Tag: women

Game in the 19th century

Men who seek to better understand the challenge posed by the dichotomy of female attraction could do far worse than to read the works of W. Somerset Maugham. Being of a certain orientation as well as an unusually ruthless observer of human behavior, he had the emotional distance necessary to note some of the unusual and contradictory aspects of female behavior that have confounded so many men over the centuries. His first novel, Liza of Lambeth, is little more than a straightforward portrayal of the instinctive feminine preference for the Alpha; the most desirable young woman on the street, the protagonist Liza, rejects her solid and eminently suitable young suitor, Tom, in favor of a secretive affair with brutish, bearded married man whose children are as old as she is. Tom’s proper and hesitant advances don’t arouse Liza half as much as Jim’s rough, unsolicited kisses; Jim provokes the consumation of their adultery with a punch in the stomach. Needless to say, it doesn’t end well for Liza, as she is physically beaten by Jim’s wife, gets pregnant, and dies of a miscarriage.

A similar, but more sophisticated theme is at work throughout Of Human Bondage, which is an excellent novel worth reading in any event. The unsavory object of Philip Carey’s unstinting devotion, the anemic waitress Mildred, throws him over in favor of a married German man before running off with his impoverished best friend at Carey’s expense. Whereas Tom is a beta by virtue of his youth, Carey is a downright gamma courtesy of his club foot and sensitive intelligence. Carey is a white knight who will not ‘take advantage’ of Mildred even after repeatedly rescuing her from starvation, ill health, and prostitution; she is openly contemptuous of him throughout their entire relationship before finally leaving him in a violent and destructive rage when, in his noble refusal to abuse his position as her rescuer, he resolutely refuses to take her to his bed. The story finally ends well for Carey, but only thanks to his class superiority providing him with sufficient perceived status to attract a handsome, loving, young quasi-peasant girl. And even with her, he comes very close to ruining his happy ending by his persistent gammaesque noblesse. To marry the girl in order to rescue her from social opprobation is a responsibility he willingly accepts, but he finds it very hard to accept the idea of marrying her simply because he wants to do so.

But Maugham’s prescient explication of Game is most explicit in The Magician, in which the beautiful fiance of a young and brilliant physician is seduced away from him by the grotesque figure of the Aleister Crowley character, Oliver Haddo.

Her contempt for him, her utter loathing, were alloyed with a feeling that aroused in her horror and dismay. She could not get the man out of her thoughts. All that he had said, all that she had seen, seemed, as though it possessed a power of material growth, unaccountably to absorb her. It was as if a rank weed were planted in her heart and slid long poisonous tentacles down every artery, so that each part of her body was enmeshed. Work could not distract her, conversation, exercise, art, left her listless; and between her and all the actions of life stood the flamboyant, bulky form of Oliver Haddo. She was terrified of him now as never before, but curiously had no longer the physical repulsion which hitherto had mastered all other feelings. Although she repeated to herself that she wanted never to see him again, Margaret could scarcely resist an overwhelming desire to go to him. Her will had been taken from her, and she was an automaton. She struggled, like a bird in the fowler’s net with useless beating of the wings; but at the bottom of her heart she was dimly conscious that she did not want to resist. If he had given her that address, it was because he knew she would use it. She did not know why she wanted to go to him; she had nothing to say to him; she knew only that it was necessary to go….

It seemed to her that a comparison was drawn for her attention between the narrow round which awaited her as Arthur’s wife and this fair, full existence. She shuddered to think of the dull house in Harley Street and the insignificance of its humdrum duties. But it was possible for her also to enjoy the wonder of the world. Her soul yearned for a beauty that the commonalty of men did not know. And what devil suggested, a warp as it were in the woof of Oliver’s speech, that her exquisite loveliness gave her the right to devote herself to the great art of living? She felt a sudden desire for perilous adventures. As though fire passed through her, she sprang to her feet and stood with panting bosom, her flashing eyes bright with the multi-coloured pictures that his magic presented. Oliver Haddo stood too, and they faced one another. Then, on a sudden, she knew what the passion was that consumed her. With a quick movement, his eyes more than ever strangely staring, he took her in his arms, and he kissed her lips. She surrendered herself to him voluptuously. Her whole body burned with the ecstasy of his embrace.

‘I think I love you,’ she said, hoarsely.

She looked at him. She did not feel ashamed.

