Sexual strategy is like that scene at the end of Wargames where Joshua the computer tries to launch nuclear weapons and start World War 3; the computer cycles-through launch codes quickly while keeping the bits of code that are a positive match. Most people unconsciously allow their brain to do this work, matching behaviors with their positive outcomes, and bookmarking those behaviors while discarding the ineffective.
The conversation almost always goes like this when you tell someone that everything a person does stems from a foundation of sexual strategy: they listen patiently, provide the socially customary nods of understanding, and then say something like, “well, okay, but not everything…”
This certainly seems like it could be the case; it almost feels reductionist on some level to think that men and women are constantly being guided through their choices and actions by some invisible force emanating from their genitalia, silently screaming at them to just get it the fuck in like a pack of dogs in heat. That there must be a special designation, or a degree of intellectual sophistication , which separates the human animal from his more primitive underlings.
And this is certainly true; the human animal is civilized. We are conscious of a wider-span of potential emotions, and are gifted with the ability to fulfill more significant goals than simply eating and fucking. We can shape our consciousness with language, and vocabulary, and with language comes access to higher level thinking.
It’s a lot like when you were a kid in kindergarten, at the beginning of the school year, with all your little school supplies. You mom could have gotten you the boring eight pack of Crayolas, but you wanted the big box of sixty-four; you know, the kind that comes with the crayon sharpener. So instead of just “red” and “blue,” you had a whole variety of different shades of the same color to pick from, and lucky you, right?
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 was never another time historically where having a conversation about the basic nature of reality- what we encounter in our lived experiences- would have made much sense. Rather, it would have come off as insanity, but here we are in our horrifying alternate-1985 wasteland engaged in a perpetual argument over what should be the prologue of the story.
Reality should be our starting point, the toolkit and blueprint for human greatness, not a prolonged debate.
But what the fuck is reality? Tough to know in a world of misinformation and unreality, served by people raised on the same deliberate bullshit. Modernity is a nice sounding hypothesis playing out in real time, but without an end-date to honestly access the damn thing. The people who drew it up are long dead, and what’s left are loudmouth idiots and unreality profiteers.
Someone working deep inside the Clinton campaign must really fucking hate her guts. Old Hillary is gearing up for an appearance on the Ellen show alongside the entire cast of the smelly-like-farts “Ghostbusters” (2016) re-make. I am praying to Jesus that she comes out with the stupid uniform on, personalized with CLINTON across the left breast; she can have her own proton pack, maybe some impromptu CG will be employed. Please God, make her the honorary fifth Ghostbuster.
Don’t just finger me, God; I want it all the way in.
This stupid movie has the stink of death, and for Clinton to attach herself to it almost certainly means that someone working for her is either certifiably retarded or absolutely insane… but why is this movie so particularly hated?
After all, “Ghostbusters” is a movie and movies are bad.
While pacing an empty classroom after hours, door shut and blinds drawn, dictating a clumsy outline for why the movie “Overboard” (1987)- yes, “Overboard”- provides sufficient evidence for the success of a Trump/Sanders dream ticket, I can’t help but feel like I’m sneaking pop-rocks after brushing my teeth. I’m in too deep and I’m clapping wildly at show ponies. Dogs jumping through flaming hoops. Hot dogs and Easter candy. Junk food. Bullshit.
None of this means anything, but I can’t quit Donald Trump.
I’ve become a political junkie cheering for a puppet show. I want to see Ravishing Rick Rude with the WWF gold- taunting the fat, out of shape, low-T, liberal sweat hogs. I want the mere words “President Trump” to be a passive aggressive trigger striking rotten disdain into the hearts of all who oppose.
It was really just a joke, I swear. I think of something that makes me laugh, and I want to share. Mrs. Larcey was right all along, standing in our empty Biology classroom deep in 1994, it’s true- I do think I’m funny. But this was meant to be harmless! My god! Just a little bit of joking around after having my car broken into.
First time in my life too. I got in my car Sunday morning, ready to go to the gym, thinking “gee, I don’t remember throwing all my stuff around like a crazy person,” before it hit me:
Abortion is a non-issue in pre-collapse America. While it’s certainly a practice which renders the woman a victim- of her own short sighted naivete- it isn’t a conversation that needs to be had in our current state of decline.
This is what separates the naive cuckservative from the savvy reactionary: Alternative 1985 America cannot be saved, and the warm fuzzy 1955, the one with the Enchantment Under the Sea dance, has been erased- the only path available is a complete reset.
As a politician, Donald Trump can’t outright say that America must be destroyed so he’s instead reframed the dark message of reboot into a glossier, big budget, Hollywood-style blockbuster: Make America Great Again. But it then becomes important to examine what was lost in translation.
The game plan is always the same. It goes exactly like this: the Progressive will cite hypocrisy as the greatest possible sin; in particular, hypocrisy in the face of lofty moral ambition (Progressive mortal sin). They then hijack and redefine an opposing group’s beliefs under the guise of faux-concern. When genuine members of that group don’t live up to this new redefinition of their mission and intentions, the Progressive shames members of the group with accusations of hypocrisy.
This is the Progressive go-to. It doesn’t change because it doesn’t need to change; it almost always seems to work.
So the faux-concerned, intellectually superior Progressive will explain to the Christian that Christianity is defined as limitless charity and altruism (specifically altruism to those not part of your own community/tribe/nationality), and when the Christian fails to live up to this impossible standard, the Progressive will claim that “Christianity is about hypocrisy,” and then pats herself on the back as a job well-done.
There is something beautifully Fascist about the White House soaked in the gay rainbow. As a fan of Fascist imagery, and Fascism in general, I
can’t help but admire this.
Fascism is about strength and congruence; uncompromising and unapologetic. Fascism is not about voice, Fascism is about hierarchy and dominance. A dominant leader should lead to feelings of comfort and safety in those led; a well-kept pet will respect the dominance of their master, a good wife will find comfort in the leadership of her husband.
However, a productive Fascist state needs a benevolent Fascist leader. Historically this has been a real bitch to hammer down. So while I admire President Obama’s force and congruence here, I question his intent and the long-term results of such intent.
Duty is not something a person will choose when given the option to make their own decisions; by-definition “duty” is an imposition and a responsibility- duty is about limiting personal freedom for the best interest of civilization.
A dutiful citizen is necessary for a functional civilization- this includes duty to family, duty to community, and duty to country. Although duty isn’t necessarily enjoyable by the modern understanding of the term- flashing lights and lines of cocaine- it must be prioritized above personal pleasure. Duty must be foremost, and whatever enjoyment gleaned from life beyond duty becomes secondary.
Like getting all your homework done on a Friday night before hunkering down and playing Ikari Warriors; a life well-lived, and a little bit of fun too.
The sexy appearance of modernity has made the dutiful life seem boring by comparison. The modern Progressive will view humility as a kind of self-imposed naivety– the dutiful experience has become synonymous with missing out on life; life as defined by escalating consumption.
When Dorothy clicks her heels at the end of The Wizard of Oz (1939) repeating “there’s no place like home,”she is acknowledging that happiness isn’t something that must be found in extreme individualism and a highly stimulating landscape; happiness isn’t about consumption. There is beauty in humility.
Dorothy learns the value in calm stability, and a life with family.
Thematically,The Wizard of Ozwould be lost on the modern Progressive, confused as to why Dorothy didn’t stay in Oz, find a solid drug dealer, and a few dozen Alpha males to party with.
The very same modern Progressive is staunchly in favor of abortion.