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Trumped-up Charges

Jan 3rd, 2011 by

Women love to bitch and moan about their men. It’s in their blood. But it matters not, most of the time. As long as you smite her heart with your heraldic war pike of forged steel alphaness, her bitching and moaning will waft into the ether, having no influence whatsoever on her desire to cling to you. In fact, bitching and moaning is often a sign that the woman is deeply in love, for such a powerfully debilitating emotion ushers forth a fusillade of half-hearted complaints as a grounding mechanism to steady her so that she can make at least semi-cogent rationalizations why she can’t get enough of your assholery.

There is, however, a time and context when the complaints carry more weight. This is usually right near the end of a relationship, when she has already checked out and is now trying to wriggle free without confronting the real reasons why she feels no tingle. You will know this is happening because complaints you rarely heard before suddenly come out of nowhere, and with increasing frequency. Her bitching, too, will take on a serious cast, and the playfulness with which she needled you before will be gone, replaced by a somber recounting of grievous faults. You will almost picture her wearing a green eyeshade as she ticks off your bothersome habits that, for reasons unclear to your formulaically analytical male mind, she finds irredeemably annoying what once she thought charming, and evidence that you are unsalvageable as a boyfriend.

“You’re late all the time.”

“I hate they way you kiss with the side of your lips.”

“You never got me anything nice.” (You’ll notice girls using an out-of-place past tense when you have been mentally demoted to ex-lover.)

We here at the Chateau know the reason why she has morphed into a human resources department assistant manager: you lost your alpha mojo. Her complaints, more often than not utterly baseless trumped-up charges, are simply mediums through which she contextualizes your emerging betatude. She cannot fathom the subtleties of character deficiency and behavioral emasculation that turn her off, but she can wrap her frazzled hamster around the one time you were ten minutes late picking her up from the train station. And since a woman’s memory for trivial details rivals a quad core CPU, you can expect that she will remember retroactive annoyances from five years ago that today serve as convenient nitpick fodder to justify the torrent of hypergamous preprogramming that propels her away from your domesticated ass.

Happily for you readers, the Chateau is a one stop shop for all your relationship management needs. We don’t just diagnose the problem; we give you solutions. So what do you do when the end is nigh and the bitching has evolved into a stone cold staff meeting? Whatever you do…

DON’T ENGAGE HER LOGICALLY.

Women are probably capable of some rudimentary logical thinking in a pinch, but it isn’t their default mental algorithm, and they won’t like having to be logical when they could defer to their insanely precocious feeeeelings instead. So when you engage a woman logically, assaulting her with the facts and bolstering your case, you are actually signing your own notice of dismissal. In the court of love, fairness is a fleeting proclamation and evidence an obstacle to be tampered with on the way to the Siberian celibacy camps.

“You’re late all the time.”

“No, I’m not. Once or twice, maybe. But do you remember me being on time for the house party last week?”

BAD.

“You’re late all the time.”

“You would be too if your ten other girlfriends were constantly bugging you.”

GOOD.

“I hate the way you kiss with the side of your lips.”

“I don’t do that. You’re just making shit up.”

BAD.

“I hate the way you kiss with the side of your lips.”

“Next time I’ll aim for your ear.”

GOOD.

“You never got me anything nice.”

“Sure I did. What about that cashmere sweater I got you for your birthday?”

BAD.

“You never got me anything nice.”

“Fuck you. That bag of Skittles cost me an arm and a leg.”

MOST EXCELLENT.

The above are merely suggestions for dealing with the red flags of rationalization bitching. Many game strategies are available to you, and all are good in their own way. The point of this post is that under no circumstances should you ever take a woman seriously in relationship matters, unless she is waving a small white stick with a pink tip in front of you.

Even then, proceed with caution.

[crypto-donation-box]

Posted in Escape, Game, Girls, Relationships | Comments Off

Comments Of The Month

Dec 30th, 2010 by

From Marcus:

Mystery is a great example of a guy who has a tremendous amount of empathy for both men and women. I remember watching a video where he was training a new coach, and when the coach said something about bitch shields, Mystery corrected him, calling them “protection shields”. He wasn’t doing it to be PC or to avoid offending women (there were none present) – rather, he was working through the problem in real time by imagining why a woman might behave like a bitch when a man first approaches her.

It sounds strange, but this blog has made me less of a misogynist. I have come to view women as elegant machines — machines for using, to be sure — that mostly do a damned good job of doing what they were designed to do. As I get more comfortable and consistent at either aggressively torquing their levers or gently greasing their gears at just the right moments, my appreciation only deepens.

As with machines, my love of women tends to be more general than specific. Upgrades are always welcome.

I preen. Would that the army of tards who occasionally spill into this exclusive estate reflect on the fact that the underlying message is in reality a romanticist hymn to the unique and abiding attributes of women, warts and all, and to the good that can come from seeing women as they really are instead of as what we wish they were, there would be more love in the world.

And not that fraudulent asexual love that new agers yap about.

***

Comment #2 is from “Me”:

Text messaging back and forth should never be done. He should be too busy out making money or shovelling snow or digging ditches to bury his enemies or some shit like that.

Just ask yourself if Ghengis Khan, a man who killed his first man to prove himself ready to lead his household at age 12..a man who, along with his children and grandchildren, did so much fucking his genes are still active to this day, would be text messaging. I do not think so.

Genghis Khan game. Would Genghis Kahn text? No, he wouldn’t. If a girl texted in front of him while they were on a date (assuming Genghis takes a break from his impressive harem to squeeze in a legitimate date), he would grab the phone out of her hand, place it on a table, and cleave it in two with his war sword. The girl would be pissed, but she’d spend the next five years of her life thinking about him. Five minutes of world bestriding conqueror beats 500 years of beta.

[crypto-donation-box]

Posted in Comment Winners, Vanity | Comments Off

Prole Vs SWPL

Dec 29th, 2010 by

Half Sigma has a running gag on his blog comparing the tastes of proles (the proletariat, i.e. the working class and lower middle class, with perhaps some bleeding into the middle class) with those of the higher classes. I can’t tell if he’s being ironically deadpan or sincere, but it’s funny nonetheless. Categorizing the peculiarities of your lessers is so much more entertaining than watching Dancing With The Stars.

