Friday 31 July 2015

So Much To Do

Sitting in the smoko room at work.

The girls blabbering in the background.

Crazy-eyed fat twat: "I enjoyed living in Melbourne. There's so much to do there!"

Yes, the blather of the ADD-addled child. Jumping from one thing to the next. In conversation, in work, in life.

That's probably a part of why she moved from Australia back to New Zealand. To follow her boyfriend. Funny, she ain't married yet - and she's been working there for two-three years.

By her fatness you can guess her favorite pastime while in Melbourne.

Entertain meeeee!

Wednesday 29 July 2015

So Much Fail

Commentor Mindstorm links to an interesting thread:
I took the liberty to link your declaration "What is MGTOW?" in a debate with someone badmouthing MGTOW as the secular equivalent of Shakers here: 
http://www.xenosystems.net/chaos-patch-72/
Which is all good. The copyright on this blog is: "Just fucking use it, don't be so fucking PC!" Which of course opens me up wide to plagiarism and people making money off of stolen content and suchlike, but what the fuck what the fuck. Hopefully some of the thoughts and sentiments make sense to those who read them, whether they paid for 'em or not.

Any rate. I'm going to quote a comment (which was in reply to that dumbass twat named DifferentTree) and dig into it a little, use it to expose some of the MGTOW thinking - and the why of why we happen to think in this way:
Your comparison to MGTOW is a pretty good one, but I’m seeing something more depressing in MGTOW in that its a kind of totalistic defeatism which skews history to an extreme pessimism for men. Mention bringing back patriarchy to a MGTOW and they will respond that even patriarchy is pseudo-slavery to women. Thus men must become like Shakers I guess and live in the wilderness crying about how there is no possible society which doesn’t suck for them. This is extremely unhealthy and thankfully many in the Manosphere are calling this out for what it is. MGTOW are the Shakers of the Manosphere.
You really do need to read The Fate of Empires by Sir John Glubb. It's free, it's worth the reading, and - when you think about it - you will begin to see that the West (more specifically, America) is in the final, waning years of Empire. (Counting from the Declaration of Independence in 1776, America is *just about* in the final decade of the 10-generation/250-year lifespan of your typical Empire.)

Now to cherrypick and refute points.

*Skews history to an extreme pessimism for men* - there are so many reasons for this. Basic cost-benefit analysis shows that modern marriage and women are not really worth the effort. Add to that the high chances of divorce in the modern Marriage 2.0 market, plus concomitant loss of both freedom and income. Also, read The Fate of Empires - the decline period is marked by such pessimism.

*Mention bringing back patriachy to a MGTOW and they will respond that even patriarchy is pseudo-slavery to women* - true, MGTOW will definitely say this. Because it is very much a true statement. Marriage is a huge sacrifice for men. To get men to marry, there must be something worthwhile for them in their opinion.

Unless they've been brainwashed, they aren't gonna do it for someone else out of the goodness of their heart. Brainwashing someone, lying to someone, to lure or force them into a situation where they are compelled to cater to someone else's every whim for the rest of their life is nastiness (should I call it evil?) of a high order.

Thus the "slavery" comment is both relevant and true. I will go out on a limb and state that it is worse than old-time slavery because it is covert rather than being overt. Only doublethink can explain how these people are capable of lying to themselves in such a manner. I'm giving them the benefit of assuming they are lying to themselves, and are not simply paying lip-service for their own ends.

So certain men aren't just gonna say "yeah sure bring back patriarchy and I will marry those high-quality sluts with the thousand-cock stare who have taken 500 miles of cock". Which most likely means changing to some form of social construct - whether old-style patriarchy or something else - which is very simple and clear-cut, not going to be retroactively changed, and actually gives to men a hell of a lot of value to them in a manner that can never be taken away from them.

In a manner which they will believe.

Else they just won't do it.

Maybe I'm crazy for thinking this way. I have an overwelming urge to say "no duh, fuckwit" when I say things like: "In a manner which they will believe." and "Else they just won't do it." Like, d'oh! Why would they!

Would you cut your foot off because someone asked you to? Would you cut your heart out because someone asked you to? Would you hand someone half-plus of your accumulated assets and a good chunk of your income for the rest of your life because they asked you to? Does it matter if it's a man or woman doing the asking? D'oh! Why would you!
*live in the wilderness crying about how there is no possible society which doesn't suck for them* - a true enough statement in a limited way. Because most men are realistic enough to see that they're not going to be getting anything other than the short stick for a helluva long time in the current social environment. Over 50% of the voters are female, over 50% of the men in this world are brainwashed to always kiss teh wimminz ass.

That's over 75% of people in the world who will automatically vote for more bennies for teh wimminz and less bennies for teh eeeevil menz. The spirit of Benedict Arnold lives on. You poor sons of bitches in the MRA movement really don't have much chance of changing things. Good luck trying, though. I give you kudo's for the effort, even when I think you're kinda crackers.

