Brother Boxer occasionally gets into a worthwhile exchange elsewhere that deserves its own thread in my ‘hood. Such a thing happened recently here.

boydoesntmeetgirl writes:

Here’s the deal: having more teeth, better hygiene and no criminal record means that you meet certain standards that those smelly thugs in bars don’t; these standards are probably really important when it comes to certain things like getting a job, but not when it comes to women. That stuff is completely irrelevant when it comes to attracting women.

If I disagree with this brother, it’s only in his conservative estimate. Not only is he pushing in the right direction (with respect to who women are attracted to) but he doesn’t go far enough. Not only is hygiene, dentistry and a productive life irrelevant to women… I believe it often makes a man less attractive. My evidence for this is admittedly anecdotal, but here it is anyway…

I have a long-time friend I’ll call Bob. Bob was a black dude in a nearly all-white town, who accepted a position with my employer. As Bob was unmarried and at about my own level in our shared profession, we rapidly started socializing after hours.

At one point, I suggested that Bob should go out with me to run ho’s. He was down, so we went to a local place where I assumed he’d be well received the following weekend. The town’s few black single women were always in attendance, as were white women who I knew to be down with dating black dudes.

The most interesting thing happened when he approached these sluts. They liked him, until he started speaking to them. Once they realized that Bob was not a thug, they had no more use for him. He became invisible within an hour.

Brother Boxer is, beneath the facade, a white trash piece of shit, who can play the part of the thug, but Bob had too much dignity.

Seeing this farce play out was a great epiphany. I realized at that moment that women do not really want a strong or successful man. The thugs they regularly go home with, who wear pants four sizes too big, who need dental work, and who are perpetually unemployed: these men aren’t attractive for their strengths (as most of the people in the manosphere will assert) but for their weakness.

Women don’t want a man who is in good physical shape, has a good education and a good income. They don’t want an articulate man who is in control of his emotions and who knows how to mix with the higher stratum. They don’t want an alpha male.

Women want a weak man, who they can control and manipulate.

Here’s the only way to know who has that “key” and who doesn’t: history and trajectory. If you have some guy who has a long history of no luck with women, and you don’t see anything changing, even slowly, then he doesn’t have that key, period. When you hit certain age milestones, like 25, 30, 40, etc. and you haven’t hit certain sexual milestones, the writing on the wall cannot be clearer. Some may think that you can play catch-up, but you can’t really. No 5-step plan is going to undo what you have become.

I know as I get older, I have progressively less tolerance for women’s shit. When I was a teenager, I would take any amount of nonsense off a ho’ just to get them drawers. Part of it is surely hormonal (once you hit 30, you aren’t quite as hot) but a part of it is surely being jaded. I’ve seen all sorts of women, and no matter how promising they’ve appeared at first, they eventually bore/anger/tire me to the point where I can’t stand the sight of them.

Furthermore, if a guy like that ends up “meeting someone” later in life, the odds of it turning out not to be what it seemed, blowing up in his face and cleaning him out like a fish are extremely high. “Too good to be true” is the rule in these things. Luck doesn’t turn around like that, because (bad) luck can’t explain decades of incel. By the time you get over 30, if you already had “that key”, you would have had a woman fall out of a tree and land on your dick at least once every two years on average (that’s an exaggeration but you see my point).

Maybe it’s just that you have standards?

Another fallacy that many in the manosphere promote is the idea that “women can get sex on demand.” Of course, that’s true, but then, so can men. The problem is that the sex a 30+ year old woman can get at a moment’s notice is closer to blowing a wino down at the bus station, than to a night with a hunky millionaire.

Just the same, I can get sex within 24-hours, but it will be with a skank (probably only moderately attractive) who probably has herpes. I could probably get sex within 4-hour window with a fattie.

I’m inclined to think that the main difference between my peer group and the incel crowd is that the inches refuse to stoop to slumming around with the types of women that the rest of us make do with.

The thing that everyone fails to understand is how easy it is for normal people to get sex and relationships compared to guys who, for no obvious reason, have absolutely no magnetism, attraction or hope — the “key” as we’ve been calling it. Once you realize how big the discrepancy is, you’ll know that it’s a problem you can’t fix — even if you knew what the problem was, that knowledge wouldn’t do you any good.

You want sex?
Prostitution.
That’s the end of the story.

Bro, they are all prostitutes. I’ve never had a straight pay-for-play experience, and yet, they’ve all cost me far more (in time and energy, if not money) than they were worth.

What’s more, it can be almost impossible to be rid of them.

…on Craigslist.

I guess if you’re in Plano, TX and you don’t mind the fact that your date was born a man, you can have a shot at this prize catch. Tell him that Brother Boxer sent you.

