I guess that’s one reason we don’t hook up…

December 12, 2010

The Journalist swung by the desk last week for some idle chit chat, and she started griping about the person she was waiting for:

“I can’t believe this guy is taking so long. I would never let my boyfriend or husband make me wait like this.”

I give her a sidelong glance; “Really?”

She didn’t notice my look–far too busy checking her Iphone for messages. “Yeah.”

I saw the guy she was waiting for get off the elevator. “I guess that’s one reason we don’t hook up.”

Her eyes went round as saucers. Whatever response she might have made was cut off by the arrival of her associate. I have no idea if she looked back at me– I got busy with my own work. Whether she knew it or not, she just eliminated herself from “the pool of potentials”. If I have learned one thing from the Roissysphere/Manosphere, it is this: Never, never, ever, let a woman dictate your level of importance to you.

I remember being worried over feeling jealous at the sight of the Journalist getting a hug from a guy– worried because it meant I was slightly pedestalizing her, and suffering from attachment. That conversation killed that once and for all. Thank God. My time is running out, and the last thing I need to do is pine over a woman who would treat me like my time is less important than hers.

Never sell yourself short. Ever.

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The dangers of inertia.

July 5, 2010

One of my worst enemies in my effort to re-make myself is the inertia of life: it’s the collection of habits and repetitive behaviors that occupy most of our daily activities. It takes a serious shake-up in your life to get you to start fighting against the usual, to make an effort to try to improve yourself; for me, it was cancer, and the naked terror of dying like I am. 11 minutes hit on the difficulties of staying on your new course in his Sex and Philosophy post:

There is enormous freedom in that state of mind. Your entire ambition becomes to live just for another moment. Nothing else counts. The people around you become strangers, possessed by an evil invisible force that drives them to not enjoy every single moment as you are. If you care enough about them, you want to shake them, tell them to stop worrying about their petty little worries and go and live! But you know that you now talk a language they will never understand.

But the state of mind of a survivor state of mind is short lived.

Soon after I had been told that my ulcer was benign, I slipped back into my old life. As soon as your time horizon fades back into a foggy future, you start worrying the human worries again. You need money. You do not want anyone to steal your stuff. You do not want to risk serious injury or disease. You do not want to fall behind your peers. The evil invisible force gets you under its control again.

I have been experiencing the exact same phenomenon that 11 minutes describes above. And, like he, I am acutely aware of how wrong it is to fall back into the old rhythms–“Once you took a sip from the spring of wisdom, it is hard to forget its taste.“; indeed, sometimes I am so aware of how much I am not getting done that I start having anxiety attacks–I worry that I might die before I’m done, or (worse still) that I might fail to transform, and live out the remainder of my life grieving for what might have been.

The answer is as 11 minutes describes it:

Life is not a parade of great experiences, one after another. It is trite, mundane, often boring, exhausting and insignificant. But then there are the brief flickers of exception The amazing moments. And it is those that we live for. And the art of life is not to miss out on them. Once you miss the moment, it is gone forever.

Don’t try to seize the whole day. Seize the best parts of it. Use the rest of the time to recharge for the next great event that makes your life.

I have to learn to seize the best parts of the day–to recognize those opportunities and to take them. If I succeed, I succeed; if not…well, I made the effort, didn’t I?


Shrinking violet, indeed!

July 4, 2010

Just took a Narcissistic Personality Test posted by Susan Walsh of Hooking Up Smart, and I came out thusly:

Narcissistic Trait
Authority: 1.00
Self-Sufficiency: 1.00
Superiority: 0.00
Exhibitionism: 0.00
Exploitativeness: 0.00
Vanity: 0.00
Entitlement: 2.00

Given that the average score is 12 and 15, with celebrities scoring about an 18 (and true narcissists scoring about a 20), I would say that I have a long way to go.


Seeing things in the rear-view mirror…

June 27, 2010

Come mid-August, it will be 11 long years since the ex left me, getting on a plane to Europe to disappear forever.

Looking back on it now, I dodged one hell of a fucking bullet; I’ve kept track of my ex, and I know what happened to her, the man she ended up marrying, and her kids. There, but for the grace of God, go I, my sons.

I don’t think my ex ever consciously meant to use me as an ATM–if she had, she would not have told me so much of the man she did end up with. But, she did–and she would still be doing so today, were we still together.

It was this post that got me to thinking about my initial meeting with my ex, and the mistakes that I made; Lord Almighty, I cringe at the mistakes I have made–yes, even the flowers I brought to the first date. I was Beta (Gamma, by Vox Day’s metric), and she treated me as such. Every day, from the point I found out my cancer had departed, must be a day that I say, “Never Again”–and mean it.

Which is why this post is so bloody disheartening. Nothing sucks the wind out of one’s sails than to realize that one can fall back into old habits so damn easily–and I have; I’ve tipped my hand to one of the hotties up on 9, and I can see her contempt in her eyes every time she walks past the desk.

“Hindsight is wonderful-it shows you how you busted your skull after you’ve busted it.” ~Robert Heinlein, Friday

Fuck it. Regroup, recover, and soldier on. Move forward, or die–and I’m not going to face God like this, damn it.


Wisdom most rare and precious.

April 11, 2010

Precious wisdom from Mandolyna Theodoracopulos (obligatory tip o’ the hat to FB):

Additionally, a woman who doesn’t realize she needs women friends to be socially successful, not enemies, is dense. She is also unlikely to be a very happy or stable individual without a solid group of female companions. Women who bed any man they can get their hands on are eventually shunned by both men and women. Sex with married men may be temporarily satisfying, but in the long run amounts to little. What these girls need is a good smack on the arse for being too proud, and another one on the hand for their offenses to female solidarity.

