You Will Move On

No, this is not a "BPS is moving on from the Manosphere" post.

It's an observation of over the last 4 years or so, plus spending a month or so reviewing the past 12-odd years of my life. Also a few observations from my formative years and all.

Surprisingly, it's also an observation about growth. I'm not sure if Captain Capitalism has put it into his Curse of the High IQ book - I will reread and see. It's easy to do when it's winter here in NZ, after 6pm everything is dark and the fire or heat pump is going.

(Yes, cold. Yes, wet. Thank you Tongan eruption. Weeks on end of rain. Good that I have both a fire and a heatpump, because I'll run out of seasoned wood soon. I need to stock up, double the amount that I had and let it season for a couple of years. Maybe I should triple the size of the firewood shed and triple the amount on hand, to be absolutely certain.)

At any rate, two observations. During your life:

1/ You will grow.

2/ Others will sit in one place.

This is not a condemnation of their choice - MGTOW, that's the path they've chosen. Go for it.

From the perspective of the Man who is growing, you will move on.

As you grow, you will move on to other and (in your personal opinion, per your personal path) more rewarding things in life.

Others will stay in their place.

They might be upset at you moving on. They might not care. From your perspective, it is not relevant. 

You have moved on.

In the end you are only a tiny little ripple in the river of humanity. Your moving on will not make any big changes to others. They are where they are, they are doing what they are doing, because that is the path they've chosen.

You have moved on.

Over my life, I have moved on from many things:

* My home town.

* My friends.

* My new town.

* My new friends.

* My new-new town.

* My new-new friends.

* Several communities (some in the real world, some in the internet - 5 in the past 12 years, 3-4 that I can remember in the years prior to that).

Some things you will stay in distant contact with. Family members. I have several extended whanau who are still where they are. I have moved on - though I stay in contact with them. I'm basically forced to, even though we have nothing much in common. They are still in their place.

I do stay in contact with at least one person from one of the prior communities. He's a good bloke, much nicer than I am. We still have a TGIF on Fridays - at least, when we're not working from home or in Covid lockdown. There will be a few people like that. That's good.

Growth demands moving on. Otherwise you become stuck, to sit in one place all your life.

Having moved on from a community about a month ago, I've been reflecting back on things. Moving on seems (for myself) to be a part of growth.

Growing my life (in this case: income) by a substantial amount in the past year, it has been evident to me that it was time to move on. That community was taking a lot of my personal energy and time. Personal energy and time that would be better put somewhere else, for my personal benefit.

I've been asking myself questions: Should I seek another community to become a part of?

Answer: Why bother?

I will grow and move on from it in a few years.

Especially the communities which are rife with nasty people. They're like lice or maggots, they appear everywhere. Remember: You don't have time for that crap. Places, echo-chambers of toxic crap will drag you down and hold you back.

The only thing that you have time for is your personal path. Period. Remember: You Are MGTOW. You are following your path.

Some people are good to stay in contact with. The rest of them in said community though, sad sacks of shit who are in one place. No time for their constant femicunt-inspired drama and horseshit.

In the end, like many things in life, it was time to make the decision. I chose to pull the trigger...

...and Elvis (hah so conceited on my part) has left the building. Silently. No drama. Like a ghost that was never there.

After a month - not even a ripple to remember me by. Good. They are not relevant to me. I am not relevant to them. They will continue, the community and its members going on as always, in their path as mine diverges away.

I have moved on. As will you.

Checking In

Black Poison Soul, checking in. Eyes, balls, brains - all here, all connected. Let us begin.

Many things have happened over the last six months. The big one: the Big C. For two members of my family. One survived. One died. We continue on.

Sometimes you run across people who have real soul. I ran across one. I have been helping him, in my small way. Not with marital/life problems - he don't need it. (At least, not so far as I know.) Helping him with a personal programming project of his. It has zip to do with the manosphere, so a nice break during an otherwise difficult time. He offered to repay me, I laughed. Some times, some things, you just gotta do what you gotta do, you know what I mean?

Looking back - eleven years. Definitely not to the freaking day, though I can't be arsed to look it up and all. Pretty sure it was this month though - February, my parasite removed. Kinda surprising.

What has changed?

Despite the difficulties of the last six months, not a lot has changed in developed attitude. Though there has been a lot of philosophical thought going on. Some planning done. Some things are more clear-cut. Some things are seen, in retrospect, as being damned-well worth it. Even though they hurt like hell at the time. Even though it's wading through shit and wondering why the hell you're doing it and all.

The learning experience wasn't easy. The experience itself though - far, far more worthwhile than gold. Being able to write about it too. Even if Google's shitbox reckons that I'm a far-right nutjob who would destabilize society et-fucking-cetera LMAO! Oh yeah, devoice BPS, who gives a fuck? This is more and better therapy than paying some high-charging asshole.

Looking around at the FUD - Fear, Uncertainty, Doubt - that is being spread by the media and politicians? Me destabilize society? Hah. 1984, V for Vendetta, in a nutshell. The Communist handbook of destabilizing a country, followed to a T. For the stupid serf parasites: enjoy your brainwashing. Your ancestors worked their guts out for you to be free. You weakly pissed it away. You are slaves now. Much deserved, enjoy sucking cock of the rich and powerful to get ahead.

For a little while.

I find it somewhat amusing. History is there, to be willfully ignored and destroy ourselves - an almost priceless joke. Sad, yet priceless in its' way. When you watch it happen...well, that's done and dusted, innit?

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I look back at what my ancestors did 2 generations ago. Only 2 generations. My grandfather and family went from England to Aussie, six months on a sailing ship, wife and two newborn kiddies. He was one of those poor suckers lied to and stolen from: "Yup, there's good land there - pay us X pounds and here's passage on a ship, there'll be good farmland when you arrive for you and your family to own and work on and grow stuff for yourselves." Poor fuckers. On arrival, welcome to the land of sand and snakes and spiders the size of your hand. Farmland? What fucking farmland?

Fuck me. Rude shock? Fuckin' aye!

He was one of those lucky bastards who managed to hop the family aboard a ship to New Zealand. Swamp and bush and rugged hills and bluffs up the Far North of the North Island. Breaking in the native bush, punga's and supplejack and kauri and manuka and swampy peat, turning it into good farmland. Slowly nursing a couple of cows into a small herd to sell the milk and some meat. Gut-wrenching work through WWI and WWII supporting the troops, bringing up 7 kids, and he died of a brain tumor.

More Big-C. Grandfather and Grandmother both. A hard pair, tough, yet it'll take them from ya. It kinda runs in the family - other members have died from it too, in various forms. Probably I'll die from it. Seem clean at the moment, you never know though: men have a higher chance of prostate cancer than wimminz do of breast cancer. Get it checked occasionally, y'know?

So. A hard pair. Not gutless in the slightest. If they'd stayed in England they'd have been serfs for the rest of eternity, which is what's happening to the remaining English anyways. Lords and Masters, and serfs and slaves. Bringing in the shitty parasites from other countries to screw up the serf/slaves even more, which is what joining the EU did to them as a whole. Brexit? Get a wriggle on hahahahah!

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So what can we, shall we say, retain for ourselves? Since most of society and das guberment seems hell-bent on taking it all from us. Some thought and philosophical bits of advice as it were...

Don't get too attached. To people, to money, to possessions. Of them all, people are the most important - yet life will take them away from you. I'm not saying be buddy-buddy with all and sundry, and fuck me I hate the people like that. Probably because I'm more the reclusive/antisocial type as it were. You'll find the occasional one with real soul though, and I'm glad to have one real close one in my brother and have run across a few others. Priceless people.

So, how to survive? There's two paths:

1/ Be a slave, own nothing, be a parasite.

2/ Get ahead, don't expect help from anyone (except maybe family) and don't let anyone else know.

That's right. Don't let anyone else know.

Practically of course, that's impossible. Someone is going to know. Lawyers and bankers, those fuckers and complete assholes. Of course, you pay them to keep their gobholes shut. Which if you're getting ahead, you can do.

Gubnermint, well you're fucked there. They will know everything. Unless you can go complete bush, go troppo as they say in Aussie (aka a little bit fucking mad), you're gonna be on das guberment's radar. You can't help that. Just keep your nose clean and your head down.

