Feed on
Posts
Comments

An FDA official has been caught on video in a lie under oath making claims about the research being done by genetic testing companies. The FDA is seeking to institute onerous regulations that would ban you from accessing your OWN genetic information without a doctor’s authorization, based on some flimsy justification that the data constitute a “medical device”. This is, in a word, tyrannical.

Any lover of liberty should be appalled by this move by the FDA. They — and make no mistake, the FDA poobahs are firmly entrenched members of the ruling elite; true Phase III overlords — are trying to restrict your access to your genetic profile. Want to know what your genes say? Too bad, you now need a doctor’s say-so before you can see that information. Want to know if that kid is yours? Not until a doc signs off on the testing, which, unsurprisingly, could take quite a long time after the red tape is disentangled and the lawyers have been paid.

Why is the FDA attempting this run-around basic human liberties? A few explanations jump to mind.

  1. It’s the smell of money. The FDA wants to hold onto its power as reviewer and arbiter of medical information. Cheap and easy genetic testing by startup companies threatens their stranglehold over the industry, and over your right to know your own goddamned genetic profile.
  2. Paternity testing is going to be big business, and the FDA and docs want in on it. As Bill said in a comment over at Steve Sailer’s site, “It’s a backdoor attempt to squeeze more money out of family law/child support issues. If any guy could send in a cheek swab of himself and his putative child to ascertain paternity in an open market, why, that’s hundreds of millions of dollars per year that would otherwise be handled by “qualified medical professional[s]” who would be assured a steady stream of court-ordered tests.”
  3. The feminists are grumbling, and that’s all the excuse the power-hungry FDA needs to restrict access to one’s genetic information. As predicted right here at the Chateau, a feminist utopia is one in which quick and easy paternity testing is banned or made difficult to acquire. It’s happening right before our eyes.
  4. The government (and this includes the FDA) is deathly afraid of what we all might find out by our sequenced genomes. Oh, it’s not the release of any one individual’s genome that bothers them; it’s the… ahem… impolite patterns and interpretations that can be discerned from the open knowledge of millions of sequenced genomes. The implications of this should be obvious to anyone who understands the fear that motivates the deceitful actions of the tabula rasa crowd.

Email this guy Shuren at [email protected], the lead actor behind this push by the FDA to stifle knowledge. Tell him what you think of corrupt, lying bastards who try to suppress truth with the levers of the government.

You know, there was once a time when Americans could, with few exceptions, count on their government and those they elect to work for their interests, and not against them. Those days are long gone.

A reader emails:

I was recently having a conversation with the girl I’m currently dating. She’s the first girl with whom I’ve successfully fully integrated the Dark Arts of Alphadom. We somehow got on the subject of the amount people (males and females alike) demand from their partners, when she said something that took me aback:

“You’re not demanding at all!”

The reason this surprised me is everything in this relationship has been on my terms. I decide when, where and how long we’re going to hang out. I tell her she can’t do things with me and demand that she get me a snack after sex.

Why would her hamster make her say something like that?

P.S. Thanks to your advice, I got her a blowpop that said “You Rock!” for valentines day.

Another reader has seen the hamster behind the curtain, and he is amazed at its contortionist ability. What you have witnessed, good sir, is the halo effect in action. When you are gaming a girl successfully and she perceives your alphaness shining like a supernova, everything you do — even the stinky shits you take — will be imbued with a positive glow by her HIL (Hamster In Love). I have belched in girls’ ears and pressed my ass cheeks against them just in time to rip a vibrato fart and the best they could muster in reply was feigned indignation betrayed by fledgling smiles. In stark contrast, if any old beta farts in a girl’s face he will be chewed out and shown the door, or possibly kneed in the grapes. Similarly, if a beta tries to make demands of his girl, she will explode in self-righteous fury and feminist boilerplate.

But when you are loved for the charismatic alpha male you are, you can do no wrong. The bitter well from which those feminist harangues are drawn and that spill so easily from her lips when she is upbraiding beta males suddenly dries up when she is in the presence of a rare breed of man. It’s no coincidence that women regress to a child-like demeanor when they are with their lovers. The best of childhood is innocence, joy and carefree vivacity. That is what a good man does for a woman who loves him.

A woman who is constitutionally incapable of this girlhood regression is not worth loving.

The halo effect is only a partial explanation. When you are a dominant man leading your woman on the important, and sometimes not-so-important, issues, she will simply be unable to perceive your demands as anything other than sweet relief from the drone of betas buzzing around her every day and everywhere. To her mind, your demands, while objectively presumptive and patronizing, are freedom from her stultifying self-sufficiency, assertiveness and combativeness.