For instance, did you know that Red Delicious apples are prole while Fuji apples are SWPL? I always had a vague inkling that was the case, but now I know why: Red Delicious are oversized, gaudy, juicy and excessively sweet. Fujis are a more natural size, less ostentatious, less juicy and mildly sweet with subtle earthy undertones. This pretty much encapsulates the difference in class tastes; proles have an underdeveloped aesthetic that can only appreciate the bluntness of flash and tackiness, much like how an infant is drawn to bright primary colors. SWPLs have a mature aesthetic that gravitates to understatement, irony, and “hidden meanings”. On the color wheel, SWPLs would be the tertiary colors (red-orange, blue-green). This is because they are mincing little pukes who love to nuance everything to death.

I’m gonna run with this. Expanding on Half Sigma’s theme, here is my prole vs SWPL chart. I count SWPLs as generally middle to upper middle class whites (and some honorary Asians), raised through their formative years in leafy suburbs, and living in hip urban enclaves with other like-minded whites, often on their parents’ dimes. Hipsters, scenesters and yuppies are SWPL subgroups. Their tastes tend to converge even when their politics don’t (although as a rule SWPLs are pretty much standard operating procedure liberals. A conservative SWPL is what’s known as a “benefactor”. Or an engineer.)

Conservative and liberal SWPLs co-locate. Proles cohabitate.

If you have to ask what the acronym SWPL means, you are a prole. Or a foreigner.

Multicolored Christmas lights – prole
White or blue Christmas lights – SWPL
Bulb ornaments – prole
Antique doll ornaments – SWPL
Actual star or an angel on top of tree – prole
Homemade concoction by niece or a cubist representation of a star on top of tree – SWPL
Inflatable Santa and reindeer on front lawn – prole
Only decoration is Christmas tree in window and perhaps wreath on front door – SWPL
Nativity scenes – prole
Christmas miniature villages – SWPL
Kids get electronic toys minus the batteries – prole
Kids get puzzles, books, board games and art supplies with batteries included where necessary – SWPL
CVS brand batteries – prole
Rechargeable batteries (or better still, solar recharging) – SWPL
USAToday – prole
NYBTimes – SWPL
Glenn Beck – prole
Steve Sailer – SWPL
Jim Webb – prole
Nancy Pelosi – SWPL
Alarm clock set to morning zoo radio program – prole
Alarm clock set to soothing cadence of NPR – SWPL
Cloth sofas – prole
Microfiber sofas – SWPL
Motorcycles – prole
Scooters – SWPL
Tuna fish – prole
Salmon – SWPL
Bartlett pears – prole
Asian pears – SWPL
Barbequed ribs – prole
Bison meat – SWPL
Shredded cheese – prole
Smelly cheese – SWPL
Porn with anal penetration and loud, fake moaning from the girls – prole
Regular sex porn with pink-haired emo girls squeaking like mice – SWPL
Sluts – prole
Sluts pretending to be good girls – SWPL
Public sex – prole
Role playing – SWPL
Diabetes – prole
Stress fractures – SWPL
Sugary cereal – prole
Paleo diet – SWPL
Domestic industrial beer – prole
Microbrews – SWPL
Zinfandel – high prole
Pinot noir – SWPL
Shot glasses from different cities and vacation spots – prole
Stemless wine glasses – SWPL
Blended whiskey – prole
Single malt scotch – SWPL
Gays seen as threat or butt of jokes – prole
Gays seen as cool social ornaments or butt of jokes smoothed over with ironic plausible deniability – SWPL
Meth – prole
Coke – SWPL
Weight room – prole
Yoga – SWPL
Backyard wrestling – prole
Marathon running – SWPL
Biceps (men), tits (women) – prole
Six pack (men), calves (women) – SWPL
Children – prole
Apartment sized pets – SWPL
Home installing – prole
Home brewing – SWPL
Decks – prole
Patios – SWPL
Lawns – prole
Gardens – SWPL
“No fat chicks” t-shirt – prole
“This is what a feminist looks like” t-shirt – SWPL
NRA – prole
ACLU – SWPL
Cable – prole
Streaming video – SWPL
QVC – prole
Adult Swim – SWPL
Leno, CSI, DWTS, American Idol, Sarah Palin’s Alaska – prole
Stewart, Colbert, O’Brien, Tosh.o, Tim and Eric – SWPL
NASCAR, UFC – prole
Soccer, tennis – SWPL
Sleeps with fat chicks but would prefer skinny chicks – prole
Sleeps with skinny chicks but claims fat chicks would be perfectly fine – SWPL
Knows what the meaning of “is” is – prole
Knows what the meaning of “is” is, but pretends not to – SWPL
Paid summer jobs (or unemployment) – prole
Unpaid summer internships (AKA unemployment) – SWPL
Disney World – prole
Amsterdam – SWPL
Cleveland – prole
San Francis – SWPL
Patriotism, anti-quotas, de facto integrationism – prole
Feminism, anti-racism, de facto segregationism – SWPL
Transformers – prole
The Kids Are All Right – SWPL
“Show us your tits!” – prole
“Hey ho hey ho, Western culture’s gotta go” – SWPL
Family lives close by (no buffer zone) – prole
Family lives three flyover states away (buffer zone) – SWPL
WWJD? – prole
COEXIST – SWPL
First person shooter – prole
RTS or MMORPG – SWPL
Ford F150 – prole
Vespa – SWPL
Church – prole
Sunday brunch mimosas – SWPL
Drinking and fighting – prole
Drinking and snippily chastising – SWPL
Basement parties – prole
Stoop parties – SWPL
Naturals – prole
PUAs – SWPL
Taylor Swift – prole
MGMT – SWPL
Tom Cruise – prole
Colin Firth – SWPL
Nikes – prole
Vibram Fivefingers – SWPL
Lynyrd Skynyrd t-shirts – prole
Thinkgeek.com t-shirts – SWPL
Motorola  – prole
iPhone – SWPL
Bumping and grinding – prole
Salsa lessons – SWPL
Single moms – prole
Single – SWPL
Wolf whistling – prole
Shy glances – SWPL
PeopleofWalmart.com – prole
Will Wilkinson – SWPL
Divvies the check up by the exact amount each person in a party owes – prole
Splits the check evenly by number of party members – SWPL
Kiddie beauty pageants – prole
Kiddie bilingualism – SWPL

These are, of course, generalizations. Exceptions exist.