Wimminz...wimminz, wimminz, wimminz...don't own anything. Always be renting. And like how the fuck do you do that, if/when you're trying to get ahead? You get a home in a Trust, perhaps managed by someone you trust (hahah) and you act like all the rest of your liddle weeble fellow-slaves. Don't bother talking to 'em though - be the antisocial type.

So far as anyone knows you're just like everyone else, living hand-to-mouth and paying the fucking rent to some rich asshole. The difference is that you are quietly becoming the rich asshole. Call the trust something very innocuous ("IMF Trust" - "In Mala Fide Trust" - In Bad Faith Trust heh) and you pay rent into it every freaking week year-in, year-out. Especially after the house is paid off, you keep paying that fucking rent while the Trust goes and quietly gets another house. And another. Ain't nothing and nobody to say different.

If you *do* decide to retire early (after say 3-4 properties in the Trust) - nobody needs to know that either. You're just changing jobs. (To stay-at-home fisherman, and handyman, or antiques dealer, or whatever - you know it makes sense.) This is actually what my brother's in the process of doing, though he's stupid enough to tell people he's retiring. I'm thinking of suggesting that he "find other work". His current employers doesn't need to know that his new work is as a freaking landlord.

Maybe he mows lawns and does handyman work for a living, aka maintains his property. Hell, maybe he can actually do that on the grey market, under the radar, for the other old dears.

Best is that you're still under the radar to teh wimminz and other assorted maggots and parasites of what we will loosely call society.

I don't say avoid teh wimminz. You got needs, yah? If that's your way, that's your way - be careful, make sure not to get the wrong one preggers and all. Never lettum know you're rich as Croesus - never let that Camel get it's head in the damn tent. Little head should never override the big one, you know it. If you do accidentally latch up with one, you're still paying rent, only it's for fucking eternity now that you have wife and kidlets to provide for as well.

If by God you manage to actually find a halfway decent wimminz (few and far between, maybe 5% - 'cause it's statistically impossible for them all to be complete and utter shit and without redemption et-fucking-cetera) you're always, eternally, paying rent. Unless you happen to know without a doubt that she's got a boatload of stuff as well. In that case, your choice. Little head, big head, remember! Just take it fuckin' slow and all.

It would be a disaster if she turned out not to be as great as you thought. Your Trust will be broken up "for the good of the childreeeeen". Which if the bitch had never learned about it, the childreeeeen would have been well-taken-cared-of until well after your death. Grandchildren and great-grandchildren as well. Lemme draw you a picture:

* Every house that the Trust buys and rents out for more cashola etc will be theirs eventually. You're just a friggin' handyman hired to keep the things in decent shape.

* You can "help" organize the kids into a rental home for a long while, which if they fuck the place up aka cause damage to it you can by God ream their asses and "fix it up before the damn landlord finds out and evicts you stupid fuckers". And charge them for it out the wazoo as an extra lesson. 'Cause in this day and age, renting forever is about all that most people will be able to do. Especially if they have the massive student loans that is the whacked-out peculiar way of doing things these times.

* On your death, it'll be a nice little caring touch - showing you *actually* fucking care deeply for them and always did - when they learn that the house they've been renting has been their fucking inheritance all along. As well as a few more houses owned by the Trust, and a tidy fucking sum in cash and other assets, etc etc etc. None of it where anyone can get their sticky damn fingers into and spend like a sailor on shore leave.

* By that point nobody but nobody can break it all up "for the good of the childreeeeen" - 'cause the grandchildren have zero, zip, nada say in the whole bizness. Teh wimminz, if she survives you, will be cared for and cannot split anything out to fritter it away on dresses/handbags/shoes and running around "finding herself" aka chasing foreign cock. By that point she shouldn't fucking want to anyway, though some'a them are still bloody deluded and think they're God's gift to young men and young cock 'cause 50 is the new 30 for fucks sake.

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So there's a basic how-to. My brother and I are both following it, in our different ways: his kids and grandkids will be provided for anyways by him, and my stuff will go to them as well 'cause goodness knows I have no kids to be weaponized against me. Which sucks in a way. I guess that I'll have to spoil the fuck outta my grand-nieces and -nephews instead.

"Grand-Uncle! Stop spoiling the kids!" And I'll laugh my ass off 'cause I can. 'Cause in the end, family (so long as they're raised right) and people with soul are the only thing really worthwhile.

I ain't saying it's the only way to do things. At least you (I) will be well-cared-for in your (my) old age. And a helluva surprise for the extended whanau (family) as it were.

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There it is - BPS, still hanging in there. We Men survive and recover, generally no matter how grim things get. Being thoughtful, not pissing it all away, life is still very very good. And always getting better.

Almost in my position of Fuck You. Though I refuse to pull a dramatic Fuck You with work. That's juvenile, stupid stuff. Currently looking around in the crazy New Zealand housing market - frothy as hell here, especially in the last 3 months - for my next house to buy. So much leaky-home dogshit to wade through, ugh.

Still doing it though. 'Cause I'm damned if I'm going to be dependent upon someone else when I get older. I'm gonna enjoy my final years on my terms, a little travel, a little photography, a little Grand Marnier, and Fuck You to anyone who wants to deprive me of that.

Glasses high, brothers. To your health and life! - BPS

Forget Why

Why is irrelevant.

Do you get that? Completely irrelevant.

There is no rational why.

I remember back to the ending "conversation" with my last girl, must be close to three years ago now. ("Conversation" hah! She turned up at an awkward time of night, barged in, and was basically being a self-centered bitch on the whole instead of leaving me alone when I made it clear that I wasn't interested any more.)

I got her the hell out of my home in the guise of "dropping her off to her hotel". She asks if she'll be seeing me again.

Me: No.

Her: Why not?

Me: I don't want to.

Her: Finish that sentence! (A quite loud'n'clear self-centered "I am entitled to know why!")

Me: I don't want to see you again. (Yeah, it's a total lack of interest, now stay the fuck away.)

Her face scrunches up and she heads away to her room, probably because I shattered her heart'n'soul. I leave, not caring at all.

Yes, teh wimminz would call me a fuckin' psychopath. Given what she did to me, there was no interest left on my side. That is my "why" for treating her like that.

Yet still. There is no "why" in life.

There is only: I want to X/I don't want to X.

I want to see you again. I don't want to see you again.

I want to fuck you again. I don't want to fuck you again.

I want to read that book again. I don't want to read that book again.

I want to see that movie again. I don't want to see that movie again.

I want to continue hanging around those people. I don't want to continue hanging around those people.

Why? I can come up with a million "reasons" for "why". They're not relevant. Not really. The "why" is just the brain attempting to provide a rational reason of some type. A rational reason for an internal emotional reaction.

Essentially it boils down to: I want to / I don't want to. The rest of the palaver is just social self-justification and face-saving.

In the guts of it, the want-to/don't-want-to is an emotional inner reaction, not something intellectually reasoned out. Not in the guts of it.

She wants to fuck you. She doesn't want to fuck you.

She wants to fuck you again. She doesn't want to fuck you again.

Why do you care why? Why do you want to know why?

Forget why. There is no why. There is only a gut-basic reaction, a feeling, of: "I want to / I don't want to".

She wants a boyfriend. She doesn't want a boyfriend.

She wants to be married. She doesn't want to be married.

She wants to be married to you. She doesn't want to be married to you.

She wants to part her legs for you. She doesn't want to part her legs for you.

Even when the basic "I don't want to" shatters her/your soul. And you, or her, start going down down down the rabbit-hole of emotional turmoil and horseshit.

>>>> Why?!?!?!!!! <<<< Add insistent whiny brat emotional crap as appropriate. You and/or her both.

There is no why. Down at the core, it just fucking is.

Make me want to, rather than not want to. Teh wimminz, leftists, femiwhores, the unwashed mass of generally shitty people on the whole, will never truly grasp that. Make me want to, rather than not want to.

Being a complete cunt is not making me want to X. It makes me not want to X. Fill in the X with whatever is appropriate.

Summertime in New Zealand. I'm starting to do more outdoor stuff.

Why? I want to. There may be many "reasons". They all boil down to: I want to.

Deep down in the guts of it. It's an emotional thing. There's no real reason as such for it. That's why.

You Talk Too Much - TGI Friday Edition

Most times something interesting comes out of our TGI Friday. (Guns, wimminz, hunting, customers, archery, bikes, camping, surfing, life - all sorts of stuff that I don't share on here). We had a goodie this Friday though: guy finally got (aka paid) his ex the fuck out of his home (it took 3-4 years?!?!?! and cost you how much in the end?!?!?! fuck me...)