Do you think a normal, young, cute woman wants to be assertive? To take charge? To lead? To make the decisions? Of course not! When she does these things she feels less feminine. But when you make demands of her, she feels more feminine, more like a woman. She feels as if her purpose in life has been rediscovered, and the jagged edges of her daily grind have been smoothed and polished. This is what a woman means when she says “this just feels right for some reason.”

It’s almost Orwellian what happens to a WIL’s mental processes when she is in the company of her lover. Surrender is victory. Slavery is freedom. Submission is power. If you do not understand what I’m talking about (a reaction I expect from the feminist cunts and the inexperienced nancyboys) you will need to read the book upon which the Chateau of this blog gets its inspiration.

Men can’t comprehend why women respond so positively to dominating men. The typical man will bristle and his muscles will tense when another man attempts to assert his dominance over him. The severity of the bristling is in proportion to the closeness of the status differential. (Men tend to ignore or abide dominance assertions by men who are far above them in status, deciding it is best to fight for status rights where there is a chance of winning.)

This incomprehension with the flow of the female mind leads men to project their own sexual attraction mechanisms onto women, emphasizing things like youth and beauty to attract women and de-emphasizing things like dominance and authoritarianism. This is as good an explanaion as any for the mere existence of the mass of bumbling betas. But the men who have had their minds opened to the biomechanical matrix and their hearts opened to the transcendent possibilities for love are the men that women subconsciously prefer to shower with their gratitude — in the best way they know how.

A reader writes:

Along the lines of the scholarship for white men, I was going into a supermarket on Saturday with a 16 YO guy who is the son of a friend. On the way in, he said exactly what I was thinking when we were approached to buy Girl Scout Cookies: “I only support groups for boys.”

His comment warmed my heart. There’s hope for the up-and-coming generation.

Is anyone surprised at this? Spend forty or fifty years rigging the social, legal and cultural apparatus of a nation to favor the advancement of women and to disparage the accomplishments and strengths of men and it’s just natural that bad blood will begin to course throught the veins of the body politic. Spite and self-interest will supersede trust and cooperation. Good job, diversity mongers.

In related news, the latest equalist howler is a Congressional report concluding that the US military is too white and too male at the top. Left off the report were the following study conclusions:

– nursing is too female
– the NBA and NFL are too black
– surrogate motherhood is too female
– sperm donors are too male
– tyrants, despots and dictators are too male
– China is too Chinese
– white men are too white

I don’t think it’s a good thing for a nation’s esprit d’unite if boys decide it is self-abasing to support girls programs, especially ones delivering a product as tasty as Girl Scout cookies. But it is understandable, and totally predictable, when the blank slate leftie loonies have had the run of the place for half a century and have been wildly successful implanting their brain disease into every crevice of polite thought and public policy. At the rate the anti-white male whores are going, we will be at each other’s throats in no time. Perhaps this is what our ruling elites want, for in the chaos they will opportunistically enrich themselves… until the day the ropes are swinging from the lampposts.

I don’t blame the kid in the reader’s anecdote for scoffing at supporting a girls’ program. In this day and age, it’s the manly thing to do.

American women get a lot of shit, and justifiably so. Compared to the average women from other nations, the average American woman is:

– fat
– entitled
– unfeminine
sarcastic
– fat
– demanding
phony
– really effin fat
misogynistic
– man-hating
– divorce-happy
– career-focused
– goddamn that is one obese land whale
– self-absorbed
loud and obnoxious
self-deluded
attention whoring
manlike
sloppy and unkempt
skreechy, whiny, bitchy
– and, oh yeah, did I mention fat?

But this post is not about what we already know to be true about American women and their wretched character. Instead, this post is a celebration of the positive attribute of American women. And it’s a big one.

Dimitri writes in a comment to this post:

I see not americans women as the problem but these females in general.

I’m from russia and you americans men who think our women better and to make you more happy, this is not true. I think russians women are worse for wanting you for your money and yelling at you if you do not meet her wants for material things. Many russians here have little so these women demand much, maybe because they see what you americans have on tv. I hate russia women and would be glad to have a women like you americans have who do not flirt or offer sex so they can marry my money. Russias women are manipulative i think like any other women. I have seen many women of all different backgrounds who conspire to meet an end.

Even though Dimitri’s English is choppy, I think we all understand what he’s saying. And I agree with him. While my experiences with Russian women have been blessedly free of craven materialistic concerns, I have heard plenty of stories from other men attesting to the coldly calculating mindset that Russian women tend to bring to the dating market. Dimitri is in the thick of it with Russian women, and he is thus able to gain a clearer third party perspective of American women. And to him, an outsider, it looks as if American women are loose sluts who happily give it up on the basis of fleeting emotion instead of crass materialistic reasons. It’s easy to see how foreign men like Dimitri would find that American female attitude a breath of fresh air compared to their devious compatriot women.

