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The Forager/Farmer Thesis Is Wrong

Oct 18th, 2010 by

Robin Hanson has been beating the drum on his liberaltarian wet dream known as the forager/farmer thesis in a series of posts. Basically, “liberal” values and lifestyle are a reflection of humanity’s ancient forager (hunter-gatherer) ways, while “conservative”, or traditional, values and lifestyle are emergent properties of our relatively more recent 10,000 year old farmer (agricultural) heritage. Modern foragers in the form of cafe-loitering SWPLs sipping dragonwell tea and reading Dan Savage columns are essentially freeriding on the industrial and moral substrates that were created by rules-following and hierarchical farmer ancestors. Thanks to their comfy livings and safe environments, elite cosmopolitan liberals in Western societies are returning to the values and lifestyles of their distant forager forebears, while modern traditionalists hew to more rigid codes of conduct and warn them (in so many words) that all foraging and no farming makes Jack a weak boy. (You can see where this is heading.)

If you buy Hanson’s thesis, this neatly explains blue state vs red state, Obama vs Bush, open borders nuts vs immigration realists, and Apple vs Windows.

Hanson relies for much of his speculative evidence on the Sex At Dawn book, which I promiscuously manhandled here. But there’s too much wrong with the claims made by that book to sufficiently lend support to the Forager vs Farmer (i.e., liberal vs conservative) thesis of clashing values and lifestyles.

For instance, Hanson and Ryan elide the force of jealousy in shaping human sexual dynamics. If we were built for polyamory as Ryan claims, or free love promiscuity as Hanson says, then jealousy would not have evolved to the extent it did (among Euro-descended people at least) to become a powerfully ingrained emotional hindbrain response to infidelity or suspicions of cheating. Both men and women experience jealousy, though men seem to react more violently when in its throes, (as would be predicted by a “farmer” reading of sociosexuality, since men stand more to lose by a cheating lover).

In addition, just about every polyamorous, free love utopia/forager commune that has been tried in historical record has utterly failed, some of them spectacularly. (It’s no coincidence that most dedicated polyamorists are androgynous, middle-aged frumps.)

Hanson and Ryan claim foragers are/were nonviolent compared to farmers. But from everything I’ve read on the matter, that is wrong as well: modern hunter-gatherers have impressive levels of tribal violence, mostly of the raiding and randomly savage variety. Farmers are also capable of violence, but when they do it the violence is coordinated and planned; the random individual violence that typifies forager society isn’t a steady state feature of farmer existence. I’m not going to dig around for relevant links, so I’ll throw it open to the commenters to do the dirty work.

Finally, a big point of Hanson’s repackaged thesis is that “rich and safe” modern foragers — implicitly the intellectual and social liberal elites of Western society — pursue and advocate a promiscuous lifestyle. Except the data show that isn’t necessarily true. Higher IQ men place greater value on monogamy and sexual exclusivity and are less likely to cheat than lower IQ men.

There are too many holes in this tidy farmer/forager outlook to take it as anything more than United States of Canada porn for self-satisfied cosmopolitan lefties to jack their head hamsters off to. And I say this as someone who lives to the fullest the modern, promiscuous forager lifestyle. I know its personal appeal, and its immolating potential for the wider society.

Posted in Culture, Self-aggrandizement, The Big City Life, The Pleasure Principle | 63 Comments »

Review Of A Roosh Night Game Workshop

Oct 15th, 2010 by

A Chateau rep has had an opportunity to observe Roosh run a night game workshop with a student.

The workshop was at a popular U St bar. Roosh was wearing an earpiece, listening and watching a student engage with three girls. I asked if he could hear the student with all the bar noise, and he said he could hear some of their conversation, but sending instructions through the incessant bar noise was more hit and miss. Surprisingly, most girls did not notice the ear piece wire dangling along the back of Roosh’s neck. Perhaps they mistook it for a 1980s-style rattail.

The crowd was wall to wall, girls everywhere. And while plenty of men were there, they didn’t pose much of a competitive nuisance. This was a perfect night game student’s field of battle. Roosh and I kept an eye on his student, noting his body language while Roosh jotted notes down in a small notepad. Occasionally, girls would walk by and ask him about the pad he was writing on, and he would dismiss them with a sarcastic non-sequitur, which of course made the girls more intrigued. As we agreed later, the notepad and pen make a fantastic game prop.

The student for his part was fairly competent at generating friendly rapport with the girls, but needed work on projecting more of an alpha vibe through his body stance, and remembering to touch the girls during his interactions. Roosh had supplied him with plenty of easily-delivered openers, (they weren’t cheesy like “who lies more”; you could see an average Joe saying these lines without wincing), and conversation-building discussion threads, which the student used liberally. I arrived later, so I didn’t see all the sets the student opened, but he approached at least four different women during the time I was there. None of the women blew him out; whatever he was opening with was clearly making an immediate positive impression.

Sometimes the student’s sets went very well, and he wouldn’t return to Roosh for twenty minutes. When he did return, Roosh would give him a quick rundown and some pointers for the next set. The student seemed pretty happy to be there.

A big positive is that there were no high pressure tactics. I liked that Roosh was not barking orders at the student to open set after set. The vibe was decidedly chill and relaxed. There was encouragement to be sure, but nothing so intense that it would make a social introvert burn out on his first night. In contrast, I once witnessed, by coincidence, a game instructor (it was obvious he was teaching a couple of guys) pushing his students to approach as many girls in a night as humanly possible to get over any lingering anxiety. Every time a girl would walk by, the instructor would say “Ok, go! Now!” I find that method counterproductive at best and creepy at worst. The pickup robot frantically racing from one girl to the next can’t help but feel a little “off”. As Roosh mentioned to me, most of his students are eager to learn and don’t need much prodding from him to approach. He simply points out to the students girls in the vicinity and gives them a suitable opening gambit to use, depending on the environment and what the girls may be doing at the time.

Roosh sent me an excerpt of a post-workshop Student Report for one of his Day Game students. I read it and was impressed by the level of detail. It’s no wonder some of the students think the report is the best part of the workshop . It was chock full of analysis and constructive criticism about the student’s approaches. Example:

No. 13
Venue: Whole Foods
Length: 15 seconds
Description: You asked a whole bunch of food questions instead of rambling about food. Pepper your conversation with regular questions about the opening topic. The approach shouldn’t only be question-asking.

