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How Do I Love Thee? Like A Woman, Or Like A Man

Jul 2nd, 2018 by

Men and women love differently.

I don’t mean they feel differently when in love. The emotional flavor of love feels I’d imagine the same for men and women. A sizzling of the neurons, a swelling of the thorax, a stinging of the loins. The heart palpates for anticipated meetings.

I mean what’s different is what causes love to erupt in men and women.

A man’s nice body and face can arouse a woman, but it’s not the source of her love for him. His physical features are fuel for a few weeks twixt the sheets. A woman’s deep, true, sensual love is triggered instead by a man’s attitude, his charisma, his dominance, his SELF-POSSESSION. When she idly daydreams of him, it’s that smirky sparkle and the way he speaks to her that flutters her labial shutters.

A man’s love can and often is triggered almost entirely by a woman’s body and face. Love at first sight is a timeless trope passed along by generations of romantic men because it is men who are wont to fall deeply in love with a woman merely at the sight of her exquisite beauty and banging body. Women often don’t understand this about men, and as such women will project their own love triggers onto men, and wonder, befuddled, how it is a man can fall in love with a woman after a few minutes visually soaking her up. This explains why attractive women have the bad habit of castigating easily smitten men as “creeps”, because filtered through a woman’s evolved sensibility it *is* creepy to fall in love with a man simply by looking at him and not delving more rigorously into his anima. Women don’t drink from the same love potion, and so, being the solipsistic sex, women assume the love potion form which men drink is a toxic brew.

Of course, men also fall MORE deeply in love with a beautiful woman if she also has a feminine disposition and shares traits and values with him (#1: she gets his humor). This is the kind of cementing love that is familiar to women, who operate near or at this level from the first date, always with a mind and a heart toward a stronger connection than that which is obtained via visual inspection.

I sometimes suspect that on the basis of their primal lust coupled with their yearning romanticism, men love more powerfully than most women, but a few women who have had the pleasure to submit to a dominant alpha male will love more powerfully than anything in the universe, even stronger than a mother’s love for child.

Posted in Love | 171 Comments »

Comment Of The Week: Comment Of The Millennium

Jul 2nd, 2018 by

COTW-slash-COTM winner is Hackett To Bits, hacking America 2.h0 to its essential bit.

Soy meets Grrrl

This COTW would make an excellent dystopian novel title.

Posted in Comment Winners | 50 Comments »

When The Sexual Polarity Reverses

Jun 29th, 2018 by

Everything wrong with America in one snapshot.

Vagina dominator adds,

This is from a blog someone here (thanks) linked to called Dating Data where the woman in this picture produces her dating data like some autist from fourchan.

Questions:

1) Which one looks like a Predator and which one looks like Prey? Shouldn’t the man be the scarier looking one?

2) On the 10-scale, what is her number? Can she even be found on a female scale?

3) How big is her clit? Compared to one of your fingers, a dick, or a salami, for example.

4) Is it alright if we let the naggers have her or could that produce something unpredictably dangerous?

I’ve argued that a reversing sexual polarity is both a sign and an accelerant of civilizational decline. If we accept the premise that men vary from low to high T (or from lsmv to hsmv), and women vary from low to high E (or from lsmv to hsmv), then there are four ways men and women can match up:

  1. low T male with low E female
  2. low T male with high E female
  3. high T male with high E female
  4. high T male with low E female

The most stable relationship match is high T male with high E female. The sexual polarity is aligned for maximal attraction, as the God of Biomechanics ordains it.

The least stable relationship match is high T male with low E female. A man with options will scour for alternatives without a second wasted on guilt if he is somehow in the situation of dating a fat chick or a broad-shouldered feminist. Here, the sexual polarity wobbles on its axis, as attraction over time will run in one direction only (girl -> man).

The next least stable match is low T male with high E female. This relationship can work for a while if the low T male has compensatory attractiveness traits, such as wealth or charm. But his womanly disposition, “I’m With Her” mentality, and puffy soybody will put off hot babes who can get the whole package. As above, the sexual polarity wobbles, attraction running generally man -> girl.

