You Know Who Hates Gamma Rabbits More Than The Manosphere? Feminists.

Back in my Blue Pill days, I went through my Gamma phase.  I'm not proud of it.  It only lasted a couple of years before I snapped out of it.  But it happened.  I can admit that now.  In fact, snapping the Gamma was one of the first steps on the road to Breaking Beta.

If you're not down with it yet, go study Vox Day's brilliant Socio-Sexual Hierarchy, listing social descriptions of all manner of men on the hunt for women.  Gammas are the "male feminists", the manboobz, the "I can be manly while I hold my wife's purse at a party while she talks to another guy" dude.  Gammas, in their evolved form, become self-loathing White Knights like Hugo Schwyzer, professional Mangina.  Essentially, Gammas have come to believe that all things male are inherently bad, and that all things female are inherently good -- sacred, even.

Typical presentations of the Gamma include low self-esteem buttressed with a "if I kiss enough female ass I'll be accepted!" attitude that can be pathological in its intensity.  Gammas are the true "Beta Orbiters".  When they do mate, it's usually with the female equivalent or lower -- except in those hilarious cases where a low-number Gamma inexplicably marries a higher-level woman.  Those things tend to be short and painful.

But this guy over at Salon is pitching a particular bitch-fit over the lustful thoughts he has about strange women, and how he feels genuinely offended on behalf of his twin daughters and his Tiger Mom, MD wife.  As he pathetically confesses the righteous indignation he feels at his own penis' mindless objectification of women (let's ignore the fact, for the moment, that a dude usually only gets in such a state when his sex life is in "IV drip mode") his tone is clearly pleading for affirmation and acceptance.

It's the Gamma Rabbit Trap: capitulate to the idea that women are superior to men, in all important ways, under the theory that such sniveling capitulation will gain you acceptance, love, and pussy.

Brother Rabbit, it don't work that way.

The Gamma Rabbits are like Black Republicans: you can't figure out how anyone would labor and advocate for a position so blatantly -- proudly! -- against their best interests.  You see, this obvious ploy of appeasement is designed to make him feel better about his "lustful, sexually objectifying" thoughts, because feminism has told him since birth that such thoughts are evil. Andy has voluntarily confessed and repented of being part of "rape culture", and fervently desires a non-sexist, non-threatening world.  A Blue Pill world, where words like "hypergamy" and "infidelity" never exist.  Where "regular sex" is timed by the moon, not by the clock.

 So . . . this guy should be crawling with feminist support and admiration, right?  Because that's clearly what he expected: affirmation for his progressive feminist views and the acceptance of him as a man because of his recognition of the inherent evils of owning a penis.

Only . . . not so much.  Poor bastard.

Not just one, but two scathing reviews of his Gamma-laden posts were made by feminists.  The thing is, they didn't take issue with his political perspective.  They took issue with . . . him.

In New York Magazine, in an article entitled, "I'm a Woman, I read Slate, I Write Violent Thoughts About A Man Who Writes About Being Horny.  How Can I Stop That?" (when, clearly, she has no desire to stop), Maureen O'Conner conflates her hatred of male sexuality and fatherhood in a screed that - if the genders were reversed - would land her in anger management counseling or fired and escorted from the building by security.  In part Ms. O'Conner's violent misandry over male feminist Andy Hinds' admission that yes, he too has a penis (although he's very ashamed to admit it) goes something like this:

". . . deep in the vaginal recesses of my female imagination, I fantasize about tearing Slate writer Andy Hinds limb from limb. "

"If I had more respect for Andy Hinds, I might indulge my fantasy about punching him in the gut so hard that he doubles over in pain for a moment. "

"Unfortunately, like Andy Hinds, I too am but a prisoner to my instincts, no matter how hypocritical or rude. The heart wants what the heart wants, and my heart wants violence. "

"Sure, I may want to throw Andy Hinds and [professional Mangina] Hugo Schwyzer into a tank full of hungry sharks, but  . . ."

This, Andy, from your feminist "allies".

Oh, but it gets worse.

From Jezebel, the Industry Leaders In Organized Misandry, in a post entitled: "Daddyblogger Controls His Boner With 'Imaginary Burqas'" by Katie Baker, which goes beyond the violent imagery above and just resorts to humiliating, shaming and effectively destroying this man for sharing his confusion about his sexuality in the feminist-approved way:

But it's not sexist to think about boning strangers, and it's horrifying, really, to resort to mentally censoring women so you don't have to consider the possibility that you're not actually as much of an "enlightened" feminist as you think but a dude with a latent Madonna-whore complex (Hinds could ask his wife how she feels about all this, at least?)

This is actually worse that O'Conner's piece, because not only does she emasculate him for self-emasculating, she further emasculates him because he doesn't have his wife's permission to think these thoughts.  And then she goes on to state that she agrees with all the violent misandrist crap in O'Conner's post.

Way to go, girls.  Another win for our side.

See, Gentlemen, when the poor Gamma Male Feminist Rabbits do try to talk about how proud and dedicated they are to non-sexist culture and gender equity, the moment they poke their head up out of their hole the feminist lawnmower rolls over it.  Andy is an almost complete Scalzi, but he's already getting hammered for his "enlightened" attitude by the very feminists he's trying to identify with.

In his own blog, he frets over the comments from the "Men's Rights Movement" and being misunderstood, not quite understanding that it wouldn't matter how clear and concise he had been, any time a "male feminist" says something out loud, he will and is always castigated roundly by a plurality of female feminists.

It's like a law of nature.  Just see how much respect professional Mangina Hugo Schwyzer has in their circles.

Andy, what you have to realize (and probably wont) is that regardless of the kicking-around you feel in the Manosphere among "Men's Rights Movement" and "Right Wing" trolls, the fact is that we're a lot more forgiving than the feminists are.  We're always willing to help a brother out, if he's willing to admit that the bullshit disguised as political theory known as "feminism" has less to do with equality as it does with female entitlement.  The ladies at Slate and NYMag feel utterly entitled to bash you and your life, your lifestyle, even your wife and kids with impunity, because they know you won't defend yourself.  Even that "What I meant to say" pieces will be ridiculed . . .  if it's even noticed.

Here's the thing, Andy: you will never be accepted as a "feminist" by feminism, because you are Male, and therefore part of the "Patriarchy" and oppressive "Rape Culture" that you, yourself, have been trained to loathe.  Fear, guilt, and early indoctrination convinced you that male sexuality was "bad", and feminism has compounded that feeling by publicly ridiculing your sexuality even as you struggle with it.  On the other side, your unwillingness to admit and embrace the fact that a) you have a penis b) there's no inherent shame in that fact and c) any group who espouses equality and then indulges in such nasty bits of misandry is so intellectually dishonest at its core that your "alliance" with them resembles more a prostitutes alliance with a pimp, not the honest and equal intellectual partnership.

Read these posts again, Andy.  Feel how much they scorn and despise you?  You are contemptible to them . . . because you propose to agree with them.  If they were truly dedicated to a non-sexist world they would have applauded your admission, not condemned it.  But they treated you like a thuggish rapist for admitting that you had illicit thoughts.