Now, there are certainly women who master this primal urge for excitement, mystery and perception of male power, who exert their rational faculties and succeed in choosing their lovers utilizing at least some degree of reason rather than simply trusting to the vagaries of instinct. But that does not mean that the primal urge does not exist in them, or that it is not there to be appealed to by men who recognize it and knowingly manipulate it or by men whose natural behavior tends to stimulate it. Awareness of this dichotomy of female attraction is useful knowledge for men and women alike, since the woman who is aware of it is less likely to find herself being swept away unconsciously by it, and the man who is aware of it can either use it to avoid behaving in a manner that provokes instinctive disgust in women or to behave in a manner that permits manipulation of those instincts.

One thing I’m curious to know is how many women are fully cognizant of this call of the wild while simultaneously rejecting it. Do those who reject it tend to knowingly do so or is it more of an unconscious rejection that is the result of positive social conditioning? I’m really not interested in hearing what women who completely deny it exists and profess an instinctive preference for white knights and gammas have to say, since there isn’t much to be learned from the opinions of the self-deceptive.

The next female ghetto

Broadway is all but dead. Television ratings continue to decline. Fantasy literature is increasingly indistinguishable from camp parody. University degrees cost more and are worth less than ever before. But since I generally despise Hollywood and the trivial medium of film, I can only regard the news that women now make up the majority of moviegoers and ticket buyers as great news.

Yes, folks — women go to the movies more than men do…. Another line that I want to bury for good is that young men go to the movies more than anyone else. That’s just bullshit. Younger men don’t go to the movies more than younger women. Younger people in general go to the movies more, but based on the MPAA numbers of frequent moviegoers (ones who go more than once a month) in the coveted demographic of 18-24, women make up 3.4 million filmgoers while men make up 3.1 million. Suck on that Hollywood!

This development, even more than big high-definition flatscreens and digital piracy, will marginalize the film industry. From church pews to college lectures, once women become the majority and quite reasonably have their preferences catered to, men are driven away. And it’s a cautionary tale to game publishers who have been hearing the siren song of “the female gamer” for fifteen years now.

It’s really not that difficult. Women are more open to male entertainment than men are open to female entertainment. A woman might not go see Star Wars 20 times, but she won’t mind seeing it once or twice. A man, or at least a straight man, would rather slash his hand with 20 papercuts before rolling it in salt than go to see the Sex In The City movie even once. So, as incredible as it sounds, we can expect the movies to be further dumbed down from what is an already abysmal level.

Needless to say, this transition point suggests that fantasy sports, MMOs and games with episodic content are only going to get bigger. And it also may explain why the bottom dropped completely out of games with movie tie-ins last year.

And they wonder why we laugh

No woman who is incapable of figuring out that Time always outruns Beauty in the end can reasonably be considered intelligent. Consider Elizabeth Wurtzel’s lament that while beauty fades, loneliness lasts:

When I was still in my twenties, for several years I had this wonderful boyfriend; I’ll call him Gregg—he’s the one we’re all waiting for: tall, blue-eyed, with this thick black hair, all smart and sensitive, an inveterate graduate student who used to rub my feet at the end of the day with a lovely pink peppermint lotion from the Body Shop. It was young and romantic. You’d have thought we were happy. I think really we were happy. He was good for me: People met him and liked me better because I was going out with him; his sweetness redounded to me like a sunny day on a dark sidewalk. I could have and probably should have spent the rest of my life with him…. I became seasick with contentment. It was nauseating daily, and I couldn’t still myself against a funny feeling that there had to be more to life than waking up every day beside the same person. To say I was bored would be to misunderstand boredom: I did not need to take up table tennis or ballroom dancing—I needed a sense that this wasn’t the end of the story. The idea of forever with any single person, even someone great whom I loved so much like Gregg, really did seem like what death actually is: a permanent stop….

Age is a terrible avenger. The lessons of life give you so much to work with, but by the time you’ve got all this great wisdom, you don’t get to be young anymore. And in this world, that’s just about the worst thing that can happen—especially to a woman. Whoever said youth is wasted on the young actually got it wrong; it’s more that maturity is wasted on the old.