[…]

You’re asking too many personal questions. Most of your approaches were interviews instead of conversations. Towards the end of the workshop you changed the content of the questions to things about books or foods, but it was still too many. Questions kill the energy of the interaction. You want something that flows instead of halts every ten seconds. In fact, you can do exercises at home where you talk about objects as long as you can. Remember when I talked about the socks at H&M for a couple minutes while asking only one or two questions? It’s better to give statements and observations then to ask (only tight ramble can save approaches, not questions). Plus the more questions you ask, the more she’ll think you’re hitting on her.

I suppose you’d have to have a thick skin to read about your flaws, but that’s a necessary step to success with women. The thin-skinned are not going to handle rejection from women very well if they can’t take helpful criticism from a man.

I also got to read some of the Day and Night Game Workshop Manual Version 2.0. It reads like a revved-up pocket guide to game. The lines and conversation builders are highly accessible to the average man. You can see yourself saying these things without feeling like a nerd or a clown.

Roosh is offering a special to Chateau readers who want to take his day and/or night game workshops. (Here is an update post on his workshops.) Email Roosh at the email address provided in his Day and Night Game post and say the Chateau sent you. Roosh will give you a $20 discount.

If you do end up taking the workshop (or any other workshop), let me know how it goes. Contact me through the email on the About page.

Posted in Game | 113 Comments »

Reader Mailbag: Poke Rape Edition

Oct 14th, 2010 by

Email #1:

Short and sweet

What is a good response to a girls question of

“What is your biggest fantasy”

Seems like saying something crazy and different would be a good response, right?

The chick wants to know if her fantasies are compatible with your fantasies. Three ways to tackle this. Smolderingly serious, jokingly over-the-top, or intriguingly evasive.

Serious answer: “To scale the heights of Kilimanjaro during the autumnal equinox, and to gaze down at the herds of feminists stampeding across the veldt.”

Jokey answer: “You, me, your mom, Cool HHWip.”

Evasive answer: “We’ll see.”

Use the serious answer on girls you know something about, so that you can tailor your response. Use the jokey answer on attention whores and party girls. Use the evasive answer on girls who are already into you.

References to breastal motorboating, public sex or blumpkins should be avoided.

Email #2:

Dear Chateau,

This Asian chick I’ve been hooking up with for the past month told me at lunch (I’m in highschool) that my friend poke raped her. I asked her to define rape, and she said that she might be exagerrating and that he actually poked her in the boob. My friend defended himself (although a bit in jest) saying that he merely poked her in the side. This prompted her to do an exaggeration demonstration as she poked him in the chest (boob).

I looked at him seriously for a few seconds, and when he held out his fist to fist bump, I waited a few seconds before fist bumping him.

I don’t really care about if anything happened, but I am curious as to why you think a girl would do this (oi! he raped me)? Is she trying to tell me that some one else is interested in her?

(The relationship we have is unofficial. There are a few other things that may be in play that I don’t know about, but they are unimportant to me. This relationship is a learning one.)

W

Poke rape? Wow, high school has really gotten lame since I was there. What happened to heavy makeouts in the stairwell in between classes?

The tempestuous geisha is trying to make you jealous. She wants to see some sign of commitment from you in the form of defending her virtue from male interlopers. Ignore her sly provocations. Play with her expectations. Ask if her boob needs to go to rape counseling. Ask her to finger the suspect (ha). And don’t fistbump your buddy. He encroached on your territory.

Email #3:

Hello, first I would like to thank you for your wonderful blog, it has really helped turn my life around, so feel free to include your answer to this on your site.

I have a problem with erectile dysfunction, and it is really freaking me out as I am only a 24 year old man and am in otherwise excellent physical condition.  The problem was I didn’t know I had it until recently.  I’ve always been a very quiet type guy, ie the nice guy, and until the past year when I started reading your blog I have had almost no success with women.

I’ve been working very hard to turn my life around, and a couple nights ago I was finally able to get a very attractive 21 year old foreign girl into bed with me, and then it happened.  When we were kissing, I was rock hard, I was hard when she was sucking my dick, but when I penetrated my boner was killed almost immediately.  I can’t stress enough how embarrassing this was for me and I cant imagine what was going through her head.

I wonder if  the fact that it had been such a long time that I’ve been with a woman (several years) might have played a role since you just cant duplicate what it feels like to fuck a girl, but I find it very unnerving that I wasn’t able to keep an erection for a girl that I found very attractive.

I tried to play it off like she wasn’t doing enough to stimulate me, and she ended up staying the night and sucking me off again in the morning before she left, but I feel like I’ve ruined this situation.  My immediate plan is to see a doctor and get a prescription for viagra(that shit is ridiculously expensive), but I’m wondering if there’s anything that I can do in the mean time to save face with her.

One side of me wants to tell her that I just don’t find her very attractive but I was trying to make it work because she has a great personality and end the relationship there, while the other side get the medication and try to work it out since I really do like her personality.  I feel like she will just disgust me if I were to tell her the truth, but I could be wrong.

Thoughts?

I wish I could give you firsthand knowledge here to help you over your problem, but I’ve rarely underperformed. Instead, I’ll have to engage in some speculation with a layman’s understanding of the relevant medical science.

You’re 24, little to no previous sexual experience with women, and you’ve got a foreign girl in bed thanks to what you’ve learned reading this blog. I’m 90% sure it’s nerves, dude. Nothing physically wrong with you. It happens to every man occasionally. Usually it happens when you’re bumbling with the condom, or the phone rings and you’re distracted by the possibility that it’s your other girlfriend calling. No biggie; just tell the chick you need to rest for a minute and let her run her fingers over you while you put your arms behind your head and listen to music. Your boner will be back in no time.

One thing you didn’t mention was whether you were wearing a condom. Very tight and thick condoms can kill boners dead. Try ultra-thins. If she’s up for it, play just the raw dog tip. Don’t penetrate right away; build tension, tap her vulva with your dick head, go in an inch and pull out, etc. Eat celery, lots of it. My loads get incredibly viscous and milky-white after five stalks of celery. Take an l-arginine supplement, 500mg, three or four pills per day. Lift heavy weights. Get your testosterone level and your triglycerides checked by a doc. Don’t bother with Viagra until you’ve tried everything else.

