Sunday, 31 March 2013

Another Awesome Mark Minter Comment

Again, people have toos go ahead and ask the question: How the hell does this guy not have a blog? Re-posted from Dalrock.

If you start pouring into those statistics about who is getting what degree and you start breaking it down by ethnic group, if you really get deep into the numbers, what you see is feminist cheerleading.
Ok, A light bulb joke. I am going to abbreviate it for the sake of the discussion.
How many feminists does it take to change a lightbulb.

One to change the bulb,

One to shame men for creating a world that needs light bulbs

One to demean men for creating light bulbs that need changing.
And one to claim that women are now outlightbulbing men.

There is a 4% difference between white men and white women in the number of bachelors degrees awarded. All the rest of this is minority women, Hispanic and black women. And yes, the majority of the degrees that men earn are more marketable and often a masters degree in those fields is not worth the loss in income that a man would have to sustain by staying in school. And the reality of being a man, a young man, is you better get your ass to work because you don’t have a Vagina. 

And I going to say this. Having a vagina is good thing that definitely yields cash and prizes. Solomon II did a calculation and based on what he was spending on the women in his life, $1400 by a conservative estimate, which included things like him factoring out his half of a dinner check, or his movie ticket, and didn’t consider things like having a more expensive car because of women, more expensive house, than he would have had if he had not desired a social life with women. And he calculated that it basically added up to about a $100,000 injection directly into the lives of women by the time they are 30. 

So when you are cute coed at the height of you SMV, the poverty of college life is lot more bearable if you actually don’t have to bear it. And like the Romeo Void song says “A girl in trouble is a temporary thing” because when you whine and cry, someone steps in the fix that car when it breaks, find money for your books when they have to be bought, even feed you when you go hungry.
But for young men, they could fucking die and nobody cares. Once when I was college, I ate cornbread mix and water to shut my stomach down from hunger pains while I lived in shit single room in a crap cooperative because it was all I could afford. And I had the GI Bill. A typical boy doesn’t even have that. And every semester it was a struggle to get college paid for and find the money to buy books and I was own my fucking own. With no Vagina. 

Consider even earlier than college. So EPL mom tosses out beta dad. But she has young children so doesn’t really think of pairing up again. But then when the kids get to be, say 12-14 years old, then she looks at the clock on the wall and says “Fuck, I’m 36, I better get me some gettin’ before I run out of time”. So she finds her a man and then brings him into her life. I had this happen to my kids. I had a daughter who was quite attractive and a son. Guess what? Stepdad knows he better get along with the daughter or he is out, actually he wants to get along with her because she’s cute. But the boy, my wife tells him he better suck it up and get along with the new man. And she pushes him aside to make room for the new man. And of everyone involved, the boy was the one that got shit on. My ex takes out a second mortgage and builds out the basement into a hotel suite for the daughter, the boy has to share his room with the man’s son. And they fucking fought, like fist fights. My kid beat the shit of the other kid because he is sick of being pushed around by everyone. So what happens, he is the villain, but only because he won. So they drag his ass of to therapy. 

So imagine this happening all over to all kinds of boys, where the “new” man pushes the boy out of the way. And then when it is college time, if it is that cute little step daughter and she needs money for this or that, then, lo and behold, it gets found. But when it is the son, fuck him. When the cute step daughter comes home for the summer, it all happy happy happy. But the son, fuck him.
So this adds up. One boy here, one boy there and you get that discrepancy, the vagina gap.
And there are some assumptions that women jump to. Women out earn young men until 28 but then that gap closes. So feminists all leap to conclusion that it falls off because women then are distracted by child rearing and “women chores”.

How about women have a vagina? How about young women have preferential status compared to young men but there is an SMV intersection at 28? So once that SMV advantage falls off then men start to pull ahead. The power of the pussy stops having its draw, stops giving access and advantage that is supreme over even ability. How about that men actually give a shit more at work then women do and the nature of men is it takes until 28 for them to fully developed as men, as thinkers, as doers, and up until 28 they are apprentices, more or less. How about the fact that by 28, the nature of the work is that you have to be paid for doing something other than being cute. How about the fact that men enter hard, dangerous, or complicated jobs and it takes until 28 to become competent at those jobs. 