I give SWPLs a lot of shit for their hypocrisy, sanctimony and status whoring, but I wouldn’t want to live, for example, a prole lifestyle in a redneck neighborhood where COPS isn’t just a show on TV. The lower classes are crass, boorish and often thoughtlessly impulsive. Their kids are snot-nosed brats and bullies. When they speak their rudimentary patois, you will cringe. Their abysmal taste in the finer pleasures of life is a perpetual turn-off for those who would be their natural political allies. But they already get so much shit from the MSM that I don’t feel an urge to pile on them. I prefer to hunt the hunters.

Low class antics aside, working class proles are, by and large, honorable people. SWPLs are clever neutered ciphers. The average small town prole is much more genial than the typical urban SWPL, and more generous of spirit as well. When charitable giving is on the line, or when it’s a friendly voice and a warm smile you need, proles step up to the plate. SWPLs, meanwhile, are busy quipping like French aristocrats trying so SOO hard to impress their fellow SWPLs.

Proles are the backbone of vital enterprises like the military, but they could learn a thing or two from the culturally advanced classes. Of course, being proles, they probably don’t give a shit about impressing the SWPL schoolmarms, or they at least act like they don’t give a shit. And quite frankly, I don’t blame them for eschewing SWPL tastes. Aside from the aesthetics, what is there to admire in such a repugnantly self-regarding group of irony-pimping, snark-spitting, transnationalist, post-American lifestyle whores?

Both groups are signaling their status through their tastes, so morally neither one is better than the other. They are both sheep with a herd mentality, just following different herds. But an objective aesthetic judgement can be made that at least some (not all) of the SWPL tastes are superior. (Some taste differences are just downright arbitrary, and probably serve more as markers of delineation from perceived lower classes — AKA “wrong kind of white people” — than as honestly felt improvements in quality of life. For instance, there’s nothing about multicolored Christmas lights that makes them inherently inferior to white Christmas lights. In fact, not long ago, white lights were considered gauche.)

I always advise pay no heed to what women say; instead, watch what they do. You shall know them by their actions. Well, the same could be said for the places you choose to live and the people with whom you choose to associate.

Look around you. Do you feel a twinge of cognitive dissonance? Yet you admit to yourself it is a pretty good life. Don’t underestimate the satisfying feeling of being a dark force moving stealthily through the oblivious masses. They will do your bidding.

[crypto-donation-box]

Posted in Culture, Ridiculousness, Status Is King | Comments Off

“Seriously tho! ur pussy rocks!”

Dec 28th, 2010 by

Is this the worst text game ever? Survey says… yes!

“FF” left this comment:

Hello,

I’m wondering if someone could comment on my situation? I came home for xmas, and went to a xmas party at my friends last Thursday. There was a girl “Amy” there who I got introduced to but didn’t really talk to much during the party. Around midnight, me and 3 (guy) friends wanted to go to a bar. We asked if anyone else wanted to come and Amy came along (she didn’t know any of us 3). At the bar I danced with her, made out with her, and went back to her place. We had sex the next 3 nights and mornings. For the most part, we just met up at the end of the night, though one morning we went out for breakfast too.

Anyway, she had to go back to her parents for xmas, about 2 hours away. The first night she was gone (Sunday) I sent her a dumb drunken text message at 1am:

“no amy tonight! :p ”

She didn’t reply.

That night (Monday), I was out with friends, including Jen (Amy’s best friend) and some of Amy’s other friends. When the two other guys left the room to smoke, all the girls sort of cornered me and were teasing me about Amy (“sooooooo, where’s your girlfriend?!?”). I told them to fuck off and acted (I think) convincingly aloof. Then the next day (yesteday) Amy texts me, beginning this exchange:

AMY: Jen says im like your GF now. Thats really great. I can’t wait for you to meet my parents! 🙂

ME: Haha ok xmas at your place I guess 😉
ME: u back in [my-city] b4 xmas?

AMY: No I’m working. I’m coming back before new years around 29th

ME: guess u’ll need all that time to recuperate :p

AMY: And u can use that time to sleep. and listen to my friends make fun of u

ME: jen gave you your daily [my-name] update?

AMY: Haha. No. Jen just told me how much they were making fun of u. I can’t imagine whats so funny about banging a hot chick 3 days straight, but whatever

ME: two people with mutual friends meeting and then having sex the next 3 nights and mornings is always fun gossip for friends
ME: I dont care I like the whole situation. I loved those big perky boobs, firm butt, picture perfect pussy, and cute face…what more could a guy ask for

HER: Haha. Well when you put it like that!

ME: Seriously tho! ur pussy rocks! I feel all warm inside thinking of that thing up in my face (among other places) 😀

And then that was it. I’ll point out there were long (20 minutes) delays between each message (except the ones without spaces between them) – I was driving on the highway, and she seemed to mimic my slow response time. So it didn’t abruptly end, but still.

I can see all sorts of mistakes in my text-game, but I figured given what went on between us it didn’t matter. To sort of fuck things up more I accidently texted her “im outside” when I meant to text another friend about an hour ago, she hasn’t responded.

So, what is the prognosis on my situation? The girl is quite hot (I wouldn’t be stressing if she wasn’t).

We can sometimes learn more from bad game than from observing good game. In that spirit, here is a rundown of where FF went wrong. This case is of particular interest because FF obviously had some attraction at the outset if she acquiesced to banging him for three days straight. But bad followup game can kill even a powerful physical attraction dead.

Also pertinent, Amy sounds like a class A slut. After all, she didn’t know FF before the party which served as the springboard to a three day bangathon. FF should have been able to surmise, then, that Amy would need hardcore uncaring asshole game to keep her slut train rolling on his tracks.

“no amy tonight! :p”

Right out of the gate FF has poisoned his exuberant three day sexual bender with Amy. Never be the first to admit you are missing a girl. Remember, your job as a man is to hang back and make her chase you. Now she is thinking that hers is the only pussy he wants, or presently has access to, and this impression has surely soured her feeelings for him. GIRLS WANT TO THINK YOU HAVE OPTIONS. The threat of male caddishness causes their hamsters to hyperventilate, which powers up the core tingle generator. The wagging tongue emoticon was a transparent coda to grant FF plausible deniability, but girls see through that shit like fake Chloe bags. It would have been much funnier, and less beta, if FF had left off the emoticon. “no amy tonight!” is suitably ambiguous (it could mean he’s really happy she’s not harassing him for sex again), and thus perfect for firing up Amy’s attraction to uncontrollable levels.