Here’s a little trick I’ve learned that really amps up sexual pleasure and will cement your boner: do her from behind in front of a wall-length mirror, but stand profile (her facing to the side) so that you can watch your dick in the mirror appear and disappear in between her ass cheeks. This position will fill your testes with the juice of the gods and your dick with adamantium.

Oh, and don’t push the girl away. There isn’t enough sweet lovemaking in the world. Don’t insinuate she is at fault for not stimulating you enough. Your reaction to her wasn’t good. Just play it cool and carefree and she’ll fall into your arms as soon as you’re ready.

Email #4:

Can you please do a write up on Alpha Halloween costumes?

See here, here and here for what qualifies as examples of alpha, beta and omega GHEY costumes. As for what’s in this year, I read that sexy Sesame Street costumes are going to be big. If you’re creative, you could try a mash-up, like a Call of Duty Cookie Monster strapped up with belts of ammo and an assault rifle, and a bunch of cookie notches on the rifle barrel. Otherwise, stick with the tried and true pickup artist costumes: Zorro, Indiana Jones, James Bond (a suit always looks good on a man, particularly on a night when few other men will be wearing that), Jack Sparrow, gladiator (but only if you’ve got the body)… basically any costume that a) is manly and/or sexy and b) evokes power.

Last year, I saw a dude dressed as an infant, wearing a huge diaper, bib and bonnet and nothing else, while holding a rattler. It looked fucking ridiculous and creepy, yet the chicks swarmed around him, laughing and smiling. His trick? He had a bodybuilder physique. Contrast is king!

Email #5:

How do you deal with a narcissistic insecure woman who has been catered to and spoilt by former partners. she behaves selfishly and thinks the world revolves around her.

Three simple steps:

1. Don’t flatter her. Boosting her self-image will kill her attraction.
2. Neg! These girls are tailor-made for multiple negs. Also, employ tactical backturns at will.
3. Make her jealous. She will respond very well to denied attention and competition from other women.

Girls such as you describe can make surprisingly good girlfriends, *if* you know how to train them. A narcissislut has spent her life being chased by men; flip the script and she will explode with years of pent-up desire. Her gratitude will be your nut.

Email #6:

What does it mean when a girl has a pic of her kissing another guy as her profile pic on Facebook. She hasn’t indicated if she is in a relationship or not.

She initiated Facebook id exchange with me.

Is this a way of the girl telling “Look at me, I am desirable! Kiss my feet!”

She has a very pretty face and good sense of fashion but she is slightly chubby/thick and that lowers her points to about 7-8/10 in my eyes.

Thoughts?

How is she kissing him? On the cheek with eyes open, or full on the lips with eyes closed? The difference matters if you’re gauging her availability. Regardless, I’d avoid investing any time or energy into seducing such an attention whore. The “look at me!” Facebook profile kiss is a neon sign pointing the way to unending drama, single momhood, divorce and self-cutting. Who needs the hassle? On the plus side, she’s chubby and exhibitionist. She’ll show up to the date drunk and put out after an hour. Half hour, if you compliment her “striking figure”.

Email #7:

I read your post on Anal, and this is perfect timing.

I need your advice on this situation.

Im under 30 years old, good game, and i do my thing.

I got a main squeeze that ive been stringing along for a while. Shes under 25, and is exotic, with a huge ass. Recently, ive really been wanting to get in that ass, so ive been experimenting with it when shes drunk.
I got my finger in there and she squirted like ive never seen before. Ive done this twice while shes drunk and safe to say, she LOVES it.

Problem is, when shes sober, she denies wanting to do it and hates the idea of my dick getting in there.

Her body clearly loves it, but the hamster is trying to steer her away from it. I need some good advice on broadening her horizons.

Coochaholik

Keep that hamster inebriated. Fuck her in the ass for hours so that she sobers up while you’re still balls deep in her butt. This is known as systematic desensitization therapy, aka the sneakyfucker cure.

Posted in Reader Mailbag | 110 Comments »

Modern Marriage In One Picture

Oct 13th, 2010 by

The reader who sent this in wrote:

It’s kind of amazing how much one image can totally capture everything that is wrong with wedding culture and how warped the meaning of the institution has become.

I thought it might be useful for your readership to see, and perhaps if a few were dating chicks with this kind of ring idolatry (and other similar, unsavory tendencies) they might sharpen up their game a bit before they, too, were rendered faceless.

Can you name all the ways this photo is a metaphor for the crumbling state of modern marriage? There are at least four emblematic American woman plagues that are apparent to the trained eye.

Posted in Escape, Marriage Is For Chumps | 231 Comments »

The Duke Rejection List

Oct 12th, 2010 by

I’ve gotten more emails to write about this Duke slut Karen Owen than I have on any other topic. I wasn’t interested at first, having scanned the notorious Powerpoint (also at this link in case first doesn’t work) and concluded that it was just another story of a whore riding the (alpha) cock carousel who happened to forego discretion and publicize her sluttery, nothing to see here move along dystopia down the hall and to your left. But a closer inspection of Owen’s tell-all reveals a river of scorned subconsciousness that the mainstream feminist bloggers have predictably failed to notice –

this chick was rejected by each and every one of these high status men she banged.

“But how can that be?”, some of the duller among you will ask. “None of the men turned her down for sex.”

Don’t you know it’s different for women? Failing to get laid is not how women are rejected; they are rejected when they don’t receive romance, love, and long term commitment from the men who fuck them. Most women under 25 with a slim and healthy 17-23 BMI profile have no trouble getting laid from the men they find attractive. Given that most young women can get sex fairly easily, falling into bed with a man, even high status men such as the Duke athletes targeted by Owen, is not much of an accomplishment. It’s like giving a trophy to a dog for being able to lick its own balls.

Now convincing these fly-by-nighter men to date, romance, introduce to their friends, spend money on, and marry the women they screw… that’s the real trick. And it is the measuring stick we should be applying to skank hos like Karen Owen. For by that metric, she and many others like her fail miserably.

For example, here is her write-up of the man (a tennis star) she rated the worst:

Note this man’s utter dismissal of her as a potential long term prospect. “Did not bother to kiss more than a few seconds”. “…after which he simply walked out”. “…did not return”. “‘I will leave them outside of the building for you’”.

And Owen’s reaction?

“1/10. Seriously.”

