If the “red pill” is to represent difficult and uncomfortable truth, understanding the truth about women, or sex realism, must be the foundation of all other knowledge, and must be mastered in order to have a genuine, authentic, and accurate understanding of the world.
It’s also the most difficult truth to swallow — but why?
There is no internal, biological imperative to care about other races or tribes. This is why the Left is engaged in a perpetual witch hunt to sniff out racism, or “micro-aggressions.” They understand that diversity is not a natural state, nor is the desire for multiculturalism. People feel safest, and most comfortable, when surrounded by others with whom they can easily identify with. This is what builds a high-trust, close-knit community.
However, men are biologically wired to care for women. Even as feminists want to paint men as sexually insatiable jerks who’d cast their conquests aside like soiled junk if they could, this is only actually half-true. Men are wired to garner good feelings from their masculine role as acting as the “necessary protector of women.” From an evolutionary stance, civilization and the continuance of the human race would not be possible without this basic social dynamic. Throughout most of human history, a woman would not be able to survive her pregnancy and adequately raise a healthy baby without a man’s care, protection, and willingness to be disposable.
Remember, “women and children first” is eternal. When you’re in bed with your wife, and you hear bass beats and jive talk coming from the kitchen, no matter how hashtag badass she thinks she is, you’re the one heading downstairs with a baseball bat. Male disposability runs deeply and is not something that will ever change.
This biological wiring is the foundation for sympathetic love, or unconditional love. That is, the way a man loves a woman. This is entirely different from how a woman loves a man.
In the modern world, a woman doesn’t have the same physical limitations during her pregnancy nor initial stages of child rearing, and this is new to even the last hundred years. Yet, a man’s biological wiring to serve as her protector persists, and always will.
Modern men still define their masculine social value partially by their treatment of women, the extent to which they protect women, and their willingness to be disposable for women. Think of it like this: few men are able to maintain their resolve in the face of a crying woman, no matter what she did.
If you’re new to these ideas, I ask you to keep an open mind. I know this stuff may cut deeply and shatter the mainstream notion that women are inherently the fairer sex, that women are wonderful, but try to take this new framework for understanding sex dynamics and see how it may change the way you think about your own relationships, both past and present, or — even better — use it to analyze the relationships of your friends and family.
And I think a good place to start is to take you through my origin story: how did I end up being “Bad” Billy, and why does it matter?
We were all taught that men and women are equal. That is to say, outside of biological differences, men and women generally want the same things, have the same experiences, and have the same strengths and weaknesses. For a man to be considered a good man, or a valuable, or a worthy man, or a non-immediately disposable man, he will signal his alignment with this belief. And, in fact, we have shaming labels for those who dissent from this paradigm: sexist and misogynist.
In understanding how gender equality isn’t exactly meant to be equal, we need to look at the different messages, and their interpretations, that equality has for boys and girls.
If you take a look at any modern elementary school classroom, you’ll notice the overabundance of cuteness. Everything is cute. And I’m not just talking kindergarten, or the earlier grades. Pretty much through high school, entire classrooms are decorated like Hello Kitty threw up all over the school. In the name of gender equality, boys are reprimanded for, well, being boys. For rough and rambunctious play, for not being inclusive enough during lunch or recess, etc. It gets to the point where the new initiative is to eliminate the “boys line and the girls line,” for when the class lines up to go somewhere.
This division, they say, of a “boys line and a girls line,” creates too much of a visual cue that boys are, in fact, different than girls, and may engender the kind of chauvinism that leads to boys wanting to play with other boys. Oh, the horror!
While the literal message of equality is the same for both sexes, the interpretation is inherently different. Boys are taught that equality means men are not inherently better, more skilled, or more capable than women; that men must always be consciously inclusive of women, and that a woman’s opinion — the female voice, as feminists put it — must always have a place in the conversation, regardless of its merit.
In other words, the notion of gender equality is the idea that boys should consciously limit themselves in the name of female-centric fairness.
Girls are taught equality with the omnipresent fallacy that female oppression dominated most of history — this is a goof, this is a lie, this is a power grab — and most importantly it is the foundation for the biased approach to how women are taught equality.
If the idea is prevalent that females were oppressed until, well, forever, then little girls are to be granted full access to entitled female chauvinism. You’d never see a little boy running around in a “Boys rule!” t-shirt; the idea seems totally absurd.
So if little girls are raised to be permissibly chauvinistic, then that kind of equality means “YES YOU CAN!” And, of course, if you can’t, “don’t worry, everyone will help you along anyway.” This message of equality for women is that they are inherently as capable as the most capable man.
The unequal message of equality can be crystallized in a single image seen proudly displayed in Globalization Studies classrooms throughout our country:
What is this poster really saying, and how are braindead, girl power, socialism studies teachers interpreting it?
The easy interpretation is that women have an innate can-do spirit and therefore demand the equal treatment of men. The hidden and lost meaning is that men are, historically, able to be controlled by emasculation and shame, and make a nice, disposable statistic in the body count of war.