*extremely unhealthy* - if you're only looking at the surface (include the quote above, too). On a deeper level we expose our experiences as a warning for other men who have not yet slipped up by marrying a poor choice of subpar woman. So here's a question: do you have another (sensible) option for passing this accumulated (modern) wisdom on?

Because sure as shit, the various churches have fallen down on the job of passing on the Wisdom of Ages to their parishioners. Which is why many of the religion-focused blogs themselves call modern churches "churchianity" - their function has been twisted around to help teh wimminz, in an effort to regain and retain numbers.

*MGTOW are the Shakers of the Manosphere* - interesting. Is this another "MGTOW are loser neckbeards who can't get laid" mentality? Mindstorm already pointed him to the final answer, though.

So much fail.

In some ways I get kinda amused when someone badmouths MGTOW. They seem incapable of grasping that men can make a wholly-rational cost-benefit analysis - and act upon it. That's why some of them seem to reflexively pull out what amounts to "you're just emo losers" shaming language, with a lack of self-awareness which is breathtaking.

Or is this simply that they haven't really thought it through? They're still running on the Blue Pill script that society forced down their throats, instead of taking a long/hard/painful look at reality?

The difference between marriage with a poorly-chosen or subpar woman and the lottery is that you *might* actually win the lottery. Pardon me for not buying lottery tickets: I know the odds far too well to think of it as a sure-fire road to wealth.
Yeah. Very lucky. Cash that looks-ticket in, chicky-babe. Those lips look like they've been wrapped around 100+ cocks. We know the score.

Certainly, many MGTOW would say straight out "patriarchy is still slavery for the man". Because it's true. So: do you have another option? One which doesn't involve manning up and marrying a Dubai Porta Potty, to be cuckolded at whim and frivorce-raped later on in life? Or doesn't that really register, because it only happens to other men?

(Would you cry if you found out that it had happened to you? I have been buried balls-deep in a woman's asshole within half an hour of meeting her - a woman who turned out to be married. Was she your wife? Would it bother you if she was? Do you like the thought of bringing up some thug man's children? Do you like the thought of being cuckolded?)

So.

Yes, in the old days a Man might decide to wife up some soiled dove (I forget where I read about it happening - IIRC it used to be in the Wild West/frontier). He got a lot out of that relationship, his soiled dove had to bring a lot more to the table than the average woman, because she knew that she was used-up shit and he would tolerate less. So he wouldn't do it without some huge gain (no duh!) because it's far easier and cheaper for him to simply go for a variety of young prostitutes.

But then, we already know that society considers the Dubai Porta Potties and Miriam Week's aka Belle Starr's and Debbie Does Dallas (go Bambi!) and various other sluts of their ilk to be wonderful paragons of female worth.

(How about Lisa Sparxxx, the porn "actress" who holds the World Gangbang Record of 919 guys in the same day? According to Wikipedia she's married - guess her hubby likes being cuckolded! Do you like the idea of having the "honor" of being the 920th guy to fuck your girlfriend or wife? Though in her case it's probably close to the 2,000-mark for men in that pussy.)

Fuck that shit.

To Hell with the degeneracy of the last days of our Empire.

To Hell with these unthinking morons who give you shit for using your brains.

Point them at the truth and then walk away.

Go out and live.

Monday 27 July 2015

We Have Forgotten

We live in a time of spite and discord.

I'm reminded of a few words from The Fate of Empires, by Sir John Glubb:
"Britain has been governed by an elected parliament for many centuries. In former years, however, the rival parties observed many unwritten laws. Neither party wished to eliminate the other. All the members referred to one another as honourable gentlemen. 
But such courtesies have now lapsed.
Booing, shouting, and loud noises are undermined the dignity of the House, and angry exchanges are more frequent. We are fortunate if these rivalries are fought out in Parliament, but sometimes such hatreds are carried into the streets, or into industry in the form of strikes, demonstrations, boycotts and similar activities.
True to the normal course followed by nations in decline, internal differences are not reconciled in an attempt to save the nation. On the contrary, internal rivalries become more acute, as the nation becomes weaker."
We become weaker.

In the old days, we trusted those above us. They had a position, with that position came responsibilities. Responsibilities towards all, for the good of all (them too, of course).

Now, everything is abused and abusive. Spite reigns. Discord is everywhere.

Those who think themselves above, disdainfully abuse those they think are below.

The knives come out and slice into the backs of anyone handy. Generally just for fun.

We have forgotten. With power comes responsibility. The greater the power, the greater the corresponding responsibility.

Power corrupts, yes. Yet still, the responsibility was known and acknowledged and generally followed. "Use it. Abuse it even. Just let me see you doing something with it."