Here's the Red Pill truth, Andy: illicit thoughts about random women are part of your evolutionary heritage, and attempting to eschew that so you can make a couple of bitter feminist bloggers happy (when they are predestined not to be happy) with you is just stupid.  You really area Beta Dad, and no, I don't mean that in a "good" way.  In fact, you're less Beta and more Gamma.  A White Knight.  Just the kind of dude feminists love to throw under a bus until you howl . . . which they then point to as proof that they were right all along.

Look, I'm sure you have a spiffy marriage and your kids are adorable.  But Andy, if you don't clue into some stuff real quick, I prophesy a divorce or estrangement within a decade, and then you'll be here, bitter, and wishing you had listened to us.

First, ditch the fear of women.  As much as you love your wife and daughters, that does not extend to the millions of women that would be happy to falsely accuse you of rape, take advantage of your gender in the workplace, or yawn with boredom when they hear of your death in an industrial accident on the news.  The idea that feminists have any male's rights or issues in mind is demonstrably false.  Your continued adherence to this self-destructive, genocidal ideal is going to bite you in the ass even bigger than it has, mark my words. (Go ahead.  Mark them.  I'll wait.)

The Red Pill Truth, Andy, is that your wife earns more than you do, which means (if the stats are correct) that despite everything else, you have at least a 40% chance of divorce in the next decade if it continues.  The truth is that feminists will never accept you, they will always reject you no matter how "nice" you are, and in fact the nicer you are, the more they will despise you.  Gamma Rabbits don't fit into their program unless they need votes or someone to take out the garbage.

It kinda sucks you have daughters, because you're all awash in "girl power" feminism.  If you had sons, then you'd have a much different perspective.  One in which you would see your son's achievements and performance retarded and belittled because of his gender.  One in which your son would not matter even in the abstract to most feminists, because he's "part of the problem".

If you're smart, you'll start reading the Manosphere, Andy.  Not the PUA stuff, but the Married Man Sex Life Blog/books/forum by Athol Kay.  No More Mister Nice Guy.  And my own humble blog.  You'll discover that being Beta -- or worse, Gamma -- gets you respect from neither gender.  The only ones who love Gammas are other Gammas . . . until you stop acting like a Gamma.  Then they turn on you and devour you.

Seriously, dude.  You're a good dad, that's obvious.  You want to be a good husband.  Feminism will help you with neither of those things.  Don't believe me?  Count the number of feminists you know who have been in long (15+ years) happy marriages to the same man.  Go ahead.  I'll wait.

Didn't take long, did it?

That's the dirty little secret feminism doesn't want you to know.  Feminism is not a reproductive strategy designed with a long-term relationship, much less marriage, in mind.  In fact, it celebrates divorce and the estrangement of children from their fathers as a matter of course.  You might disparage the "MRAs" as a bunch of bitter boobs, but the chances of you being there someday, if you keep doing what you're doing, are better than hitting the Pick 6. Ever.

So Andy, I invite you to seriously reconsider your position.  In fact, just to be a good guy about it, I'm going to send you a review ecopy of the Manosphere book as an introduction.

But for the love of Zeus and Hercules, stop acting like you raped someone because you popped a boner over some babe.  It's embarrassing, harmful to your fellow men, and even your wife -- as sympathetic and empathetic as she's likely being about it right now -- isn't going to find you any more attractive because of this.  Quite the contrary.

Welcome to the Manosphere, Andy.  Learn how to Break your Beta. We can help you be a better man.  Hell, it might just save you.

Pinterest: What It Really Means

Pinterest, if you are unaware - and let's hope to Zeus Pater you are - Pinterest is a website devoted to . . . well, putting up pretty pictures of stuff you want.  It's a point-and-click coveting scheme, a means of displaying conspicuous consumption of things you wish you had, to demonstrate your good taste.  Needless to say, the site is packed to the gunwales with women who want to impress other women with stuff they don't actually have.

In other words, it's essentially a scrapbooking site . . . for people too lazy to actually take the trouble to scrapbook.  You just point, click, and BAM!  Instant taste and charm.

Now, it's easy to see why this site has a great appeal to women - it's a function of the Female Social Matrix, in which women are positioned in part by the admiration they get from other women.  In the Olden Days, a few years ago, ladies were forced to do this by actually going out and buying things and arranging things and painting things -- remember Trading Spaces?

No more.  Now you just point . . . and click.  Instant taste.  Instant admiration.  Instant gratification.   Of course there is a social marketing component -- you have to share your taste in order to receive gratification.   Your friends, colleagues, neighbors, and strangers on the internet can inspect and approve and compliment you on the stuff you would have bought, if you could have, or wanted to, or had the energy or . . . you know, do anything but sit on Pinterest and mindlessly point and click their way into demonstrating an independent sense of style.  But women actually brag about the "pins" they've acquired and shared.  Think of it as the feminine equivalent of fishing . . . on the Wii.

While I enjoy a good estrogen-fest as much as the next dude who watches porn all day, there comes a point where the chiffon prom dresses and the stylish patio sets with the perfectly-matched picnicware and the luxurious bedroom suite that cost more than your present home just gets to you.  I know it got to me.

So I went down to the dungeon of Stately Ironwood Manor and put the Flying Monkeys on it.  And being bored, and tired of attempting to recreate the complete works of Shakespeare banging on the one sorry typewriter I have, because, c'mon, Amazon?  So they came up with a few small little tokens ("pins") related to the Red Pill and the Manosphere.  Because, y'know, Pinterest should really be introduced to the Manosphere.  I'm sure we'll get along famously.  

Trade 'em, collect 'em, make your own, share them all over the place and watch some folks squirm.  Because a subversive Puerarchy is an effective Puerarchy.

So . . . if you have a Pinterest account, or just want to piss off a bunch of prissy girls who think a pink and teal granite countertop is worth damp panties, then start "pinning" these things and make some of your own.

Really.  The Monkeys assure me it is quite therapeutic. Enjoy.

Male Shaming Our Military

One of the most frustrating and infuriating things about the on-going Gender War is the wholesale male-shaming that occurs when a feminist gets a bee in her bra about something -- anything -- and then tells a man (or, usually, all men) to grow up.  Case in point: this morning's CNN Opinion piece by Pepper Schwartz entitled, condescendingly enough, Can Men Evolve? in the teaser and Soldiers and Sex: Can Men Grow Up? in the article.

The very title is an attempt at wholesale male-shaming, and while the subject matter is very, very serious -- sexual harassment and rape in the military -- the perspective and attitudes Dr. Schwarz espouses show both a stunning naivete about the function and nature of the military and an appalling and misandrist opinion about men and masculinity in general.

Let's start with the issue of shaming: Any time a woman tells a man to "grow up", unless the woman in question gave birth to the man in question this directive is the moral and semantic equivalent of saying "stop being such a bitch" to a woman.  It is openly disrespectful, makes dramatic and erroneous assumptions about the nature of men and masculinity, and more often than not demonstrates the ignorance and evident unsophistication of the woman in question.