Where it gets interesting is the low T male-low E female matches, which are increasing in frequency in our late stage weakening culture. This is the union of two lsmv losers who have essentially switched sexual polarities, the man being more like the woman and the woman more like the man, as exemplified in the above two photos. The low T male + low E female is also known as The Fuggernaut. Paradoxically, although this relationship is marked by reversed sexual polarity, it can often be stable (although not as stable as a properly aligned sexual polarity one would see with a high T man + high E woman). Its stability is a function of there being a begrudging acceptance that neither party will do better, and although reversed, the polarity does possess a weak attraction force. Low E women sometimes need the effeminate nurturing of a low T man, and low T men sometimes needs a rock-jawed ballcutter to be aggressive and lead them to unwhispered pleasures of the disfigured flesh.

In the long view, however, this last relationship match-up is deadly toxic to a healthy civilization, for it brings with it unseemly baggage like cuckoldry, slut pride, the relinquishment of paternity certainty as a founding principle of committed relationships, loss of male dignity, open borders cheerleading, pussyhat degeneracy, and infertility (crooked sperm and ossified cyst-splattered wombs don’t combine to be fruitful and multiply).

hsmv men + hsmv women bring good times
good times bring lsmv men + lsmv women
lsmv men + lsmv women bring hard times
hard times bring hsmv men + hsmv women

*hsmv = high sexual market value
*lsmv = low sexual market value

Posted in Biomechanics is God, Goodbye America, Physiognomy is Real, Ridiculousness, The Fuggernaut, Ugly Truths | 155 Comments »

Overgaming During Blowjob

Jun 28th, 2018 by

Overgaming is the mistake inexperienced but eager-to-learn men make with women. It’s a term that means “coming on too strong” (or too jerkish, or too cloying, or too supplicating, etc).

Overgaming usually occurs during the attraction phase of a pickup (the first fifteen minutes) because that’s when men are most hyped up to leave a solid impression on a qtπ. But overgaming can occur during any stage of a seduction, and it’s not uncommon for men to act too “creepy” during the comfort stage or too aggressive during the bedroom close.

However, rarely have I heard of overgaming during a blowjob, until now.

From Sad Girl:

Anecdote on ways to ruin something good. You will probably find it annoying that I am using your terminology and for being foul, but here goes since I am anonymous.

Annoying? I find it charming that you cum to me for help. Doubtless I would be less charmed if we were dating and you were regaling me with sexploits from your slutty past.

Scenario: Guy (a natural) I am dating told me I was worldclass at blowjobs in the middle of one (posture: cocky, leaning back casually on the sofa with his head resting in his hands, which I like to see)

Every man worth his yarbles should strike this pose at least once in his life when the opportunity ARISES. Your T level will go through the roof of the Trump Tower.

and outlining that I was in the top 3 in his life, *subtly ranking me while his dick was in my mouth*. Exceptional, you see – but not number one. A neg…

LMAO. I mean, this is funny af but totally unnecessary. In his defense….since when have jerkboys been known for their circumspection?

This kind of behaviour doesn’t lower his value to me psychologically, as I am sure you will understand.

All too well.

But…it has soured this ”special thing we share” – spending time together with his cock in my mouth. I think this is an example of ”overgaming”. My enthusiasm was at a level 10 for this act, and now it has dropped.

To a 9.5?

I am around 30 which I think you will find relevant, and there was literally no need to psychologically motivate me to suck harder by planting a seed of competition in my head, since it was already my favourite thing that I do constantly without being asked, and I assume that’s a huge part of why he is dating me.

How long had you two been dating when he gave your BJ technique a top 3 finish? (technically, he could have meant you were number one. technically.) If you had been dating for a while, and exclusively, then his hummerbrag would sound more like a toothless joke. If you had just started dating, then it would indicate something more ominous — that he was still playing the bj field or would be if your technique fell short (heh) of his standards. Or maybe he just thought it was funny, and jerkboys don’t bother with nuisances like idle thought filters.