She didn’t reply.

Of course she didn’t. Is any regular reader of the Chateau surprised by this? She probably grimaced when the text came over the transom and had a momentary stab of regret for having hooked up with FF.

all the girls sort of cornered me and were teasing me about Amy (“sooooooo, where’s your girlfriend?!?”). I told them to fuck off and acted (I think) convincingly aloof.

Manipulate girl friends as leverage to maximize your alphaness. That’s what they’re there for. This was the perfect opportunity for FF to calmly say “Girlfriend? I wouldn’t use *that* word exactly.” This response avoids a spiteful sounding denial while planting the appropriate alpha asshole subtext in the girl friends’ minds that he could take or leave Amy. This message would undoubtedly get back to Amy, which would even more undoubtedly (re)stoke her desire for him.

AMY: Jen says im like your GF now. Thats really great. I can’t wait for you to meet my parents! 🙂

FF has spooked her. She is not-so-subtly hinting that she doesn’t want to be pressured into a relationship with him. From this point onward, FF is entirely playing into her frame. She is the puppet master, he the dangling penis on strings. Oh, poor Peenocchio.

ME: Haha ok xmas at your place I guess 😉
ME: u back in [my-city] b4 xmas?

Two of his texts to one of hers. FF has the golden ratio ass backwards. The liberal use of emoticons is not helping his cause, either. He is also tacitly assuming that more sex with Amy is a foregone conclusion. When you assume you make a beta out of u and me. Paradoxically, sluts really hate this assumption by the men they fuck. The tramp doth protesteth too much, and all that. Sluts, having served numerous tours of duty in the testicle trenches, are especially sensitive to men taking their pussies for granted. Most men don’t understand that sluts require more phony paeans to their womanly virtue, such as it is, than do chaste girls. Sluts, despite their propensity to give it up sooner, need to know that the men they jump into bed with don’t view their vaginas as 24 hour convenience stores. It is one of the funnier ironies of the universe, and it is what gives rise to the ludicrous sight of Samantha clones indignantly chastising their fly by night lovers for ignoring their emotional female needs.

So if you want to bang a slut more than once, it pays to pretend like you don’t want to bang her. Don’t worry, her pussy won’t hear you.

ME: guess u’ll need all that time to recuperate :p

More forced sexual innuendo. More manboy syntax. More emoticons. The pussy lips are folding in like a clam under attack.

AMY: Haha. No. Jen just told me how much they were making fun of u. I can’t imagine whats so funny about banging a hot chick 3 days straight, but whatever

When a girl mentions her sluttiness, like Amy is doing here, what you are actually hearing is the squeak of her hamster slowly realizing she slept with a beta, and the little bugger is now angling for the confirming blurt of gratitude from the beta who got lucky. Also, calling herself a hot chick is a dead giveaway that her ego is helium filled, and needs the pinprick of a few missile strike negs. FF did not supply those negs.

ME: two people with mutual friends meeting and then having sex the next 3 nights and mornings is always fun gossip for friends

Still dancing to her frame. How does he change the frame and reverse the polarity? Like this: “Hey, they’re your friends.” Even better: “Hot?”

ME: I dont care I like the whole situation. I loved those big perky boobs, firm butt, picture perfect pussy, and cute face…what more could a guy ask for

A little mystery? Now that she knows exactly how much her pussy captivated you for those three days, what fun is there for her in this? Again, note the two texts to her one. And so wordy! Somebody call an amber lamps. This guy is bleeding out alpha capital. Advice: Save the sex talk for face-to-face, preferably *right after actual sex*. You sound like a needy, and slightly creepy, chump here. “Picture perfect”? Painful.

HER: Haha. Well when you put it like that!

Ok, she gives him what he thinks is a positive reply to his bawdy wooing, (but which is in actuality the type of non-flirty verbal ejaculation you would hear from a woman who is temporarily stunned into disbelief by an egregious display of betatude). And of course, like a happy little puppy, he humps her leg:

ME: Seriously tho! ur pussy rocks! I feel all warm inside thinking of that thing up in my face (among other places) 😀

The nail in the coffin. What aphorism comes to mind?… oh yeah, don’t count your boobies before they hatch. Or: past performance is no guarantee of future results.

“Seriously tho! ur pussy rocks!” might be the greatest game-killing line ever uttered in history. What makes it so great is that in the right context, it could double as a *most excellent* alpha neg, akin to “bring the movies“. What’s the right context? Like perhaps in the glow of post-coital bliss. Or the next morning, sent like a dangling modifier minus the emoticon, and no other texts afterward no matter how she replied. Had FF done that I bet he would be enjoying another three day bangout with Amy.

FF thought that three days of sex would imply a margin of error to fuck up any follow through game. But most girls in this day and age who aren’t virgins are not locked down by a weekend of sex. Simple penetration won’t cut it anymore to win the hearts of our current crop of aggrohos. Now if FF had had three *months* of sex with Amy plus one morning of her staring at him with concern in her big, limpid eyes fretting that she wishes FF would say more pillow talk so that she knows he feels as much for her as she does for him…

THEN he’d be riding a margin for error so wide he could fart in his cupped hand and share the gas of love with her.

Come to think of it, cupping farts and assaulting a girlfriend’s nose with the captured effluvium is not really beta, is it? No, no it isn’t.

FF’s text “game” should serve as a good example of how badly direct game can fail when wielded clumsily, or in the wrong context. Moral of the story: Sex is no substitute for game, especially when dealing with sluts for whom sex is as consequential as taking a dump.

[crypto-donation-box]

Posted in Beta, Game, Sluts, Tool Time | Comments Off

Feminism Responsible For The Fall Of Rome

Dec 27th, 2010 by

This guy draws an interesting comparison between feminism in ancient Rome and present day America, and how the rise of feminism portends a civilization’s collapse. The parallels are chilling. Yeah, it’s Reddit, waddaya want from me? You think you’re gonna get this kind of cutting edge analysis in the New York Beta Times?