American women are indeed more callow when deciding which men to fuck. Money and resources matter, of course, but not until well after she’s already given it up. The American woman has fully imbibed the feminism of her mothers and grandmothers and is happy to slut it up with a roundtable of men who make her emotions tingle with delight by running good game on her. Those American beta males who think they will enjoy a feast of freebie pussy in other countries are in for a rude awakening. You might just find that the easiest women were right in your American backyard.

So this post is a big high five to American women for being self-sufficient enough to overlook crass financial and values compatibility and for being all too willing to give it up just because a guy negged her once or twice and played hard to get.

To American women! Ladies, you go all the way right away, and for that, we salute you! Grab your trophy at the door.

When are women most like beta males? When they’re in love.

No, I’m not talking about the “he’s got acceptable college credentials and a good job and car” kind of ledger book love. I’m talking about the “he smells so great and I love the way he buttons his shirt from the bottom up and I can’t wait to jump into his arms at the end of the day” kind of love. The two kinds of love are very different, and often mutually exclusive.

When a woman falls into the second kind of love she begins to behave around her man much like a beta male does around women he is attracted to. The change is such a radical metamorphosis that it leads one to believe that love rewires a woman’s brain in a direction that makes her singularly vulnerable to the vicissitudes of romance. It’s no wonder then that women are very careful about doling out the innermost sanctum of their hearts to just any man. Even sluts, who let it be known aren’t exactly inclined to impart their pussies with much significance, are surprisingly circumspect about how quickly and easily they allow themselves to fall in love.

Here is a partial list of the similarities between the woman in love and the beta male:

Woman In Love (WIL) – goes out of her way to please her lover
Beta Male (BM) – goes out of his way to please his LJBF

WIL – small deviations from the relationship norm send her into a tizzy of self-doubt
BM – every little thing she says sends him into a tizzy of overanalysis

WIL – tears flow effortlessly from the slightest infraction
BM – self-hate flows effortlessly from the slightest infraction

WIL – quick to blame herself for relationship problems
BM – quick to blame women for dating problems

WIL – eager for constant stream of validation from her lover
BM – eager for constant stream of indicators of interest from women

WIL – asks “do you love me as much as I love you?”
BM – asks “do you like me?” (Or behaves in a way that subcommunicates asking this kind of question.)

WIL – pushes for validation by stating “sometimes I feel like you’re not all there with me.”
BM – pushes for validation by asking “are we dating?”

WIL – seeks to calm her self-doubt with continual positive appraisals of the relationship status
BM – seeks to calm his self-doubt with continual positive signs of emotional intimacy

WIL – calls at awkward times because she has sixth sense for when her man might be flirting with another woman
BM – calls at awkward times because he has no sense for when a woman doesn’t like him

WIL – gets really nervous if her lover calls her from a bar
BM – gets really nervous if his object of affection doesn’t return his calls

WIL – “Why is he working late? I’ll call him.”
BM – “Why hasn’t she replied to my text yet? I’ll send another.”

WIL – suffers from oneitis
BM – suffers from oneitis

WIL – quick to ignore her lover’s faults
BM – quick to ignore his date’s faults

WIL – feels like she’s walking on eggshells
BM – ditto

WIL – works harder and harder to please her lover the more the relationship fades
BM – works harder and harder to suck up to a date the more indifference she shows

WIL – will forgive him anything, even, sometimes, cheating
BM – will forgive her anything, even, sometimes, sexless manipulation

WIL – can’t wait to introduce him to everyone she knows
BM – can’t wait to be seen around town with her

WIL – super sensitive to the mildest criticism
BM – doubleplusditto

WIL – fawning
BM – cloying

WIL – sexually submissive
BM – emotionally submissive

WIL – masturbates quite frequently when lover is away
BM – masturbates quite frequently

WIL – needs reassurance that he loves her and will make a future with her
BM – needs reassurance that she sees him “in that way”

WIL – can cuddle for hours with her lover
BM – can cuddle for hours given half the chance

WIL – her lover is a jerk, but she thinks he’s a paragon of masculine virtue
BM – his date is a cocktease, but he thinks she’s a paragon of feminine virtue

WIL – frets over the minutest details of every word he says, every text or voicemail he sends, and every wink he throws
BM – was born fretting

WIL – will ignore or rationalize red flags
BM – will completely miss red flags

WIL – will audibly sigh with pleasure when thinking about her lover
BM – will audibly moan with discomfort when thinking about his performance on the last date

WIL – will cherish every hackneyed romantic word her lover whispers in her ear
BM – will cherish a date-ending peck on the cheek

WIL – will constantly qualify herself to her lover
BM – will constantly qualify himself to his date

WIL – will stop shit testing, or, even better, will begin to shit test *herself*
BM – will fail every shit test

WIL – will worry about every blemish, every single pound of weight gain, and every bad haircut because it might turn off her lover
BM – will worry about every word out of his mouth because it might turn off his date

WIL – will suffer greatly if her lover leaves her
BM – will suffer greatly if his date LJBFs him

What this list juxtaposes is the illuminative comparison between women in love and beta males. It is not a list of beta female traits. That is a different thing entirely. Beta females are defined mostly by their plain looks and their inability to convince high value men to commit to them.