The single most amusing thing about the women of modernity is that in their pursuit of finding happiness through imitating masculinity, they have forgotten that most basic of market principle: buy low, sell high. Time is not cruel, but it is both indifferent and inexorable. In almost every circumstance, the women that I have seen turn down good men of suitable quality who wanted to marry them in their early and middle twenties wound up settling for lower quality men in their late twenties and thirties. And they are the fortunate and happy ones; those who are still unmarried and childless in their early forties are nearly all full of regrets for the various opportunities they either rejected or simply allowed to pass them by.

The root problem seems to be that women are horrifically bad at anticipating what they are going to want in the future. The usual female pattern proceeds thusly: In her teens, a woman wants to focus on her education and having fun through a series of practice relationships. Her main concern is actually how much admiration she generates from men and her concomitant status among women. In her early to middle twenties, she wants to focus on her job and having fun through sampling a variety of penises; her main concern is actually not getting tied down to any commitments, professional or personal. In both stages A and B, she will swear up and down that she doesn’t ever want to have children for some nonsensical reason or another, although she is open to getting married someday off in the distant and nebulous future.

Stage C begins when her friends start getting engaged, usually in her late-twenties. Then she decides that she might be “okay” with one or two children and begins a desultory search for a marriageable man. However, this search is usually interrupted by a series of disastrous affairs with various Alphas, bad boys, and marriage-allergic men. She often talks about how confused she is and has no coherent focus; her main concern is to maintain her social equivalency with her female friends. At this point, the smarter women settle down and get married to the best available man since their marriage value is still high enough that they can attract a man of reasonable quality. The more foolish women convince themselves that they are even more attractive than they were in their early twenties due to their educations and careers and decide they have another decade before they “have to settle”.

Stage D is the early to middle thirties. A detectable edge of desperation begins to set in; you will seldom talk to a woman in her thirties who does not bring up science out of the blue and and ramble on about how it will allow her to have children in her forties. She is often in total denial about the decline in her market value and often wastes years dating higher quality men who are not actually on the marriage market. Her focus is now getting married as soon as possible so she can still have children, however, her inability to properly value herself causes her to pass over the sort of men who are actually willing to settle for her.

Elizabeth Wurtzel is in stage E. She is past her prime, she knows she is past it, and she is now regretting the potential husband she foolishly threw away in stage C. Her focus is now on finding a husband, although she knows it is probably too late for children. She appears destined to be a Stage F failure, also known as a Companion to Many Cats. This is not a worthless societal role, or necessarily an undignified one, but it is not one that most young women in their teens dream about.

The basic problem of female self-valuation is compounded by the challenge posed by the male Madonna-Whore division. What is attractive to a man on a short term basis is not necessarily attractive to a man on a long term basis. I would estimate that a woman can expect to regularly attract men who are two points higher in Whore mode than she can in Madonna mode. If you’re a 20 year-old seven who regularly has flings with men you rate as eights and nines, you should actively look for marriage material among the men you would rate as fives to sevens. This will significantly increase your chances of long term success; remember that in 15 years you are going to be a five, not a seven, while that five that you find barely attractive now has the potential to move up to a six or even a seven on the scale due to the way women value financial success and social substance over physical looks.

There are always outliers, of course. And the progression I describe obviously doesn’t apply to all women. There are even a few lucky women who are more attractive in Stage C than in Stage A or B. But in general, a woman will be well served by applying the buy low, sell high principle and marrying a man who is between five and ten years older before she reaches the age of 25. And above all, remember that what you think you will want in ten years is almost surely not what you will actually want in ten years and that drama is much more entertaining on television than it is in real life.

And this comment really says it all: “I was shocked at my visceral response to reading this column. I cried uncontrollably. I’m tearing up as I type this comment. There are so many reasons why Elizabeth’s story had such an effect on me…. I spent my entire life working towards my career and then lost it in the blink of an eye. Meanwhile, men were basically play things coming in and out of my life. (Think Samantha; Sex and the City.) I was never the relationship type. My longest relationship lasted a year during my junior year of college. That was 20 years ago. Now, I’ll be 40 in July.”

Yes, I’m not ashamed to admit it. I laughed, I did.

Murdering girls for women’s rights

As I have said many times before, calling a feminist a feminazi is an insult to the German National Socialist Worker’s Party. Abortion is a global human holocaust that dwarfs the scale of the Endlosung by an order of magnitude, and it is a predominantly anti-female holocaust.

According to CASS, China in 2020 will have 30m-40m more men of this age than young women. For comparison, there are 23m boys below the age of 20 in Germany, France and Britain combined and around 40m American boys and young men…. And, as is becoming clear, the war against baby girls is not confined to China.