Unfortunately, feminism and future is an oxymoron (or fortunately, depending on your point-of-view), as it seems to be unsustainable on the long run.

Based on past history, it appears that a civilization that embraces feminist values will cease to exist in just a few centuries. This is why we have never seen a feminist civilization aside from very short spans at the end of the Roman empire and possibly a few other more ancient civilizations.

Reading the history of the Roman Empire brings such glaring similarities with our own civilization, it is as if human social dynamics are literally stuck in a cycle that repeats every couple thousand years (there were two matriarchical, extremely advanced civilizations: one at the end of the Roman empire, 2000 years ago, one possibly at the end of Babylon, 4000 years ago).

For those who enjoy history, here is a short recap of social changes in Rome, 2 millenia ago (most historians focus on military and political facts, but I find the social aspects just as fascinating):

  • ~5 century BC: Roman civilization is a a strong patriarchy, fathers are liable for the actions of their wife and children, and have absolute authority over the family (including the power of life and death)
  • ~1 century BC: Roman civilization blossoms into the most powerful and advanced civilization in the world. Material wealth is astounding, citizens (i.e.: non slaves) do not need to work. They have running water, baths and import spices from thousands of miles away. The Romans enjoy the arts and philosophy; they know and appreciate democracy, commerce, science, human rights, animal rights, children rights and women become emancipated. No-fault divorce is enacted, and quickly becomes popular by the end of the century.
  • ~1-2 century AD: The family unit is destroyed. Men refuse to marry and the government tries to revive marriage with a “bachelor tax”, to no avail. Children are growing up without fathers, Roman women show little interest in raising their own children and frequently use nannies. The wealth and power of women grows very fast, while men become increasingly demotivated and engage in prostitution and vice. Prostitution and homosexuality become widespread.
  • ~3-4 century AD: A moral and demographic collapse takes place, Roman population declines due to below-replacement birth-rate. Vice and massive corruption are rampant, while the new-born Catholic Religion is gaining power (it becomes the religion of the Empire in 380 AD). There is extreme economic, political and military instability: there are 25 successive emperors in half a century (many end up assassinated), the Empire is ungovernable and on the brink of civil war.
  • ~5 century AD: The Empire is ruled by an elite of military men that use the Emperor as a puppet; due to massive debts and financial problems, the Empire cannot afford to hire foreign mercenaries to defend itself (Roman citizens have long ago being replaced by mercenaries in the army), and starts “selling” parts of the Empire in exchange for protection. Eventually, the mercenaries figure out that the “Emperor has no clothes”, and overrun and pillage the Empire.
  • humanity falls back into the Bronze Age (think: eating squirrel meat and living in a cave); 12 centuries of religious zilotry (The Great Inquisition, Crusades) and intellectual darkness follow: science, commerce, philosophy, human rights become unknown concepts until they are rediscovered again during the Age of Enlightenment in 17th century AD.

Regarding the Babylonian civilization (~2,000 BC), we have relatively few records, but we do know that they had a very advanced civilization because we found their legislative code written down on stone tablets (yes, they had laws and tribunals, and some of today’s commercial code can even be traced back to Babylonian law). They had child support laws (which seems to indicate that there was a family breakdown), and they collapsed presumably due to a “moral breakdown” figuratively represented in the Bible as the “Tower of Babel” (which was inspired by a real tower). Interesting and controversial anecdote: some claim that the Roman Catholic Religion is nothing more than a rewriting and adaptation of an ancient Babylonian religion!

You might say Roman cultural elites experienced Robin Hanson’s switch from a farmer to a forager society. How’d that turn out for everyone?

Let’s examine the parallels more closely.

~5 century BC Rome = ~1700 – 1920 America. The family unit is essentially “father knows best”, and slutting around by women is considered the height of shameful behavior, (as is cadding about by men). Monogamy is held up as the ideal arrangement without exception. (The “Wild West” might be an exception to the general rule of the day, as whoring and hell-raising were widespread in the frontier.) Lessers look up to their betters as exemplars of moral rectitude.

~1 century BC Rome = ~1920 – 1970 America. America is rising to the height of her power, a hyperpower being born. An economic and military power heretofore unseen in all recorded history. While the world digs out from under the rubble of consecutive wars and Communist pogroms, we have a battalion of aircraft carriers, a largely homogeneous population, and cheap housing for everyone willing to put in an honest day’s work. But the poison pill has been swallowed; the suffrage movement achieves its main goal, and the dark shroud of the equalist era is about to descend. In academic halls and classrooms, lessers are pedestalized, while betters are denigrated.

~1-2 century AD Rome = 1970-2000 America. The scourge of single momhood, free and easy divorce, child support laws, majority female colleges, DADT repealed, gay marriage, game, etc etc ad infinitum. In short, the ultimate expression of anti-discrimination, anti-received wisdom, individualist ideology, (ironically buttressed by the groupthink of diversity mongers.) Lessers ignore their betters, who in turn renege on their traditional responsibility to act as examples for the lessers.

~3-4 century AD Rome = 2000-2010 America. (You’ll notice America’s progression through the stages of empire is much faster than was Rome’s. This is the blessing — or curse — of high tech mass communication.) The native stock of America, (specifically, the betters of that stock), have stopped having kids. Vice and corruption are on the rise. (See: Chicago, CRA, Goldman Sachs, neocon lies, Enron, Madoff… I could go on.) Economic and political instability are the order of the day. While America’s presidents aren’t being assassinated, our elections have been nailbiters since 2000, and partisanship is at a fevered pitch. A reborn religion called Islam threatens to co-opt the sympathies of Western societies’ rootless rejects and masculinized women. Except for the thinnest upper class slice, betters now ape the habits of their lessers.

~5 century Rome = present day America. America is ruled by an elite of cognitive jackpot winners who use the President as a puppet. Massive debt and financial chicanery is practically enshrined in law. The army is less and less filled with the demographic slice of American citizens that used to make up its ranks. Mercenaries (UN peacekeepers, bribed warlords, arm-twisted allies, recent unassimilated immigrants, and the desperate, poor and out of shape) now make up a larger part of the tip of the spear that projects American power. America is in the process of slow-motion selling off of the Southwest to appease the millions of peasant illegals it cavalierly allowed to invade and settle in the country.