This is a very difficult day for many people in our deracinated society, where child-support  is the standard model of fatherhood. For all of y’all — fathers or sons — who feel sad, please consider me your father or son for the day (I’m at the age now where I can plausibly play both) and take comfort. May we turn our pain and anger into resolve which will allow for the total destruction of feminism.

I just met Michael Walsh here. Naturally, he didn’t approve my comment, so I’ll post it below.

I don’t know who this RuPaul faggot is, but he’s apparently a different character from Matt Walsh. It makes me start to suspect a genetic component to male-feminism.

I don’t know Sara Jensen; but, I’m glad she’s not my wife or girlfriend.

As (if?) we all need one more reason not to date single mothers, nor to get involved in a fatherly way with their bastard offspring, there arose today a(nother) cautionary tale from an anonymous “step-father,” currently viralizing on the internet. It is presented here verbatim. Any spelling/grammar mishaps are minor and probably the result of the poor sod typing away his series of confessions on his iphone. Take it away, “dad”:

My step-daughter will be getting married on November 3rd. The wedding planning has consumed most of her and her mother’s life (I say her mother because we aren’t married, though we’ve lived together for 10 years) for the past six months.

 

My step-daughter graduated last December from University. I paid for her to go to college, though it was a state school, it still ran $40K. She does not have a job and has been living with us for the duration of her college career and since her graduation. I also bought her a car to get back and forth from school when she finished high school.

 

This led to a pretty big fight with my GF, as I found out that NONE of my list of twenty “made the cut” for the final guest list because “250 people is very tight.” I was pissed, but not a hell of a lot I could do because the important people in my life had already been offended. My GF said “if some people didn’t rsvp yes, I might be able to get a couple people in.” But that is an ultimate slap in the face in my opinion. So, I was boiling on Saturday.

 

Yesterday, we had a Sunday dinner with the future in-law’s family and us and a surprise guest, the “Real Dad.” At this little dinner my step-daughter announced that her “Real Dad” was going to be able to make it to her wedding and that now he’d be able to give her away. This was greeted with a chorus of “Oh how great” and “How wonderful”s.

 

Is this selfish? I’m supposed to shell out 40 – 50 grand for a wedding that I can’t invite anyone to? That I am not a part of? I’m so done with this crap. I’m done with my step-daughter, I’m done with my GF. I transferred the money out of our joint account last night. (she has not had a job since she moved in with me) This morning I called all the vendors I had written checks to for deposits to refund my money. At present it looks like I’ll lose around 1500, for the venue, but the other vendors have been great about refunding.

 

From time to time her deadbeat father would pop into her life and she would fawn all over him. Although he has not contributed a cent to her education or paid any child support, though that is my girlfriend’s fault as c.s. was not part of the settlement, she still loves him and wants him in her life. He stays long enough to break her heart by skipping town and breaking some promise that he made her.

 

The wedding venue holds 250 people max. I gave them a list of 20 people that I wanted invited, you know, since I was paying for everything. They told me that was no problem and they’d take care of it. So I let these people know they’d be getting an invite and they should save the date. Saturday, I saw one of my friends on this list at the golf course and asked if he was coming. He told me that he wasn’t invited. He told me that he got an announcement, but not an invitation. He had it in his back seat (along with probably six months of mail) and showed it to me. Sure enough, it was just an announcement, and my name was nowhere on it. It had her dad’s name and her mom’s name and not mine.

 

I don’t think I have ever felt so angry and so disrespected. I was shaking. I took a few seconds to gather my composure, because I honestly wasn’t sure if I would cry or start throwing punches or both. Once I was sure I’d be able to speak I got up from my chair and said I’d like to make a toast. I can’t remember exactly what I said but the gist of it was this:

 

“I’d like to make a toast.” The sound of spoons against glasses ring in my ears. “It has been my great pleasure to be a part of this family for the past ten years.” Awe, how sweet. “At this point in my life I feel I owe a debt of gratitude to bride and groom, because they have opened my eyes to something very important.” Confident smiles exchanged. “They have showed me that my position in this family is not what I once thought it was” And now a glimmer of confusion and shock begins to spread on the faces in the room. “Though I once thought of myself as the patriarch or godfather of the family, commanding great respect and sought out for help in times of need, it seems instead that I hold the position of an ATM, good for a stream of money, but not much else. As I have been replaced as host, both on the invitations and in the ceremony, I am resigning my financial duties as host to my successor, Real Dad. So cheers to the happy couple and the path they have chosen.” I finished my drink. “You all can let yourselves out.”

For the sake of six children, I only hope that this blog is some sort of clickbait spew. Either way, we should remember that the world is filled with ridiculous people. The authoress is one.

Credit to Rob J over on Dalrock

This is what you ho’s are paying to see?

The phenomenon of the nuclear family is specific to wealthy, highly mobile societies. This tendency is especially pronounced in North America, where people have, at most, a few generations on the land of their birth. The phenomenon of the intrusive preacher is (not coincidentally) also prevalent here, where outsiders rush in to fill the emotional and moral vacuum where tradition and elders once held sway.