Men, that is, mature men who have assumed adult responsibilities (like, say, carrying an M-16 and killing people on behalf of the US Government for a living) should be accorded a level of respect commiserate with that responsibility.  When a woman says "grow up", she is deliberately trying to shame and disrespect a man by assuming a superior moral posture . . . when upon close inspection, that posture is rarely deserved. 

 "Grow Up" implies that the woman in question has a right to judge the actions and behaviors of men -- and in this case, men in a male-originated, male-dominated, and male-oriented profession.  The idea that Dr. Schwarz, for all of her journalistic street cred, is somehow by nature of her gender entitled to judge male maturity without considering the context of the complaint paints the misandrist, sanctimonious condemnations of my daughter's 11-year old friends, not a thoughtful adult perspective.

I'm not denying that the sexual harassment and rape of our women warriors is a tragic and unacceptable situation; it was also quite predictable.  Feminists in particular and women in general see our vast military as just another civil-service job with a really strict dress code, not the organized and institutionalized tool of projecting violence and death anywhere in the world at need that it is and must be.  Minor but important difference.  We take young men who barely know how to eat with a fork and knife and turn them into killing machines . . . so that feminists can have the freedom to condemn them wholesale.

The military is a uniquely male-dominated field for obvious reasons.  Men banded together for mutual defense and to protect their mutual holdings since the Paleolithic, and after agriculture that tribal warrior culture blossomed into the sophisticated and regulated -- and highly efficient -- military system we have inherited today.  Remember 300?  Have you read Anabaxis?  Do you know who Alexander the Great, Sun Tzu and Julius Caesar are?  They are the roots of the modern military culture.  And the needs and necessities of military life - brutal efficiency and absolute discipline - have given similar form to the institution of the military regardless of whether it sprung from the Mediterranean Basin, the Indus Valley, or the Yangzte.  When men organize to kill other men and destroy property, there's a right way to do it.  The ARMY  (or NAVY) way.

Notable exceptions aside, women do not fight in armies or navies, and women do not form armies of women.  There's a reason for that.  Men who are trained to overcome their socially-conditioned hesitation to take a human life, and then be able to do it upon command and live with the psychological aftermath, can only do so through a very strict regime of conditioning their natural aggression into a highly-controlled tool.  That process is military training, in which not just women, but all human beings are by necessity objectified.  If a terrorist in Fallujah can be a woman, then assuming special exceptions to that rule in some misguided application of chivalry is a ticket to a dead soldier . . . and that's not the ARMY way.

Objectification is a requirement for the military, a psychological requirement.  Not just of the Enemy, but of your subordinates, your superiors, and your peers.  If you attempt to subjectify the military experience more than absolutely necessary, the psychological protections military training instilled in you falter.   You cannot -- cannot -- see female soldiers any differently than male soldiers, despite the obvious disconnect implicit with that statement.  The idea that some "girls are special" course is going to work -- or that we'd be happy with the results if it did -- is ludicrous and naive.

Of course, there have always been problems with that process, because men are individuals and the military works best when individuality has been de-emphasized.  Some individuals are just not psychologically capable of accepting that process, and some are perfectly fine until the extreme stress of military life causes a mental switch to flip.  If the most basic human prohibition -- do not kill other people -- can be so summarily removed by the process, there is a natural danger that some will consider this all the psychological rationalization their subconscious needs to abandon others.  Switch flipped.  In some cases, that switch, unfortunately, leads to sexual assault on fellow soldiers or sailors.

This, too, has been a problem that has been around since the Paleolithic.  And it did not start being a problem when women were allowed into the military.  The tie between sex, aggression, domination and submission is well-known, if not well-understood.  The military, by necessity, controls aggression and uses domination and submission implicitly in its organization and culture.  But you can't ignore the sexual component of the equation, like Dr. Schwarz wants to do, or gloss over it with "That's disrespectful!" . . . just because the soldier or sailor who was the victim of the assault happened to be female this time.

It's easy to look at all the fancy equipment, the drones, the planes, the artillery and tanks and all the other ways we've made mass destruction efficient and impersonal and decide that modern military life doesn't need more character or discipline to carry off than, say, that needed to design and produce a video game.  But that mistakes the nature of the military and its job, and glosses over the ugly reality: all of those fancy toys are still just the spear in the hand of one man who is about to slay another . . . and who himself may be slain in turn at any moment.

That kind of constant existential crisis needs release, or tragedy beyond the planned tragedy of war occurs.  Traditionally, wise military commanders made certain that ample camp followers or prostitutes were available to keep this relief at hand.  But even then, when sex was easy, cheap or free, still the mix of aggression, domination, and submission led to abuses.  In the final analysis, the gender of the victims matters less than the issue of sexual abuse over-all; where were Dr. Schwarz's cries for "men to grow up" when an Army sergeant in Korea abuses young men for years before getting caught?  Only when women's virtue is at stake is Dr.Schwarz bothered.  Only when women's lives are affected does Dr. Schwarz see a problem.  Our young men can get butt-raped by their peers and superiors all day long, and Dr. Schwarz and her equivalents are silent, more preoccupied by issues of diversity and equality and finding the perfect match than righteous rage at such offences.

What Dr. Schwarz is doing here is similar to what almost all feminists (with a few gallant exceptions) and most modern women do when it comes to considering the military: they don't hesitate to take advantage of the aggression of our young men when there are Bad Guys around, but otherwise they treat the men who have sworn to protect her First Amendment rights to disrespect them to the death, if necessary, and classed them all as rapists and discriminatory thugs.  She has, like almost all feminists today, exploited the idea that young men are disposable in our society, and she treats them accordingly.

I make frequent exception here because I know many women soldiers who don't feel a bunch of "girls are special!" classes are the answer to the problem.  Indeed, there are many who feel this approach is precisely the wrong way to fix the problem, and since they have more direct experience with it than Dr. Schwartz, I think I'd trust their judgement more.  Coincidentally, NONE of these brave women warriors (some of whom were rape victims themselves) ever made the childish and irresponsible demand that "Men just grow up!".  Because they understand men and the military a whole lot better than Dr. Schwartz does, apparently.

They know that the basis of this behavior isn't a lack of role models, proper instruction, or sufficient diversity training classes.  The men who assault (and despite Dr. Schwarz's contention female perpetrators of sexual assault are "rare, and not systemic in any institution", I would venture to say that it is actually far less rare and simply far more under-reported, due to a number of factors, based on anecdotal evidence) are not "immature", they are not being "puerile", they are not "boys being boys" . . . the men who commit these crimes are under herculean pressures, inadequately supported, and frequently under-supervised.  While rape and sexual assault are tragic results of this problem, they are mere symptoms.

Dr. Schwarz's snit over sexual assault seems trivial and trite when one looks at the suicide statistics for our active military and returning veterans. In 2012, there were 349 suicides among our active-duty military, and around 22 a day among our veterans -- that's around 8,000 suicides last year.  And the vast, vast majority of those suicides were men.