The Fall of Rome = ? America.

America is having her Tower of Babel moment, and the elites applaud it when they aren’t dithering over tax code arcana or the cultural impact of snarky late night TV hosts. These parallels with Rome’s fall should make you feel queasy about the future of this nation. But you’ll quickly push aside those depressing thoughts and switch on for another lightning round of Call of Duty, figuring it’s not your problem. Until it is. Do you feel lucky, punk?

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Posted in Culture, Goodbye America, Misandry | Comments Off

A Hedonistic Indulgence Of Links

Dec 26th, 2010 by

Naomi Wolf says porn causes men to get inured to sex with real women. There might be something to this theory if we stipulate that by “real women” Mzzz Wolf means “dumpy hausfraus”. One wonders if she is ready to tackle the logical extension of her theory that riding the cock carousel causes women to get inured to sex with betas. I’m betting not.

From the No Duh Files: women orgasm more freely with alpha males. Women don’t need to be consciously aware of their hypergamy; the Darwinian prime directive has ensured that the intensely pleasurable orgasms women experience with alpha males will motivate them to date up when the options are available.

Dennis Mangan has written an insightful post about “social hormesis”. It draws a parallel between the physical body and the body politic, and how the things that won’t kill you really do make you — your body and your country — stronger. Remove those mini-stressors with decadence and wealth, and the whole thing circles the drain. Must reading for those who are looking for the big picture as to why societies decline.

The sexual market experimentally confirmed.

School overcrowding is going to get much worse, thanks to the soft genocide committed upon this nation by the open borders crowd. What happens when there aren’t any Fairfax school systems left to maraud?

Still think an army of sexbots to service the late-stage forager redux societies’ male rejects is pure fantasy? Its arrival is sooner than you think.

Porn and Penetration. The Oscar Academy just rose up and took notice. It moved me.

Meet a modern American traitor.

It’s been asked why every man isn’t tall if women have such a strong preference for tall men. I propose that there is a check on runaway sexual selection for male height — namely, clumsiness. Watch this video and then this one. It’s pretty clear that the shorter guy wearing the white shoes (I think he’s the bassist) is a more rhythmic dancer than either of the two taller guys. His dance moves are more fluid, less jerky. Maybe height brings with it a fitness reducing cost? (Great YouTube comment to the second vid: “In a call center, somewhere in America, four friends started a band…”)

Think the hardcore neg can’t work? “You’re one of the ugliest girls in the club.”

On an unrelated note, I deleted a recent post because so few commenters seemed to have the requisite grown-up reading comprehension and emotional stability to digest it. The comments were 5% insightful, 45% trollish, and 50% incredibly stupid arguments made in bad faith from both sides. That’s a Chateau record bad noise to signal ratio. It made my eyes hurt, so it gave me supreme pleasure to trash it.

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Posted in Culture, Current Events, Ugly Truths | Comments Off

Have A Herbly Christmas!

Dec 24th, 2010 by

Reader writes:

This kid just put it up as his facebook picture for the world to share in disgust.  Who took this picture? His coonty girlfriend who is about a 4.5.  This kid in college was the definition of beta, a perpetual LJBF victim who seemed to relish in it. Merry Christmas man.

I understand there is a tiny minority of men who have a cuckold fetish. In the same vein, there are probably self-pity whores out there in circulation who wallow in their failure with women. We all know that one supreme beta who gleefully recounts in lurid detail his endless fuckups with women. He is a veritable self-deprecation machine. It is as if in the telling of his miserable tales he will find redemption and the holy cosmic karma will look kindly upon him soon with a bounty of plain jane pussy.

A Facebook Christmas photo is the internet equivalent of mailing a Christmas photo postcard to friends and family. Some people still do it the old-fashioned way. Christmas photo postcards are a window into the soul of the sender. You’d be surprised how cavalierly people reveal their inner torments when they’re mailing out Christmas photo postcards to friends. Singles will pose as… singles with ridiculously forced smiles and a pet dressed in royal garb. Married couples with kids will pose as… married couples with premature wrinkling who stopped having sex five years ago. And fun-loving unmarried couples without kids will not send a card at all. (But when they do, they send Dos Equis.)

There is a holiday card hierarchy, and it goes like this:

  • Not sending a Christmas card of any sort — alpha
  • Sending a parody of a Christmas photo postcard with you and your lover dressed in gaudy reindeer sweaters as you steady a ladder while she puts the star on the tree, and you are looking up her dress with a huge shit-eating grin on your face. Underneath the photo are the words “Nice beaver!” — alpha+
  • Sending a Christmas photo postcard of you and your girlfriend/wife — beta
  • Sending a Christmas photo postcard of you alone — lesser beta
  • Sending a Christmas photo postcard of you alone with your cat — greater omega
  • Sending a Christmas photo postcard of you alone with your cat that you have dressed in a Santa hat and beard — hard omega
  • Sending a Christmas photo postcard of you alone with your cat that you have dressed in a Santa hat and beard and the cat looks like he wants to LJBFB (Let’s Just Be Feeding Buddies) you — WAYSA?

I really hope none of my readers sent a non-jokey Christmas photo postcard to anyone this year. This blog has standards, people.

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Science Proves Me Right… Again

Dec 23rd, 2010 by

A while back, this Chateau post caused veins to bulge on the foreheads of haters. It was about instilling the dread of an impending breakup or loss of interest to promote a healthy relationship.

Women respond viscerally in their vagina area to unpredictability, mixed signals, danger, and drama in spite of their best efforts to convince themselves otherwise. Managing your relationship in such a way that she is left with a constant, gnawing feeling of impending doom will do more for your cause than all the Valentine’s Day cards and expertly performed tongue love in the world. Like it or not, the threat of a looming breakup, whether the facts justify it or not, will spin her into a paranoid estrogen-fueled tizzy, and she’ll spend every waking second thinking about you, thinking about the relationship, thinking about how to fix it. Her love for you will blossom under these conditions. Result: she works harder to please you.

The key for the man is to adopt a posture of blase emotional distance alternated with loving tenderness. Too much of either and she’ll run off.

Oh, how the haters swooned with indignation over my helpful advice. “You’re such a jokester”, said the disbelievers, somewhat nervously. “That’s a good way to end a relationship prematurely”, said the dating advice columnists. “It only works on girls with low self esteem”, said the shibboleth spouters.