When she's out of his life, last few bits of driving her shit around, just to make sure it's the fuck out and etc. She starts jawing and jabbering about her family shit. "So and so brother's, sister's, husband's, second cousin..." blah blah fucking blah.

He had a moment of sanity. As he said to us: "Hey. You walked the fuck away from me. I don't know why you want to tell me this crap. This is no longer relevant to me. Not interested."

Object lesson right there on getting her the fuck out of yours ASAP when things go south. Otherwise you're still wasting time, energy, life on someone who has basically said "I don't want you between my legs, piss off..." yet she is quite happy to suck the rest of everything out of you.

The actual words and excuses she used don't matter. They are meaningless. She still wants out of your life...

...and you're still wasting your time, energy, life on that. Until you realize.

You ain't related to it.

You ain't married to it.

You ain't best buddies with it. (Fucking aye you ain't best buddies with it! What, you nuts?)

You shouldn't have it in your life any more. It's just another leech on you.

Literally a leech. Still sucking down your time, energy, life.

When what you really want to do is what he's doing. Makes his dinner in the skillet. Eats out of the skillet. Cleans up and puts it in the rack. Life is simple, life is great.

Nice, simple, easy, not 15 separate pots per meal for something that really tastes only mediocre. Then she bitches about how long a day she's had etc. That doesn't actually matter. Not to you. You just want a decent, filling, tasty meal. Here she's put 15 separate pots into the sink, is bitching about cleanup (trying to get you to do it), and she asks the loaded question: "What'd you think of dinner?"

You can be the tactless "complete asshole" and say "it was okay". Because that's all it was. It was an okay meal.

You learn not to do that if you're married. You *know* what she'll be like for the next month - and intermittently for the rest of your life, whenever she feels like being a bitch.

So you grit your teeth, praise the meal to the skies, then go over to her and hug and kiss her and guide her to the couch and sit her down and clean the goddamn 15 pots that she messed up. Funny, this one looks like all she did with it was boil water. Better not mention that.

Yet hang on man.

She doesn't want you between her legs. Piss off.

By all means, be as stupid as you want. I'll continue to laugh at you for bein' a fuckin' dipshit.

The longer it takes you to wake up, the harder I'll be laughing at you once you get it together.

Yes, I know that's crushing your soul. So? Do you really have any actual, valid reason for being such a completely stupid idiot?

I didn't think so.

Do I *actually* enjoy your pain? Fuck no!

I am gonna laugh at you though. The more that my laughter hurts you, the harsher the lesson. Which is really all that I can honestly do for you. Drive that lesson home into your heart, rub salt into it, and make you hurt so badly that you will never forget that hurt which was done to you.

By me? You know better. You did it to yourself. You let *her* do it to you. You're just too chickenshit to admit it to yourself.

Back to him. He's been dating around. As I guess many do, when divorce hits us. Conditioned to have a wimminz in our lives, come hell or high water...

...except that these wimminz are expecting to go out. All the time. "What are we going to do this Friday night?" she asks him. "Eh. The weather's not that great. I think I'll have myself a nice bourbon on lemon ice, sit in front of the fire with a book, relax and read for the night." Sounds good to me. To her though: "What what what what what?"

And she completely cannot understand it. The concept of actually stopping, relaxing, doing something quietly - it means nothing to her. It's meaningless. She has to be *out there*, *being seen*, *doing something* - all that social shit that in her mind means "a good time".

As he says: he'd rather sit in front of a nice fire, sipping bourbon, reading a good book. The drama and insanity can stay out of his door. He's got his shelter, warmth, a good-tasting drink, and some interesting and thoughtful mental stimulation.

He's starting to realize the joys of personal peace and quiet.

Not hanging around with someone who talks too fuckin' much. Especially about utterly meaningless drivel.

Brother, have a bourbon. You've earned it. Good on you for starting to realize what life actually *is* to you, versus what other people *think life is* and *think your life should be*.

In Your Face

A few weeks ago I noticed some younger bloke driving a car with a number plate that essentially stated: No fucks given.

While I applaud the sentiment, something about it has nagged me. Quite a bit. My brain being slow at times, it has taken a while to figure out what was bugging me.

Actually, he does give a fuck. It's straight there in the "in your face" attitude that he's displaying to the world. Which is all cool and all, that's his thing. At least he's up front about it.

It occurs to me though: a true "no fucks given" attitude doesn't feel the need to slam it out in the world's face. A true no fucks given attitude just goes off and does what it wants. It doesn't require telling others about it (essentially, angrily giving the world the finger).

It just buggers off and does what it wants. If you don't like it, so what? You're not relevant. Certainly not to me. Stop poking your nose into my business, my life, my thoughts. Just leave me be and we'll get along swimmingly.

Which is I believe what the disappearing types of MGTOW do. They're doing their own thing. They don't have the urge to tell others what they're up to. They don't care about those others - the others are simply not relevant to them.

Which is an interesting thought when it comes to much of the Manosphere community and MGTOW. I've noticed it over the last three-four years. Some people become...

...less communicative...

...and eventually disappear.

They're slowly growing to the true point of no fucks given. While they might have philosophical thoughts about the subject, there is no urge to pass those thoughts on. It's just internalised and acted upon in the way they see fit.

I've noticed it with Hawaiian Libertarian. He's off doing his own thing, there's almost no interest in letting others know. (I applaud that by the by. I hope that he's doing well.)

I see Aaron Clary, Captain Capitalism, still putting up examples and the like of social stupidity. There is still much anger and frustration in him, in many of us. Somehow, I think that if he starts changing to a true viewpoint of no fucks given, he will slowly and quietly disappear from the scene. Good luck to you, Aaron.

I've noticed it a bit myself since my holiday in America. Something about the silence and being away by myself for a month has seeped into me. Maybe lodged itself into my soul, for want of a better metaphor.

A slow point of reassessment? I am unsure.

The stupidities of the world, society, and people are still there. I still look at them and marvel at times.

In the end though ... No real fucks are given. It's too big, it's too stupid, it's too sheeplike, it's too self-destructive. I refuse to stand in the front of the stampede, screaming warnings, only to be crushed into a bloody pulp.

Ghosting? No. I like many things about the world. There are many places to visit, many people who are actually worthwhile to meet (damn it, I missed out talking with Big Country in person - there is a Man with a fuck-ton of life and experiences!), many things that I find interesting.

Just not the damn social lemmings charging headlong over the cliff. Dull, uninteresting, bland. The sooner they are over that cliff and gone, the better.

I don't really have much of a point to this post. I suppose that it's a kind of explanation and apology of why I've not been around much.

I do strongly suggest, though: get yourself some camping gear and go bush for a while, even if it's just driving around the tourist traps and staying in hotels and camping grounds. Try to keep interacting with people to a minimum.

Talking and yap-yap with the useless types can be your enemy these days. Seek the more interesting people who have actually lived and have stories to tell. Especially the older people. Even if you have nothing to tell in exchange, they are giving you the gift of experience to listen and learn from.

Something about doing that changes your mindset. You start to realize what actually is relevant, what is needed, what is useful, and what is pure garbage.

Then you can work on purging the garbage.

I am still around and do check back fairly often. Just not huge on the talking at the moment. Maybe the urge will come back, not sure.

Be well, Brothers.

Something To Bitch About

This is some theoretical stuff today. I've been thinking about it for a couple of days, it seems to correlate with my personal experiences. Think it through for yourself, your mileage might vary.

We all know that teh wimminz love to bitch. (In fact, if they don't bitch they will probably blow up. Too much pressure inside and no safety-valve. We don't want to be around when she blows up.)

Looked at in one aspect, the whole of feminazism is just one huge bitch that's gotten to the point of blowing up. (Fucking whining over petty bullshit. Bah.)

Interestingly, a man I know floated an idea past our small group of guys on Friday at our TGI Friday lunchfest. He reckoned that a beard has two functions:

1/ To keep the face warm in winter. (Which it is heading that way now in NZ.)

2/ To give her something minor to bitch about.

Now, in some parts of the manosphere - being an asshole is "the thing". If you think about it, being an asshole gives her a sub-rosa benefit. Effectively along the lines of giving her something to bitch about. (She will never acknowledge this.)

Which kind of makes sense given the comments re beards above.