What is interesting here is that the woman in love who behaves like a beta male might still be an alpha female on the dating market. This would be true if, for instance, she was a hot broad. Women who lapse into total servility and betatude with their lovers don’t usually carry that over into their dealings with other men. The woman in love might be a beta to her lover, but she’s still a stone cold bitch to you.

Correction: Women in love tend to be nicer in general to all men, because their need for love has been met. Her prime directive fulfilled, she can now ease up on the bitch shields and shit tests with men she has no intention of dating.

A woman in love, in short, suffers from a form of Stockholm Syndrome. She is held captive by her lover, and wouldn’t have it any other way.

If you want to hit on women through Facebook you’d better bring granite game. Facebook walls boost people’s self-esteems through the roof.

Facebook walls can have a positive influence on the self-esteem of college students, report social media researchers at Cornell.

This is probably because Facebook allows them to put their best face forward, says Jeffrey Hancock, associate professor of communication; users can choose what they reveal about themselves and filter anything that might reflect badly.

Feedback from friends posted publicly on people’s profiles also tend to be overwhelmingly positive, which can further boost self-esteem, said Hancock, who co-authored a paper published Feb. 24 in the journal Cyberpsychology, Behavior and Social Networking.

“Unlike a mirror, which reminds us of who we really are and may have a negative effect on self-esteem if that image does not match with our ideal, Facebook can show a positive version of ourselves,” Hancock said. “We’re not saying that it’s a deceptive version of self, but it’s a positive one.”

It may be one of the reasons why Facebook has 500 million users, who spend more than 700 billion minutes per month communicating with their friends via photos, links and status updates. [ed: you don’t say!] […]

“By providing multiple opportunities for selective self-presentation — through photos, personal details and witty comments — social-networking sites exemplify how modern technology sometimes forces us to reconsider previously understood psychological processes,” she added.

This explains Fat Girl Angle Shot. So you’ve got millions of women posting flattering pics of themselves and personal details that are uniformly positive on their FB walls, and you’ve got a bunch of cloying betas feeding the egos of these women even further with painstakingly crafted supportive comments, and you expect to make any headway with tepid game? That is a bitch shield too strong to breach.

This is one reason, among others, I advise against any sort of online game. The combination of self-selected profiles and nonstop beta adulation will boost a 5′s self-conception to a 7. Since 5s already have a self-conception of 6 thanks to the phenomenon of female upward dating momentum and the alpha cock carousel, you now have a double-strength bitch shield to bust instead of a single strength. Remember, if a 5 believes she’s a 7 (“But I *feel* like a 7!”) she is also going to believe that male 7s are not high enough status for her. Women are not truly happy unless they are dating men 0.5 to 2 sexual market value points higher than themselves. (Any higher and the discrepancy would be too large to sustain a relationship beyond a short fling or one night stand. Some women intuitively grasp this, which is why the scenario of ugly girls preemptively dumping significantly higher status boyfriends is not so rare. They’re sparing their feelings from the pain they know is coming.)

The reality, of course, is that the male 7 is two full points higher than the female 5. But the Facebook wall has meddled with the primal forces of nature. An unbridgeable chasm brought about by the advance of technology has severed the organically emergent hierarchy of the dating market where there is no escape from soul withering judgments made in mere seconds. Result: If you don’t know what you’re doing, or if you prefer the path of least resistance to sex and love, you’d be best off staying away from trying to court girls on Facebook.

There is a caveat for those men who like a challenge. While a girl with an overinflated ego is no picnic to pick up, it is possible to DHV yourself by doing the opposite of the 99% of betas who felch her anus on Facebook every day. A simple neg, edgy but not too insulting, to one of her posted wall photos can be the start of a beeyootiful romance. Perhaps an alpha witty comment such as “Ok, so what’d you do with the ten other pics of yourself that didn’t make the grade?”

Tiger Blood Game

How do you survive that?

Because I’m me. I’m different. I just have a different constitution, I have a different brain, I have a different heart… you know, I’ve got tiger blood, man.

A big thank you is owed super alpha Charlie Sheen for distracting us Americans from the debt sinkhole, multicult mass brain disease and Third Worldization of our country. Thanks bud!