These days it is honored more in the breach.

These days it is abuse which is rampant - responsibility is nowhere to be seen - and everyone is waking up to the lies they've been told all their lives.

The trust in those with power to be responsible with it -

Gone.

As the belief and obedience to the structures which created Western society are eroded away by the greedy and uncaring, abusing their power for fun and avoiding their responsibilities. At the same time, telling others that they need to step up and do their bit, while studiously avoiding doing their part.

Until the general consensus becomes: "Pull the other one, it's got bells on." As it all falls down.

Sunday 19 July 2015

Quit Being Stupid

Here's the thing: Men fix shit fast. Women look stupidly at it.

When a problem comes up, he looks at it for maybe two seconds - fixes it - then fucks off and does the next thing.

When a problem comes up, she looks at it for maybe fifty years - whines about it - and then wonders where the fuckin' Men are.

It's retarded. It's retarded how these idiot women semi-think/talk/whinge, and - worse! - it's retarded how we Men keep going back to tell the stupid cunt what reality is. Especially when reality is that it's been fixed.

Only to have her think/talk/whinge about it - again, over and over! - plus adding us into the mix of retarded whining. Because it goes in one ear and out the other. There's nothing in between for it to stick to.

I'm done.

More: we're done.

Fuck it.

You go ahead and keep emoting.
It's not about the nail?

Wrong.

It is about the nail. In ad-fucking-nauseum fucking obsessive fucking detail. With fucking commentary, fucking subtext, and a fucking shit-sandwich thrown in on top of it.

Quit being stupid, cunt. We already fixed the problem. You're still obsessing over it, yet it's done, fixed, finished, time to move on.

Not for you though. You don't believe it's fixed - because we fixed it so fast that you didn't notice. So you say we're clueless about it. Whatever "it" might be.

No. We fixed it. You're clueless.

And now, I'm done. We're done. We're all done.

Maybe in a couple thousand years, you'll get a clue. Unlikely though. You're too fucking retarded and bull-headed stupid.

You'll never make any sense. You can't. It's not in you. So we'll leave you to go deal with your drivel and stupidity by your ownself.

When you start asking: "Where did all the Men go? Where are all the good guys?"

The manosphere normally says things like: "You left them back in your teens and twenties."

I've come to realize that this is wrong. Nope. You drove them away. With your moronic stupidity.

We have better things to do now. I'd wish you good luck - but fuck it, you don't deserve good luck.

Because you have always - and will always - keep pissing all good will away.

Brought to you by Crap Colored Glasses™, only $1k the pair and cheap at 10x the price.

Not That Entertaining

Not just the dipshits with an agenda in the crap-o-sphere right now - though they're pretty fuckin' uninteresting.

Women too.

Here's a man who says it a fuckload better'n I have.
Yup. Now where's my fuckin' potato salad, you one-trick pony.

None Of Their Business

I've been vaguely thinking about the bullshit shaming tactics going on in certain segments of the Manosphere. (I get the feeling that these tactics will basically split up and destroy the Manosphere - because they're divisive by nature with those who take the time to truly think about things - however, that's an entirely different post.)

We've already basically worked out that in many cases, it's because they (the shamers) are attempting to add to their demographic. People who listen to them, people who buy their stuff, loyal fanboi's, narcissistic ego enhancement - crap like that.

All rife everywhere in life and the world, of course.

They're trying to build a gang (or herd) of their own. Thus they troll/shame others - both newcomers and long-established - within the Manosphere. They use the standard categories of female-style shaming tactics to try and shame these others into thinking and acting the way that they desire.

Like that's gonna do much with regards to the truly independent thinkers.

So here is something that might help you in dealing with these fuckwits. Ask them this simple question (directly, or in your mind): What the hell business of yours is it, what I do?

Reality is: It's none of their fuckin' business.

You are totally free to do or not do whatever you fuckin' desire in life.

Never mind what someone else thinks. Preferably without some pig with an agenda attempting to shame you for it. So long as you're prepared to deal with the consequences like an adult.

(For example, dealing drugs is generally frowned upon by society and civilization - you might get killed by the competition - you'll probably get chucked in jail if you're caught - but that's your fuckin' lookout. That's your business. That's your responsibility. Own the consequences of whatever you do.)

Of course, there are a billion-plus people in this world who would rather that you follow the script that they follow. They're too brainwashed to know better. (Plus a lot of them feel like they're bad people if you're doing better'n them - so they'll try to cut you down - tall poppy syndrome lives everywhere!)

There's another billion-plus people in this world who want you to follow the script of their devising. One that fills their pockets. (I'm not just talking women wanting you to do stuff for their benefit - I'm also talking the people who design-and-make the river of shit "stuff" which they try to brainwash you into believing that you "can't live without".)

Both are bullshit.