Parts of India have sex ratios as skewed as anything in its northern neighbour. Other East Asian countries—South Korea, Singapore and Taiwan—have peculiarly high numbers of male births. So, since the collapse of the Soviet Union, have former communist countries in the Caucasus and the western Balkans. Even subsets of America’s population are following suit, though not the population as a whole.

Abortion simply must to be banned for what it is and has always been, first-degree murder. The feminist fall-back position, protecting a woman’s right to choose so long as she chooses in an approved manner, is not only a moral monstrosity, it is a logical absurdity.

I am often falsely accused of being misogynistic because I point out the readily apparent economic and societal infelicities of the modern mythology of sexual equality as well as the way the American legal system abuses men, particularly fathers. But if I genuinely hated women, then surely I would celebrate the ongoing destruction of millions of baby girls instead of opposing it so vociferously. And it is eminently fair to ask, in return, how anyone can reasonably be considered a supporter of women’s rights when they are in favor of permitting literally millions of baby girls to be put to death around the globe.

It’s not worth it, gamma males

Stay away from strong, independentpsycho women:

A 45-year-old woman, charged with ending a domestic dispute by killing her 26-year-old husband of five days, is a registered lobbyist for a group fighting domestic violence.

Oh, the irony… anyhow, sexbots are not only better than middle-aged feminists, they’re safer.

It’s never enough

Once more, a woman attempts to shame men into not responding rationally to consequences of female actions:

There is a message to be delivered to men, and it may not be popular. We hear a lot about the injustices visited on fathers over divorce and access: for the record, I am largely on their side and dislike the thoughtless and sentimental favouring of mothers in residency disputes. We also hear a bit about the flailing ineffectiveness of the former Child Support Agency. What we do not often hear is the bald, uncompromising truth that if you father a child, you set up a non-negotiable duty.

Sorry, men, but it really is so. We may live in a shag-happy porno culture, where flings and “hotties” and zipless one-nighters are seen as the norm; we may be liberal about divorce, stepfamilies and serial cohabitation. Some of this is good, some of it bad. But none of it negates biology, or the entry-level ethical fact that when a sexual act creates a human child, that child is as much of a moral burden to its father as to its mother. Unless it is a matter of sperm donation or formal adoption with a clear contract, the man has, at the very least, a duty to monitor the child’s physical safety.

This is absolutely and utterly false under the current legal regime. It is totally unconscionable to claim that men who have been forcibly stripped of their paternal rights by the unilateral decision of the mother supported by the anti-paternal legal system have any duty whatsoever to the children that have been taken away from them. If it is the man’s decision to leave the family, then yes, his paternal responsibilities remain intact. If he fathers a child unintentionally his paternal responsibilities remain, barring the commission of intentional fraud on the part of the mother.

But if his paternal responsibilities have been stripped from him by the unholy alliance of ex-spouse and state, if he has been threatened with the full force of the law if he so much as attempts to contact them without the permission of the mother, then the onus for the children’s well-being lies with those who have assumed the full responsibility for it. It is absurd to write, as this woman does, that “men who turn aside from this duty should be looked at askance, stigmatised as dishonest weaklings.” The fact is that men who do not turn aside from this “duty” under these circumstances and this system are doing nothing more than enabling it. The writer’s real agenda is revealed in this sentence.

“Most mothers do their best but some are weak, depressed, drugged, or just lovelorn and intimidated by violent boyfriends.”

In other words, it’s the same old line that is based upon the underlying assumption that because women are children who can’t be held responsible for their actions, every female failing must ultimately be blamed on men. Clearly the logical solution is beyond her, which is to stop permitting mothers to unilaterally exclude fathers from the lives of their children. The concept is really not that hard to understand. Assuming that one considers the rule of law to be legitimate, once a man has been stripped of his status as a father by other parties, he no longer has any paternal responsibilities. They have been assumed by the parties that stripped it from him.

Sexbots > rainbow-striped unicorns

This was the attempted rebuttal of one Roissy reader, presumably female, to his warning of sexbots on the technological horizon:

A sexbot won’t be your cook, cleaner, masseuse, secretary, arm candy, and public sex kinky bitch. She won’t be social with you, won’t laugh at your jokes, won’t adore you madly, and won’t make you feel alive and fulfilled.

