When this character rambles on all stream-of-consciousness like, he ends up condemning himself. There are numerous examples, but this one at 31:35 is particularly humorous.

If you know how to apply the things that I cheat… er… teach

Thanks again to Jason for turning me on to this ham-fisted PUA.

I enjoy getting feedback on articles, publicly or privately, good or bad.

Someone noted that my last article could be interpreted as motivated by envy or ressentiment. I can dig that, and I thought I should probably expound.

My understanding of Roosh’ life includes at least one advanced degree in either zoology or biology, which means he’s probably at least one standard deviation brighter than I am (I studied math and physics in undergrad because that was the way I could get out of taking any life science courses – no shit). I also understand Roosh to have been offered a 6-figure job by some biochem or pharmaceutical company right out of uni. That certainly beats my story.

So, Roosh is brainier than Boxer. He’s also (objectively speaking) a better and funnier essayist. While I know I can get as much sex as I want with women who meet my standards, probability suggests that the author of Bang Yugoslavia has fucked way more 8s and 9s than I have.

No arguments on any of the above points from me.

What bothers me about Roosh’s life — and by extension, the lives of all the “game” gurus — is not their real or perceived superiority to me. It is rather the presupposition that they are superior to me simply for fucking lots of skank-ho wimminz.

Roosh had a biochem M.S. and a 6-figure job as a guy in his early 20s. Now he’s a 40-something old man. What has he done in the interim? The answer, of course, is nothing. He has no real-world achievements, other than doing a bunch of stuff that even a mediocrity like myself can manage.

Rather than concentrate on his career, and achieve excellence in his field, Roosh decided to drop out, wander around the world like some postmodern hobo, and screw lots of wimminz. Roosh did some writing, while he was living the hobo life. Jack London and Jack Kerouac did this, and they wrote about it too, but their writings were also funny and insightful. Instead of dedicating himself to writing meaningful stuff, Roosh wrote solely about screwing wimminz. I’ve read a couple of Roosh books. There is no substance there.

Having abandoned his grandparents’ honorable faith (Muslim or Christian it doesn’t matter) and having abandoned the degrees and career, Roosh is a 40-something old man, with nothing to show for his life. Not only do I not envy Roosh, I am compelled to feel sorry for him.

I am down for having sex with skanks myself, and don’t make any pretense of virtue, but I decided (many years ago) to take the advice of Epicurus, and make these indulgences a special-occasion thing, for weekends and holidays. Spending all day in the brothel makes sex become a chore, and while the master knew this, Roosh is apparently only now finding it out. I think that’s a pity, and I hope none of my readers follow him down his path. It’s a way to uselessness and nihilism.

For several months, people have brought up Roosh V. and his turn toward faith. I don’t remember anyone writing an article about this, so I figured I would do so now.

For those who don’t know, Roosh V. is one of the godfathers of “game,” and he has the distinction of encouraging the cad known as Roissy to start a blog of his own. Last spring, Roosh V. unpublished such classics as Bang Poland before announcing that he was not going to allow any more ribald discussion on his forum…

Assuming that he’s being honest about his motivations, rather than cynically self-censoring to avoid the SJW mob, I can’t criticize him.

While I wish him well in his new lifestyle, there are a few things to point out. The first is that what Roosh is doing is by no means unprecedented.

A great many men eventually realize the emptiness embodied in a hedonistic lifestyle. Rather than dial back the pleasure-seeking, they often implode into marriage or male-feminism.

Basing one’s life and lifestyle around screwing lots of women is to make a film, with a finite budget, filled with glossy shots and wild effects which never work, because they are compositionally forced. There is no substance to such an existence.

The pattern seems to follow a predictable course, and at some point, the “game” guru looks about himself to realize he sits in a castle in the sky, which only he can see. Thus, the moment came when Roosh realized that all his real-world achievements were limited to a dozen poorly written pornographic books, which only attracted fat autists on the internet. The only thing left to do, at such an inflection point, is abandonment of the delusion.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t seem to be strong enough to ghost out and have fun with his life. He’s addicted to the dopamine rush of internet fame. Thus he is busy reinventing himself as some sort of matchmaker.

And there we have the end of the cycle.