So taking this theoretically.

If she has something minor to bitch about (ie you're actually a man who doesn't kowtow to her, rather than a soyboy pussy fag yes-man slave who attempts to kiss her ass out of cringing fear all the time) then she's letting off steam - pressure - in small doses.

For you poor bastards in a relationshit that seems to be going south: try growing your beard. Just to piss her off a little and give her something concrete and petty to bitch about.

Hell, rasp her fuckin' face with it. In fact, her whole damn body, if you know what I mean. Just scratch her up a little everywhere.

Cross fingers, this'll keep the pressure from building up to where she goes full-on crazy cunt - leading to frivorce.

(What, she wouldn't like that? Grow a fuckin' spine you maggot. Your cringing is despicable, take your fuckin' balls back outta her purse. Cast those motherfuckers in concrete. Then slap her across the face with 'em. Right, she now has something concrete to bitch about - instead of you being a soyboy pussy fag yes-man slave who attempts to kiss her ass out of cringing fear all the time.)

Good luck, men. Now go out and enjoy yourselves.

Consequence

Yes, I'm going back to The Matrix: Reloaded. Specifically, The Merovingian and the concept of causality:

Action. Reaction.

Cause and effect.

You think you have a choice. In reality, that's only a very small part of the total equation. The tiniest part of it, the mere beginning.

Choice and consequences.

The bigger part - really the only relevant part - is the results. What is the end-result. What is the consequence.

The choice is a seed. The consequences might be an enormous tangled web that you had absolutely no inkling of when you planted that seed.

For men:

You can choose to be a pansified blue-pill simp, soy-boy, etc. This has a consequence of you helplessly dancing to someone else's tune.

You can choose to be a PUA. This has a consequence of you fucking plenty of other women.

You can choose to be a MGTOW. This has a consequence of seeing through the bullshit, refusing to deal with many aspects of it, and basically ending up an alienated Lone Wolf type.

Some people choose to go full-on Ghost. Call that MGTOW ^ 10. I'm not certain what the full consequences of that are. Even some of the consequences. A mystery to me.

Some consequences have hidden negatives and positives. As a blue-pill simp you have an almost-certain chance of having your emotions and head messed around. Also a very high chance of being divorce-raped, your children used as weapons against you, and the next several years being spent paying someone else to spread her legs for a variety of other men.

As a PUA, you effectively have to act like a slightly better grade of blue-pill simp. You entertain someone else of generally low mental acuity and likely zero basic ethics, on the off-chance that you will get to fuck her. Even Roosh V came to hate the thought of being a dancing monkey for someone else's entertainment.

As a MGTOW, you become slowly more insulated from the emotional/mental turmoil and general bullshit that the opposite sex generates. You start seeing through the smoke-and-mirrors illusions. You start choosing (with varying consequences) what you allow into your life. One originally-unintended consequence is a better, more relaxed life and lifestyle.

As a Ghost, you completely insulate yourself from the warped system that is our society, our civilization. I have only inklings of what the consequences of this might be. I suspect more do-it-yourself hardship. As a side-effect though, I suspect one hell of a lot more personal satisfaction is involved with this choice.

I also suspect that surviving as a Ghost is where the *real* men will develop themselves. In comparison the rest of us are children. Teenagers at best.

For women:

You can choose to be a crazy, feral cunt who parts her legs for anyone that turns you on at the moment. The consequences include:

* becoming an effective nymphomaniac aka sex maniac

* becoming destroyed "down there" (those vibrating baseball bats can't be good for you)

* becoming unable to bond with others in any way

* emotional and mental instability

* several personal STDs

* several unwanted children that you have to "raise" alone

* several fucked up next generations

* an overall degeneration of the civilization/society that you live in

You can choose to be the more "traditional" type of woman. The consequences (might) include:

* bonding strongly with someone who will actually be with you all your life

* emotional and mental stability

* very likely good health and life (shit sometimes happens)

* an exceptional family

* exceptional next generations

* an overall improvement of the civilization/society that you live in

Notes:

1/ I deliberately left out cats.

2/ Any backsliding, even once, turns you into a crazy feral cunt. You can't change once that happens. Remorse simply doesn't cut it. Nor can you change or be "born again" or whatever delusions you might attempt to shove down others' throats.

3/ Nobody - men or women - understands what the "traditional" type of woman might be. If there ever was such a thing as a Unicorn at all. I strongly suspect that it was only force which caused certain behaviors, which force is now long-gone.

As things are, the aggregate consequences of a large proportion of fucked-up choices and lack of basic ethics are what's causing the fucked-up mess that is our society. No wonder that MGTOW is happening.

Action. Reaction.

Shit in the water. It becomes undrinkable. You get sick and die.

Shit in society. It becomes unworkable. It gets sick and dies.

Good luck with all those consequences.
=============================================
Some personal reflection.

It's been a long set of changes. A weird semi-red-pill quasi-alpha in my youth, to blue-pill simp, the semi-red-pill quasi-alpha borderline-PUA again, to what I guess is full-on MGTOW.

This blog is one helluva mess. Call it 800 posts of general crawling out of the muck, banging the head into the wall over-and-over, looking around and examining the insanity everywhere, traveling through what might be called several moments of clarity.

What's next?

Who the fuck knows?

There may be more thoughts to explore, we will see.

It's better than running through life with a fucked-up mental program of buggered basic ethics, alongside others who are similarly running through life with fucked-up mental programs of no basic ethics coupled with no thought for the consequences or for the future.

Damn near anything has to be better than that.

A Basic Difference

This one's about basic ethics. Also how that translates into basic decency in any society. (At least, any society that I - and likely you - want to be in.)

Yes, an odd topic involving philosophy. Damn relevant though. You see, Leftists and Feminists and Marxists and the entire SJW crowd in aggregate lacks the first (basic ethics), which by extension then translates to them lacking the second (basic decency). You can add that most women on the whole are severely lacking in basic ethics too, which causes further rather large problems.

Let's say that there are two general groups of things in the world. (An academic's $20 word would be "classes" of things.)

The first group might include: my wife, my child, my family, my dog, my cat, my girlfriend, my friends, my employer, my employees, random people and things out in the world. Most people might lump "my job" into this group.

The second group might include: my clothes, my car, my house, my computer, my tools, my garden, my business, my health, my life, my thoughts, my opinions, my time, my choices, my money, and various other "stuff" that you personally own.

There is a basic difference between the two groups.

The second group you are free to do with as you wish. Use them, lose them, wreck them, waste them, whatever - however you wish.

The first group you are not free to do with as you wish. Using them, wrecking them, whatever - is basically called abuse, murder, rape, pedophilia, theft, etc.

(Please note: Unlike the insane leftist brigade, most normal people are fully aware of the difference between beating and discipline. The former is abuse, the latter is intended to teach the difference between accepted/desirable and not accepted/desirable behaviour. The result is dogs which bite the faces off children vs seeing-eye dogs, and destructive criminals vs a scientist or brain-surgeon. Call it useless vs useful, worthless vs worthwhile.)

From this basis of ethics we can see how basic decency flows. Keeping those two groups properly separate makes a person basically decent. You can expect certain reasonable behaviours from them, expect them to not fuck you around, to not steal from you, to not destroy your personal stuff, etc. This doesn't automatically make them a pussy, they're just not gonna fuck you around without a damn good reason (ie some slimy fuck started it).

Of course, mixing the groups has huge potential for fucked-up behaviours. This is where you get mommy dearest frivorcing hubby for $$$ and weaponising "her" children in the process. This is where you get confiscatory taxes that go to pay the "less fortunate" aka deadbeat no-hopers (and those running the scam). This is where you get theft (like the latest South African stealing of land from the Boer farmers).

This is where you get unilateral punishments all out of proportion to the "crime", plus "crimes" which are so stupid that common-sense has been lost in an attempt to "punish" the "guilty".

(Where the fuck does this greedy claiming of high expenses for child support "for the benefit of the childreeeen" come from? Never mind, I already answered: greed.

Where does cheating and cuckoldery come from? From when one of the pair says that the relationship is "for my benefit", rather than "for our benefit". The general benefit of children and society can go hang, fuck ya'all, it's all about me. Me me me me meeeeeeeee!)

Now let's look at the Leftist, Feminist, Marxist, SJW brigade as a whole. These indecent people pieces of shit do not separate these two groups. From this fact flows all the troubles that these scum cause.