That is the tersely bitter send-off of one pissed and deeply wounded woman. Don’t let the whimsical snarkiness and slut empowerment pose fool you — even the raunchiest cockgobblers have a heart inside that beats for a man to love and cherish them above all others. The love of a man, true and loyal, is the slut’s white whale.

But what about the men she rated highly? Did they stay with her? Here’s her write-up of the man she rated the highest:

What did the first place man do differently than the last place man? He catered to her female need for signs of romance and commitment (which, in the end, weren’t forthcoming. And that kid went HA HAW):

“…intense level of eye contact”. “‘…if I get lucky you’ll wake me up with a kiss in the morning’”. “Him refusing to allow me to leave before noon”. “…how important it was to him that I got off as well”.

So when PUAs talk about leaving women better than you found them, this is what they mean — treat your pump and dumps like girlfriends and in the ego-assuaged haze of their pleasure they will forget that you haven’t actually committed to them beyond offering the half-eaten burrito in your fridge.

Unfortunately for Miss Owen, this story with ÜberMan #1 does not have a happy ending. After that amazing night together, this is how the following rendezvous meetings went down:

I saw him out briefly at Devines the Tuesday after, but since we had only just seen each other [ed: “seen” = “fuck” in chickspeak. GSS Fail!]… I did not even approach him, only making sure that he saw me in passing. […] I would have liked to have hooked up many more times than two, but he was tired and I needed to graduate the next day.

Long term romance fail. When a girl is careful not to talk to a lover in public for fear of creating an awkward moment that might kill the budding romance, you know you are dealing with a slut shooting way out of her league and, in the big picture, a dating market beautifully arranged to the maximum advantage of alpha males. This truly is the golden era for single men with game who have wisely avoided the trap of marriage. Conversely, it is the hell matrix for betas who now have nothing to offer but the pitiful consolation prize of being willing to wear ‘This is what a feminist looks like’ t-shirts in hopes of copping a pity fuck from a short-haired hippie chick on a five hour bender.

The whole Powerslut Powerpoint reads like the above. Owen snags another Duke alpha athlete (implicitly she has studiously avoiding snagging any computer science students on campus), has her sex, and then never sees the guy again except at beer pong parties where they exchange knowing glances if she’s lucky, or unacknowledged quick exits if she’s unlucky. Then she writes about it with a dash of humor and self-awareness to exorcise the demons tormenting her broken heart and chafed vulva, and sends it to a couple of girlfriends, her male-oriented brain assuming the girlfriends would be loyal to her and not pass it on to the wider public. Big mistake.

Probably the stupidest commentary on this affair was by that cougartown fembot Penelope Trunk, (the hypocritical conniving cacklepuss stalkercunt who harassed a man and his family in real life for having the gall to sneer at her feminist boilerplate), who in her infinite perspicacity managed to turn it into a treatise on, color me surprised!, sexual harassment and female empowerment via the magical art of spreading your legs for chaste men who only have sex once every thousand years when Jupiter and Saturn are aligned.

So what makes these slides so fascinating?  I think it’s her spunk and self-knowledge and enthralling sense of her own power. I wish I had had that when I was her age. I am twenty years older than Owen, but she inspires me to be brave, takes risks, and let my creativity get the best of me.

So what’s stopping you? Oh, that’s right. Twenty additional years (forty in female years) isn’t good for the bangathon business.

Jesus, what a buffoon.

Here’s some real insight for ya, Penelope and assorted Jizzabelers — Karen Owen has royally fucked up her chances to extract marriage from a good man thanks to her intemperate decision to write about, share and, consequently, archive for the masses for all eternity her insatiable hunger for a variety of lacrosse cock. Try to turn down the knobs on your psychologically-cemented female projection modules for a moment and put yourself in an alpha male’s shoes. What man worth his yarbles in character, money, career, looks, charm and/or social status is going to use Karen Owen for anything more than a hole in which to dump a perfunctory fuck? What high status man would marry a slut with a tap sheet a mile long, her every clitoral flutter registered in loving detail in ASCII, jpeg and png for his friends to read and laugh at?

Rhetorical.

Naturally, the double standards crowd will pipe up that Owen was just doing what men do all the time. Congratulations! You just figured out double standards exist and life isn’t fair. First prize, a group hug from fellow knobbobbers. Second prize, a beta with few options. Third prize, you’re still a rancid slut.

The impolite fact is that a man who wrote an Owen-esque fuck list would not suffer much, if any, penalty in the dating market *or* in the more tightly regulated social market for his promiscuity. Sure, a few femtards would wail at the objectifying of women and the unfairness that ugly but SMRT broads are passed over for alpha bimbo sorostitutes, but in the crucible of real life most normal heterosexual women would be uncomfortably drawn to such a man, and would work for his affections. I’m sure the athletes who are a part of Owen’s fuck list are high-fiving their pounding of Owen’s sperm cavern when they’re not fucking a hundred other groupies scrambling for their attentions.

Bottom line: a male Karen Owen would actually see his sexual market value *rise*, while Owen’s value as a girlfriend and potential wife has undoubtedly fallen. This — plus the raw hypergamy on display by her choice of sexual partners and her ability to effortlessly fulfill that limbic impulse — is the underlying message of Owen’s cutesy confessional. And it’s the message that the legacy media, the middle-aged vicars of vicariousness, and the feminists are trying hard to miss.

******

A few other points of note. Duke is also the site of the infamously racist false rape accusation by a black stripper against white lacrosse players. The mass media and fembots had a glorious communal orgasm over that one until it was discovered the whole thing was a lie. Funny how now, with another Duke scandal wafting in the autumn air, those same media mavens and feminists can’t be bothered to string up Karen Owen for her objectifying of Duke’s male students. Instead of a wail, admiration for her journey of self-actualization is shared by all.

Hypocrites, liars and filthy cunts, the lot of them.

Karen Owen herself looks masculinized. Check out her manjaw, beady eyes and heavy overhanging brow (on the left):

The photo of her lends evidence to my theory that women with high serum testosterone, or women who have been prenatally drowned in single mamma’s high T syrup, are more likely to slut it up with a platoon of men. These kinds of women are also more likely to value raw looks in a man, whereas more feminine women tend to downgrade male looks relative to other attractive male traits such as humor, charm and social acumen. It is possible that Owen’s masculinization gives her the male-like capacity to absorb to a greater extent than most women a series of repeated romantic rejections from crudely inattentive one night stands.