I think Roosh, and “game” gurus in general, operate under the misconception that we MGTOW brothers don’t have the skills to compete with them. This is a mistake. I just fucked a decent looking skank this morning. I could fuck another one within 48 hours, if I wanted to. Roosh and the “game” promoters haven’t got any secret, occult knowledge that is missing from our lives.

The differences between us are subtle, but they do exist. MGTOW use a different (though related) epistemic cycle to interpret the world. Around here, we don’t feel obligated to a society which stacks the deck so brutally against us, and even if we can Bang Nicaragua, we generally don’t. Life is short, and sex is an important but minor part of it.

It seems that kooky Joe Biden is sliding into that dark night of nutcase obscurity, with more rapidity than I could predict. Taking his place is none other than Elizabeth Warren, better known as Fauxcahontas.

Warren is a clever attorney who advanced her career by smearing herself with red shoe polish, pretending to be a first nations / native american. In reality, she’s as white as I am.

After her redface scam played out, she began pretending to be some radical leftish reformer who was going to stand up for working families. She has been running this con ever since. In reality, Elizabeth Warren is the democrat version of Ted Cruz: a degenerate insider pretending to be a maverick.

If anyone is thinking of voting for this old bag, I would like to personally posit a more authentic candidate. Don’t vote Fauxcahontas. Vote Smokohantas instead!

Mountainclimbing and filmmaking are hobbies or careers, but they are also masculine pursuits.

If anyone hasn’t seen the feature yet, I’d recommend it.

Over in Oklahoma, 44-year-old first grade school teacher Tasha McCuan had sex with three different underage high school boys (link). The state charged her with three counts of second-degree rape. I’m sure she only had sex with them once each. True to form, the state then gave her the pass and dropped two of the three charges. For rape of three boys one boy she gets 5 years in prison and a $2,200 fine.

Around the same time as Tasha was getting it on with every boy at the high school, 36-year-old high school teacher Jason Argo was starting his 12-year prison sentence for one count of lewd battery and one count of child abuse, after receiving oral sex twice and having intercourse once with a high school student.

It turns out that Argo got off easy—12 years—because he had PTSD. On the other hand, McCuan got off easy—5 years—because she’s a woman.

I try and shy away from posting heady stuff here, because my target audience doesn’t want complicated philosophy lectures. (they want memes, man…) Sometimes I just have to go there.

Down below, Jason (who has an account here, and who has contributed regular articles before) writes some stream-of-consciousness stuph in the comments that’s pretty interesting.

On shifting notions of marriage…

No man in here is married to a woman like this, needless to say…..looks like this. She exists, sure. No doubt….but she isn’t married to you, would never date a man like me and frankly has the time to do this (ie she doesn’t work…..and is married to a man who can comfortably provide on all levels). She isn’t married to the local guy in the church who has a mid level programming job. She is married to an executive.

I’ve seen photos of Derek’s wife. She’s not a huge fat beast, and she’s not ugly. The fact that you or I don’t consider her a hardbody 9/10 doesn’t matter much, because there’s only one man on earth she needs to stay attractive for, and he doesn’t seem to voice any complaints.

I could offer all the hottest skank-ho sluts on Tinder five-hundred bucks to try and seduce Derek for a night of no-strings fun, and I would bet money that he would laugh in their faces. Even if Hugh Hefner wouldn’t hire her as a playmate, she’s Derek’s playmate, and in a patriarchal society, that’s all that matters.

I could argue that in 1960 this was more common…..not because “feminism” or “chivalry” ruined everything….but an average guy who finished high school in 1955 after his two years service in the military could come back….get a half decent job in the local carpet mill, manufacturing plant, apprentice in the trades, or off to college / university (if he indeed was in the top 20% academic wise in high school)and marry a woman like this and provide for her. The cost of living was much lower, the US economy was growing at a whopping 10-12% a year (and we cheer today about how great things are if it grows at 3% a year)

Jason takes the classically Marxist position, that historical events are a direct result of economic factors. In this particular example, I agree that there has been a change in the meaning of marriage, and I don’t think he’s far off the mark, but I think it is shortsighted to shotgun all social problems as ultimately financial.