According to the Pentagon's own stats, that means that there were about two and a half rapes for every suicide in 2012.  I suppose depending how you valued the two issues, one could make the argument that
sexual assault on serving female military personnel VASTLY outweighs the petty little problem of our returning veterans chewing on their guns.  At least, that's the argument Dr. Schwarz seems to be making.

I would remind her that for the majority of the history of our republic, much less the histories of other nations, for centuries our young men were subjected to these outrages and indignities without their original consent to even join the military, subject to conscription due to their gender alone.  As tragic as the stories of military rape survivors are, they chose to join the military of their own free will, a luxury generations of young men before them did not have.  Once again feminism overlooks conscription as incidental to the male-female equation, devaluing the lives and free will of men by dismissing an inequity that outlasted slavery and male-only voting rights.  It's bad enough to volunteer to fight and get raped.  To be conscripted against your will to fight, and then get raped, is a horror piled upon a tragedy.  Not a single American woman can complain of that.

Some of the conclusions she makes are correct.  We cannot go back to an all-male military, despite the number of problems we are going to have.  We can't even go back to an all-straight military.  But you
cannot attempt to fundamentally alter a process of psychological conditioning developed over 10,000 years with a couple "girls are special!" classes.  The process of finding a comfortable balance between the necessary aggression needed to fight and win a war and the socio-sexual reality of the mixing of the genders is going to be long, tedious, and fraught with difficulties.  But just as we have (eventually) managed to establish a base-line of behavior in the workplace, it will happen with the military . . . eventually.

Beyond the foolishness of "girls are special!" classes, the notion that male sexuality needs "instruction" from any quarter is offensive.  Do women need "special instruction" about their sexual values, or would Dr. Schwarz see that as a paternalistic attempt to control the sexual lives of women?  Would they be required to challenge and confront whatever ridiculous notions of sexuality they had when they signed their enlistment, and perhaps be forced to change their beliefs and practices to "fit in" with everyone else's?

Somehow I think if the Pentagon started telling women that they needed to be considering what kind of housewives they needed to be after their term of service was up, some folks might get upset.  Telling a young man that he has to be a "gentleman" (without defining the term) or "evolved" (when there is no logical basis equity feminist should be justly angry about.
for the idea that such a change in belief would indeed be an "evolution", and not a "devolution") is an unfair and unacceptable attempt to re-program his sexuality, something any

Part of the problem, ironically, is the very code that once kept such things from occurring in abundance, the Code of Honor or Chivalry commonly adopted by all men in the West over the last few centuries, was sufficiently trashed in the eyes of most men by feminism as to have little or no power, now.  It was a "tool of the patriarchy", and therefore a fair target of feminists over the years.  Now that they have brought down a deluge of disdain and disrespect for the masculine codes of honor, they complain that they are no longer protected by it . . . but apparently Dr. Schwarz considers a couple of classes and some shaming language is sufficient to replace a millenia-old masculine code of conduct.  Indeed, the military is one of the last refuges of such thinking . . . and Dr. Schwarz and her feminist allies seem determined to eradicate it even there.

Of course feminists can't invoke honor or chivalry - because that would empower men to be better men.  And that would be sexist.  Feminism cannot abide anything that empowers men.  Instead of appealing to our better nature and attempting to raise us with respect and admiration by invoking our honor and chivlary, the way her foremothers did, Dr. Schwarz seeks to castigate, demean, and denigrate the masculine impulse toward a warrior code and favors replacing it with an H.R. lecture.  Just the thing to inspire a man to die for
his country.

The idea that men need to "grow up" -- the same men Dr. Schwarz depends upon to defend her -- is inherently disrespectful toward our gender and our military men in particular.  While she states her goal is to turn men into "safer colleagues and partners" -- that is, more useful to women --  one would think that someone with a doctorate in sociology would recognize the inherent problem with attempting to make our highly-trained trained killers "safer".  Her stated desire to "change the hearts and minds" of men in the military -- ALL men -- is condescending and disrespectful to the memory of what we all owe to that institution.

Finally, the most galling thing about Dr. Schwarz's proposal is that it assumes that changing men is even within her purview.  Does she likewise favor any male proposals to "change women"?  Or is she operating from the basic operating principal -- like so many feminists -- that men are inherently broken because we aren't just like women? 

That men are the problem just because we are men?  She bandies about the idea that our sexuality and aggression are tied into dominance and submission, and perhaps someone with a greater background in psychology wouldn't be so naive, but the fact of the post-feminism world is that feminism broke the bonds of gender expectations . . . of both genders.

You can no longer "expect" us to be "gentlemen" anymore than we can "expect" women to be "warm, friendly, and faithful".  Just as women got busted out of their awful gender role of domestic drudgery, men were liberated from the expectation of going and dying on some beach because of some girl back home.  Or treating everything with a vagina as worthy of protection.  And you can expect that the next time you suddenly want to see a lot of young, strong, disposable males ready to line up and keep harm at bay . . . you can send your daughters to face the threat instead.

With this kind of insulting and demeaning attitude prevalent among feminism and women in general, there's just not a lot of reason our boys should pick up a rifle and die to protect the very people who treat him like a retarded child while he does so.  And if that seems somehow unfair, that men would shirk their responsibility to kill and die on your behalf, Dr. Schwarz . . . Welcome to the Manosphere, Cupcake.

Red Pill Marriage: When "Make Me A Sammich!" Means "I Love You!"

We've all witnessed the unfathomable power of the Divine manifest in the Midwest this week (take your pick as to blame Jehovah, Thor, or Zeus, and there's always the possibility it was a collaborative effort) in the form of freaking massive F4 and F5 tornadoes, and the devastation and death they left in their wake.  Of course it was inevitable that someone in the Manosphere would be affected, and sure enough, my pal LadySadie, over at motivationalhierarchy, had a close brush with the full fury of Nature.

Luckily, it was a near-miss -- unluckily, a "near-miss" in tornado language is the equivalent of weathering an entire hurricane . . . in ten minutes.  That means tons of clean-up, debris removal, and repair.  How much?  Take a look at her site for a lovely pictorial review of the fun.

Now, this wasn't intended to be an attempt to inspire sympathy and assistance for LadySadie -- she's got matters under control.  As a matter of fact, she's aggressively against being a victim, even of Nature.  What really inspired me to write this post was her recognition of some key elements of the importance of gender roles, especially in a time of crisis.

The disaster sparked the usual rural-Midwest community effort of neighbor helping neighbor restore and repair (the Southern version looks very similar, except with more Sweet Tea and biscuits), and LadySadie's beau had a crew of friends and neighbors descend on the damaged farm to help with the monumental task.  This isn't raking leaves -- this is the safe dismantling of twisted metal and splintered wood, using power tools, saws-alls, chainsaws, axes, hammers . . . basically stuff most Vassar grads are unfamiliar with.  It requires teamwork, coordination, skill, competence, and clear hierarchy to get the job done.

That means Men.

Now, LadySadie is no wisp of silk and fluff, she's no fainting flower, and if left to her own devices I have every confidence in her ability to handle her business in a crisis better than the average dude, easily.  Indeed, the desire to actively assist in the work must have been overwhelming.  Moms hate a dirty room, and when the whole farm is dirty, well . . .