You probably need to be one of the few people who thinks for themselves - decides for themselves - chooses their lives for themselves - and hey, if you want to buy into some parts of other people's scripts, that's your business.

If making a good chunk of money to enjoy a good life is you, go for it.

If starving the government beast and sucking off the public teat is you, go for it.

If going completely ghost and avoiding society is you, go for it.

If you want to be reasonably independent and not getting screwed over or screwed around by others, you need to do your own thinking and make your own choices. Then stick with them. You don't have to tell anyone else - it's not their business - it's yours alone.

Always remember: these fucker's have an agenda. One that's for their benefit, most likely not for yours - and most likely at your expense.

Wednesday 15 July 2015

Gay Divorce And Spousal Support - Didn't Take Long

Back when on this post "So Gays Can Marry Legally in the USA", I asked a simple question:
I do wonder if the LGBTQBDSM-whatever brigade have a clue as to what they've really let themselves in for. Studies show that breakups are even more common in their sector of society, moreso in the situation of lesbian relationships. 
Which brings up a superficially-amusing thought: in the case of frivorce, which one is the woman who gets alimony from her partner? [Emphasis mine. - BPS]
We are now looking to have an answer soon - and it took only 3 WEEKS to get to this situation: Glory Johnson seeks $20K a month in spousal support from Brittney Griner
After getting dumped by Brittney Griner, Glory Johnson is now looking to get paid. 
The jilted wife of the WNBA superstar, who last month filed to annul their 28-day marriage, wants $20,000 a month in temporary spousal support and an additional $10,000 in attorney fees, according to court documents presented on June 29 in Maricopa County, Arizona.
I guess you might call this a "pump'n'dump".

Like we couldn't see that coming. Fucking dipshits.

Amusingly, the whole "gay marriage is legal" thing came out about 3 weeks ago. It took 1 week for someone to decide to see how much $$$ she could get from her "wife".

As a mate said: "Do we flip a coin to see which one's the man?"

HAHAHAHAHAHAHHHHH!!!!!!

Tuesday 14 July 2015

Blathering

It's come to that point again, where I feel that I have little to say.

I suppose that it's inevitable. As an introvert, an ISTJ, it's hard to get me to talk. When I do talk, it's hard to get me to shut my fuckin' mouth. Random associations blurted out.

I "talk" more on this blog than I do in real life. Far more. Unless I'm around people (usually at work) the most that I might say is "ouch".

Here the blather comes out, articulate, inarticulate, shallow as a puddle, deep as I can bear to look down the sewer-hole at any particular point in time. Narrowly focused, as per this blog and the manosphere as a whole.

It must make me seem one-dimensional.

People.

People I have known - run across - in my life come to mind. Not just women. Men. Boys. People who killed themselves. People with premonitions of their own death. People who lived in a bubble where nothing nasty seemed to happen to them.

Abusers. Rapists. The vicious and violent. Funny, school had worse teachers than many of the so-called criminal types that I grew up with. The Holy Roman Catholic Priest who had his sexual fun with the little boys of his parish. Thank goodness that I was an ugly kid.

Ex-wife. Dancers. Sluts. Girls down for a good time, not a long time. Mouthing off with their bullshit for forever and a day. Entertaining prattle, pretentious prating.

On the whole, most people have not been that uplifting. Some people are very interesting - most bland, boring, dull, empty. My most interesting recent person - an old man who belongs to the New Zealand Black Powder Club. They own and shoot black-powder weapons: flintlocks, percussion, etc. He has old shotguns, Kentucky rifles, that sort of thing. Even casts his own bullets, seen here in my hand.
The small one is 405 grains, the large one 500 grains. The small one is munted because he was testing it for depth inside a shell and couldn't get it the hell out - it took pliers. These are pure lead. Lead buckshot, don't go over 900 fps or the stuff tends to melt into a blob. Interesting stuff.

Places.

The beach. Nature. Lazing on the grass in the sunlight. Playing in the bamboo and toitoi. Hiking. Fireplace and Grand Marnier in winter. Wildlife. Birds, deer, goats, possums. Hunting. Caves. Abandoned places. Peculiar stones and rocks, pieces of greenstone, finding an old maori adze head as a child. Looking out over miles of bush or beach or sea.

On the whole, places and nature have always been far more uplifting to me. More relaxing. Don't have to watch myself - always something that the socially clueless like myself have to be careful of. Though Game has helped that in some ways.

Experiences.

Being beaten with a chunk of firewood. Still have faint scars on the forehead. Said that I was pleasantly ugly at best. Broken leg. Nearly run over by a Land Rover at night, the idiot didn't have his lights on. Pushing a bike one-handed for almost 5km, to get to a doctor, while the other arm has a shattered elbow.