In this case, there was only room to go down.

These things happen after a blowjob.

I think negging me in this situation like that made me enjoy it less, and I don’t think I can go back to the real enthusiasm I had before. I just feel differently now. It hurt my feelings, or my ego, or who knows the other things going on emotionally i haven’t sorted out yet, while I have actually been giving my all. It’s not the same now.

If you were genuinely hurt by his flagrante delicto judgment call, I have the cure for your sub-par bj blues.

*zzzzzziiiiiipp*

Get ready, your bj level is about to hit 99 (inches).

I’ll spare a moment of post-lockajw seriousness; if he only said it once and you can tell by his joy that he still loves cumming to you for your very special lessons in oral love, then don’t allow a poorly timed spell of overgaming to spoil you on him. And to be franknbeans, it sounds like you’re still with him, giving him a little less than your all (but which would still qualify as a bone-anza to the typical beta incel) but giving it to him nonetheless, so my conclusion is that you are HEAD over heels for this lovable jerk and came here to vent your insecurities about his potential waywardness, and wondering aloud if in coded language to Chateau lords the odds that Top 3 Knob Job Jerkboy would leave you for a girlie with a nimbler, precision targeting tongue.

To that, all I can advise is take a cue from his tone. Did he rank you in the braheemian vocal stylings of a man eager to show off, or was his message delivered with a blunt blurt suggesting his mind was likely drifting to memories of the agog minxmouths of lost lovers? If the former, brush it off. If the latter, there’s a website you can go to where you’ll find plenty of men who will treat you with the dearest respect you so obviously deserve when your polehole is wrapped for his pleasure:

http://www.mgtow.com

Posted in Funny/Lolblogs, Game, Girls, The Pleasure Principle, Tool Time | 153 Comments »

The World’s Greatest Troll: Donald Trump

Jun 28th, 2018 by

Reader Tiberius gets at the core truth explaining the mass hysteria of the anti-Trump shitlib fanatics:

Trump is killing their god.

Yes. There is no greater rage than that directed against the heretic, the god-killer, by the shaken faithful.

PS Trump delivered what is possibly the greatest Neg in the history of Game-kind:

“I refuse to call megyn kelly a bimbo”

Dear Lord, that is a thing of beauty. The Perfect Neg, in substance, style, cadence, and custom-fit. The very act of verbalizing a refusal to call a hot babe a bimbo implies that she’s a bimbo; that the only concern holding one back from calling her a bimbo is not that she isn’t a bimbo but that it is impolite to say it, (while implicitly saying it!).

That’s the sort of nuclear neg that can bring an HB10 to her knees, mouth open, begging for the redemptive cock.

Posted in Alpha, Funny/Lolblogs, Trumperica, Videos | 59 Comments »

Ann Coulter Reads Chateau Heartiste

Jun 28th, 2018 by

Ann unsheathes a mighty shiv this week in her column “Country Overboard! Women and Children Last!“. She touches on many themes explored here at Le Chateau, and comes suspiciously, deliciously close to restating certain, sharp phrases coined by yours cruelly.

Her column delves into the racket that is the refugee asylum system in the US, paying particular attention to the shitlib-anointed status of “oppressed” women from third world shitholes, reminding readers that the women are as much a shitproduct of their shitholes as are the men from those shitholes.

Aside from our immigration authorities missing little things like the Rwandan genocide, what is the argument for taking in millions of people from backward cultures, hotbeds of real racism, pederasty and misogyny — as opposed to the “microaggressions” that are the bane of our culture? 

It’s one thing to use quotas as a response to slavery and Jim Crow in our own country, but why do we have to have an immigration quota for “people who don’t live here, have never seen an indoor toilet, and rape little girls for sport”? 