Telling you that you will think in certain ways and that certain opinions that you happen to hold are wrong. Censoring the same. Intruding into your personal life and time and space to do so.

Blaming you for the shortcomings of themselves and others.

Stealing from you for the benefit of others (especially themselves).

And if you don't like it: ruining your life (often with manufactured lies - false rape accusations, anyone? Bueller? Bueller?). In extreme cases: imprisoning you or beating you to a bloody pulp or killing you as an example to others who might be thinking of stepping over the line in the sand that they've drawn.

Thank you, Communism. You are a playbook for the worst scum of our and all other society.

This "fuck you very much" brought to you by Crap Colored Glasses, only $1k the pair and cheap at 10x the price. Now for some Grand Marnier to wash the taste of nasty, greasy poison outta my mouth.

Jaded Lone Wolf

With time and experience, I seem to become more filled with cynicism. That's a code-word that translates to "jaded" in older times.

I strongly suspect that it's much the same process for the more hardcore MGTOW who go farther than the lone-wolf state and all the way to full-on ghost. They take it to a deeper, more extreme state than I do. Or am probably willing to do.

I do like some of the good things in life. Example: Grand Marnier. Also, having a steady job with plenty of personal time and leftover $$$$ to go do my own thing. Plus a home half-filled with antiques that I've restored - though I could give up that easily enough. Minimalism is coming easier and leaves more money in the pocket to go enjoy other things.

Strangely enough, teh wimminz are dropping off the radar for me. I can't be arsed with whores of any stripe. They're all "meh" and same-old same-old so far as I'm concerned.

Yes, in prior years I would fuck the occasional woman. Even have relationships as such. So long as she didn't screw up with me. When that happened, she became toast.

These days my tolerance is...

...totally gone.

It's weird. In former times I have happily fucked the girls who've made it plain that they're interested aka asked me. (Complete fuglies and the fucked-in-the-head types aside, because we all need some standards, even if minimal. Plus, please remember, don't stick your dick in crazy. To me, in these days, they're all crazy.)

In the past six months I've turned down a couple of good-looking younger ones. Very good-looking. The types wanting to experiment with an older man. You know there's no real expectations there. Thinking back on it, one of them might have been actual jailbait. Though with 16yo's being legal it's harder to tell here in NZ - if someone is under 16 how are you going to know?

Don't even go close to there. Absolutely not worth it. Not even the Tinder wannabe whores that aren't prostitutes, who just want $50 bucks for a good time.

It seems that I've gotten to the point of having too much experience. I've become filled with cynicism, have become jaded.

I know how it'll end. It's always bad, and I'm always the bad guy. Plus there's a good chance of her getting pregnant - given I have the $$$$, I'll be on the hook for someone else's kid for 20+ years. "He's the daddy!" It happens all the time.

I have no interest in that end. Or anything close to resembling it.

I avoid it by avoiding the beginning.

In a way, I've basically been in monk mode for a year. It's interesting. Maybe my 52yo dick is finally running out of steam...though I don't think that's it. I still get horny, just the big head is finally overpowering the little head 100% of the time.

Probably a good thing. I do have $$$$ - why hand it over to some young slag for a couple of 1-hour fun-time sessions?

"He's the daddy!" "Your honor, he has a vasectomy." "Your facts are irrelevant. You're the daddy. Pay up." Why even risk that?

For "young pussy"? Being the older man with a hot, younger girl riding his dick? Sheeesh...

I don't feel like dealing with the "he's the daddy" shit until I'm 72. Especially for a well-worn slag who's been stretching her cooch with a vibrating baseball-bat since puberty. Also probably had a train run on her nightly for a few weeks on end. Piss on that.

Yes, we have the local slag equivalent of Dubai Porta-Potties here in NZ. They just go up Auckland (or down Wellington) for their train-fest. In my younger years I occasionally had one over for a long-weekend, or a "holiday" week or two. These days they seem to want a minimum of 10 guys giving them a "deep exploratory" workout-and-stretch-fest.

As Popp and Blake would say: "Mooooore coooock!" What a world.

Once you step away from the social bullshit, there's a helluva lot of interesting things going on in it. There's some guys building a clock that will run for 10,000 years (google for "Clock of the Long Now"). Ten thousand fucking years. They're actually installing that thing now.

That's a lot more interesting from a "how the hell do you do that engineering-wise?" perspective than attempting to climb repeatedly into a modern slag's smelly and diseased and well-stretched hole. I want to go visit it (the clock, not the slag's hole) in a few years, once it's complete. (And the goddamn media-circus-furor has died down - I fucking hate crowds of people going "ooh" and "aah" - they're mindless sheep who get on my wick.)

Your particular mileage may vary.

Again, I find myself in a situation of not really having a whole lot of value to say. It feels like I've said it all, and I hate repeating myself too much. Six years of it. Color me bleakly (blackly?) surprised.

Perhaps something more will pop out, have to be expressed. I'm not sure.

Things like the meetoo and timesup crap haven't really pissed me off that much. Neither has idiots in education pulling a "we don't report them and turn them in because that will adversely affect their future and we never actually expected them to pull a gun and kill a bunch of people at school" idiot-fest. If you're not white, you can do a school-shooting as you wish. As for pizzagate, the overall silence is meh.

This stuff seems to be turning into a "what, you expected better? morons" mentality on my part.

What I am sure of is that I need to head over the states for a while. Probably with an RV for transport. Hell, that is luxury in comparison to carting around a bunch of stuff in a car for a couple weeks, and sluicing yourself off in the sea.

I'll get to see some beautiful bits of nature. Ones which haven't been shat on by all and sundry, like we are enthusiastically shitting into the social microclimate of our civilization.

The Crap Colored Glasses™ are still here. It's just that pretty-much everything seems the same. Nothing new under the sun.

Which I suppose is pretty-much because most people - especially most wimminz - are pretty-much the same now too. There's nothing new under the sun.

So I will leave you with this:

Because there is nothing original with any one of these skags these days. They're all the same. The only real difference is how well they hide their "quirks" aka fucked-up-ness.

I will go listen to the rain on the roof now, and begin planning my personal "adventure" - which I'm not going to bother telling most people about. Certainly not some wimminz. And certainly not in any form of depth.

They don't deserve it.

Malocchio

Yet another "lure" to draw us back to the plantation. Beloved of the brainwashed, those who believe in twue wuv and mawwaige - rather than blood, sweat and diesel. (And a $20k diamond ring coupled with a $50k ceremony and holiday.)

Perfect™ for those who will *not* examine reality with any form of thought and willingness to examine things critically. (Protip: skip the lot and go on holiday yourself. You'll save an easy $65k - and your life.)

Do any of these images show a spark of life?

Really? Truly?

I see nothing worth chasing. Nothing at all. An empty shell, a mask, a hollowed-out body-shape around an endlessly sucking void.

Is there a woman out there as alive as I am? If so, I haven't met her yet.

To be fair, most men that I've met are just as dead inside. In that way, they match the women that are around.

The eyes are the window to the soul. The Sermon on the Mount, Christ taught that the eyes were the light of the soul.

Malocchio. The Evil Eye. Did you ever wonder where the Italians got that concept from?

When Rome fell, did they learn? Through their own world of pain? They had MGTOW and a Bachelor Tax back then. Men paid. It was better than the other options.

This is the parade of the modern empowered wimminz. Not the soft glide of what I will call the Warmly Alive™. The full-on cold, jerking, brazen Strut of the Slut™.

Cold, dead eyes. There are a lot of them.

Enjoyment

Almost 5 years yakking on here.

Something like 6-7 since I got divorced.

My life has improved so much since then.

It is 2115 on New Years Eve, here in New Zealand.

I'm about to go sit on my deck with a glass of Grand Marnier and enjoy the silence.

So much better than someone with clue zero earbashing me to death.

Peace

Sitting at the top of a hill.

With a thermos of minestrone soup.

Taking star-shots.

Some things are just purely peaceful. Far away from all distractions, doing things that I enjoy. Nobody bugging me, nobody whining and asking why I do something, nobody telling me that I can't do something.

Find your bit of peace and follow it, whatever it is.

Watch Them Burn

This is #9 of the 36 Stratagems of Ancient China: Watch the fires burning across the river.

To watch the fires burning across the river means to let your enemies destroy themselves. Another way the Chinese express this idea: "Sit on the mountaintop and watch the tigers fight."