Climbing various peaks. Taking photographs of the night sky. Watching  a lunar eclipse through binoculars. Checking out the Venus/Jupiter conjunction not so long ago.

Walking through cities where I don't speak much of the local language. Looking at the architecture, ancient, modern, marvelling at how much some people of the past have done, puzzling at why people these days are so obsessed with silliness and triteness.

Two thousand years ago we could have had the steam-engine. We had gears, and batteries, and stuff like that. These things weren't rediscovered until the last few hundred years. Only 47 years ago we went to the moon. The moon!

Now we bitch when the fuckin' remote needs the batteries changed. Now we have fights about what we should watch on TV or at the movies or where to eat out. Now we listen to the blather of the inane "celebrities" and the carefully-sanitized news. Now we argue about what the dramatized idiots on the tv-shows do, what they should have done, etc etc ad fucking nauseum.

Thank you very much for the drivel, world.

It's time for Monk Mode again. Hopefully there won't be anything to kick me out of it. Might avoid the manosphere entirely for a month or two, avoid that silliness going down, while I sort out work and business and get some thinking in. Will ease into it.

ISTJ's, probably introverts on the whole. We do our thinkin' in advance when we can. Figure out our boundaries. Figure out what we are gonna do in certain situations. Run through scenarios in our heads. Unlike that dipshit extroverted world, where most things are a stream-of-conscious random blurt of silliness and stupidity.

A scary thing for women, Monk Mode. Who knows what kind of thoughts and actions might come out of it. After all, someone might realize "nah" and go do their own thing. Scary, scary, for her to be relegated to the dustheap of generic worthless shit in this world.

Putting aside the Crap Colored Glasses™ for a while. Later.

Sunday 12 July 2015

The Beaten Man

Like Dr Bill Warner regarding Islam:
The western world is likened to the abused wife, the beaten dog, and the raped child (42-43 minutes if you want to skip ahead). In a state of fetal self-protection.

Now look at the effects of Radical Feminism. Leaving men in a state of fetal self-protection, like a beaten child or dog.

More than feral. Almost becoming insane.

Have you ever seen a beaten dog suddenly turn on it's tormentor? It's not a pretty sight.

Can you imagine some beaten men suddenly turning on their tormentors? That would not be a pretty sight. Women prate about being oppressed. They don't know what they're talking about.

Assuming, of course, that the Western empire isn't destroyed by the immigrants which they are inviting into their backyard by the boatload. As is already happening in the Scandinavian countries and the EU.
==========================
I've add SFC Ton's blog to my blogroll. I hope that he continues to produce content. I like what he's done so far.

Friday 10 July 2015

Love Is A Many Splendored Lie

"I love you."

Yeah. You keep saying that.

"I love you."

Uhuh. Heard you before.

"I love you."

Whatever.

The word "love" - as repeated in various ways and with various intonations by teh wimminz - has as many and varying meanings as a woman wants to give it. Most only in the moment. To revise in the future when it's convenient. As fickle and changeable as teh wimminz themselves.

Which is fuckin' hard for us men to figure out. We use words in a manner which is pretty-much unvarying. We don't want them varying in the insane and roundabout ways that teh wimminz adore. Reason being that "run for your life there's a fuckin' sabertooth chasin' your ass" is a message you don't have the time for leisurely contemplation over - to try and figure out the real meaning that that cunt Sue was trying to put across in her sneaky little put down. Oh, that bitch!

"I love you."

Pull the other one, it's got bells on.

"I love you!"

I love you too, but I'm not in love with you.

The light dawns, both figurative and real. The seduction has faded with the night. The bloom has gone from the rose. The glaring light of day exposes the shabby furnishings and mean room. The Empress' clothing is strewn over the floor. The artifices designed to simulate a youthful shape are laid bare. The sagging and wrinkled flesh is plain to see.

"I love you." With a forlorn and lost look on her face. An ersatz - or real? - shattered heart on display. We will never know. We can never know.

Manipulation and lies, as natural as breathing.

For most (if not all) women the "I love you" is a reflexive and empty mouthing designed to elicit a trained Pavlovian response in a man. "Be my slave." For the moment, for a long time, for eternity? Or do you just want that horny little itch scratched again before I get on with my day?

More truthful might be her saying: "I care about you."

Do you? Do you really? Is that why you deliberately mess me around? Is that why you attempt to twist me into crazed distraction? Is that why you attempt to see how far you can push the boundaries, beyond all sanity, and then insist that this is normal and expected?

I luuuuuurve you too.

Thursday 9 July 2015

Student Debt Truth

Sometimes satire is the only mainstream way of warning people not to fuck their lives up. From The Onion:


Yes indeed, get that truth out there - one way or another.

Wednesday 8 July 2015

Men Still Doing The Work

This is gonna come across oddball. Bear with it.