Consider the phenomenon of wimminz social praxis. Note that in 1960, there was a significant sense of shame attached to divorcing your man. People in that era who divorced each other (men and women alike) were seen as pathetic losers, irresponsible morons, and untrustworthy philanderers. A wimminz in 1960 would be shunned by all her friends, the day after she went down to the divorce court. A wimminz in 2019 is celebrated by these same useless cunts, and the few married females in these social circles are goaded and egged on to cash out and join the party.

Jason seems to contend that females in 1960 were more willing to marry a diesel mechanic because the average wage of a diesel mechanic could provide more disposable income and consumer goods to a woman. I’d argue that a significant factor is (again) social feedback from wimminz’ peers. In 1960, the 19-year old female who wasn’t married was considered a loser. In 2019, the 19-year old female who is married is considered a loser.

The woman in this picture…..her husband is not working as an auto mechanic at the local Ford dealer. No way. Her husband is not a carpenter. My dad was a lifelong Union carpenter, and a certified millwright, foreman for large jobs in the Upstate New York region….and a sought out craftsman for cabinets. The house I grew up in, he built in 1970. He even poured the foundation. The house btw sold for almost a million dollars in depressed rural northern New York State…….that’s how customized and well built it was.

To be clear, I don’t know the woman in the photograph. Apparently she has an instagram feed where she promotes the sort of traditionalism many in these parts admire. If she’s countercultural enough to do that much, I think it’s entirely possible that she’s married to a working-class guy.

Jason is assuming that all the carpenters and plumbers of 1960 went on welfare or got hooked on Vicodin and are now in the gutter. I think it’s just as likely that these men are now retired contractors. I’ve taught math to welders at community college. My students in that particular course all landed union gigs where they soon made more money than I do. If I could be married (and I’m sure that I could) then there’s no economic reason they can’t be (and many of them are.)

I don’t deny the existence of the social problem lamented by men like Jason. I just don’t buy into the idea of the primacy of economics. If I were able to grant one-hundred married men a million dollars each, it wouldn’t solve their marital problems. In contemporary society, it’d probably just add more incentive to the skanks they married to go down to the divorce courts, and get those papers filed.

I would have liked to have titled this article: The Hilarious Implosion of Joe Biden and The Panic of the Managerial Class, but this blog has its limits. In any event, one proposition entails the other, so I suppose it would be superfluous.

The managerial class was posited by Ehrenreich (John or Barbara, I don’t know which) as a defense mechanism of late-stage capitalism. Post-industrial societies come to be managed by talented members of what used to be the proletarian class, rather than controlled by the owners of the means of production. I think it’s a clever explanation, and if I’m using it to backdrop this illustration of contemporary politics, I’d put my friends at the establishment media outlets as the official organists of the managerial class.

Those same wonderful souls are beginning to screech, and the din is as sweet music to my ears…

The hack pseudojournalists who spend all day telling us that skank-ho wimminz need more rights at the expense of healthy families, and that fathers are superfluous, have apparently woken up to the dreadful reality: their hand-picked candidate, Joe Biden, is too old, unhealthy and stupid to take his place as their doddering figurehead.

The panic is beginning.

One would expect, after four years of lackluster performance by President Trump, that the opposition would be in an excellent position to retake the White House. That reasonable assumption conceals a painful naïveté, because as anyone familiar with American politics ought to know, the Dems are really great at losing. AOC and Tulsi Gabbard are economic populists, and when it comes to things that matter, they agree with the orange devil in the oval office more often than not. Kamala Harris, who would have been a managerialist surrogate, is all washed up (thanks to the aforementioned Tulsi). The Zombie Cunt Hillary, who is currently braying like a jackass on her book tour, may find a way into the race, but that’s looking more and more unlikely. Elizabeth Warren, who is the managerialist’s fake radical (she’s the liberal democrat version of Ted Cruz) is currently scrambling to explain some unusual correspondence she had with a U.S. Marine.

The managerialist press is working overtime these days, and it’s hilarious.

Joe Biden may have once been a reasonable man, but that was a very long time ago. In the last couple of decades he painted himself as the ideologue who convinced Barack Obama to nullify due process for millions of American college boys. He constantly boasts about muscling the (misnamed) Violence Against Women Act through congress, and he played a key role in starting America’s disastrous invasion of Afghanistan, which has left tens of thousands of American men dead and disabled. It’s almost a shame he won’t get the nomination, because nobody deserves to be the target of the Trump war machine more than he does.