This means that you don't need to act - instead, sit back and wait patiently for them to start fighting amongst themselves. It's inevitable. Because teh wimminz are really good at backstabbing each other once they get bored, or crave a little more drama, or what-fucking-ever.

Like Sun Zu (Tzu, more commonly) stated:

If you wait by the river long enough, the bodies of your enemies will float by.

This is why us MGTOW go and do our own stuff. Leave the retards (men and women both) to their entertainments, fun, and assorted idiocies.

While they are chopping themselves down in size, while they are destroying the civilization that was built for their benefit, we are slowly growing and building ourselves up. All out of sight, all where nobody can see and remark upon it, all for our own benefits and enjoyments.

We are quite zen-like and somewhat relaxed in that manner.

Not One Dimensional

At the conclusion of my last post on Empty Shells, I stated:

Fuck bitchez. Get money.

And enjoy yourself.

It occurs to me that many people look at us in the Manosphere and could actually be forgiven for thinking that we are nothing more than little bitches of neckbeards living in our momma's fuckin' basement, gobbling down cheetos, and whining on the fuckin' internet.

See, most of us don't want to show *everything* about ourselves. It would be too much personally identifiable information, and if (like me) you have serious corporate $$$ coming in, you're not going to intentionally doxx yourselves.

This makes us appear very one-dimensional.

Didact has a couple of recent posts that address this very thing:

To Hell and Back

This one is about Terrence Popp, his life and all. If all you watch is Redonkulas you probably get a very limited view of Popp and Blake - and that's probably as a coupla clowns slaggin' off women. You watch the Live from the Lair series though, you get a helluva lot more.

Watch Through Fingers

This one is about your stereotypical maggot man who hasn't done squat beyond making money. Being a sad'n'lonely fuck he goes and gets himself a Russian bride, who proceeds to rip his guts out through his asshole. As Didact states at the end: "But, no matter what, never stop improving yourself as a man. The price for slacking off or, worse, never starting in the first place, is severe."

Now, when we say things like enjoy yourself - Enjoy the Decline - we don't mean that you should go snort a mile of coke, drink a tanker of alcohol, be a Banzai Runner, and generally fuck up your body and life. If that's what you seriously want to do, more power to you. Live fast, die young, leave a beautiful corpse. Or find yourself sittin' in a cell, gettin' your ass eye'd up by Bubba.

Personally, I like to enjoy the long term. That way I can experience a little bit, very often, for a long time.

This post is a sample of how I'm not wholly one-dimensional (some of it I've already mentioned in past posts) and how you can choose not to be as well. (No, you shouldn't do anything that I do. Do your own shit. Just enjoy yourself. This is how I enjoy myself.)

For starters, understand: I'm not a minimalist (though I like being minimal in many ways). At the end of my divorce I was left with a 4-bedroom house that I rattle around in, and part of a business. The business is now shut down (bitch ain't gettin' nothin' of my ongoin' biz-sweat) and I work as a wage-slave. Honestly, it's a helluva lot easier on my mind too - don't have to do 10 rounds with the fuckin' IRD every year (IRS for you Americans). I can also take holidays.

I've let it be known that I like taking day-trips around New Zealand, travel, some tramping and some hill-climbing (Mt Egmont is one helluva hill to climb). I take photographs of the stuff that I do. Fairly soon I'm going to get a couple of big photographs printed for the walls (I think 0.5 x 1 meters, or 2 x 3 yards for you Americans).

In my home I have an office-slash-computer room. Filing cabinets full of paper junk that I have to keep for 7-8 years in case the IRD wants to ream my ass retroactively. There's a waterproof/fireproof case for documents that I absolutely must not lose (passport, birth certificate, insurance, backups, will, etc).

And there's a PC on a height-adjustable corner desk with a couple of monitors, NAS, networking, everything properly cable-managed and the like. The only thing that hits the floor is the UPS and the internet connection. The desk even has an RGB LED light-strip in aluminium channeling (aluminum to you Americans) - for when I really feel like being geek-silly. (Enjoy yourself.)

I use it for photography stuff. I still do some programming.

Down in my basement, I'm slowly putting together a workshop. This was something that I always wanted to do, only never had the money or time for. (Women. Massive money- and time-sink. I have more spare cash now with my single reduced income, than when that crazy hoe was working. Ditto time. I've also done more overseas holidays.)

I do gym, trying to get stronger and fitter. In the past I've done semi-professional dance. There's a park nearby where I run wind-sprints. I wander down the beach. In the past I've done bowhunting. I've thought of getting a license and getting guns - at this point though, my time is fairly chokka. I'd also have to figure somewhere to put in a gun-safe: not insurmountable, just a pain in the ass at the moment.

Strangely, like Popp, I have a "lair". The whole house! There's a sword above the fireplace in the living room. I don't bother watching TV any more, and movies very rarely (generally classic stuff like Monty Python). There's a computer in there, bridged via wifi to my internet - it's for watching youtube videos, mostly documentaries and how-to stuff.

One of the rooms is a semi-library. In it, in addition to books, there is furniture (I restore antique furniture occasionally as a semi-hobby) and antique knick-knacks - and antique weapons. Including some Japanese samurai stuff (I'm talking real deal handmade samurai sword stuff, 250+ years old - there's nothing quite like feeling an old rayskin grip in your hand).

There's other stuff. Coins. Spears. Cavalry swords, including a Russian one. Antique silver. Even a couple pieces of ivory, which makes your typical leftist motherfucker blow their stack right out their ass (you'd think that I'd slaughtered the elephant myself HAH).

All of this stuff (especially the real deal samurai weaponry) costs several fuck-tons to buy in New Zealand, us being at the ass-end of the world. All of this was bought after my divorce. See remarks above regarding spare cash and etc. (Fuck bitchez. Get money. Just don't give the bitchez your money. Ideally, don't even let the bitchez know you *have* money.)

That's not everything that I do. I'm damn sure that Popp doesn't show everything that *he* does in his Live from the Lair series.

So as you can see, there is nothing one dimensional about anybody out here in the Manosphere. We all have different stuff going on. We don't have to tell everyone everything - or anything - and bloody-well shouldn't, either. None'a'ya fuckin' beeswax.

So if some self-righteous cunt or prick wants to throw monkey-poo at us, on the internet or in real life, it just goes to show how much of a narrow-minded fuckin' loser they are.

As in, too fuckin' stupid to live type of narrow-minded retarded fuckin' loser.

Which, come to think of it, is every damn moronic leftist on the fuckin' planet.

So, in the end: ignore the fucktards. Just enjoy yourself.

Hell, if you are heavily into computer-geekery, go do something that is heavily computer-geekly. Design and build extreme PCs for the high-end crowd. I'm talkin' overclocked AMD Ryzen Threadripper territory, those cases with the glass walls and all the glowing LED's inside, twin-loop hardline water-cooling including multiple graphics cards, quad 4k screens, glowing fans, and other custom mod stuff. Do custom EL panel logo's on the sides. Sign the things with your name.

Do it with anything and everything. Custom surfboards. Custom guns. Custom bikes. Custom cars. Custom fuckin' whatever.

Go completely fuckin' hardcore.

If you should actually happen to be that stereotypical sad neckbeard in the fuckin' basement, chomping down cheetos while whining on the fuckin' internet.

Pick yourself up. Go outside. Walk (or run).

Enjoy yourself. Go your own way.

Dark Streak

For women, it is possession and stealing.

That's what makes a woman wet, what makes her eyes shine.

For men, possession only matters for those afraid of losing what they have. If he's settled he doesn't need to own.

Few men are settled. We're restless, the older we get the more restless.

These are the dark streaks in the souls of men and women.

What Bloody Reward?

Back about a month or so ago, I put up a post about an unattractive mirror that we should possibly look into. In it, I stated that while it appeared that 80% of women are still children - that we men could also be in a similar situation, 80% of us still children also.

On that post, commenter Carl made a damn good point:

If there are no incentives for males to become adults, then why should they? For the greater good? LOL

A very damn good point.

In the old days, children were bought up with the mindset that being an adult was a goal to strive for. Adults were looked up to and listened to because of their sheer experience. The young boys knew that being a husband was a massive sacrifice on a mans part. They still did it because it had one major reward:

RESPECT.

As we know, there is no respect these days. And certainly no reward. Especially given the trash out there.