As Men, we here in the manosphere are still doing all the work - of figuring out women.

Women put no effort in - they still float along serenely in their sweet little bubble of privileged life.

Which is still kind of interesting. To hell with teh wimminz, go do your own thing - and here we are, still trying to figure out these narcissistic little privileged twats. In a way, it's what we accuse some segments of the PUAs of doing: catering to the pussy.

Trying to figure her out, while she doesn't give a toss. Her only interest is how far she can twist and jack you around - just because she has a pussy and she knows she can do it. See how far she can push it.

I'm not absolutely certain of many of our (the manosphere's) motivations for this figuring out women thing. It's almost a flipside obsession, akin to the addiction (or brainwashing) that we have been subjected to all our lives.Obsessed with finding the truth about women. What makes them tick. Why they do the things they do. What behaviors are commonly exhibited. Why they might exhibit those behaviors.

She doesn't care. She learned early. I have the pussy, I have the power. There are - who knows? - maybe 99+% of men who unthinkingly agree.

Sometimes I am uncertain as to the ultimate purpose of some of us within the manosphere. Yes, some are just men looking to get laid. Some are men looking to make $$$. Some are men looking to be looked up at as "guru's". That sort of thing.

I think that a lot of teh wimminz come in here to see how far they can twist us around.

I do this to try and warn other men of the shit-storm they are walking into. Warn them to avoid certain types of behaviors and why they should avoid them.

I suspect that some men are still looking for their NAWALT.

It's interesting though. When you think about it. On a meta-level, we can say that this is all still revolving around the women, still revolving around the pussy. It all focuses on women. Still. As she twists our mental obsessions around her, even while we do our best to avoid her. In a way, still caught.

Let's say that you are hunting for the mysterious and elusive NAWALT. We learn all the danger signals so we can avoid the unsuitable women out there. If you're lucky, you might find your NAWALT.

Yet you - the man - have still put all the effort in to find her. She has likely been floating blissfully along on her cloud of privilege. Let's say you've found her. Then you have to woo her, convince her that you are the one worth having in her life.

You. Doing all the work. Still.

Monday 6 July 2015

Too Bad for Greece

So the Greeks have fucked themselves up the ass. It's no surprise.

From The Wall Street Journal:

Polls Close in Greek Referendum

So yes. Basically they've fucked themselves up the ass. Got their cake, eating it too. Plus their neighbor's. Possibly yours as well, if they could get their grasping little hands on it.

Which they will try. At the polls they put out a country-wide message of public social entitlement that is near-stunning to behold. I can imagine future messages from them along the lines of "please help meeeeeee" - at least, from teh wimminz in the country. Coupled with shaming attempts along the lines of "too gutless to help those in need" blah blah blah blah blah.


Good shaming attempt, kiddo.

Your problems. You want us to step in and sort it out for you. Only if I can beat some sense into you - because otherwise you'll just do it again, and again, and again...expecting me to help you out of your self-induced woes again, and again, and again...

One of the comments that made me just about piss myself laughing (emphasis and formatting mine):
The Greeks are dancing and drinking Ouzo throughout the night. What an incredible victory they are celebrating against all of those mean-spirited Europeans who made them borrow (and spend) a lot of money. Tomorrow (or the day after), they will wake up and have to deal with a brutal hangover unless of course they hold another referendum and win a vote against hangovers. No matter. 
The Greeks can continue to behave like Greeks. 
Tsipras and his gang still don't understand that their amateurish grandstanding has effectively eliminated the necessary level of popular support required for Merkel to negotiate any form of compromise. The gig is up. 
Those of you spouting about this event portending the end of the Euro zone or western civilization should get a grip. This is merely the end of Greece as a modern country and few of us remain that care. We're too busy working and living within our means.
Life's a party boys and girls! For those of you working and living within your means - you win the prize - you get to prop up this mess with (the loss of) your hard-earned investments and savings!

Time for an irrelevant Greek joke:
One evening a man takes his son up to the top of a hill that overlooks his village and the ships of the local fishermen in the bay. 
Father: "Son, I have brought you up her for a lesson. I want you to look down on both sides of this hill. What do you see?" 
Son: "I see the village houses down there father, and the fishermen's boats tied up down there father." 
Father: "Yes son. You are right. Do you know that I built several buildings in the village, son?" 
Son: "Yes, father." 
Father: "And you know that I built several of those boats, son?" 
Son: "Yes, father." 
Father: "Son, am I called Gaetan the House Builder?" 
Son: "No, father." 
Father: "Son, am I called Gaetan the Boat Builder?" 
Son: "No, father." 
Father: "Exactly son. I build houses. I build boats. I am not known for doing those things." 
Then the Father raises one finger: "But when you fuck just one goat...!"
Or perhaps not so irrelevant...