But no, women all jump to the conclusion that there is some institutional bias just by looking at a number, when every evo pysch principle says that men are disposed to compete and women are not, and when 28 comes around, those men are hitting 4th gear on that big block engine. That small block might rev faster and get the jump until 1500 yards, but when that big block get into 4th, then baby that race is over. 

You know what. On Jezebel today Lindy West has this rant about hating men and men make it self fulfilling prophecy. She goes through all these points about friction between men and women, particularly MRA claims. So she says “I’m Sorry That You Are in Pain, But Please Stop Taking It Out on Women”. Mostly she address MRA whines like it is the whole manosphere, those “misandry issues” are the thing that has men so pissed off. She is obviously is confused and misses that men are pissed off on a very personal level over the personal relationships they have with women, the actions of women in those relationships, the disgust men are having towards women in their conduct of their personal lives, and the new paths, the new ways of living that men are deciding to adopt instead of “what was”. 

But I take great pleasure that she is writing that article that “men are taking it out on women”. That means that our message is getting through and it is getting through on worldwide basis. That means the men are getting in their faces, standing up, being obstinate to the point Lindy West from Jezebel is having to write this article instead of another “bash men, attack men” article.Take this story. It was quite the web topic a few days. A website in Singapore has some “fairy tales” that appear to chide women in being aware of their limited fertility. They are cartoons like Snow White, Cinderella, etc. Here is an excerpt from the Huff Post.
The Singaporean Fairytale website features 15 updated fairy tales along with facts about fertility, marriage and pregnancy. And more than one of the fairy tales seems to shame women for waiting to or choosing not to have children. The story of The Golden Goose explicitly ties women’s value to their fertility. It reads:

The Golden Goose was prized for her eggs / That shone light in brilliant gold / But there soon came a time she could make them no more / For her egg-making device was rusty and old.
Other stories offer similar messages: The Fairy Godmother is mocked for being “a maiden some suspect past forty” with “ten cats” and no suitors — the horror! — and Alice (formerly of Wonderland) is “wild and reckless.” A pop-up bubble warns readers that “the extended adolescence of twentysomethings today has a biological cost for women.”

So all the women’s publications all leaped right on this as this site chiding women in their responsibilities of fertility, sexism, yadayadayada. And the site was indirectly funded by the Singapore government but only in that the media training program in a college is funded. There was no desire on the government to have a site with fertility message created. But the women all jumped all over this this as a message from the government because Singapore has the same issues, same low birthrate, same drop off in marriage as the west. 

And it went right over the head of women. 

What this was some college boys from Singapore sticking women with manosphere “digs”, “insults”. Messing with women. Basically using the message on the Dalrock blog as a means “poke” and “insult” women for their behavior and actions. “Alice” had on “YOLO” shirt and was driving a convertible from the passenger seat with her foot on the steering wheel, basically those students way of saying she was carousel rider. A 4o year old with cats is what happens to carousel riders. And every one of fairy tales had a Manosphere dig in it. 

And it went right over those women’s head as they screamed about the sexist message in the fables.
What they missed is that some boys, some 20 year old Asian boys, in Singapore, English speakers that read English websites, manosphere sites, are spitting back the Manosphere message, the Dalrock message, in the face of women.

Gentlemen, we are starting to win.