Liberals act as if they are striking a blow for feminism by importing desperate women from misogynistic cultures to America. But, even to the extent they’re telling the truth, the women aren’t always victims only. They’re often co-conspirators. […]

Hmong girls in Minnesota are regularly gang raped by Hmong men, but the Hmong community — even the girls’ mothers — blame the rape victims, and the attacks go unreported. These aren’t cultures of strong women and criminal men. It’s more like criminal men and complicit women.

When shitlibs rescue Dirt World women from their Dirt World homelands, they neglect to consider that those Dirt World women give birth to Dirt Worlders, via the magic of reproductive gene transmission, who will recycle their Dirt World attitude and behaviors for generations, absent oppressive levels of miscegenation.

And the stone cunt truth is that in the primitive backward nations of the world, the women share the same suite of genes as their misogynistic men. You can’t remove the women from these cultures and expect them to behave like civilized SWPLs; their blood swims with the misogyny, infanticide, pederasty, rape, and female genital mutilation that evolved with them, and which these women will pass onto the next generation of male babies. And female complicity will likewise be passed on to their daughters, bedeviling policy makers all across the civilized world.

The more we import alien peoples from alien cultures into our homeland, the more stories like this one we’ll hear about (through dissident journalism sources):

In San Francisco, we had the young Indian sex slaves of pederast Lakireddy Bali Reddy testifying on his behalf. Once he was finally busted — not by our fantastic “democracy dies in darkness” mainstream media, but by a local high school newspaper — we found out his child rape victims thought they deserved it. They could not be coaxed to testify against him. Some took the stand on his behalf. They were all given asylum. We didn’t change them; they just moved here, without altering their belief in human slavery or the caste system one iota.

“Democracy dies in darkness” is more true than the Bezos Post would like to believe; the dark hordes streaming outward from their dark cultures will descend like a veil of darkness over the remaining Whiteopia redoubts, killing democracy and replacing it with tribalism, corruption, and the occasional mass murder machete rampage.

Americans are told we have to understand that it’s part of their native cultures. 

Exactly! It’s their culture. We’re not rescuing anybody; we’re bringing in diseased cultures. The alleged refugees don’t float above and apart from their societies. Feminists may see the world as the Boy team versus the Girl team, but in reality, it’s the Civilized team versus the Primitive team. Virtually every woman outside of the First World lives in an abusive society. We can’t take them all in. 

How did violent, backward, misogynistic cultures become our problem? Did we take a vote and agree to be the world’s charity ward?

Or the world’s daycare center.

Genes matter.
Race matters.
Culture matters.

We deny these cosmic truths at our peril.

Democrats who claim to be defenders of the weak, the marginal, and vulnerable are happy to toss our safe, functioning country aside — as long as they can wreck America (and get their housework done at the same time!). The left’s central political philosophy is based on resentment toward historical America.

Very, very close to my term of art “Heritage America“.

Nobody reads Chateau Heartiste…

Posted in Foreign Girls, Goodbye America, The Id Monster, Ugly Truths, Vanity | 58 Comments »

Shiv Of The Week

Jun 28th, 2018 by

woowee that shiv pierced her last egg.

Posted in Shiv Of The Week | 19 Comments »

Rootlessness And Ideological Identification

Jun 27th, 2018 by

Shitlibs more strongly identify along ideological axes. This is why, for instance, they can’t tolerate the company of those with differing world views. (White libchicks are the absolute worst at tolerating those with opposing political views.)

And, although I don’t have confirmatory data at hand, I suspect shitlibs are more likely to wander and become itinerants, always looking for a shiny new city to infest. Personality studies have found that shitlibs tend to be more novelty-seeking, or to put it less charitably they tend to have higher disgust thresholds. This desire for novelty and filth probably contributes to the shitlib “born to run away” compulsion. They just can’t handle too much niceness (read: Whiteness), order, and comfortable functionality. They need to feel distressed. They crave chaos in their lives.