Never mind. I'm certain that the lefties will fall over themselves in their haste to help prop up this wastrel country. "The poor dears! Just think of all those Greek children starving in the streets. The poor poor dears!"

Devour, Prey, Lust

Commentor Mindstorm draws my attention over to a post on Rollo's blog:

Eat, Prey, Love - Confessions of a PUA

For extra amusement, Rollo links to the original post - by a woman:

Confessions of a Seduction Addict

As Rollo notes: when you flip the script (change the gender) the entire context changes and you start to see the double-standards mentality behind "the Matrix" and just how gynocentric our society is.

You could liken the two posts to a moment of clarity, like addicts have. As I have mentioned a few times in prior posts. Though women are brave, empowered, and lauded for their realization, men are...who knows?...probably spat on and looked upon with distrust.

'Round and 'round and 'round you go. The game of musical cocks has inevitable losers - and the "chairs" are disappearing, more and more rapidly by the day.

As we Men awaken to the game of pac-woman going on:

Friday 3 July 2015

Trash Talks

So, my car is getting sorted out at the moment. I take a bus to my current-work-to-be - what the hell, why not. The early-morning/late-night walk to the bus stop is good for me.

What do I hear as I'm looking out the bus window? Trash. In the seats behind me. Reminiscing.

I suppose that it's no real surprise. In this part of NZ, trash takes the bus - because it can't afford a car. I won't broadbrush this behavior as the same for the rest of the world (like America) though I think it's likely. Some places will be different of course: in NY or London, trains make good economic sense.

At any rate. Trash. Reminiscing.

About?

Guy: "Remember <someone's> place? That used to be a great party-house."

Instant peg: good-time guy.

Girl: "Darned right, we had lots of fun there!"

Instant peg: good-time girl.

Girl: "The best metal-house I knew as in Wellington."

Instant peg: long-term party girl ("I like to have fun!" in the Plenty Of Whales dating profile).

More blathering. Including, from the girl: "I remember when <someone's> dog ate our hash-cake. The whole damn hash cake. Damn it!"

Instant peg: drug-user culture. Wannabe-criminal-style scum. Probably tatted to shit and back (I couldn't be bothered looking).

This in the back of a bus, talking quite normally, so others could hear it. No problems with the world knowing the type of person you are. Definitely no shame in this pair.

Deliberately advertising it? Somehow I think more likely they're stupid.

These are Omega types as put forth by BoneCrkr. The criminal scum class of society. The "edgy" types that girls supposedly love, love, love.

Maybe the slutty girls. Which seems to be a distressingly large number in these degenerate days.

So I remember the dancers that I used to hang around with. Filled with these types of good-time girls and good-time guys. I was going to go down that route myself, the route of the PUA...then decided "fuck no, not my path, not my way". (Besides, a Man's got to have some standards himself. Especially a businessman.)

They can look classy. They can act classy. They can sound classy. Only time will reveal if they really are classy. Usually it's just sassy, or arse-y.

If you are seriously in the market for a NAWALT/Unicorn, stay alert for the tiniest hint of this type of shit. I don't think much of your chances - however, filtering out that type will stand you in very good stead. No matter what your ultimate purpose. The less headaches your girl(s) give you, the better your life will be.

Leave the garbage girls for the guys with lower standards.
==============================
A note - it's not just low-end criminal scum into drugs. Definitely not. The so-called upper-class does it also.

I know a guy who day-trades currencies. Eight computer screens on a wall, big ones. He's turning 51 years old soon. He's worth I-don't-know-how-many millions these days - used to be over $15 million. He takes various different drugs on a regular basis.

His girlfriend is 37-38 years old. She will be the recipient of an inheritance worth over 50 million pounds (English chick, go figure). She looks a little past it also, for obvious reasons. She also takes various different drugs on a regular basis. I've head her comment, in mixed company while on the town, that she wished she had some E (ecstacy). She wanted to liven up the group, fly in company.

She's also privately had a sneer to me about her currency-trading boyfriend. "I'm worth more than him. I'll eventually inherit over 50 million pounds." With an insufferably smug tone of voice. She owns a business as a dog-groomer and trainer.

How did he and she get together? He said flat-out to her face: "All you have are your looks. And those are going."

Not classy. Either of them.
==============================
You can call me a moralistic prig if you want. Drugs, alcoholism, the party-circuit, that whole scene. That is simply not the way I am.

Partly why I ended up walking away from dancing, from a certain sack-of-shit PUA - from going out entirely, in the end.

Technically some of these things are frowned upon - they're against the law. In these degenerate days, you're looked upon as being a moralistic prig if you don't join in wholeheartedly. Hell, I've been called a square to my face by these types of people.

That's not my path, not my way of life. Though in the end, I'm not really that bothered if someone else goes down that way. Cynically flexible enough to say "go for it if you want, I can't be arsed narc'ing on you - not gonna hang around you while you do it either".