What can be said about this guy? Is he a little crazy? Yep. A jerk? Yep. A drug addict? Probably. Alpha? You bet.

No one claimed alpha males had to be admirable (though personally I find much to admire about Sheen). The alpha male and the admirable man may often be the same, but not always. Women, saddled as their emotionally stunted gender is with an underdeveloped sense of justice and fairness, swoon for the alpha male, whether or not he is admirable. Sure, women will talk a big talk about the fine traits of admirable men, but when pussy comes to tingle, it’s double alpha all the way.

Sheen is an example of the highwire alpha extremis male who draws women into his orbit through intensity, unpredictability, charisma and rebelliousness. What he lacks in grace under pressure and amused mastery he makes up for with brazen candor and fearlessness, as well as a take-no-shit-from-anyone attitude. We could call this Tiger Blood Game.

There’s a lot to note in Sheen’s Tiger Blood Game that follows the tenets of this blog.

I’ve got magic and I’ve got poetry in my fingertips, and you know… this includes NAPS.

Cocky funny.

I’m an F-18, bro. I will destroy you in the air and I will deploy my ordnance to the ground.

I am on a drug. It’s called Charlie Sheen. It’s not available, because if you try it once, you will die.

Be interesting. If you’re going to strut, do it in a way that is funny and captivating.

Stuff just comes out. It’s sounds fun. It sounds different than all the garbage other people are spewing.

Demonstrating higher value via contrast with lower value people. This is similar to the technique of building comfort with a date by poking fun of a guy doing poorly on his date, or asking a girl “how many of these horndogs tonight slobbered all over you?”.

Are you apologizing for anything right now?

Well, I kind of set that one up nicely, didn’t I? Yeah, no, I’m… really, I’m upset about how something was interpreted. I feel terrible it, so I think we should just clear the air on that.

Excellent dodge. The alpha male never apologizes, particularly when he has nothing to apologize for and people are demanding the apology for their own status boosting reasons. (Really, is Chaim, or his shalom chorus, *that* upset that Sheen called him Chaim?)

Stay away from the crack… unless you can manage it socially.

Be a rebel, but be right. This statement may have raised the hackles of the anti-drug crusaders, but it’s true. Some people can handle it, some can’t. Charlie Sheen has money, fame and likely a genetic disposition that enables him to partake of the smiley snow without suffering too many adverse affects. I’ve known quite a few top-flight school MBA students who snorted on the regular, and they’re making money hand over fist.

Sheen did backpedal from this statement, which is understandable. The fuzz are probably on him, so he has to be circumspect now.

Did any of your celebrity friends [editor note: competitor alpha males] give you any advice?

Well, they didn’t give me any advice, and within that, there’s great advice… it was just love.

The alpha male never credits other alphas if it means a diminution in his own status. “Love” is a neutral term in this context which preserves Sheen’s alpha cred.

When you look back at the last time you used drugs, are you disgusted with yourself? Do you think ‘How could I have done that?’

No, no, I’m proud of what I’ve created. It was radical.

You’re proud of that party moment? [editor: classic shaming moment. Will Charlie bite?]

Of course, why wouldn’t I be? [editor: he does not. Bravo!]

Why would you be?

Because I expose people to magic, I expose them to something they’re never going to otherwise see in their normal, boring lives.

He’s bringing the viewer into his world. This is classic attraction phase material. It requires some chutzpah, to be sure, but pimps will tell you this type of “pot of gold at the end of the rainbow” game works wonders on women.

Your anger and your hate are coming off as erratic to people.

My passion, my passion.

The alpha male does not abide others’ frames. He reframes every interaction to his advantage.

Some people say you’re bipolar. That you’re on two ends of the extreme.

Wow, really? So what’s the cure? Medicine? Make me like them? Not gonna happen.

Excellent DHV.

Notice that the question that got Sheen genuinely angry was the reference to his father disapproving of his lifestyle. That is because to a super alpha like Charlie…

only his dad is the greater alpha.

You may not like Sheen, but he’s right about one thing — the most important thing, in fact: He’s taking hot young pornstars to the islands for fuckathons while you’re a depressing bore going home to ingrate kids and a fat wife yelling at you to mow the lawn.

As Sheen might say, “I’m bi-winning.” Truth is, he is.

Well, until the Hollywood honchos string him up like they did Mel Gibson.

Funny story. I was having dinner with friends — mostly an assortment of West Coast SWPLs — and the Sheen subject came up. One guess which Sheen foible got them the most exorcised. Hint: it wasn’t the pornstars, the drugs, the braggadocio, the craziness or the poor parenting.