How do I know this? Well, I have been surrounded by shitlibs. I’ve swum in the deepest waters of their subterranean cultures, taking what I wanted from them while leaving behind that which repulsed me. I know them pretty well, tbh, how they tick and what emotional keys are tickled in their hamsterchords.

I bring this up on the heels of the recent exposure of Stephanie Wilkinson, the proprietoress of the Commie Shrew, excuse me, the Red Hen, who hounded Sarah Sanders out of her restaurant and followed her like a psycho down the street screaming libanities at her, as a shitlib vagabond.

The rootlessness of shitlibs is intimately connected to their ideological fence-guarding in a positively reinforcing feedback loop. The shitlib leaves for a strange new locale, loses touch with everyone before her, and finds new friends at work, bar crawls, or expediently through shared housing.

Each move in the shitlib’s life brings more severing of social connections and greater stress finding and stringing together replacement social connections. (Family connections are surrendered for good.) There’s very little organic or authentic thread tying together the nomadic shitlib with her new sets of friends…no common upbringing, no schooling experiences, no history or unique local culture, and most importantly no shared memories which is the most powerful bonding agent.

Into this toxic atomization the one binding agent strong enough to overcome the disintegration of traditional social and family bonds is ideology. A fevered, frantic, hysterical attachment to ideology becomes the substitute for natural bonds, and the shitlib leans on ideological identification — in herself and in those who would be unwittingly auditioning for inclusion in her social circle — to screen for friends who will meet the lowest standard in friendship: someone who won’t irritate her with an opposing viewpoint.

This is why shitlib friendships (and similarly, romantic relationships) in the big blue cities are typically superficial, transient, and transactional: the only common ground is hatred of [X] and how one votes. When ideology is the foundation of friendship, those mystic unspoken bonds of reassuring familiarity get twisted into a grotesque facsimile of affinity, one based on an overweening insistence of ideological compatibility and purity. With nothing else to connect them to each other, the shitlib relies on ideology to shoulder the burden of standing in for the missing authenticity.

And ideology can work, for a while, as a values substitute and proxy for relationship complementarity, to create and maintain relationships (which is why city chicks will stress “shared values” and “Trump voters swipe left” when pole shopping), but woe to the friend who steps out of line one day and utters a deplorable bit of crimethink through the bottom of a cocktail glass. When ideology is the glue, a trivial difference of opinion on a point of order can feel like a gross betrayal.

The problem is a long-run one. Besides the lapses into crimethink, shitlib relationships dissolve easily and perfunctorily with work relocations and life stage changes that demand more social involvement and commitments than simply ideological conformism. The shitlib is bothered by these demands because they throw into stark relief the inauthentic nature of her friendships.

What is evident to the meanly keen observer is that shitlib friendships start to take on the veneer of artifice, fraying at the edges and duct-taped by snark and late nite talk show references. The very fact that shitlibs strive so hard for social authenticity prevents them from ever realizing their goal. They are their own worst frenemies. It’s a variation on the old “if you have try to be cool, you aren’t” aphorism.

De-urbanization and a revitalization of towns and smaller-sized cities geographically dispersed more equitably throughout the country will go a ways to helping shitlibs form real, lasting friendships that can survive the occasional disagreement with a Colbert monologue.

Related:

Posted in Culture, Escape, Relationships, The Big City Life, The Id Monster | 28 Comments »

David French, Double-Talker

Jun 27th, 2018 by

Via:

David French:

Physiognomy: soyed up
Familiognomy: cucked up

What’s a workable portmanteau of double-talker and cuckservative? Doublecuck? Cuckletalker? Self-cuckradictory? Hypocuck? Lying sack of cuck?

As far as I know, French isn’t ((())), so his cucking for (((THE))) foreign power of note is particularly repugnant. He may as well have a corner stool tattooed on his pelican gullet.