Last thought. What I’ve written above is based on the assumption that Owen was honest with her Powerpoint. It isn’t a guarantee that she’s telling the truth. The internet is the place where people make shit up. (Case in point: I could be making everything up as well. Every story I write could be a total lie. It isn’t, but it could be. You’ll just have to take my word for it.)

Owen could very well have made everything up for shits and giggles, or she could have been cruelly rejected by an alpha lacrosse player and this was her weird idea of getting back at him and those like him. It’s not unheard of that women will lie, in both petty and grand ways, about the men who have hurt them in a vain attempt at exacting vengeance, nor is it unheard of that they will fantasize out loud about having sex with alpha males. For purposes of discussion, we’ll have to believe the story as reported: the hookups are real and she only meant to send her fuck list to a few (formerly) close girlfriends.

I’m sure the Duke lacrosse players are crying in their red cups. [/sarcasm]

Posted in Alpha, Dating, Escape, Girls, Sluts, The Big City Life, The Id Monster, Tool Time | 806 Comments »

The SWPL Network

Oct 11th, 2010 by

I saw The Social Network aka The Asperger’s Wing and thought it was a superficially entertaining dialogorrhea fest that’s supposed to make credentialed class yuppies and SWPLs inwardly gloat that their brains are quick enough to follow the zipadeedooda banter. The theeeeatre was a packed house; looking around, the crowd reminded me of the people who went to go see Jodie Foster’s IQ mash note Little Man Tate. Same faces, same age bracket, same preternatural glow of self-satisfied superiority.

Which got me thinking… why did this thin psychological slice of Zuckerberg’s inner sanctum (Hey! A hot chick’s rejection spurs him to achieve great things!) generate such buzz among the suckup credentialati? (Judging by Zuckernerd’s bland Asian girlfriend, he doesn’t seem like a larger-than-life figure upon whom to base an entire plotline.)

This movie says a lot more about the audience demo giving it accolades than it does about a handful of socially retarded code monkeys who hit it big in the internet glory days. The fact is, SWPLs are enamored of genetic genius and creativity… not ambition, not fortitude, not conscientiousness or discipline… IQ and CQ. The whole lot of them has Harvard envy, and they watch dramatized movies about their IQ superiors with equal parts schadenfreude and admiration. They’ve got a hard-on for good breeding, even if they’d never admit it.

Jesse Eisenberg is not a good actor. The guy who played the Winklevii was good. I was hoping the movie… excuse me, film… would take a wild twist where the Winklevii tag teamed Zuckerberg in a back alley. Rashida Jones is eminently bangable. Justin Timberlake has an annoying face.

Posted in Culture | 135 Comments »

Are PUAs Douchebags And Hucksters?

Oct 8th, 2010 by

Kidstrangelove sent in a link to a video of self-proclaimed top PUA gurus attempting to demonstrate their craft by picking up a hot talk show host. He wanted to know if I agreed that the PUAs embarrassed themselves. I saw the video (which has now been made private) and do agree that the PUAs do not come off looking very suave. If this is all I knew of them, and I was in the market to learn game, I would not give my money to them for instruction.

But to be fair to the parade of men who threw their worst best game at a female talk show host who was anticipating their moves and relishing the thought of humiliating them on live TV, they were playing against a stacked deck. Few men, no matter how smooth they are with women in real life, will come off looking good under those circumstances.

So I cut them a break for their woeful performances. But this does lead one to wonder why high profile PUAs would risk certain embarrassment and discredit to their business model by hawking their skills on a talk show where all the rules are in the female host’s favor and the whole thing is a set-up to entrap the PUA into making a fool of himself. I doubt even Mystery — a man who has certainly banged more hot babes than 99% of the men in the world can claim to have banged — would do well in such a distorted scenario.

The only explanation that makes sense is that the desire for fame exceeds common sense. Maybe these guys think “Hey, I have a low chance of avoiding humiliation by doing this, but the TV exposure will certainly redound to more clients for my workshops and more chicks on my schlong.” They might be right; who knows, I don’t see their financial or bedroom balance sheets.

“Bro-town”

Kidstrangelove then linked to this post by a guy named Rob Judge (reputedly one of NYC’s best players), who eviscerates (semi-justifiably, in my view) a lot of the silliness that passes for PUAdom.

The Pickup Artist is no longer someone who walks among us. The term, once a secret endearment to men on the Internet, has become a label of satire and shame. To aspire to be a PUA—or the ever-lofty mPUA—is now, ironically, the most rAFC you could do. Because The Pickup Artist is dead… […]

Let me ask you this, Pickup Artist: If you weren’t allowed to tell anyone you got that girl’s number, would it still be cool? Would you still take her number and run like a thief in the night? Or would you shift your focus from getting #-closes to actually trying to get girls.

In fact, that brings up an important point: Why ARE you doing this? Why are you studying pickup material, involved in the community, and reading this blog? Is it to meet awesome women? Or is it to get the awesome approval of guys?

See, almost every guy will scream at me, “It’s to meet awesome women!” But what do those same guys scream when they do meet awesome women…”LAY REPORT BRO!!!” These same guys who claim they’re out to meet women are the first ones on the Brag Express with a one-way ticket to Bro-town whenever they do anything that resembles meeting an awesome woman.

Lay reports can serve as a useful learning tool for newbies, as long as they are written in the spirit of knowledge sharing and analytic insight. But too often, they degenerate into bragging matches, and that’s where the douchery rears its ugly head. Back in the day, on sites like Fastseduction.com, lay reports were gold mines of insider knowledge about the workings of the female mind; today, more of them resemble the chest-thumpings of frat boys and nerds speaking through Casanova avatars.

As those who know me very well know, I ring the death knell of The Pickup Artist because I want to see guys actually meet and attract awesome women. And The Pickup Artist will not help you do that. In fact, the first thing any guys who wants to meet and attract awesome women has to do is sift through his intentions. He must remove any inkling of “Bro-town” from his approach. I challenge you not to tell a soul about your “infield accomplishments” for a full month and see how much better you are at attracting quality women.

OK, so this guy Rob Judge is marketing himself by positioning his business model as the antidote to widely assumed PUA hucksterism and douchiness. Nothing wrong with that, but it does suggest his slam of the PUA community should be taken with a grain of salt.