Well, well, welly welly well… look what we have here!

Uncertainty Can Increase Romantic Attraction.

This research qualifies a social psychological truism: that people like others who like them (the reciprocity principle). College women viewed the Facebook profiles of four male students who had previously seen their profiles. They were told that the men (a) liked them a lot, (b) liked them only an average amount, or (c) liked them either a lot or an average amount (uncertain condition). Comparison of the first two conditions yielded results consistent with the reciprocity principle. Participants were more attracted to men who liked them a lot than to men who liked them an average amount. Results for the uncertain condition, however, were consistent with research on the pleasures of uncertainty. Participants in the uncertain condition were most attracted to the men-even more attracted than were participants who were told that the men liked them a lot. Uncertain participants reported thinking about the men the most, and this increased their attraction toward the men.

This study’s results confirm the “Dread” post to the letter, although I used slightly more… ornamental… language to get the point across. (Consider my methods a social experiment  — a sort of crisis and observation — designed to get under the skin, with exquisite pain amplification, of those predisposed to hate the message here, and to observe how many of you can handle the truth when it is stripped of all its sugarcoating.)

I don’t need the science to certify what I can already see with my own two eyes, but it’s nice to have it so that I can do the happy Snoopy dance and throw it in the faces of the usual tard crew. Weep those tears of unfathomable sadness, femcunts and nancyboys.

Naturally, some skirt-twirling teacups will chime in and attempt to muddy the waters by caviling about how men are susceptible to uncertainty game as well, while neglecting to mention the difference in degree between the sexes. Sure, men can fall for the Chateau patented dread psy ops, but they don’t fall for it nearly as often, or with the same intensity, as do women. Vulnerability to dread game is predominantly a female phenomenon.

Chateau Motto (posted at the gate):
Come for the truth, stay for the mindfucking of your enemies.

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Posted in Biomechanics is God, Psy Ops, Vanity | Comments Off

Thinking Like A Woman

Dec 22nd, 2010 by

I was at a house party noticing something I expect to see at these sorts of events: dudes not knowing what the fuck they are doing with women. (Proof that the practice of game is not making many inroads into general circulation.) Every single guy who was macking on a girl was telegraphing in the worst way possible his sheer delight to be speaking with her. Some of the gross errors of pickup judgement I observed:

  • Laser-like focus of his eyes on her eyes.
  • Leaning into her (in some cases the girl actually leaned back, like she was trying to escape his bad breath).
  • Constant smiling.
  • Rapid-fire talking.
  • Interrupting her to vociferously agree with whatever she was saying.
  • Too much laughing, and laughing too hard at ostensibly unfunny female jokes.
  • Telling long-winded stories.
  • Getting a laugh from her, and then repeating his brilliant joke for good measure.
  • Nervous body tics (rubbing of fingertips on glasses, shifting of feet, crossing and uncrossing of arms, scratching of ears and noses).
  • Relying too heavily on unsubtle sexual innuendo.
  • Constantly asking if she needed a new drink.
  • Excessive head nodding.
  • Asking a lot of questions.
  • Dutifully answering her questions.
  • Never touching her.

Now none of these men were socialy awkward losers. They were all normal men with well-rounded lives. Solid, salt of the earth dudes. The kind of guys women claim to want to date. On paper, they were catches. But as we all know, credentialist paper mentality is why so many men fail with women. Rip that paper up, because it is not what women really want; it is what they say they want to make their mothers happy. And because women’s own hindbrains are a mystery to even them.

The general impression one would get from watching all these nascent courtship dances is CHASING. The men were doing all the chasing.

Chase, chase, chase, chase, chase, chase, chase…… aaaallll the way home. Alone.

Men, pull it together. The way to seduce women is by redirecting them to CHASE YOU. You do this by exploiting their natural and universal female desire to your advantage. This is what game is all about. If you act like the men I saw at this party, you are running no game at all. And no game may as well be anti-game, because its effects on women are the same — bored, dry pussy. The only difference between zero game and being actively repulsive is the speed which her pussy snaps shut. The destination is the same.

Remember the fundamentals of game recently discussed here at the Chateau:

  1. Be aloof. (Amused mastery)
  2. Don’t be insecure. (Irrational self-confidence)
  3. Dehumanize and objectify women. (Do not put any pussy on a pedestal)

Re-read those fundamentals out loud. Taken together, what are they really saying?

“I am the prize. I do not seek the approval of any woman. She will, instead, want to seek my approval.”

Or, in simpler caveman language:

“She chases me.”

Yes, this thinking turns conventional wisdom on its head. Yes, it takes a huge dump on the evolutionarily derived instincts that govern the behavior of men and women. But as practitioners of the crimson arts, we are not here to abide conventional wisdom. Nor are we here to meekly march to the beat of our Darwinian impulses. We are here to learn how to seduce women… efficiently, completely, utterly.

The first step to getting a woman to chase you is to think like a woman. Only when you have put yourself into the mind of woman will the game that you need to seduce them begin to make any sense to you. Deep empathy — not the cheap bleeding heart kind but the kind that you struggle hard to attain so that it may redound to your maximum benefit — is the ultimate inner game that serves as the bedrock upon which the rest of the razzle-dazzle game will flow effortlessly.

In fact, this may be the best explanation of the meta-fundamental precept that underlies the above fundamentals:

Think like a woman.

Get in the mind of your adversary. (And make no mistake, men and women are, underneath the romantic tapestry, adversaries in the mating market. We have contradictory reproductive goals as nature designed.) Know what she needs to feel desire, what she loathes, how she will react before she does, and what her frame of mind is when men hit on her. Once you have successfully infiltrated one woman’s mind, you will have supremacy over all women’s minds.