Kay Hymowitz writes in her new book Manning Up:

SCENARIO 2: The Darwinian Playboy. These are the guys who plan to live alone and have a lot of sex with a lot of women. Though they might hang around for awhile, they will never, ever be that into you. They lard their deep mistrust of women with convenient bits of evolutionary psychology. Some saw fathers, uncles, brothers or friends chewed up and spit out by ex-wives who had cheated on them but still got the house, the kids, and half their ex’s income. Others probably never recovered from their own experience of betrayal; others are geeks who, having spent much of their twenties invisible to women, are also in a vengeful frame of mind. Some of them are devoted followers of Roissy, a philosophically sophisticated blogger who uses his multitudinous sexual encounters to analyze the amoral nature of female desire; think Hefner via Dostoyevsky. Women, no matter how determinedly enlightened and independent, are turned on by smart, dominant males — not bullies, not necessarily billionaires, mind you, but guys who know how to communicate the right mix of self-confidence, aloofness, and charisma. Love and marriage, concludes Roissy, are just “pretty lies.” “Marriage is no escape from the sexual market and the possibility that you may be outbid by a competitor with higher value,” he writes. “No matter how much you love your kids, if a divorce happens (50% chance, 70+% chance the wife initiates it) you are going to be paying child support for the new lingerie your ex-wife buys to sexually please her blogger lover. Life is a parade of worry and high wire risk, of love and loneliness, and no socially manufactured arrangement exists to insulate you from your dreaded fears. To imagine otherwise is beta.”

The quote she attributes to this blog is from this post. I notice she decided not to quote more pertinent passages from that post, which would add context and shore up the argument presented against thinking marriage is a fail-safe way to lock a girl in.

Leaving aside for the moment the fact that there are a few writers contributing to the Chateau (gotta give shout outs where due), Hymowitz misunderstands (I’m generously interpreting her motives here) some of the beliefs held by the writers of this blog.

For instance, no Chateau author claimed that love is a “pretty lie”. In fact, just the opposite has been written: that love is the only thing in this world that isn’t bullshit. So right there, that small correction removes a big plank of her smear against “Darwinian (or Roissyan) Playboys” as merely heartless pump and dumpers with a chip on their shoulders against women. I mean, how can you demonize a Darwinian playboy who grasps the true nature of female sexual desire and the raw deal that is Western institutional marriage, but who also genuinely loves women and loves being in love with women? Makes it a bit more difficult, eh Kay? But hey, when confronted by a worldview that shakes one’s soul to the core, the urge to construct easily knocked down strawmen is a universal human cognitive deficiency.

Like most feminists and quasi-feminists (I include family values advocates and relationship complementarity libertardians in this bunch), Hymowitz’s hatred of evolutionary psychology is evident, and no wonder — it really does explain, rather elegantly, the behavior of men and women in the sexual marketplace. That women’s behavior can be so analyzed means that women’s actions can be predicted, and subsequently that men with this knowledge can tailor their behavior to get the most out of their interactions with women. Knowledge is a powerful thing, and knowing what’s up does, in fact, shift the balance of sexual power in men’s direction by removing the inscrutability and whimsy that has been the prerogative of women since time immemorial. Game means that it is no longer simply a matter of dumb luck when men get sex and love. Game, contrary to Hymowitz’s sneering dismissal, can increase the amount of love in the world by giving women more of what they desire in men.

Hymowitz, of course, can’t help but slander “Darwinian playboys” as wounded exes, geeks and mistrustful players. Do some men who learn about game fall into one or more of the above categories? Sure. But you could say the same for any group of men following anything. A proportion of white knighters and manginas who would agree with Hymowitz are emo geeks and limp-wristed hipsters who have to beg for table scraps from women. They sublimate their ineffectual effeteness into rage against “the Man”. You could call it a strategy. Mewling sycophantic betas occasionally hook pity fucks with sheer persistence and an effort to overwhelm their prey with egregious displays of phony sympathy. There are “real men” out there who suffered at the hands of ex-wives, or are bitter about having to return home every night to a waddling land beast, who would also balk at the concept of game.

The fact is that the majority of men who learn and use game are well-adjusted and successful in life, and simply want the tools to meet, seduce and bring more pleasure to beautiful women, or to meet and seduce that one perfect woman, fall in love with her, and minimize the chance that infidelity will tear them apart. Many men learn game simply to avoid getting dumped by women they love, and this includes wives swinging the divorce card like a sword of Damocles over their husbands’ necks. Is Kay prepared to say these goals aren’t noble, or aren’t in men’s interests? If not, why not? Kay, if you’re reading, you will be required to frame your answer without insufferable empty-headed references to honor or duty.