The useful advice here is that you should live your womanizing life as if the opinions of men didn’t matter to you. In real life, I rarely broadcast my pickups. Truth is, I can’t be bothered. The allure of recounting in vivid detail last night’s seduction with a bunch of male friends lost its appeal after legal drinking age. Sure, if I take a call from a really good friend the next day, I’ll tell him about the chick I scored. That will never change. But most of the time, my pickups, my flings, my one night stands, and even my long term hookups, remain shrouded in shadowy mystery from the eyes of acquaintances. Often, very good friends won’t meet my girlfriends until a month after I have been dating them. My friends don’t seem bothered by this; in fact, they admire it, because it shows I’m serious about the effort I put into romancing women.

This attitude imparts my lifestyle with a bit of gravitas and, more practically speaking, allows me a measure of control over my relationships (and my ex-relationships) that would be harder to attain were the whole world to know every detail of my licentious misdeeds. And it does matter for pickup success; when it’s just me versus the women of the world, and not me and my bros versus the women of the world, I can better focus on the task at hand. Women will know, too, if your motives are tainted with anything but achieving the heights of pleasure with them.

Posted in Game, Guy Rules, Self-aggrandizement | 175 Comments »

Anal Sex The New Technicality

Oct 7th, 2010 by

(This post is dedicated to Geert Wilders in his fight against the forces of powerful leftist intellectuals intent on punishing him for the sin of speaking his mind on a subject that gives the leftie witch hunters the hives — namely, the capitulation of Europe to Islam. May he be victorious in his battle against these traitors not only to the West, but to their own classical liberal principles.)

Anal sex among women is up, way up. And not just anal sex; oral intimacy is up too.

Here’s the big story. In 1992, 16 percent of women aged 18-24 said they’d tried anal sex. Now 20 percent of women aged 18-19 say they’ve done it, and by ages 20-24, the number is 40 percent. In 1992, the highest percentage of women in any age group who admitted to anal sex was 33. In 2002, it was 35. Now it’s 46.

According to various bloggers around the web who routinely cite data from the General Social Survey (GSS) purporting to show that women are actually getting less slutty since the 1980s, this new data throws a monkey wrench into those prematurely ejaculated conclusions. If women are getting less slutty, how is it anal and oral sex are increasing among all age groups?

Well, it depends on how you define “slut”. I have previously contended that the GSS sex data cannot be fully trusted because 1) women (and to a lesser extent, men) have a deeply ingrained inclination to lie about matters concerning the most ego-wrapped delicate questions of sexual practice, and 2) women in particular are prone to dismissing acts of anal, oral and hand sex as instances of actual “sex”. Try to put yourself in the fuck-me pumps of a 22 year old virgin who is answering anonymous survey questions about her sex life.

How many men have you had sex with in the past five years?

GIRL: [thinking to herself] Well, there was Tommy, but he only did me in the ass, so that doesn’t count. Then there was Trent, but I only gave him blowjobs. I told him that I wanted to save myself for marriage. Then the asshole left me! And there was Brian, but except for a few BJs and a tug job behind the 7-11, I never gave it up to him. And…. let’s see, who else… oh yeah, Joe, Chris, some guy who called himself the Dude, Adam, Hoight, Anfernee… mostly anal, some mouth love. But I didn’t give my virginity to any of them. Yay me! So… I didn’t have sex with any men.

You can see where this is going.

In other words, the female rationalization hamster is shitting bite-sized pellets all over the GSS results. And now we have data publicized in the Journal of Sexual Medicine providing evidence for my “Hamster Skewed Sociosexuality Discrepancy” theory, in the form of rising anal and oral sex rates among previously reported less sexually-active women. Something’s not adding up among the numbers, and that something is women’s inability to correctly diagnose their own levels of sluttiness. Anal sex is the new technicality that lets women avoid the slut label while allowing them to experience the exquisite proxy pleasure of procreative sex.

To wit, as a man, are you going to give a “get out of the whorehouse free” card to a woman who is a vaginal virgin but has had a platoon of peckers up her bunghole? No, of course not.

Not only are more chicks trying anal sex, but the data show that more of them are sticking with the taboo pleasure.

The last time I looked at the anal sex data, I figured that most women who reported having done it meant they’d tried it just once. I was wrong. If you push these women beyond the “have you ever” question, the numbers stay surprisingly high, and they’re getting higher. In 1992, the percentage of women in their 20s and 30s who said they’d had anal sex in the past year was around 10 percent. Now that number has doubled to more than 20 percent, and one-third of these women say they’ve done it in the last month. Among all women surveyed, the number who reported anal sex in their most recent sexual encounter was 3 percent to 4 percent.

Most women love anal sex once they’ve tried it. I’m convinced there is a physiological connection between the anus/rectum area and the orgasmic zones of the pussy that accounts for the thrills women receive from ass love. There is also the dominance aspect of anal sex that is undoubtedly highly arousing to women; after all, what position is more degrading than bent over taking it up the poop chute? Degrading = tingles? No. Degrading = seismic snatch waves.

One of my fondest foreplay moments was when a (married) Russian chick (from Vladivostok, if that means anything to you Russophiles) stripped naked, turned around, and looking inquisitively over her shoulder, asked in the most pleasingly feminine voice, slightly accented: “Would you like to do me in the ass?” Naturally, I obliged. She squealed like a piglet that found a fresh mudhole… for me to plug up.

That’s a lot of butt sex. And remember, this is what women are reporting. If anything, they’re probably understating the truth.

You don’t say? Trying to get a straight answer from women about their sexual history is like getting cultured yuppies to admit the real reason why they moved to the suburbs once their kids were ready for public schooling.

So what’s with all the buggery? Is it brutality? Coercion? A porn-inspired male fantasy at women’s expense?

It’s none of those things and all of those things. Chicks dig the submissive posture. The pleasure of submitting, exemplified most conspicuously by presenting for rough anal intrusion, induces orgasms in women.

Apparently not. Check out the orgasm data. Among women who had vaginal sex in their last encounter, the percentage who said they reached orgasm was 65. Among those who received oral sex, it was 81. But among those who had anal sex, it was 94. Anal sex outscored cunnilingus. […]

What could explain this? Taboo thrill? Clitoral migration? Some new kind of vegetable oil?

Here’s my guess. Look carefully at Table 4, Pages 355-6. Only 6 percent of women who had anal sex in their last encounter did so in isolation. Eighty-six percent also had vaginal sex. Seventy-two percent also received oral sex. Thirty-one percent also had partnered masturbation. And the more sex acts a woman engaged in during the encounter, the more likely she was to report orgasm. These other activities are what gave the women their orgasms. The anal sex just came along for the ride.