In any case, LadySadie is in a solid Red Pill relationship, and she's very aware of such things as the importance of the division of labor in a time of crisis.  So when the Menfolk showed up in trucks with implements of destruction and a determination to remove every scrap of debris in sight, she didn't grab a chainsaw and try to join them . . .

. . . she went into the kitchen with her daughters and made sandwiches.

Now, while the few feminists who happen across this blog recover from your head exploding, Lady Sadie is not a mindless little domestic drone.  As she tells me herself,

I found it fascinating to watch the work take place, and the efficiency of the whole operation was just short of breathtaking.  There wasn't any reason for me to by in the way, and while I can use a chainsaw and a saws-all, I am far more effective at being the care-taker.  Now that the major debris is removed and [the Beau] is back at work, I can go with my girls and rake the splinters, pick up glass and nails and replant the garden where it was damaged. 

She's highly competent, and highly capable.  And she's so intelligent that she recognizes when female interference in a masculine endeavor is counter-productive to the goal.  Sure, she wanted to help.  But she's been around farms, around men, all her life, and she knows how men work.

And men work best when there are no women around.  Further, Men work best when there's no women around . . . until lunchtime.

That sounds trite and misogynistic, but the Red Pill observable fact of the matter is that when men self-organize to do a job of work, they typically assume a highly-efficient hierarchy based on experience and competence, reduce communication to a casual banter designed to advance the work, and default to the "dudes-crudely-bullshitting-while-they-work" mode designed to increase strength-building testosterone and reduce thought-provoking estrogens.  The presence of even one female in such a group can and usually does disrupt this vital element of masculine culture.

Sometimes you can "overlook" a woman, ignoring her presence to the point where you almost forget she's there - if she's quiet.  But even then the feminine presence can be felt by the group, and while they might approach the male-only level of efficiency, even having a woman watch them slows men down.  If a woman is talking to them, no matter how efficient they might appear they have actually slowed down their work.  If a woman is attempting to help them, unless they have worked in that capacity before and she knows her shit about tools and tool safety, and how to work in a male-oriented work party, then the efficiency is broken along with the concentration on work.

There's a reason that the meme of construction workers whistling at passing women is a part of our culture . . . and has been since the Pyramids were built.  When men are involved in a male-only, masculine exercise like construction, demolition, defense, or hacking code, then they revert to the base-level of masculine culture in an effort to find common language and streamline efficiency.  As such, group objectification of passing women not only encourages genuine bonding among the men (sorry, ladies, we're really just that way), it also allows a brief emotional break from the intensity and focus of the work . . . and a natural point at which to resume.

That seems like a minor thing, but taking that away from men (as feminists want to do in pursuit of a "non-sexist" world) would be the functional equivalent of allowing women to work together without being able to discuss their relationships with each other.  No, really.

Instead of trying to "help", LadySadie and her daughters went inside and prepared food and other refreshments for the Menfolk.  And they stayed the hell out of their way.  That wasn't a humiliating demotion to domesticity on her part, it was a conscious and appropriate decision to contribute to the effort in the most powerful way she could: by supporting the existing masculine organizational structure both materially (food) and emotionally (Caritas-lite, Cheerleader variety).

As LadySadie related to me in a private email,

I don't know exactly how to state this, but there seemed to be a big boost of respect for [the Beau] from the other men because I was there doing the meals and staying quiet and out of the way. 

The respect that LadySadie detects is genuine, and it's not because her Beau is adept at keeping his woman quiet and in the kitchen.  The respect is the honest tribute due a man who has managed to build a relationship strong enough with a woman so that she respects HIS need to handle his manly business, with the implied reciprocal agreement that he respects HER need to handle her womanly business.  They aren't giving him respect because he's being oppressive, they are paying him respect out of admiration for his ability to build a sturdy House.

If the issue was stuffing envelopes or making signs for an event -- social organization and promotion being usually more in the feminine realm than the masculine -- then those same men will further pay the Beau respect when he has to bow out of boy's night because "LadySadie needs my help to get ready for the parade tonight."  They won't rag on him one bit: he has established his mature masculine credibility by demonstrating the strength of his relationship in public.  After that, when your woman requires your aid, not providing it at need is going to get you a lot more crap from your friends than handling your relationship business.

Most women in the post-feminist era are scornful of such gestures, seeing them as an inherently demeaning assumption of traditional gender roles.  The first time a young Mrs. Ironwood asked Papa Ironwood what she could do to help work on her car, she almost had a fit when he told her calmly, "Just stand there, be quiet and look pretty."  But she learned quickly enough.

LadySadie, being wise and understanding of the Red Pill, knew that the visible support of women for men while they are working adds both incentive and validation of their effort.  Men thrive on female gratitude for honest, hard work done on their behalf.  Indeed, if it is lacking in quantity . . . then so will the man in question be.

LadySadie points out that while she and her girls were being helpful and supportive, a couple of the men who had graciously donated their time, tools, talents, and trucks to help were repeatedly harassed by text or phone by their wives.  Each text or call doubtlessly slowed down the effort.  When men are working, we like to WORK, without interruption or distraction.

As annoying as the telebitching was, I've personally experienced even worse female forays into the masculine realm in the wake of a disaster.  I live in Hurricane Alley.  I'm the veteran of over fifteen major storms, including rockstars like Fran, Bertha, Andrew, and Floyd.  When shit has fallen out of the sky all over the place, a Man with a Chainsaw and a Truck is suddenly the most important man in town.  

The amusing thing about post-disaster cleanup in my town is the number of "strong, independent" women who are "perfectly capable" of doing "anything a man can do".  When the feces hit the fan, these women tend to divide into two rough groups: the larger "Oh, God, why isn't anyone helping me?" victim group whose answer to the crisis is to try to call a commercial tree-removal service and then complain bitterly when they can't get out there in a timely fashion, and the "I can handle this myself!" group.  In most cases, they demonstrably cannot.

(I'm not talking about lesbians here, for the most part.  My town has a HUGE number of lesbians, I'm proud to say.  The vast majority aren't man-hating feminazis or radfem Third Wavers, most are just women trying to live a normal life in a safe place . . . and my gods, the power tools . . .   The lesbians I've worked with and had as neighbors have generally been broad exceptions to this rule, and most are knowledgeable enough of masculine modes of work that they can blend almost seamlessly in a job.  I love lesbians.)

The objectionable women are the heterosexual dominants, usually divorced or married to Beta/Gamma schlubs, who feel that "if a man can do it, I can too" . . . and then they actually try, with little or no idea of what they are doing.  I saw this repeatedly after Fran.  I saw one woman rant, outraged, at the local Lowe's store because they hadn't stocked enough chainsaws, and actually insist on talking to a manager and filing a complaint with Corporate (which had also been hit by the storm) . . . on a store without power, without a roof, and which had graciously decided to open up in the parking lot to help with the crisis.