When you think like a woman, you are imagining… no, you are accepting as a given… what it’s like to mercilessly judge the smallest details of a girl. What it’s like to be one foot in, one foot out with every girl you deign to talk to. What it’s like to cast a jaundiced eye at every girl before deciding she is worth more of your time. What it’s like to make silent demands of girls that you wouldn’t make of your male buddies. What it’s like to keep your options open until she has won you over. What it’s like to screen a girl, to qualify her, to shit test her, to tease her without worrying about giving offense, to refuse to backpedal from any offense given, to have an inner conversation with yourself *while she is talking to you* about whether she meets your ideal, to call her out in a good-natured manner on any of her bullshit, to seriously doubt her attractiveness until proven otherwise, to lean away from her when she is talking, to refrain from laughing if her joke falls flat, to notice her nervousness, to be laconic while she tries to impress you, to be comfortable with silences because it is her job to keep the conversation alive, to act noncommittal, to disagree with her occasionally, to glance furtively around the room every so often, to end conversations first, to happily hold court with other girls joining your conversation…

… in short, to make her dance to your tune.

Truth is, it is the tune she prefers to dance to above all others.

The day will come when you will have completed the merging of your mind with the neural network of womanhood. When that day comes — fully entwined, unable to return to  the one-dimensional, solipsistic man you once were — your game will be second nature. You will have transcended the dictates of crass materialist evolution and the straitjacket of social mores, and like magic the gates of vagina will open to you.

And if some numbnuts tells you it’s gay to think like a woman, you can ask him how many times he got laid talking about football and retrieving drinks for girls.

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Posted in Game, Psy Ops, The Id Monster, Tool Time | Comments Off

Going All In Or Cashing Out

Dec 20th, 2010 by

A reader laments:

I met this incredibly cute girl who really did it for me and we’ve been dating for four months. But lately I’ve felt less and less like having sex with her. She still looks great but my thoughts wander to hooking up with other women I see every day. I’ve even been having sex dreams about ex’s. Has this happened to you? I don’t want to break up with her because she might be the best I can get at the moment, but my horniness for her is disappearing.

This is the classic relationship conundrum that all men experience — whether to go all in for a shot at the big pot, or cash out of the dating market altogether and settle into a life of comfortable ennui with one’s respectable winnings. Two endogenous factors will influence a man to one or the other choice: the number and sensitivity of his dopamine receptors, and his ability to pick up equally hot or hotter girls within a reasonable time frame. Two exogenous factors will also exert influence over his decision: the hotness of his current girlfriend, and the number of available potential replacements within his milieu.

A thrill-seeking man with tight game and a track record of fulfilling his desires who is currently dating below his level in a region filled with single beautiful women will be very difficult to corral into a monogamous relationship by any but the hottest girls. Strong cultural stigma and peer pressure, coupled with a 9 or a 10 on his arm, are the only counterweights capable of restraining his impulses. Men like these types are the reason why women rush their newly-minted alpha hubbies out to the bland suburbs where he won’t be tempted by a daily farmer’s market of juicy, ripe fruit for the plucking, and where his energy and focus will be spent paying off the McMansion mortgage.

A tentative man with no game and few past lovers of any note who is currently dating at or above his level in a region bereft of single beautiful women will be loath to leave such an arrangement. Strong cultural stigma and peer pressure are not needed for him to remain monogamous, except when he gets dumped and needs a kick in the ass to begin meeting new women. Men like these types are happy to run to the suburbs, to get their wives away from the roving alpha males.

The four factors are important, but it is the man’s skill with women and the hotness of his girlfriend which will most determine his likelihood to stick with her for a long time. In fact, a girlfriend’s hotness alone is an amazingly accurate predictor of how quickly the average man will grow bored of sex with her (if he is honest with himself).

GF’s hotness          Time to boredom
0                         0 seconds
1                          0.1 seconds
2                          0.5 seconds
3                          1.1 seconds
4                          15 seconds
5                          5 minutes (this is very much an exponential plot)
6                          3 weeks
7                          6 months
8                          2 years
9                          5 years
10                        10 years to never

Ladies, do you have trouble pulling your man away from video games to share passionate intimacy with you? Might want to look in the mirror. The fault, dear Beatrice, lies not in the stars (or in self-medicating thoughts that his plumbing is failing), but in you.

Now growing bored with girlfriend sex is not the same as running off to find new pussy. Many men make the sensible and quite logical calculation, based on a confluence of the factors listed above, that the risk of a long dry spell in the field is not worth the loss of tepid schtupping on the regular, no matter how rote it has become. And many of these men go on to lead lives of quiet resignation that their days of lackluster sex will follow them to the grave. It is this fear of the hopeless, grinding dry spell that keeps many ugly couples together, and breeding their ugliness into future generations.

There is also a vicious feedback loop that exacerbates the tendency of successful womanizers to continue their pump and dump ways. If the average man who is used to no better than 5s or 6s hooks up with a 7, he will be happy for quite a while with her IF his self-conception remains static. Yet, what will we likely see? His ego will grow in lockstep with the improving looks of his conquests, thus spurring him to greater challenges. Men who see sudden improvements to their game and consequently, their meet to lay ratio, are usually the most imprudent at relationship management, because their egos carry them perpetually forward searching for hotter girls until their limits are reached. The worst LTR prospect for a woman is the man new to game; he is a world of pain waiting for her. The best LTR prospects for women would be quasi-virginal men who have not had the beta beaten into them, or established players who are happy with their record of accomplishment and ready to slow down.

So… to go all in or cash out? Remember, there is a real risk that years of loneliness or regret are your fate should you jettison your devoted but familiar lover for the excitement of fresh meat. That in mind, I can only offer these words of wisdom:

You will get bored of sex with every girl you date/love/marry. The only question is how soon.

No girl can completely satisfy you. As soon as you meet such a girl, your standards will shift upward. This is the nature of your humanity.

You should go all in at least once in your life. You’d be surprised what you can achieve under duress.

Relatedly, you should not use one big winning from going all in to justify going all in all the time. That is the newb’s curse, and it will vex you in time. Sometimes, you do find that great girl, and the upside of gaining fresher pussy isn’t worth the downside of losing loving pussy.

If your game is good, throw your chips around like a whale. But always be open to the possibility of a final hand.

If your game is really good….. MLTR!

God bless!

PS Sex dreams featuring exes are pretty common for men. We have a tendency to fondly remember with rose-colored glasses the best of our exes while conveniently shunting aside the shit that drove us crazy. Coupled with our harem drive, it’s no wonder our brains fire off nighttime visions of multiple lovers past and present. That is why men will rarely have “love dreams” of former girlfriends. Fuck, I can recall the vulvas of at least five exes with more clarity than I can their faces.

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