Obviously, men like my father are grateful such idiots exist, otherwise they would be stuck in a world with women they have to reckon with on a deeper level all the time. True intimacy is part of any functioning individuals life, but lets be realistic, it’s not always easy. Sometimes people just need to let loose—why should they have to apologize for it? Blaming a man for wanting a casual connection once in a while is unfair. A little fling is a way to blow off steam, and so much less complicated than family life. The reality however, is that virile men don’t have that much self-control. If a so-called hot chick wants an affair, she usually won’t come up against much resistance. Men are programmed to spread their seed. They are also easily susceptible to flattery. Furthermore, unlike most women, they can compartmentalize sex. So I wonder, what is all the recent fuss about? Why are the men going to rehab when clearly, the women who bed married men should be the ones talking to shrinks?

Women are, and always will be, the gatekeepers of sex. If men cheat, women make it possible; if women want men to stop cheating, they have to stop giving cheaters what they want.

But, hey–what are the chances of that happening?


Still more fury–and the double standard.

February 4, 2010

Oh, boy.

A while back, PUA Roosh V (author of Bang and A Dead Bat In Paraguay: One Man’s Peculiar Journey Through South America) posted an email he received from a stalker. As Roosh expected, the stalker outed herself, and the fallout has spread to other blogs.

Points to take away from the Anoukange/Roosh clash:
1)When your emotions run rampant, you become your own worst enemy. It doesn’t matter how right or wrong you or the other person is or was, or how badly either of you behaved–if you let your emotions go unchecked, you will alienate any allies you might have, and dig yourself deeper into the hole.

2) Game works. Period. Default User has it completely right. Learn, or get left in the dust.

3)Learn from your mistakes. Poetry of Flesh makes an important point in the comments here:

The last time a guy successfully gamed me when I did not wish to be gamed was late ‘08.

Afterwards, when we were lying in my bed, I turned to him and broke down exactly what he did that made me want him, want to sleep with him, then complimented him on his game. He thanked me, then started telling me stories of how he came up with his methods, how often they had worked, what his no-fail LMR tactic was (which is what he used on me and I was so enamoured with).

I still bring up his tactics when explaining game to my guy friends, when they need tips and tricks for handling LMR.

4)Everyone wants to be dominant. No man wants to get strung along for money and drinks; no woman wants to give herself to any man less than her standards require. All personal interactions are exchanges of power between individuals–and no one wants to yield more power for less return (no one wants to pay too much). Women who fear Game do so out a mistaken perception of the playing field: in the modern West, absent rape, women decide with whom, how, and how often they will have sex. Their only limiting factors are a) how high they set their standards when deciding on a sexual partner, and b) thier value in the sexual marketplace. Women always have the home court advantage.

Men, on the other hand, have to stand out from the crowd, overcome his fear and approach, capture her interest, maintain that interest until he demonstrates that he meets her standards, get her to agree to have sex with him, get her to a location where she will feel comfortable having sex, and get her to overcome her last-minute resistance to having sex.

Most men have no idea how to do any of that. The old rules of courtship that our fathers used to woo our mothers don’t work anymore–because the values that women look for in men today are radically different from those our mothers looked for in our fathers. Feminism and the sexual revolution have made men the default losers in the sexual marketplace.

Game is simply the means men use to even the playing field. Game allows a man to demonstrate those characteristics, values, and standards that women are looking for in men. Game teaches men how not to get taken advantage of by women, or engage in behavior that will lower his value in her eyes.

But what Game doesn’t do is trick a woman into having sex with a man. Game isn’t force, or rape. Game doesn’t guarantee that a man will have sex–it just tips the scales back to even. The final decision to have sex still remains the woman’s. It always has been, and it probably always will be.

5)Women can still get away with shit men can’t. Imagine, just for a second, what the situation would be if it had been Roosh writing those emails to Anoukange; what do you suppose the reaction of would have been? Does anyone believe Anoukange faces the same risks that a man would, had he acted the way she has?

Nah–me neither.


Hell hath no fury…up in big lights.

January 31, 2010

Jilted Mistress Takes Out Times Square Billboard

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Particularly if that woman has access to billboards in Times Square.

According to Gawker, a slew of giant billboards have popped up in New York, San Francisco and Atlanta featuring a mysterious couple, Charles E. Phillips and YaVaughnie Wilkins. The signs spotlight an oversize image of the couple cuddling, along with the words “You are my soul mate forever! – cep” and a link to a bizarre website littered with love notes and romantic pics of the canoodlers. (The site, charlesphillipsandyavaughniewilkins.com, has now been shut down.)

There’s only one little problem.

Charles is the co-president of software giant Oracle and on the board of President Obama’s economic recovery team. YaVaughnie is – not his wife.

First off: Damn! Talk about making the drama public! It sucks to be Charles E. Phillips these days.

Second: This is why you have to avoid women with low self-esteem; as noted by South, Clare & Franco in Practical Female Psychology, women with low self-esteem love drama, and will engage in destructive behavior to generate such behavior. Charles should have tested her much more thoroughly before starting the affair (not that I would advocate a married man engage in an illicit affair in the first place–it always ends in tears).

Third: You have to hand it to the woman–this is how revenge should be done. If you’re going to hurt somebody, hurt them bad. Your mark should feel the sting of your vengeance for years afterward. Poor ol’ Chuck is going to be hurting for a long, long time.