I watched another (sorry, Yankee) woman I knew dealt with her frustration of having a 150 year old pinoak tree neatly bisect her garage and her minivan during Fran by screaming first at the insurance adjuster, then at her husband, over why they couldn't "just call someone to deal with it!".  They tried to explain that the destruction was so wide-spread that there was literally no one available to answer a phone in any shop because everyone was already out in the field, and the phone lines and power was down.  She said that was ridiculous - it was business hours, wasn't it?  Her entire attitude was that it was up to the rest of the world to fix her problem, and that she was inherently entitled to action on her behalf, regardless of the situation.

The adjuster fled -- the husband should have.  She had steadfastly intervened in his developing any close friendships with other guys over the years, instead inflicting her own circle of divorced harpies and bitter, unmarried girlfriends on him.  When she angrily demanded that he "call some friends to help", he had to admit - in front of me and a couple of other neighbors - that he didn't have any dudes he could call.

Don't look at me.  I had shit to do myself, and there was no way I was getting in the way of that woman.

This is the funny part.  In the end, the woman decided that she could handle the tree herself, because "none of you damn men are competent enough to do it!".  After hacking her way through the branches to the minivan door, she got the car successfully started.  The tree was suspended between the back of the crushed van and the garage, so she felt she didn't even need to secure it, since it was "attached naturally".  Several of us tried to talk us out of it, but she dismissed us all as being both incompetent and attempting to undermine her "independence" as a woman.

So we watched with a mixture of amusement and horror as she drove the minivan forward twenty feet, pulled the pinoak canopy off of the garage . . . and caused the deadfall suspended within to take out her kitchen and about half of her dining room.  Insurance didn't cover it, of course -- it happened after the adjuster she'd just pissed off had left, and she caused it.  Because she was strong, independent, and didn't need a man's help.

If there is justice in the universe, that dude has gotten divorced by now.

She wasn't alone.  Single moms and corporate spinsters are virtually helpless in the aftermath of disaster, dependent on menfolk for aid and assistance.  All they can do, it seems, is beg, cry in frustration, and complain bitterly about the unfairness of things.  The manual labor and tool-using ability they sneer at during good times suddenly becomes vital, but they have a hard time attracting it.  Those who disparage men and masculinity during good times cannot expect to be subject to their masculine grace in bad times.  Those who discourage masculine pursuits and solid male relationships in their husbands' lives have no right to expect their "males" to sudden become Men, just because the power is out and the roof is leaking.  

Men built this civilization.  Men can wreck it.  And only Men can rebuild it.

Over and over again our modern world has shown how fragile it is in the face of such disaster, or terrorist attack, or random force of chaos.  The sophisticated post-industrial civilization that allows women the luxury of feminism can be wiped away in moments, especially in an era of festering police wars and global climate change.  How many feminists were running toward the Twin Towers on 9-11 when they were burning and collapsing, and how many were running away?  How many former Boy Scouts were running toward them . . . and how many were running away?

We're all one meteor away from a paleolithic existence or worse -- and that's an inevitability, not a possibility.  When the sky gods war or the earth goddess dances, when the human curse of zealotry or simple stupidity lays waste to our delicate civilization, it takes Men, doing Manly things, to bring us back from the edge of barbarism.  Despite all the hoopla about the "civilizing" force of femininity, we'd all be holding our book clubs in mud huts, if women were in charge of building Civilization.

Gender roles are important at such times.  When men are willing to toil and labor for the common good, they don't do it for money.  Beyond their inherent altruism and civic spirit, they do it for the respect and honor they get from their male peers, and the affirmation and admiration they get from the women in their lives.  If your dude has been out tearing apart the twisted remains of a barn in your yard, ladies, don't offer to "help".  Instead, smile, ask if there's anything he needs, thank him and his buds for what a good job they're doing, and get the hell out of there.

And if he calls to you, "Hey, Babe, how 'bout fixin' me a sammich?", I can assure you that that's his way of saying "I love you, thank you, I aim to do you proud."  He just doesn't want to say that in front of his dudes.  It will break their workflow.  He'll tell you later, when you're alone . . . and you can really thank him for his herculean efforts properly.

A man at work is always a hero in his own mind, and a Red Pill woman can impel him to even greater heights of heroism and dedication just by expressing gratitude, respect, and appreciation in a way he understands.  You can criticize his efforts, or you can inspire him to go fight dragons on your behalf.

And hell.  What woman could ask for more than that?

No Guts, No Glory: Quit Being A Pussy About Love

For all of you doubters out there, let me lay some Cosmic Wisdom on you: Love exists.

That may seem like a whacky thing to hear from a dude who prides himself on taking a Red Pill approach to life -- but the Red Pill isn't about just the harsh, stark realities of life, it's also about being honest about the good things in your life.  

Take a step back and think about it for a moment: the idea of the Red Pill is to substitute, as much as possible, an Objective perspective ("how things actually are") for a Subjective perspective ("how things seem to be through our own perception filters") when collecting data and making decisions about your life.  That means ALL things, not just the stuff we're buggin' about.

Now, I'm not running down the power of the Subjective approach to reality.  There are whole vistas of human endeavor that depend utterly on our ability and willingness to set aside the Objective facts and substitute a Subjective perspective that proves more useful.  Hope, for instance, is predicated on the idea that even though things are shitty, that things will not remain shitty . . . without any shred of evidence that is, in fact, true.

Similarly, Fortitude is based not on the idea that you can, objectively, make it through a crisis, but that you, subjectively, WILL make it through a crisis, even though the objective facts of the matter seem to run counter to that proposition.  Hope, Fortitude, Courage, and dozens of other facets of the human condition require a Subjective approach to reality in order for us to overcome our perceived weaknesses and achieve.

Blue Pill reality happens when you put all your chips on the Subjective, and discard all but the most glaring elements of the Objective.  You not only believe in the power of Love, you're willing to use it as a justification and rationalization for the most foolish and self-destructive behaviors.  You not only believe in Fairness, you assume that everyone else also believes in Fairness and is trying to promote it just as fervently as you.  You not only believe in Equality, you insist that you're getting Equality, even when you are unfairly penalized by a system or culture that determines that your group, for whatever reason, is less equal than others.

That Blue Pill overdose leads to irrational idealism.  The Red Pill overdose leads to hopeless cynicism.

Neither one of those things leads to actual happiness.  

Athol makes an excellent point when he discusses the need for the Blue Pill, despite the number of ardent Red Pill proponents who insist that Love is a fruitless endeavor undermined by the "Red Pill Reality".  The Red Pill can be a heady experience, don't misunderstand - it will open your eyes to see the social universe in a whole new perspective.  Once you understand the underpinnings of modern social/sexual behavior through the lens of the science of evolutionary biology and neurochemistry, the impulse to reduce everything to those terms is almost irresistible 

But while the Red Pill shows you the stark reality of the dating arena in this day and age, it should also point out the fact that yes, Love still exists in the world, and it's possible for any human being to find it.  Hopelessly shmaltzy?  Or pragmatic observation?  Attend:

Love, as we understand the base emotion, can be loosely defined as "the emotion of feeling another person's happiness and well-being are a precondition of your own".

Mother love, Caritas, first results when a mommy fulfills her baby's vital need for comfort and sustenance, and that emotional transaction continues to be replayed throughout our lives.