This poster’s original intention had absolutely nothing to do with girl power. Traditionally, military service has been a high-risk, potentially deadly, and exclusively male responsibility. If the risks still outweighed the rewards, women would want no part in military service.
With the game of equality, the rules state that men are forbidden from pointing out any differences between sexes that may have negative implications, while it’s always open season on pointing out male limitations, the most obvious being male sexuality, because male sexuality is amoral and retarded.
If we’re being honest, and, I am only honest, I’d bang Casey Anthony because male sexuality is amoral, I’d bang Amy Schumer because male sexuality is retarded, and I’d bang Jodi Arias because male sexuality is kind of crazy.
Sexuality is a man’s weakness, and there is most certainly a correlation between the most successful men and the degree to which they’re able to control their sexual desires. But still, the fact of the matter remains, that the vast majority of men would have sex with the vast majority of women, and it doesn’t take a whole lot of careful decision making. Take a look at her, does she look good? You’d bang her. Throw a rock into a shopping mall. Who’d you hit? You’d probably bang her.
The Wolf Man (1941), the original Universal monster movie, was a loose metaphor that spoke to the base animalistic instinct of male sexuality. Beware, trusting and innocent ladies: the civilized gentleman you’re with may have a dark secret, and a hidden agenda… while he seems nice, there is a beast lurking within.
Male sexuality is inherently animalistic, which is why, from a civilizational standpoint, male sexuality must be contained. We could not have a functional society without its containment, which is why the law against rape is a pillar of civilization. It is also why, as opposed to “popular feminist theory,” most men do not have the potential to be rapists — it goes against every instinct, evolutionary and socially, that a man has.
But if the rules of equality permit the persistent dissection of distinctly male weaknesses, with constant hysteria over male responsibility regarding those weaknesses, what of female weakness or female responsibility? If animalistic sexuality is male nature, what is female nature?
Seeing the tiny cracks of light through the narrative of sex equality is something inevitable, and it’s there that a man can either choose to ignore it, or let it fester. Asking taboo questions, and thinking taboo thoughts… the rabbit hole grows deep.
It was the summer of 2011 when I got my first real job out of graduate school. It wasn’t much money, but it was real enough for my girlfriend’s father to take notice. My girlfriend at the time was your typical party girl: in her early 20s, and while she had a job, she spent her money on total bullshit, entirely ignoring her student loans, car payments, and credit car bills; she left that up to her parents to pay.
This wasn’t something I gave a whole lot of thought to; we weren’t married, we weren’t even living together. She had her money, and I had mine, and all things being equal, it didn’t make sense for to me to get involved.
But her father was a Jewish lawyer.
He had invited me out to a cheap steakhouse to “congratulate me on my new position,” which was unusual enough to make me skeptical; he never seemed to care about anything I did before. And while we were out, with our awful $10 steaks, he launched into a long speech about “responsibility.” Men take care of their women, if you didn’t know, and if I expected my girlfriend to respect me, if I really loved her, I would pay all her bills for her.
The look on my face must have been telling, because he immediately busted out the big guns, and told me I had to be a man.
While I couldn’t consciously verbalize what exactly was going on here at the time, this was my very first crack of light, where I knew things weren’t quite what we were told. He was absolutely livid when I politely declined.
But where did this guy get the balls — or the chutzpah — to think I’d gleefully go along with his shame, pressure, and manipulation? It felt important to reflect on how he knew me.
How were we taught to behave with our girlfriend’s parents?
We were taught to be the good boyfriend, the agreeable boyfriend, the helpful boyfriend; signaling to the girl’s parents that, yes, you were serious about their daughter. You were willing to put their daughter first, you were were willing to make yourself disposable for their daughter. In other words, you were to signal to her parents that you were a beta male for their daughter, and this, we were told, is what gains their respect and approval.
And maybe it did, in a time where we married young, before birth control and no fault divorce. Today though, this is seen as a weakness to exploit. To put it bluntly, if you signal that you’re willing to be disposable, you’re going to be treated like you’re disposable.
The second little crack of light I got out of this was his use of male “responsibility,” and the idea that I should feel ashamed that I wasn’t “being a man.” I had this kind of responsibility toward my girlfriend, that she was entitled to my financial support, but what were her responsibilities to me?
Would he agree that she was obligated to stay fit and trim for me, or give me blowjobs on demand, or no dice — no car payments, no student loan payments, no male responsibility for the bratty little girl?
He absolutely wouldn’t.
He would tell me that her mere presence, the gift of her being with me as my girlfriend, was my reward. No further responsibility was needed on her part.
The lie we’re told as men is that beta male behavior, this kind of relinquishment of alpha male masculinity, is what garners respect — both from our women, to our women’s families, to the world in general; if we are “man enough” to make an overt showing of standing down and rolling over, and showing our soft, sensitive, underside, our willingness to be disposable for the sake of others, that this is what garners respect in the modern landscape of equality. This is a lie.
This man did not respect me, nor did his daughter. Yes, I was in love with her — before I understood what love was, and how to manage a relationship properly, and how to maintain the proper control necessary for the long haul. If such a thing is truly possible, that is, and I’m not sure it is, to be grimly honest. Thankfully, we didn’t marry, didn’t have children, and I made it out to tell the tale.