Now take a step back and look at society.

Society promised us a reward. Though these days, we are seeing through the peeling reflection of the shithouse mirror and realizing that it's just marketing hype for the hucksters to transfer money from your pocket to theirs.

Giant hunk'o'diamond ring. Honeymoon in Hawaii. The McMansion. Owning a second house (in NZ, a bach) in a scenic place that you visit 2-4 weeks and a couple of weekends a year. Owning a boat or set of jetski's for the family to use.

All of these transfer money from your pocket to somebody else's.

So for most men, the marriage-market is a lie. Advertising. Something to lure you into doing things that are not in your ultimate self-interest.

This leaves us men who have woken up understandably bitter. Moreso if we've been caught up and slaughtered in a divorce/frivorce.

Now take another step back and look at things.

Why are we bitter?

It is because the rest of the world, they, taught us all our lives, that X would bring Y as a reward. Brainwashed us. Fed us a plateful of shit and lies.

When the plateful of shit and lies made us sick, when reality reared up and bit our asses off, we got pissed off and bitter about it.

Understandable.

So it takes us a while to get over the anger and bitterness. Of course. Anyone who says that they can help us fix our problems in quick-short order, with a snap of the fingers, is another huckster selling snake-oil. (Here's my snake-oil sure-fire cancer-cure: grapes. Lots of grapes. If you actually do die from cancer within the year, contact me and I'll send you your money back. Guaranteed. Now here's my bill for $10k, thankyouverymuchNEXT!)

Eventually though, we finally accept that Z is what reality is, not the X/Y that we were brainwashed to believe.

Which leaves us at a loose end. As Carl said above, there's no incentives to become adults. So why should we?

Why should we improve ourselves? Why should we strive? Why should we do something more than just sit in the basement playing computer games? Why?

Go ahead. Play computer games in the basement. That's what you want? Go for it.

Because here's the rub. There's always the crisis of motive to think about. If you improve yourself, if you improve your body, if you improve your income, if you improve your life: is it for you, or is it because it's gonna attract women?

If you've grown up - if you've become an adult - why have you done it?

For the ones who've already screwed you over? Do you really wanna do that? Improve yourself...because you're still actually chasing that pussy...still chasing that lying reward that you were brainwashed with all your life?

Fuckin' hard and deep and painful question, that one. Everyone has to answer it for themselves.

As Carl said: For the greater good? When, in reality, the "greater good" can pretty-much be translated to "for teh wimminz benefit"?

...yeah, fuck that, ay.

So we do what we want. Fuck heaps of chicks as the PUA do? Go for it. Play games in the basement? Go for it. Go walking, tramping, fishing, camping out, taking photographs? Go for it. Whatever you want.

It doesn't matter. We don't want society's reward. We've woken up to the realization that it's a plateful of shit and lies.

Now take a final step back and look at ourselves.

Okay, fuck society. There's no reward there.

Except...

...in a roundabout way...

...there is.

If nothing else, it gives us the time and personal space to enjoy ourselves. We don't have to strive at life, as we would have if we had swallowed the whole marriage-and-children lie and gotten on the treadmill of the ratrace for someone else's benefit.

We're not living hand-to-mouth in the old dangerous days of famine, pestilence, and plague. As single men we have plentiful food and the money and time and ability to go and do stuff that interests us. All without the modern entitled nagging bitch in tow, wasting our lives and destroying our sanity with her drivel.

The thing about society is that so long as we do a certain amount of something, it keeps things going - for us. For our benefit. Yup, be selfish about it. For our personal, selfish, greedy, grasping benefit.

So now to look at it laterally, everything askew, and ask:

WHO THE FUCK SAYS THAT SOCIETY'S REWARD IS THE ONLY ONE IN TOWN?

That might be the only socially-accepted (aka wimminz-approved) reward. But who says that is the only possible reward in the world?

Teh wimminz? They're wanting the free bennies.

The marketers pandering to teh wimminz? They're wanting to line their pockets at the expense of yours - and in the process, give teh wimminz their free bennies.

The government pandering to teh wimminz? Get a grip. Biggest bunch of lying, thieving, conniving motherfuckers in creation bar none.

This is where the real message of MGTOW is.

Fuck heaps of chicks, play games in the basement, walking, tramping, fishing, camping out, taking photographs, whatever.

Improve yourself, if you want, however you want, for your own personal satisfaction.

For YOUR reward. For what YOU want. Define your own fuckin' success, reward, happiness, goal, end-game - and go for it.

Balls to the fuckin' wall.

Your fuckin' enjoyment.

Your fuckin' path.

That you fuckin' walk.

Ignoring everybody fuckin' else.

Don't give a shit about the fuckin' plantation any more.

So hang up your hat, put away the suit, go fishing and watch the stars in peace. Go and follow your own path to freedom and happiness.

We don't have to choose their view of what a grown-up adult aka slave is. We can choose our own way of growing up.

And hell, still keep a bit of that big ol' kid going. You know, the kid that lives in reality rather than being crushed and dead inside. Like the rest of the poor bastards of slaves still out there.

The poor bastards of slaves that secretly envy you.

In my view - in my opinion - going MGTOW is actually growing up, realizing that there's more out there than the bullshit script, deciding for ourselves what we want, and going hell-for-leather after that, rather than chasing what they - anyone else - wants us to chase.

To hell with teh wimminz and what they want. Ditto for the marketers. Ditto for the government.

For ourselves. For our personal, selfish, greedy, grasping selves.

They think otherwise?

Like in my The Final Answer: What Is MGTOW post - who the fuck do they think they are? They can go fuck themselves.

Talked (written?) myself out for the moment. I think that it's time for a small glass of Grand Marnier.

Gonna step out again for a while.

Good luck to you all.

Interchangeable Will Eat Your Lunch

Let us go into fantasy-land for a bit here.

Let's say that you're employed by an awesome business. They actually do have an ethic where their employees are not interchangeable, they are valued, they are trained properly, the highest quality of service or workmanship is job one, et-fucking-cetera.

You're doomed.

You see, there's always some fucktard out there who is willing to do it for less. They're that desperate for the work, for the money, that they'll cut corners and do a cheap job.

Your employer can't match that undercutting.

The customer loves it. He'll happily take a poor quality job, so long as he saves a boatload at the beginning. Because he doesn't click to the following:

The bitterness of poor quality lingers

Long after the sweetness of low cost is forgotten

It's not that the customer's stupid (though he's definitely stupid). It's not that he's blind to what he's doing (though he's definitely blind).

It's that the effects of poor quality come to light long afterwards. It gets you through for a while - and then it bites your ass. The time between is just long enough that the general dumbass out there can't connect the dots. Especially the beancounters.

Meantime, the business which once employed you has long gone.

I've seen some strange things in life. Stuff that's made me think: "Don't you have a fucking brain?" To the point where I must believe that management and employees have a weird relationship. Like the old military toast: "Here's to inferior superiors and inferior inferiors. The stuff armies are made of."

Stuff like a beancounter actively saying that there's no profit to be made in X, then breathlessly states that "we should get into as much X as possible". Hello? The person the beancounter was rabbiting on with at the time made the commonsense observation: "If there's no money in it, why are we doing it?" The beancounter couldn't think of anything to say to that...

Stuff like a commercial manager so desperate to get his yearly bonus, that he made an absolute sweetheart deal with a customer. One so sweetheart that there was no money in it. He got his yearly bonus, the customer realized what a sweetheart deal it was and went to do 3-4x as much as was expected, and the business had to hire extra staff to cope with the load...forget breaking even, net loss to the business...

Then you get the sensible people, the rare ones who proactively think about this shit.

A small example: I've been doing a woodworking project, one which I want to bolt together (as well as nail) for extra strength. So some 24x 10mm galvanized cup-head bolts, 170mm long, are in order (actually 160mm but they're popular, they didn't have enough, so I was forced to go for the 170mm - just-in-time supply in action).

While working this out I realized: I also have to drill 24x 11mm holes through 150mm (6 inches) of solid tanalized wood. The problem is that most drill-bits aren't that long. I sure as shit didn't have any. So I head in to the local building shop looking for some bits, and the only ones I can find are auger bits that look like this:

Which is all well and good. There's the cheapass bits, and the expensive bits. Being a thinker, I go for the $29 one because:

1. The $12 ones only come in 10mm or 12mm size, too small or big
2. The $29 ones will last me for years while the cheap ones will crap out earlier

Now, most fucktards will go for the cheap ones. Because most people are cheap bastards and only thinking of the immediate job, not 10+ years down the line. Plus they'll ram it into an electric drill and try to use it at high speed - which will likely fuck the job up, maybe even break the bit and cause themselves an injury.