Philios, "brotherly love", first results when we are children, and we develop empathy and sympathy for our playmates.  We don't want our friends to get hurt, and we don't want our friends to hurt us.  Those who take Philios to extremes often find themselves tirelessly devoted to improving the welfare of their fellow man even at the expense of their own well-being, using the buzz of Universal Compassion as their justification.  

Agape, the love between Man and the Divine, is  exercise of self-awareness and an existential development of a total psycho-spiritual response to the Universe.  It can develop in anyone, at any time, and be either profound or fleeting or both.

Then there is Eros.

Our conception and perspectives on Eros develop at adolescence  when our child bodies are subjected to the forge of puberty and we start noticing the opposite (or same) sex in a sexual manner.  "Sex", of course, is the goal.  Sex for reproduction, sex for pair-bonding, sex for recreation, sex because the cable is out again.

But Sex is not Eros.  It's merely a component -- albeit the essential component -- for Eros.  The motivation for Eros may be Sex -- 'cause orgasms are cool and all -- but Eros encompasses a far wider field than the mindless rutting implied in hook up culture.  True Eros is the combination of Sex with a deeper understanding of the soul of the Other Person.  True Eros is the institutionalization of a mutual feeling in which each party's happiness and well-being is essential to either and both.

True Eros happens -- and keeps happening -- because our sexual feelings become entangled with our compassionate feelings, the whole thing gets washed out in a wave of oxytocin and serotonin and vasopressin, and somewhere in our neurology a switch gets flipped: we make the emotional decision, quite apart from the objective situation, that the Other Person's well-being is now essential to your own.  Every aspect of their well-being.  

The gratification we get from the experience can be completely one-sided.  I've seen cases when unrequited love, instead of turning sour, was enobled by sacrifice and higher purpose.  I'm not saying that those people went on to be happy, but they did feel the satisfaction of seeing the Other Person thrive and prosper which, to them, was reward enough.

But usually Love - Eros - the love between (for about 75-80% of the population) a man and a woman for the implied purpose of pairbonding and reproduction is mutual, at some point, in some form or fashion.  It may be unequal, it may be toxic, it may be abusive, but there is a reciprocal element there.  She loves me, I love her.  Or "My happiness is predicated on her's, and vice-versa".  That's Love.  And when that Love is Eros, then the implied responsibility for that Love takes us into some very intimate areas, places where the other forms of love - Agape, Caritas, Philios - cannot touch.

Eros implies a pairbond, a mutual exchange of compassion, fulfillment and caregiving at the most intimate of levels, an exchange that benefits both parties.  The benefits may not always be equal in strength or capacity, but it is the reciprocity that is the key element in true Eros.  Following your wife around, kissing her ass and begging for sex Blue Pill style is not true Eros, because it has lost the reciprocal element.  Similarly, demanding sex from your wife regardless of her feelings in the matter might be pure Red Pill, for some people, but it is not true Eros.

There is balance in Eros.  Equilibrium.  Rarely is their Equality, simply because relationships are dynamic things and the notion of "equality" is highly contextual and idealistic.  Balance and Equilibrium are pragmatic concerns: when your wife is sick, you tend to her, you don't order her to clean the house.  When you lose your job, she should tend to you, not berate you for your failure.  True Eros implies not just the willingness to put another person's well-being as conditional to your own, but the willingness to adapt and modify your personal behavior to improve the nature of the equilibrium.

True Eros means you don't kidney-punch in an argument.  True Eros means you don't call each other mean names.  True Eros means you recognize and acknowledge the vulnerabilities of your mate, and while you are not obliged to "fix" them, you are obliged not to damage them further or put them in a position where others may do so.  True Eros means you are not just each other's intimate lover, but also their guardian, defender, and protector.  True Eros means that you hold each other to a high standard of accountability, but don't dwell on failures except as they serve as learning experiences.  True Eros means withholding summary judgement, considering your partner's perspective thoughtfully before acting, and being willing to sacrifice on their behalf.

That last part usually makes people squirm.  Thanks to 2000 years of Christianity (no offense), the idea of 'sacrifice' has been kicked around so much and in so many arcane directions that we often forget what it means, at its root: to give something meaningful up to the Sacred.  It doesn't have to be your life, it can be a goat, a cow, a car, a belief, a cherished heirloom, a perspective, a prejudice, an ignorance, a purpose, a plan, a vacation, a dream.  Because of the Big Sacrifice implicit in the Passion, too often Christians (and our Christian-influenced secular culture) misunderstands the nature and utility of sacrifice, seeing it only in its most stark and mortal terms.  They often miss its pragmatic nature.

Yet if we consider our pairbonds sacred, see our marriages as holy rites implicit with sacred responsibilities, if we accept that we are the priests and priestesses serving the higher purpose of establishing Eros - the basis of the Family - in our sanctified unions, then we alone are responsible for its success or failure . . . and far too often the abortive marriages we see in our society are due to the unwillingness of one or both parties' willingness to sacrifice for the benefit of the greater entity.

Western consumer "me" culture has taught us to ask "what's in it for me?", and then reduce the answers down to the absolute most objective elements, making a relationship a cost-benefit analysis, first and foremost.  Women shop for husbands like shoes, these days, trying on one after another and then changing their mind in a fit of hypergamous indecision.  Men shop for wives like cars, finding the shiniest, prettiest model they can afford and then being all-to-willing to swap it out for a newer model if he can afford it.

Neither approach leads to true Eros, and those who seek "love" through a numbers game or based on superficial issues are almost always doomed to disappointment.  True Eros isn't just passion -- we can just about bottle and sell passion these days.  Yet true Eros is in scant supply.  True Eros isn't about "variety", it's about interest.  True Eros doesn't come and go; it's hard to start, it's difficult to encourage, it's fiendishly tricky to maintain, and it takes skill and talent to sustain over the years.

True Eros implies trust, and that's a hard thing for a battle-scarred Red Pill veteran of Combat Mating to generate, when every member of the opposite sex is viewed with automatic suspicion.  True Eros implies compassion, and that's hard for a Red Pill man or woman to indulge in without being critical - for we are compassionate when the Other Person is damaged or weak or unfortunate.  The Red Pill often reveals to us just why they got that way, and it becomes all-too-easy to dismiss their pains and anxieties as "their own fault", which is the antithesis of compassion.

True Eros implies Respect, and the Blue Pill is far too ready to lend itself to a condescending, disrespectful, or obsequious pattern of behavior.  When we are too idealistic about how things should be, we hold out unrealistic expectations for our partner, which leads inevitably to disappointment  which leads - too often - to disrespect.  True Eros implies Devotion, and the Blue Pill seeks to bury both the intensity and the commitment intrinsic to that impulse under the weight of "independence", as if Eros could exist when either party is more devoted to their own happiness and well-being than that of their mate.

Trust.  Compassion.  Respect.  Devotion.  These are the things that contribute to the Love that is true Eros: the real True Love, leading to the real Happily Ever After.  Those are the ONLY things that can get you there.  If you don't have all four, then you don't have true Eros.