Watching a trainwreck in action only has a short-term interest to me. Once you've seen a few, you can guess the most likely outcome of the rest. Hint: "having a moment of clarity and sobering up and sorting out your life" is not generally in that outcome.

Your choice to determine if you want to hang around the trash. Just take responsibility for yourself and your decisions.

Thursday 2 July 2015

Against Immigration

Ex-Army puts up a post about Ann Coulter and how she rakes the left's concepts of immigration versus the reality over the coals:

Coulter the Outlier

It's an excellent read, as is the link to a TakiMag article about it, and I'm picking that her book ¡­Adios America! would be just as good. Apparantly the best part of the book boils down to:
“The running joke of the book is that liberals don’t get that they’ve unleashed on America the opposite of the principles they claim to uphold.”
Of course, leftists have an amazing set of blinkers when it comes to not-seeing anything that would threaten their worldview. In the end it'll probably be a hit only with people who deal with the real world - and not those who deal in the fantasy-world of: elves, rainbows, unicorns, unicorns that shit rainbows, and feeeeelz.

Reality hurtz, don't it lefties?

Feeling Shame

Over on the RoK hit-piece, a commentor replies to me:
Bear Hands 
"Feel shame for what is shameful to you. Don't feel shame for what others tell you to feel shameful for." 
The first one comes from red pill men trying to make you better. The second comes from feminism.
My response:
Interestingly put, I kind of like that. To paraphrase: "Feel shame for what is shameful to you. Red Pill men trying to make you better." 
A question about this though. Ignoring the whole shaming attempt thing of calling these guys virgins who can't get laid - which some are definitely not.
It seems to me to be a lack of respect towards these men, of whatever stripe. These people (MGTOW) are nominally adults and in many cases chose their lifestyle. Whatever the events that caused them to go in various ways. Whether it's a cost-benefit analysis, getting screwed over by a really bad ex-wife, seeing what happened to a friend or family member, etc. 
It seems as though some Red Pill men are projecting their sense of "what is shameful to you" on to these others, who have decided their path through life. This seems to be a lack of empathy and consideration towards their fellow-men. A lack of respect for their choices in life. 
Very female- and feminist-like in it's way.
Ignoring the issue of the sub-rosa doublethink agenda behind these hit-pieces ("Pay me $$$ you losers and I will teach you how to fuck hawt chicks!").

Definitely a lack of respect towards others. Though what more can you expect - of a segment of men which advocates becoming somewhat sociopathic/psychopathic in order to have sex with naive women?

Uncle Bob has some great ideas regarding Shame and Guilt.

Wednesday 1 July 2015

Observation: Women Fiddling

This is something that I've observed over the years: women are always fiddling with stuff.

It was kind of brought to my attention reasonably recently, at a stoplight. Waiting...waiting...a woman coming down the street opposite...she's touching her hair...she opens up her handbag and starts rummaging through it while walking...

It was the last which made me go: "What the fuck?"

There she is, walking down the footpath on a cold day, adjusting/touching her hair randomly, then she gets the urge to rummage around the contents of her handbag. Why on earth? Can pretty-much guess that there was no mirror in the thing. It sure wasn't a windy morning. Did she think something had randomly appeared or disappeared in there?

Perhaps she needed something to do with her hands. (There was no cock handy so the purse was the only plausible substitute.)

This made me think about all the times that I've seen this and similar behavior. Thinking about it, it appears to be a form of preening (I'm being charitable - it could be simple ADD, less attention-span than a gnat). What makes me think it's a form of preening is because they're always fiddling with:
  • hair
  • lipstick
  • makeup
  • jewelry
  • rummaging in the handbag (checking the condoms? it's yours, you know what's in there)
  • wineglass stem (cock-substitute)
  • cigarette (cock-substitute)
  • cellphone (bigass cock-substitute + narcissistic drug + fuckknowswhatelse to Sauron's minions)
Most of these come under the heading of preening, or some substitute thereof. I wonder what goes through their heads as they do these things: "Do I look all right?" "Am I perfect?" "Look at meeeeee!" That's assuming that it's not a vacuous void, empty of thought, a reflexive loop-action like a machine - which I have met some girls that would 100% be accurate of, they can barely walk and chew gum at the same time they're so stupid.

So there I was, the only male in sight, waiting patiently in a car for the light to turn green - and a woman who was touching her hair as she walked (personal reassurance?) suddenly starts to fish around vigorously in her handbag as she's walking.

Who knows, maybe she had a sudden urge for her cock-substitute aka cellphone. If so, she didn't find it - she shut her handbag and pressed the pedestrian button, just as my light turned green. And was touching her hair again as I pulled through the intersection.

Nero fiddles while Rome burns? Naaaahhhhh...