So why did the inclusion of anal sex bump the orgasm figure up to 94 percent? It didn’t. The causality runs the other way. Women who were getting what they wanted were more likely to indulge their partners’ wishes. It wasn’t the anal sex that caused the orgasms. It was the orgasms that caused the anal sex.

I’m not sure about Saletan’s reading of the orgasm data. What percent of women had vaginal, oral or hand sex in isolation in their last encounter? Those numbers might be equally low. If it was true that a variety and increasing number of sex acts contributed to women’s reaching orgasm, then we would see women’s claims of reaching orgasm more evenly dispersed between the various sex acts. A woman who had anal, oral, hand and vaginal sex in one session would be just as likely to reach orgasm during any one of those acts. Instead, anal sex comes out on top, brown and stinky. The answer to why women reach orgasm with anal sex more often than other sexual practices is simpler than the reason given by Saletan — most chicks, and men too, don’t like the idea of sticking shit-covered cocks anywhere else than the butt. A2M porn fantasies to the contrary notwithstanding, the female ass is generally the last place men and women like to go after a long lovemaking session violating her less toxic orifices. Given that, it’s no surprise that later-to-orgasm chicks climax more often during the last sexual act than during the earlier acts. Furthermore, anal sex is in and of itself very pleasurable for women. It could also be that women simply have an easier time cumming with a dick shoved up their butt.

If anal sex is a trailing indicator of women’s sexual satisfaction, then by all means, let’s toast the new findings. Here’s to you, ladies. Bottoms up.

I remember reading an astounding sex survey figure in a book about human sexuality. I can’t recall the name of the book; I think it was something like “What Men Want, What Women Want”. It was published in the mid 90s. The author had data showing that the college football team quarterback at the University of Oklahoma had had 2,000 sexual partners over his four year college career.

I don’t know what made me think of that.

Posted in Culture, Dating, Girls, Sluts, The Pleasure Principle | 237 Comments »

The Alpha Male Body Language That Attracts Women

Oct 6th, 2010 by

The scientific evidence confirming the tenets of game continues rolling in like a tsunami, washing away shrieking feminists and clucking betaboys like so much worthless debris. (Here is the original paper.)

Practicing Certain Poses Creates a Sense of Power

New research indicates that holding a pose that opens up a person’s body and takes up space will alter hormone levels and make the person feel more powerful and more willing to take risks.

Gee, now where have we heard this before?

“These poses actually make you more powerful,” said study researcher Amy C.J. Cuddy, a social psychologist at the Harvard Business School.

Fake it till you make it? Not the whole story. I’ve long contended that game is its own status. That is, that the poses, behavior, words and attitude that game teaches is power in itself, and thus attractive to women. This study proves my contention. When you run game, you are becoming more powerful.

The opposite also proved true: Constrictive postures lowered a person’s sense of power and willingness to take risks.

To gather the balls to hit on women, you need to assume a posture that infuses you with ballsiness. Uncross your arms, lower your drink, open your legs, thrust out your chest, lift your chin a bit and make your crotch the locus of your chi.

In the study, researchers randomly assigned 42 participants, 26 of them women, to assume and hold a pair of either low- or high-power poses. The high-power posers spent one minute sitting in a chair in front of a desk, with feet resting on it and hands clasped behind the head, and, in the other pose, they stood, leaning forward over a table, with arms out and hands resting on the table. In both poses, the participants took up space, an expression of power not unique to the human world. For example, peacocks fan their tails to attract a mate and chimpanzees bulge their chests to assert their hierarchical rank, the researchers noted.

“These power poses are deeply intertwined with the evolutionary selection of what is ‘alpha,’” wrote the researchers in the September issue of the journal Psychological Science.

More and more, my definition of what is the alpha male is being proved correct.

The low-power group sat for one minute with their hands clasped on their thighs, legs together, and also stood for one minute with arms folded and legs crossed.

Low-power = beta. There may be a point, though, at which a man is so incredibly alpha that he can afford to display some beta poses without paying a cost in lowered attractiveness to women. Sort of like the handicap principle.

Those who held the high-power poses saw their testosterone increase, while their levels of a stress hormone, cortisol, decreased.

Chicks can smell testosterone. It’s why they moisten their panties for the male victor in a fight. Testosterone and cortisol are the two hormones to watch. The ideal level for attracting women is high T and low C. Few men can achieve that mix.

The high-power posers were more likely to risk their $2 for the chance to double it: Eighty-six percent took the gamble, compared with 60 percent of the low-power posers.

Chicks dig risk takers. Expendability is a DHV.

This study is part of a field of psychological research called embodiment. The basic idea is that the mind/body relationship is not a one-way street, with the mind giving orders for the body to carry out. Rather, the body also influences the mind. Other studies have indicated, for example, that holding an expression, like a smile, can alter one’s mood, as can a hunched posture.

People who claim that game is trickery designed to fool women into thinking the man is alpha, are wrong. Game will actually alter your perception of yourself and create a positive power feedback loop. Game even alters hormone levels.

Schubert has studied the bodily feedback produced by fist-clenching. After making and holding a fist, men reported feeling more powerful. Female subjects, by contrast, had less hope for control after making a fist.

I often find myself balling up my hands into a fist when I’m thinking about something that makes me angry.

The researchers attributed the results to the idea that men associate their own physical force with power, while women associate it with powerlessness…

Women derive their power from their sexiness, and their ability to engage in verbal subterfuge. Physical force offers them no advantage.

The study also showed that practicing these power poses before going out translates into feeling more powerful hours afterward. So, stand tall, silverback, and pillage the pussy that is rightfully yours.

Posted in Game | 201 Comments »

The United States Of Autoimmunity

Oct 5th, 2010 by

The immune system of the United States of America has been sabotaged. It now fails to recognize its own cells within the body politic. The West has been conditioned like Pavlov’s creepier zombie dog to cannibalize itself when a PC platitude bell is rung.

So says godless capitalist (gc), in the comments section of perhaps the most rollicking and perspicacious post and comment thread on the internet in the past four years.

[…] The only way to maintain a holy lie is by persecuting the truth tellers. Such persecutors are not interested in the long term fate of Western Civilization, but only in short term stability. They are like people who “protect” a dying patient from the bitter medicine that will cause momentary discomfort but lasting remission.