But to get there, as a priest or priestess devoted to the sacred nature of their union, you must sacrifice your mistrust, your vulnerability, your disdain, and your selfishness.  That may seem contra to the Red Pill philosophy to some, but I argue that the Red Pill insists we see things as they are . . . and the objective fact is that there are plenty of people who achieve true Eros, even in our damaged and evolving society.

The Red Pill Fact is that it isn't impossible to trust, respect, love and devote yourself to a person and not be betrayed.  While we see plenty of examples of total disasters, when it comes to marriage and relationships, if we look objectively we can also see quite a few examples of folks who, through talent, trial and error, or luck, got it right.

Love, true Eros, isn't impossible under the Red Pill.  Indeed, it is the ultimate fulfillment of the Red Pill, if you have found and vetted the Other Person to the point where you trust them, feel for them, respect them, and can comfortably devote yourself to their well-being.  That doesn't mean harboring illusions about their personality, mental and emotional state, or other issues, it means acknowledging the problems, being dedicated to the solutions, and being willing to weather a tempest or two while you come to that equilibrium.

Athol says we need both the Red Pill and the Blue Pill, the ALPHA mode and the BETA mode to be in a fulfilling Red Pill marriage, and I cannot disagree.  Vox adds, cogently, 

"I don't recommend choosing illusion over reality, but it is also important to understand that the potential for doing evil is not the same as actually committing it.  And experiencing temptation is not action.  Knowing that a woman does not belong on a pedestal is not synonymous with believing that she dwells in a sewer." 

I will go one further: you cannot discard the possibility of true Eros, of Love fulfilled, even of passionate and exciting Romance, and hope to find happiness with the Red Pill.  Contentedness, perhaps, but not happiness.  

There are no guarantees, and the cynics who abound in the Manosphere desperately want some.  That's their fear talking: fear of rejection, fear of failure, fear of judgement.  They deride the idea of love because it's naturally safer for them to do so - without expectation, there can be no disappointment   Love, even the possibility of true Eros, is a very scary thing regardless of your gender, and often it seems just more sensible and reasonable to abandon the idea altogether -- hell, it's very tempting.  Athol, Vox and I get that.

But those supposedly Red Pill men who are certain that all women are secretly evil and prospective goldigging hypergamists, who don't think that love, true or otherwise, is even possible . . .y'all aren't just ignoring the objective fact that it is possible, y'all are being a bunch of pussies.

Seriously.  It's implicit to a mature masculinity that good men are willing to take risks.  Hell, taking risks is the male prerogative,  it's our forte.  Yet men who would put their life savings on Black and spin the wheel with abandon won't even approach women because of the "risk" of their hearts and wallets.  Men who would gamble that they can draw just a little bit faster than the other guy don't want to risk their feelings being hurt by rejection.  Guys who are willing to borrow extravagantly to fund an enterprise with little hope of a return aren't willing to consider that maybe -- just maybe -- all women aren't there to take them to the cleaners in a divorce.  That all women aren't unfaithful.

You men who feel that love is beyond your reach due to your culture, your era, your society, or the vagaries of feminism . . . stop being such a pussy.  Take a risk.  That doesn't mean you have to be stupid about it, blinded by love and led around by your dick, but right now you sound like the whiny kid who always stands on the sideline during Dodge Ball because he's scared to get hurt.  Yeah, love is scary.  Get over it and take the hit like a man.

The Red Pill didn't promise you Love, it merely shows you the schematics.  It didn't make you divorce-proof, it merely gave you some skills to deal with the possibility.  Vox can't tell you how to find the perfect woman, and Athol can't tell you how to have the perfect marriage, all they can do is point you in the right direction.  It's up to you to take the risks, make yourself vulnerable, and open yourself to the possibility of trusting a woman . . . because there are dudes out there who have made it work, and work well.  It's not impossible.  We're not fooling ourselves.  Yeah, we're lucky . . . but we were also smart enough to know when to sacrifice what was needed for the greater glory of our union.  We have taken upon ourselves to be the priests who do what needs to be done to keep the union sacred, and part of that is the risk of being hurt.

That's why a lot of us Old Married Guys (defined these days as anyone who has made it 10 years -- yeah, we know, we're depressed by that, too) who have taken the Red Pill and are running and enjoying Married Game shake our heads at the MGTOW who are so vocally anti-marriage.  Because taking the calculated risk of finding and loving someone who will, likewise, trust, love, respect, and devote themselves to you IS a perfectly valid way for a Man to Go His Own Way.

The key is to keep an objective eye on everything, the bad and the good, and a subjective perspective in your heart that knows yourself well enough to recognize a good thing when you see it.

Look, if you really, truly aren't "the marrying type" or genuinely recognize that you truly aren't that interested in pairbond in general, if you are preoccupied by your profession or your vocational passion and you feel that splitting your focus would detract from that, if you just don't think that romance, love, and Eros are that important . . . dude, I hear you.  Quit talking about how the rest of us are doomed idiots.  Go your own way with our collective blessing secure in the knowledge that you have made a conscious, informed decision . . . for you.

But if you harbor secret longings for true love and romance and a woman who will stay steadfastly by your side, devoted, loving, capable and as respectful of your masculinity as you are of her femininity . . . then don't look at the Mating 2.0 world as a disaster.  To do that is to admit defeat and concede that you have abdicated the quest for greatness, and have clung instead to the flotsam of mediocrity.  If you look at the women of the world and recoil in fear and horror instead of preparing yourself for the challenge of finding a superior mate -- and in the process make yourself a superior mate -- then you've already lost.  You're spiritually soiling yourself in front of ancestors who tamed the wilderness, crossed the oceans, built mighty empires and defeated insurmountable foes . . . because you can't handle the idea of losing something you don't even have yet.

Now go out there, learn some Game, inform yourself, hone your skills, take a fucking risk . . . and quit being such a pussy about love.  This isn't rocket science.  This isn't a marathon.  This isn't a fiendishly clever international plot to turn you into a mindless ATM machine . . . believe me, feminists just aren't that bright about that sort of thing.  Yes, the weather conditions could be better, but a man doesn't shirk from cloudy skies when sunshine might be over the horizon.

Love is a human universal -- not just sex, but true Eros.  It occurs in every human culture, and is the basis for some of our most powerful myths and legends.  Many, if not most of your ancestors knew of love, even when they were terrible at it.  This is something that men have mastered for thousands of years . . . and your whining and despair about how awful it is right now insults your ancestors and undermines your own self-respect.

That's not how a mature, masculine man reacts to danger.  He educates himself, understands the risks and the rewards, he prepares, he trains . . . and he at least makes the best attempt he can.

No Guts, No Glory: Either get in the game or quit yelling to the rest of us from the sidelines that we'll get hurt .  We know the risks, we know the dangers, but we know the rewards possible, too.  Assuming that no men are capable of managing a successful relationship just because you can't - when it's pretty clear that quite a few of us are - doesn't make you more wise, intelligent, or Red Pill-astute.  It just makes you look like a pussy who's just scared of getting hurt by the ball.  So get over it.

You're embarrassing us.