(Power tools are awesome. You can fuck the job up in half the time.)

Being a half-smart fucktard I decided to use the correct piece of equipment for the job:

Yes, it takes time. No, it doesn't take a lot of effort. And yes, I still made a few crooked holes. Inexperience. Never mind. My woodworking project should last the next 10+ years, easily.

Poor quality and low cost, versus high quality and high cost. (Make sure it's real high quality, not lip-service crap.)

Unfortunately, you can have middling-high quality in what you do. The poorest quality job, done by a bunch of clueless interchangeable knobs, will beat you out of the work just about every time. (I say "just about" because there are a few people who have a clue and recognize that high quality is better in the long run.)

In New Zealand terms, it's the difference between:

1. A house put up in the 1960's by an experienced tradesman with quality materials, and
2. A house put up in the 1980's by a jackleg builder who was frantically slapping everything together in the middle of a housing boom - most of which housing starts falling to pieces in the 2000's due to leaks causing the guts of the house to rot and fall apart

By which point the bloody jackleg builder has long ago closed his business down, only to open up another one under a new trading name. Want to bet that the quality of building done is any better than the shit that's already falling apart?

I wish I could shake the hand of the tradesman who put my house together. It's 50 years on, a little maintenance (new longline iron roof), a little bit of upgrading (air conditioning), and still going strong. Built like a brick shithouse, in a time when the idea was that it would stay in the family for generations.

So I live in a 50-year-old house with brick exterior and original matai wood floors that have been sanded and polished (that's a native New Zealand wood, fucking beautiful). While my parents live in a semi-modern 1985 house with fibrolite exterior and wool carpet with disintegrating rubber underlay, laid over fucking particle board - which is so soft and rots so easily that you could just about piss a hole through it.

Quality. Shines. Through.

Except when you're blind, dumb, and stupid.

Style Over Substance

Unca Bob has had quite a few excellent articles recently that critique much of the thinking in the manosphere. Here the articles are with a quick "what my take is" commentary - read through the comments, they are also excellent!

About the five classes of men: upper, middle, working, bottom, and those who step outside the class system to do their own thing. Reading between the lines, how the manosphere advocates taking on the characteristics of the bottom-class - deliberately crippling themselves. So that they can "score" with (prey upon) promiscuous and drunk women. Yet working within the class-system and sneering at those who step outside it.

About the scholarly, warrior, merchant, criminal, and other classes. He writes of the left- and right-wing (r/K respectively) scholars, how the left-wing ones destroy and the right-wing ones build up. With the manosphere's narrow focus (obsession) on "sex, sex, sex" - how that makes us clueless to other things that exist in this world. Of course, when all you're doing is looking for the next fast-fuck it's no surprise when everything else slides - including standards, society, and the rest around us.

How much of what we attempt to portray is superficial crap. Which involves a lot of the self-help "fake it until you make it" crapola. Certainly it can be useful (NLP has it's uses in some situations) yet it's just a surface veneer. Much of it is posturing - style above substance - yet it is substance, mastering something, that brings the real rewards of self-satisfaction and personal accomplishment. Chasing after pleasure is a fleeting thing, very shallow in comparison to the self-assurance and inner well-being that is developed through mastery.

How we imitate the wrong people. Which is no surprise - many of us don't have fathers of worth (or at all) to look up to and imitate. Everyone imitates somebody that they admire, takes on a role-model: it might be a Robert Kiyosaki or Donald Trump, it might be a parent or uncle, it might be some teacher - or a posturing closeted academic selling "you too can fuck hawt chicks" book. Too many people (especially modern children) imitate the wrong people.

About philosphy and mediation - very much worth reading. Then thinking about, and reading again. In my opinion it will pay dividends. We lack much awareness, no huge surprise in this modern society which focuses entirely on sensation and things. In my view this is where much of religion has failed us: instead of passing on the wisdom of ages, helping the inner self, they started focusing on people in order make themselves seem more relevant. Newsflash: it was a very bad mistake catering to the ADD-addled modern person (both men and women).

Overall, my takes:

* posturing is rife, because it's easier to posture and make yourself an ersatz authority than make the effort required to become the real deal

* we are adolescent, because like a horny teenager we focus upon one thing: sex (once that's dealt with we can then focus upon something more worthwhile)

Regarding posturing: I remember something that (I think Vox Day) wrote about long ago. He and a girl were somewhere near a pool (at a resort?) and there was a posturing teenage "alpha" in front of an audience of girls. The girl with Vox remarked disparagingly about it, yet - tellingly - could not seem to drag her eyes away from the teenager.

Regarding adolescence: we go back to the old definition of women from the No-Ma'am website: Woman: The Most Responsible Teenager In The House. (A slightly updated version is on The Masculine Principle website.) So let's take a step back and look at the obsession with sex that is rife in the manosphere - and you have to admit it: it's like we're stuck with our testosterone in overdrive, wanting to stick our dicks in as many hawt chix as possible.

No wonder those who are attempting to actually grow up - to become more well-rounded human beings - and who say "no thanks" to the rotten meat "women" that a lot of the manosphere says we should be lunching on and glad of it - attract a lot of flak from other parts of the manosphere. They're still juvenile, still adolescent, still acting like the male version of the most responsible teenager in the house.

Which makes me wonder: when Mystery nicknamed Neill Strauss "Style", was it a conscious thing? Because the PUA espouse and exemplify the "style over substance" mindset of this modern, fashion-conscious, degenerative society. Much like many women can only grasp the style - because substance is both invisible and not sexy when it comes to the attention.

None Of Their Business

I've been vaguely thinking about the bullshit shaming tactics going on in certain segments of the Manosphere. (I get the feeling that these tactics will basically split up and destroy the Manosphere - because they're divisive by nature with those who take the time to truly think about things - however, that's an entirely different post.)

We've already basically worked out that in many cases, it's because they (the shamers) are attempting to add to their demographic. People who listen to them, people who buy their stuff, loyal fanboi's, narcissistic ego enhancement - crap like that.

All rife everywhere in life and the world, of course.

They're trying to build a gang (or herd) of their own. Thus they troll/shame others - both newcomers and long-established - within the Manosphere. They use the standard categories of female-style shaming tactics to try and shame these others into thinking and acting the way that they desire.

Like that's gonna do much with regards to the truly independent thinkers.

So here is something that might help you in dealing with these fuckwits. Ask them this simple question (directly, or in your mind): What the hell business of yours is it, what I do?

Reality is: It's none of their fuckin' business.

You are totally free to do or not do whatever you fuckin' desire in life.

Never mind what someone else thinks. Preferably without some pig with an agenda attempting to shame you for it. So long as you're prepared to deal with the consequences like an adult.

(For example, dealing drugs is generally frowned upon by society and civilization - you might get killed by the competition - you'll probably get chucked in jail if you're caught - but that's your fuckin' lookout. That's your business. That's your responsibility. Own the consequences of whatever you do.)

Of course, there are a billion-plus people in this world who would rather that you follow the script that they follow. They're too brainwashed to know better. (Plus a lot of them feel like they're bad people if you're doing better'n them - so they'll try to cut you down - tall poppy syndrome lives everywhere!)

There's another billion-plus people in this world who want you to follow the script of their devising. One that fills their pockets. (I'm not just talking women wanting you to do stuff for their benefit - I'm also talking the people who design-and-make the river of shit "stuff" which they try to brainwash you into believing that you "can't live without".)

Both are bullshit.

You probably need to be one of the few people who thinks for themselves - decides for themselves - chooses their lives for themselves - and hey, if you want to buy into some parts of other people's scripts, that's your business.

If making a good chunk of money to enjoy a good life is you, go for it.

If starving the government beast and sucking off the public teat is you, go for it.

If going completely ghost and avoiding society is you, go for it.

If you want to be reasonably independent and not getting screwed over or screwed around by others, you need to do your own thinking and make your own choices. Then stick with them. You don't have to tell anyone else - it's not their business - it's yours alone.

Always remember: these fucker's have an agenda. One that's for their benefit, most likely not for yours - and most likely at your expense.