Posted in Da Goyim Know, Physiognomy is Real, The Fuggernaut, Tool Time | 42 Comments »

Stinkfist

Jun 27th, 2018 by

One of the greatest tunes (and visually arresting music videos) of the ’90s — Tool’s Stinkfist — uses the symbolism of fist fucking to warn against creeping consumerism in both the material and romantic senses. Stinkfist’s pairing of the vulgar with the transcendental is right in the Chateau wheelhouse. Pure poetry, and possibly a proto-vision of what would later become this blog outpost’s overarching theme.

Knuckle deep inside the borderline.
This may hurt a little but it’s something you’ll get used to.
Relax. Slip away.

There’s something kinda sad about
The way that things have come to be.
Desensitized to everything.
What became of subtlety?

How can this mean anything to me
If I really don’t feel anything at all?

I’ll keep digging
‘Til I feel something.

I bring this up because Tool’s frontman and creative genius, Maynard James Keenan, was recently PoundMeToo’ed by a slutty groupie.

Maynard is as pozzed as any Left Coast musician, but surprisingly he is not on record as an anti-Trumper. The little political stuff he’s said is radically banal, by the standards of his artfag subculture, which means in the current climate of Leftoid Intolerance he stands accused as insufficiently anti-Nazi.

So maybe that’s why he was just MeToo’ed. Or maybe our society is being corrupted by lonely attention whore has-been roadie skanks who upon approaching the long midnight of post-Wall sexual obsolescence decide to spit out totally unverifiable 20-year old sexual assault accusations against famous men to scratch their itch to be vaginally relevant again.

weev has the deets:

actual Maynard quotes:

“Trump is not your enemy”

“We have the privilege to do that because of active and former law enforcement and military, defending our right to do so. Those of you who are law enforcement and military, your job is to defend our right to act like whining, entitled snowflake assholes – myself being one. Snowflakes, your job is to respect them f**king doing that for you.”

Regarldess of these quotes just read the lyrics of “Hooker with a Penis” and “Vicarious” and tell me he’s not our guy.

Maynard is a singular musical genius, unlike any other, and even if he wasn’t now that Neil Peart is retired Danny Carey is objectively the greatest living drummer. Forty Six and Two, The Grudge, Triad, Ticks and Leeches. Listen to the drums in those.

Don’t you think it is pretty likely that baseless impropriety accusations by an anonymous Twitter account getting massive coverage by the (((music journalism))) industry is a direct result of Maynard’s statements in regards to our President?

“I went back to a trailer with a rock star and watched a movie in his bed and we ended up having sex. It was rape.” Seriously, who believes this?

No one who doesn’t have an axe to grind against the expression of normal male (and female) sexuality. And by normal, I mean men are attracted to youth and beauty and women are attracted to power and fame. Put the two together, and sparks fly (which is later retconned as assault by spiteful slores).

I hope this Synchronized MeToo Menstruation will end soon, despite the overwhelming majority of the accused coming from the one group that I despise for their efforts to ruin my homeland under a deluge of Dirt Worlders…

The Bad Hair Brigade

…because the whole media-crafted enterprise reeks of forgotten sluts clamoring to revisit a few seconds of fame to slander and demonize famous men with whom those sluts didn’t have the integrity nor the horniness self-discipline to walk away from when the lay-for-play proposition was put before them.

***

The Judge comments,

Lol “..he rapes in every city”

It’s not enough to have fucked a rockstar. Now you must be raped by one.

There’s something to this cynical take. A couple generations of coke-carved lithe groupies getting banged out by rockstars (which is something of an anomaly in the sweep of human history) has inured the public to the reality of it. Everyone expects it now, so it’s no big deal, for better or worse. How’s a groupiegirl supposed to preen when throwing her legs open for rockstars has lost its cachet? Of course, she says she was raped by a rockstar! It’s not much of an achievement to be a rockstar’s ho-hum Tuesday night strum receptacle, but to arouse the ardor of a rockstar to the raping point? Ladies, that is the stuff of GRRLPOWER.

Posted in Culture, Da Goyim Know, Music, Pretty Lies, Sluts | 26 Comments »

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