Speaking of shaming, Hymowitz has this to say about the supposed fate of the playboy:

Safe prediction: By his mid-40s, the Playboy is doing a comb-over for his balding head and wearing leather jackets to cover up his gut when he goes to bars to pick up women. Despite the fact that he tends to blather on about great bands of the 1990s, there are a few who are willing to sleep with him. Eventually, he’ll find himself seeing one of them and deciding to move in with her. He becomes a stepdad to her kids and begins to dislike her ex as much as she does. He’s not especially happy with his arrangement — he remembers the good old days when women appeared to him like an enormous, all-you-can-eat buffet — but now what’s the alternative?

Let your hate flag fly, Kay! It’s good fun, isn’t it? Yes, yes it is. Welcome to the abyss. You may now check your moral high ground at the door. You’ve no need for it in the hell matrix.

I’ve got news for ya, Kay. All those things happen to most people — men and women — whether they’re married or not. And have you never heard of long term relationships? I’m a big proponent of them, occasionally spiced with the varied fling. All the presumed benefits of marriage with none of the costs. As for single moms… well, if they’re attractive and slender, they’re good for a romp in the hay. Just don’t make the mistake of marrying them or spending too much time with their kids. Keep it short and simple. I recommend two to three months of fun. You don’t want the law to presume you the legal father.

Those balding, paunchy single men are still going to ignore you, Kay, for the hotter younger tighter competition. It’s nature. That some of them without any game and limited options may settle down with a middle-aged hag doesn’t mean they’re gonna like it. Twue wuv! The alternative is for these men to keep in shape and learn game. A man’s options in the sexual market are wide open compared to the options available to middle-aged women. And that’s what really chafes your hide, right, Kay?

***

Glenn Reynolds takes a stab at explaining why he links to this blog (via Vox Popoli), and comes up a bit short.

The “game” stuff pretty much is for douchebags, or at least the otherwise hopeless. It involves taking the sophisticated approach that someone with actual interpersonal skills might employ, and boiling it down to a set of simplified rules that produce a sort of cartoon version — much as you might boil down social interactions into rules for an autistic person; the result is better than nothing, but not the real thing. But although it’s a cartoon — and focused largely on picking up women in bars, a fairly limited and artificial environment to begin with — the simplification process does reveal things that might otherwise be obscured or ignored. And it’s interesting to see some of these insights going mainstream. (The other thing you learn from perusing some of these sites is just how much some men need the help. And I’m not sorry to see them get it.)

First, everyone needs to stop throwing around the word douchebag so lazily and haphazardly. Douchebags aren’t hopeless with women. Just the opposite. Douchebags are pricks and assholes — usually gauche and lower class — who inexplicably do well with women. (Well, inexplicable to anyone who isn’t a reader of the Chateau. We here know the reason why chicks dig jerks.) Think of hotchickswithdouchebags.com, or some of the cast of Jersey Shore.

Most douchebags are naturals with women, probably because they aren’t smart enough to question their unwavering self-confidence. In fact, the best naturals with women mostly occupy the left hand side of the bell curve. The truly dangerous skirt chasers are the naturals with smarts. There aren’t many of them, but they do exist. They are unstoppable forces of nature, owing partly to their concomitant suite of dark triad traits.

Second, game isn’t cartoony at all. It’s actually quite psychologically advanced, which is why less intelligent men have problems understanding it, let alone applying it to real life. Some of the negs and routines are cartoony, but that’s a crutch for newbies who need something simple to start off with. As you get better at game, the cartoonish aspects merge and disappear into your core personality, so that the game you becomes indistinguishable from the real you. And that is the ultimate goal — to seduce without forethought. To live as a seducer in every facet of life, sexual or otherwise.

Third, game isn’t just about picking up women at bars. For fuck’s sake, this is a lazy, half-brained meme that needs to die already. The reality just doesn’t bear it out. My last three girlfriends were met, respectively, on the sidewalk, at a convention and during a bike race. That’s the beauty of game; it’s suited for every environment. There is no environmental limitation on female psychology. Women don’t desire one kind of men in bars and another kind of men at the mall. There is nothing magical about the bar that makes game work. It works everywhere.

The bar meme is silly in another way. The bar is no different in actuality than many other venues for meeting the opposite sex. Online dating, for instance, is nothing but a dry bar. (Unless you like to drink while staring at a computer screen in your gloomily lit bedroom.) Same thing for the park. You meet a woman walking her cat, and you hit it off, using the same or similar techniques you use on women in bars. The only difference is that neither one of you is clutching a drink close to your chest for comfort.

And how “limited” is the bar experience anyhow? It’s dangerous to get into sexual relationships with co-workers (thanks for nothing, feminists) and most people in the cities at least don’t go to church or temple. So the bar has become the go-to meeting place for people with a lick of social savvy who prefer face to face contact over ASCII courting. This is the reality of early 21st century Mexamerica. It’s either the bar or OkCupid for many people.