Pastor Mark Driscoll, a fortysomething preacher from Seattle, is an excellent example of an outsider who regularly intruded into the lives of various members of his congregation. Over the course of the last decade, his behavior became so extreme that he was eventually ordered to resign from the church he founded.

The prevalence of the Driscoll phenotype is partially cultural. The lack of family and community support creates a social aperture, through which seemingly well-intentioned scoundrels can enter into a protected discourse with individuals. Here they are free to take advantage of the most vulnerable and pliable. Driscoll himself became a surrogate father-figure to many in his flock, and he seems to have enjoyed the psychological power of this position, without ever providing much in the way of support to his “children”.

Driscoll himself was quite forthright about his own motivations. In his magnum opus, a poorly written sex-manual, he laid out the details of his own marital failures. One reviewer described the book as “astoundingly disrespectful”. Another notes that Driscoll’s wife, Grace “is often cast as the damaged and sinful wife who withholds sex from her deserving husband.”

Here we get a glimpse into the motivations of “Pastor Mark” as he berates the husbands and fathers in his congregation. The astonishing lack of intimacy at home, coupled with the social cachet of his position, led him to begin to enter into intimate relationships with the wives and daughters of his congregation. To be clear, no physical intercourse is implied. The psychological phenomenon of closure with the women in his audience appears to have satisfied his needs for intimacy.

To justify the symbolic cuckolding of the men who funded the construction of his churches, supported him emotionally, and worked to provide him with years of unearned income, he succeeded in painting all the men in his congregation as deficient.

A much more comprehensive exposé of Driscoll is now published over on Dalrock. I strongly recommend them to any incipient sociologists, who seek a deeper understanding of the intersections of family dysfunction, social isolation and the ongoing sellout of the religious ideological apparatus in twenty-first century North America.

The Only Real Man In The Room details Driscoll’s sermons about masculinity, which ranged from bombastic AMOGing to laughable public meltdowns. This pattern of lunacy likely had the effect of driving self-respecting families out of his congregation, and over time led to a congregation filled with unusually docile sheep, which only intensified Pastor Mark’s insane theatrics.

Don’t Overlook Single Mothers is an interesting article which illuminates some of the bad advice which Pastor Mark gave to the men in his spiritual care, namely that they should wife up skank-ho single mothers. The article also serves as a close look at some of his more innovative theological concepts, in that Pastor Mark regularly compared the Virgin Mary to these eligible skanks, and Jesus to one of their kids in tow. Needless to say, Christians take issue with this, as do non-Christian fans of mythology (like y’r boy Boxer).

Driscoll, Where Do Baby-Mamas Come From is a brief but expository illustration of the phenomenon detailed in the previous article. Unlike many traditional Christians, who hold that Mary (the mother of Jesus) was “without sin,” Pastor Mark believes that a sinless nature is inherent in all women. Any perceived sin in women is a misperception, therefore, and the ultimate responsible party is some man, who failed to “man up” when required.

If Suzie is pregnant again, it’s because she can’t find a decent man. That’s why she has sex with random bad men in the public toilet outside the nightclub she goes to on Friday evening. It’s not her fault, really. It’s yours. You’re a bad man, and you caused Suzie’s poor decision. Does this make sense? Not to worry, you can make things right with the Christian god by marrying Suzie, and raising her bastards as your own.

Message Received is another look at Driscoll’s evisceration of the fathers and husbands in his congregation. He goes into nauseating detail as to the faults of all the men who work to support him, detailing their various failures, and noting how worthless they all are compared to their pastor.

Oh Lord, It’s Hard To Be Humble is an account of Driscoll’s lame attempt at an “apology”, delivered as growth waned and his career began its slow descent to disaster in 2007. Driscoll confessed his faults, which largely consisted of pride in being better than all the people who were still paying him to throw fits on stage. It’s really hard to believe the hubris here, but it’s all documented in its embarrassing glory.

She Who Must Be Obeyed is the last, and by far the most interesting article about Pastor Mark. A clever liar and cunning manipulator of others, our hero is able to inject radical feminist theory into his sermons, which supposedly champion traditional values.

Marc Driscoll is one of a great many pretenders who are currently feeding on the decaying carcass of Western civilization. Why devote so much space to him? It’s a fair question.

While I’m generally apathetic about religion, I do find it interesting (and quite sad) to see the institution of the church dissolve before my eyes, in real time. It is rare that someone makes the effort to thoroughly document the historical processes surrounding such an event. Mark Driscoll is a visible example of the intersection of these larger historical processes, and the author of Dalrock has done an admirable job documenting his rise and fall, which is relevant to everyone alive today who is interested in larger social tendencies.