The priest class which controls the media and which coordinated the attack on Watson and Summers is not making a hard decision to produce the greatest good for the greatest number. After all, they have promoted ideologies and policies like no-fault divorce and forced busing that have caused untold misery for millions. They care not about the plight of the vast majority of inhabitants of the country; they care about the stability of their sinecures. […]

But here’s the thing. You’ve seen hundreds or thousands of hours of footage of events in which rightist ideas of one stripe or another are causing harm to minorities. The Holocaust, My Lai, Bull Connor, the Japanese internment, Operation Wetback, Columbus, Guantanamo, etc. Literally trillions of dollars in capital investment has resulted in a reflexive, emotional association of rightist action by whites with mass murder in your mind. I know it has because I have the same association. How could you not, when you have been strapped into a chair with the Holocaust beamed into your eyes for the K-12 years and beyond?

But bear with me for a second and imagine what would happen if the polarities had been reversed, if the footage on TV was of the people manning the White Sea Labor Camps, of the Killing Fields and the laogai, of South African crime and Saudi Arabian fanaticism, of Mexican illiteracy and pre-Columbian savagery.

In short, imagine if the Blank Slate Asymmetry were inverted — if the footage were intended to spur the immune system of Western Civilization to action (and overaction) rather than to disable it. No doubt such a world would be blinkered and biased in many aspects…but it would in major respects be closer to reality.

It’s a vertiginous thing to even contemplate, because it makes you realize the extent of the unreality you’ve internalized. For example, everyone has been told — over and over and over again — that blacks are victims rather than victimizers when the reality is the complete opposite. The realization that the media has been lying to you comes too late, only when you or your loved ones have become the victims…only when your friend is lying dead on the ground and there is no TV camera to put falsehood before your lying eyes. […]

The whole point is that h-bd is the one determining aspect which is not publicly discussed. Of course marginal tax rates affect tax receipts. But so does IQ. Of course bilingual policy affects immigrant assimilation. But so does IQ. Of course the educational curriculum affects achievement. But so does IQ.

Yet IQ is the factor that cannot be publicly mooted, let alone debated. And as for the reason that it cannot be debated – that reason is even more doubleplusungood.

Anyway, by now it’s a moot point. These taboos are not going to change anytime soon. Civilizations *do* die. The West had a 500 year run in which it was characterized by being the most willing to jettison holy lies in favor of truth. That willingness to embrace truth, regardless of where it may lead, lead to world beating power and unmatched material wealth. And eventually, it lead to contentment, relaxation, and subsequent immunocompromisation.

In addition to the admission of millions of illiterate migrant workers, the West has now admitted groups that are in some respects symbiotes, but that have now well and truly sabotaged its immune system and its nervous system. Not just the Ashkenazim, but the South and East Asians as well — my people. If the numbers were manageable that would be one thing; the symbiotes might eventually be integrated into the host. But the numbers are not manageable. Everyone is now in the ethnic activism game, intent on suppressing the immune response and preventing frank discussion of truth.

“Ask not what you can do for your country, ask how the country can benefit your ethnic group”. Look at Racialicious or some of the posters on Sepia Mutiny for examples of this attitude; Racialicious in particular is written by a modern-day Torquemada.

Bottom line — like a man with a sabotaged immune system, the West can no longer make self/nonself distinctions:

At the heart of the immune system is the ability to distinguish between self and nonself. Virtually every body cell carries distinctive molecules that identify it as self.

And like a man with a damaged nervous system, the West’s internal perceptions are out of sync with the external reality. Consider a hand on a hot stove. It does not matter if the lowly epithelial cells are burned by the million if the nerve cells refuse to communicate this truth to the seat of conscious action.

Similarly, the media is the nervous system of a civilization. The signals it chooses to amplify, dampen, or interpret control the response of the body. If paralyzed, it matters not if the body is hale and hearty and theoretically capable of action. A malfunctioning nervous system will leave an otherwise healthy body jerking around in response to phantasms of racism — or directing its efforts against its own cells.

But sawing off heads is a bit of a chore. Parasites are not accustomed to exerting themselves if they can coerce a stand-in. My favourite character in Wilson’s The Insect Societies is Monomorium santschii. This species, over evolutionary time, has lost its worker caste altogether. The host workers do everything for their parasites, even the most terrible task of all. At the behest of the invading parasite queen, they actually perform the deed of murdering their own mother. The usurper doesn’t need to use her jaws. She uses mind-control. How she does it is a mystery; she probably employs a chemical, for ant nervous systems-are generally highly attuned to them. If her weapon is indeed chemical, then it is as insidious a drug as any known to science. For think what it accomplishes. It floods the brain of the worker ant, grabs the reins of her muscles, woos her from deeply ingrained duties and turns her against her own mother. For ants, matricide is an act of special genetic madness and formidable indeed must be the drug that drives them to it. In the world of the extended phenotype, ask not how an animal’s behaviour benefits its genes; ask instead whose genes it is benefiting.

Witness the reaction to Katrina: the fact that whites had to defend themselves against black looters somehow became an indictment of white racism. The obvious facts on the ground, the facts sensed by those lowly epithelial cells, were simply inverted by a compromised nervous system.

By selective signal amplification or damping one can make overlaps appear to be equalities. The signals exist — they need not be made up out of whole cloth. One need only turn up the volume on (say) poor migrant workers stranded in the desert and turn down the volume on (say) anchor babies to achieve the desired effect without obvious fingerprints.

…anyway, I’ve gone on long enough. The West’s time in the limelight is fast coming to an end; the West will be known for fractious infighting in the years to come, with the taboo looming above like a solar eclipse, with “decent people” tasked with blotting out truth for as far as the eye can see. Hate speech legislation will come to the US. Sensitivity demands it.

And as America continues its descent into Mexico Norte, I will mourn the civilization that produced Bach and Beethoven and Shockley and Watson. […]

I like this guy’s style.

Those of us who aren’t lying phoneyfucks and traitors mourn the passing of America. The gated community crowd, ever so vigilant to signal the proper moral pose to their SWPL and elite overlords, will carry on self-satisfied and haughty, as the cytokine storm consumes the body around them…

…until there is nothing left from which to feast.

Posted in Goodbye America, Ugly Truths | 535 Comments »

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