepubescent boy’s body
2. morbidly obese cow
3. thin chick whose torso is stretched too long in proportion to her legs
4. obese behemoth
5. masculinized cougar

What immediately jumps out is that the photographer chose a spindly, weirdly contoured chick to stand in for the conventional hourglass-shaped slender babe that nearly all men love and desire. Had a normally proportioned thin girl like this one…

…been chosen instead, then the other four girls would look so much worse in comparison, and we can’t have that reality upsetting the narrative. Nonetheless, even with her body flaws, the thin, pretty blonde in the middle is the most bangable. Tatboy would barely inspire a half-mast chub, the Jabba twins are right out, and most men don’t want to caress rippling triceps and six pack abs on a woman. Especially a woman cresting the hill and in sight of the wall.

Women who can’t compete with the most desired women, or who fall tantalizingly short of competing, or who once competed by now no longer do, must get some kind of deep, ego-sparing emotional satisfaction by telling themselves blatant lies about the reality of female attractiveness and male attraction standards. If women didn’t have an IQ-lowering herd mentality and an obesity epidemic disfiguring the majority of them that prompted them to sing amens in unison every time a femborg shrieked out another reality-denying whopper, we’d hear far less of this crap blaring from all our media channels. Loser chicks would go back to licking their ego wounds the old-fashioned way — by taking up poetry and staring pensively out a bedroom window.

So, for the short bus regulars (this includes you, ♥Vanessa)…

Beauty is objectively measurable. Slender women are more attractive than fat women to the overwhelming majority of men. There was never a time when men liked fat women. A 0.7 waist-to-hip ratio is the most attractive body shape for a woman. A BMI of 20.85 is the most attractive weight for a woman. A young, healthy woman with clear skin is more attractive than an old, unhealthy woman with blotchy skin. Yes, ♥Vanessa, there is a sexual marketplace, women are just as much a commodity to be bartered in this marketplace as men are, there is no alternative to this reality, and there IS a wrong way to have a body.

Hope this hurts.

But at least some women get it.

Brianna Montana: the girl in the middle is not too skinny by far… Shes just in the middle of 2 fat bitches so it makes her look exxxtra tiny.

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