Game, in fact, can *open* new venues in which to pursue women. When you have the skillset to meet and attract women, you can meet them anywhere. No playground becomes off-limits. Go to the bar? Sure, after I’ve chatted up the girl at the Trader Joes.

A lot of people new to the science and art of game (like, presumably, Instapundit), tend to equate game with the bar and club scene. That’s a misconception. Bars are where a lot of men run game because *that’s where the greatest concentration of young, single women are*. It has nothing to do with the kinds of women who go to bars or the supposed artificiality of bars. It’s simply an opportunity calculation based on target demographic. Game itself is a universal tool of seduction, and shines in and out of bars. If anything, game tends to work better in places other than bars, where girls aren’t expecting to get hit on. Unpredictability is alpha, after all.

Reader “Marshy” is becoming the Chateau’s “text guy”. He sent in this example:

A recent conversation from my FB below, names changed to protect the innocent-

Marshy: I would totally fuck you in that wig 😛

Girlie: I look forward to it.

Marshy: I get back in a week, tell your boyfriend to keep you warmed up for me till I get back.

Girlie: I think “he” is out of batteries 🙁

Marshy: c=====3

Girlie: 🙂

Marshy: c===============3

Girlie: Wow, someone needs to cum. I’m going to suck you off so awesome when you get back

Marshy: hang in there, lotsa cocka soon

Witty banter is for beginners. Be the caveman on 4chan. He’s real, he says things that amuse him. He farts in bed and hogs the blanket, he makes her feel virtuous and mature by comparison. She lubs him for it.

Long live “lotsa cocka”.

I like the haphazard attention to punctuation. It’s the little details that matter.

Some of you are probably wondering what’s so special about cavemanning a fuckbuddy. She’s already in his sexual orbit. (Men have a lovers orbit, women have a eunuchs orbit.) She’s not going to go anywhere, you may say.

Not so fast. That kind of thinking leads to complacency, and eventually to getting dumped. Game never rests, because female hypergamy never rests, that is until she has fattened up or aged out of options. I’ve witnessed friends lose fuckbuddies because they became romantically enamored with them, ditching the dirty talk for flowers and soft mewlings of love.

Fuckbuddies are an unusual breed of women. Most women, despite what braggadocio “gurus” say, are not down with fuckbuddy status. Now it is possible to string along a woman in a de facto FB zone, but this requires some deft prevarication and stalling. That is advanced game for those men already capable of getting laid with one girl at a time. The other option is to be totally candid with women and tell them they will be infrequent sexual flings, and nothing more. Vanishingly few women will agree to such an arrangement, no matter how much alpha indifference you project.

Generally, high T women — think tomboys, lawyers, Irish maids, strippers, cougars and women with leathery skin, small tits, hairy ass cracks or acne — are more amenable to openly acknowledged FB arrangements. Some of these high T women can be attractive enough to boff, and boy can they fuck like lionesses. The only cuddling you’ll be doing is between her beef drapes.

Marshy is right about being an animal. Women love untamed men, because they love having something to bitch about. A bitching-free life is a boring, drama-free life to a woman, and no woman, no matter how grounded, can survive long without the fever for a flavor of a tingle.

Soul of a woman was created from cats.

Cats are funny. If you’re around a cat, it won’t deign to give you more than a passing token of affection, usually around dinner time. But if you leave it alone for a couple of days, upon return it will rush up to you, urgently meowing and bumping its head into your leg, starved for affection. It will then curl up in your lap, thankful you are back home, and purr contentedly until a glisten of cat saliva forms on its mouth. Then, once a certain amount of time has passed in your lap, (as determined by whatever cat brain mechanism is at work), the cat will decide it has had its fill of your love and promptly jump off to saunter out of the room with the closest approximation to a haughty look a cat can muster. If you attempt to follow it for more petting, it will harshly meow and maybe even take a swipe at you.

The cat wants your love on its terms. It does not value your affection freely given. It is most loveable when it has been psychologically mindfucked to believe it was on the verge of being abandoned. Just like women.

This inscrutability and natural aloofness perfectly explains the appeal of cats to women, and why they identify so strongly with the hellforged beasts. They see in them reflections of their gender’s psychological traits, and, being cognitively biased to project onto an idealized man that which comprises their own contours of sexual desire, thus anthropomorphize the cat into the alpha male lover they wish was courting them.

I like cats. They’re cute, fluffy stress balls. Give ‘em a squeeze round the middle and feel your stress melt away. But dogs make better pets. Dog owners tend to be earthy and grounded. Cat owners tend to be drama-prone and concerned with image.

« Newer Posts - Older Posts »

Also reachable over Tor: roissyrwpgxawb3etwznvay4eelbws4lkdtr4tt2r7wxb6adq6pajtqd.onion