Some men aren’t so lucky.
But as I went through the motions of how the mainstream tells men to conduct their relationships, how the mainstream tells us to be men, the more I loved her, the more I listened to her, the more forgiving I was of her mistakes and inadequacies, the more I showed her sympathetic love — unconditional love — and doted on her, the more I showed her the soft underbelly of the beta male, the more she grew to resent me and become unattracted to me.
The Bride of Frankenstein (1935), directed by the eccentric homosexual James Whale, is a cautionary tale warning against the unattractive nature of becoming too civilized. In its predecessor, Frankenstein is depicted with the kind of presence and freedom of a wild animal roaming the countryside. In “Bride” he encounters a rather pleasant blind man who teaches him to speak, gives him food, cigars, and liqueur, and suddenly what was once a growling wild beast is transformed into a “nice young man.”
And, that’s nice for Frankenstein. God bless the big lug, he deserves a break from unwittingly terrorizing villages and being chased by angry, torch wielding mobs. But it’s important to ask, what was lost when the monster eases up a bit and learns to relax?
When the newly civilized monster is presented with the idea of acquiring a mate, when he clumsily utters the words “woman… friend… wife,” his whimpering neediness feels clear to the viewer; entirely gone is that animalistic freedom, and when his bride finally rejects him in absolute horror, it isn’t difficult to understand why: Frankenstein had become a beta male, and the true hallmark of the beta male is need, and need is the antithesis of attraction for a woman.
I ask you to put yourself in the big guy’s size 24 shoes right now. Think about any relationship you’ve had, where things may have started off with a kind of red hot attraction, where you were the animal man — the hunter, the need-less alpha male — seducing your way to female attraction… and then you had a moment where you said something along the lines of “gee, I really like her,” or “gosh, this one is special” and your behavior changed. You more often showed her your soft underbelly, you listened more, and you developed a need for the validation of her emotions.
And what happened?
What always happens?
The beta male is characterized by need, and need is inherently unattractive to a woman.
It was during that same summer that I became somewhat obsessed with the trial of Casey Anthony.
Oh my goodness, Casey, what have you done?
Take an average, pretty, party girl from suburban Florida, riding the tide of drug abuse, seedy house parties, and rampant promiscuity, and knock her up. Casey got pregnant from a still-unknown father, and decided to have the baby. Maybe she thought she was ready? Maybe she thought she could turn it all around, become a mother, and embrace responsibility?
Three years later, Caylee Anthony, Casey’s daughter, went missing and was later found dead. Caylee was missing for 31 days, and it was finally reported to police by Casey’s mother Cindy, who noted that Casey’s car smelled like “a dead body had been inside it.”
Casey was charged with the murder of her daughter.
The real story is what took place during the month between when Caylee went missing and Casey’s arrest. Casey partied… hard. There are numerous pictures taken of Casey during that month, at house parties, looking euphoric, drinking and dancing with other girls, draped in the American flag, something which seems almost too symbolically perfect to be true. Casey even got a tattoo to commemorate the entire surreal affair: Bella Vita, on her shoulder.
Translation: Beautiful Life.
Casey Anthony killed to party.
It’s too easy to look at Casey Anthony as an anomaly. That her story, while filled with sound and fury, ultimately symbolized nothing. That Casey isn’t indicative of an entire generation of women raised with no expectations of responsibility, fed a steady diet of promiscuity and partying, and then expected to, somehow, transition to the surely dull-by-comparison life of a dutiful wife and loving mother.
Somehow being the key word. There is no transition point outlined in this plan; no guide book on how a woman can go from indulging all of her desires and fantasies to something as boring as adult responsibility.
As an extreme example, Casey symbolizes a generation of women encouraged to exploit their ability to sexually manipulate men and spend their youth engaged in promiscuity, or sexual “exploration,” or “finding herself.” The idea that multiple sexual partners has no lasting affect on a woman, after which she can partner up and marry someone later on, once her looks and fertility begin to fade…
What could possibly go wrong?
There was a time, a long time ago, when Hollywood was genuinely socially conscious. Not the kind of agenda-driven, make-believe “social consciousness” of today, but when Hollywood was able to produce films serving as cautionary tales with a simple and clear morality for the viewer. With that in mind, I’d like to conclude with Dracula (1931).
Count Dracula is the sexy, foreign alpha male, roaming the night in search of virginal female flesh. When Dracula would seduce a woman to her doom, he wouldn’t kill her, but only leaving her soulless, like the walking undead.
Because how else could she ever even bear to look at her boring beta-boyfriend again after a night with the Count?
Women are drawn to Dracula because they innately desire the need-less alpha male. What was once her small village, became her big city, and now with online dating, she has a virtually infinite supply of alpha men to charm her, fuck her, and leave her metaphorically soulless.
We’ve gone from a culture that warned against the malicious intent of Chad Dracula, to one which actively encourages his wrath — and women will never be the same.
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