Well, that should certainly end the silly notion that a Victoria’s Secret sexbot line might harbor some appeal to men. Everyone knows that romance has far more appeal to men than a combination of sex and cutting edge technology, right? One wonders if this individual has ever talked to a real man or woman.

I imagine more than a few men read that and immediately thought “On the other hand, she also won’t be my surrogate mother, thought police, social fuhrer, and ISO 9000 examiner. She won’t prefer TV to sex, won’t glare at me when I am insufficiently obedient to her momentary whims, won’t disrespect me, and won’t make me feel as if at any moment I am going to lose half of everything I have ever worked for.”

Some men are certainly fortunate enough to be married to beautiful women who love them and treat them well. However, I very much doubt that describes most men, especially the betas and gammas. And the simple fact is that men have no intention of trying to bitch, complain, and nag society into changing to accommodate their preferences, instead they are going to do what they always do and quietly go about finding a more acceptable solution. I’m just hoping that the technologists get those artifical wombs working before the sexbots are perfected, otherwise it is certain that it is the technophobic who will inherit the Earth.

There are very few equity investments I would advise making in this economy. AI-controlled sexbots, preferably with a solar-powered option, is definitely one of them.

The cougars strike back

Since no one wants to marry forty-something women, a solution has been provided. Ban the competition!

How far out of touch with reality are women legislators anyway? That’s exactly the question being asked by citizens (women and men) regarding a proposed bill in the Maryland General Assembly, that would restrict men’s rights to use dating sites to meet foreign women and will likely spur copycat legislation in other states.

Delegate Jeannie Haddaway-Riccio, Vice President of the women’s caucus is leading 35 other delegates (all women) on a campaign for passage of HB 65, that would shockingly require Maryland men to submit their fingerprints and other background information before they can initiate communication with a foreign woman if they use an “International Marriage Broker”.

Frankly, I don’t see why they’re starting with what can’t even reasonably be described as half-measures. This is pathetically insufficient! What is the point of only making it vaguely difficult for Maryland men to talk to foreign women? Obviously the law should forbid men to date or even talk to any woman without a license specifying what strata of women is permissible for them to have contact. These strata would be set on an annual basis by a panel of women and each community would have its own panel of judges who would interview every male individual over the age of 16 decide what license would be assigned to him. Licenses would require renewal every five years, they would be color coded, and the licensed man would be required to produce it upon the request of any adult woman. And no contact of any kind with foreign women will be permitted at any time; a first violation will result in a fine, the second in the loss of a man’s license.*

The insane thing is that at least half the women who will read this will find themselves thinking, “you know, a system like that really would make society a much better place.” But they’re not fascists. No, not even a little bit. They’re just strong, independent, beautiful, intelligent snowflakes who care too much about the planet to permit those bestial American men to oppress and abuse foreign women too.

* Yes, there is an obvious logical flaw in this plan. But keep in mind that it wouldn’t be proper central planning if the legislation didn’t autodefeat its primary justification.

Just friends

Happy Valentine’s Day! This hs to be one of the great radio live calls of all time. The woman’s cri de coeur is hilarious.

“What kind of people are you?”

Even an award-winning cruelty artist has no choice but to take off his hat to the hosts. They played it PERFECTLY.

Tucker Max and the fall of the West

Charlotte Allen writes a remarkably clear-eyed article on the evolution of Game and its social significance for American civilization:

[I]t’s a fair signal of impending social chaos when the prevailing female attitude is dissatisfaction, either mild or intense, with the workaday Joes—the good-provider beta males—whom one has already married or, in the era before the sexual and feminist revolutions, would be planning to marry because chasing alphas in bars was not a respectable option for the female middle class.

One would have to be either blind or socially autistic to fail to see the signs of economic, moral, and structural disintegration at this point. Which leads one to the obvious question: where is our Juvenal?

That there are such things as Manes, and kingdoms below ground, and punt-poles, and Stygian pools black with frogs, and all those thousands crossing over in a single bark—-these things not even boys believe, except such as have not yet had their penny bath. But just imagine them to be true—-what would Curius and the two Scipios think? or Fabricius and the spirit of Camillus? What would the legion that fought at the Cremera think, or the young manhood that fell at Cannae; what would all those gallant hearts feel when a shade of this sort came down to them from here? They would wish to be purified; if only sulphur and torches and damp laurel-branches were to be had. Such is the degradation to which we have come!