Saturday, 30 March 2013

Taking Down The Cathedral and Lindy West is Fat and Smelly

Friday night during freeside ken, coat is warm, watching a plethora of flusterous fiends falter and flip out to the latest banging tune. Was flinging back beers at a free gaf, chips en dips on de table kind of thing, pure fucken gambrious at this stage of the game, but some of the other lads are fucking locked, and but so, this is so much the case thatwe're at the stage now where the lads have got the wii out and getting jiggy with it. Awww mad bie! Fucken skiing all de way down dat slope ken. Suddenly, an uproar. Hair on the back of your neck stands up. The beautiful, twitchy cacophony of two lassies getting intos an argument with each other. Yap yap, fucken yap. Who are yous, to like, go after my boyfriend like? Yap yap yap. There's nothing physical yet, (is it weird that I'm seeing catfights like this more and more) but we've got a few of the lads, lets call them uhh...manboobs trying to get their Nat King Cole by thinking, ok, maybe just maybe if I help this perfidious slut out, she'll start crying about her sad little life and I'll be like there there wee lassie, you're not bad person, you're quite lovely or at least I think so and you're not a slutbag and she's like YOU'RE SO NICE BUT I JUST WANT TO BE FRIENDS WITH YOU I'M IN LOVE WITH BILLY HE RIDES A MOTORCYCLE thats ok beure I'll hold out for the pity fuck yes yes yes there's always youporn happy happy happy happy huh. 

We have a serious problem ken.

As I was sitting there, smiling, goofy looking motherfucker, helping myself to some more cheese en onion tayto, a couple of things dawned on me, or maybe it was the ale. For some of the more sagacious laddos out there, I'll conceit yous will be going "no shit sherlock" but anyway, I digress. First, for every proselyted young man who stumbles across the manosphere, there are at least twenty sitting down in Critical Theory 101, having Judith Butler postmodern porn jammed into their plastic fantastic craniums. This is troubling, disturbing, and the reason I notice this is because there be some real youngens at this party. Wet behind the ears lads giving lassie the whole ice cream routine. We're up against it. But here's the big flaming elephant in the room roysh. With the amount of lads who go about encouraging this silly kind of shite, it is reinforced, air tight en aw, in the mind of the lassie. The sociology department, the english department is creating a generation of beta males. Well duh ken. Now game is great and sweet and fucken holy en aww blah blah blah, but under the cloak of liberalism, even Stevie the Sigma is not going to make much leeway.

Sperm is cheap. Eggs are expensive as Roissy said. The daisy chain of dead stars staring man in the face as part of the night sky, endless capacious universe, you are not even a butt boil ken. You are a dead sell, and reality is the house. And the house always wins.

So, you have The Cathedral, as always it comes back to The Cathedral. The Cathedral is cowardly, home to decadence and intellectual dishonesty, money whoring, filling kids heads with filth like being able to "think for yourself". But, just like the Henry Ford saying "any color you want so as long as it's black" The Cathedral says "any belief you want so as long as it is liberal" and anyone who steps outside it is worse off than a fat guy in an army base. Your turn Private Pile. Hmm.

Let's divide up people. White knights? Lol, no one cares about them. They're fucken bennies, the whole lot of them. What are they but a solipsistic lever for the average lassie? Pull it down, all the way down, and down through the chute comes excessive praise, complements, and various other examples of hole lickery. No one cares about men. Deal with it shitkep. MRA's don't understand this, and it is one of the reasons that they're fucking wastes of space and time. Yeah, lets all be equal ken. Just like Aurini said, equality cannot be found in nature, so what fills the void? Answer: The State. Average lads? Yeah, we'll get back to that. STEM lads as well some other time. But here's the thing. If you want to take down The Cathedral, you have to convert women. Women have to understand what the bloody shit are going one. Why? There are two reasons for this. First, lets take a look at a fat cunt like Lindy "I wash myself with a sponge on a stick" West. She's a stupid fat cunt who should choke on an Oreo right? I agree with you tenfold brother.

So, let's say Lindy West gets up, on a fresh, Monday morning,  NOMNOMNOM cheetos,  and waddles with her big walrus feet to the computer. Some exercise today, the doctor recommends, the scooter is for Tuesdays only. She checks the email. She sees a legion of Manosphere laddos talking shite about her. The rotund hamster manning the controls rationalizes that these are evil, women hating misogynists and she continues on her merry way and decides, fuck it, she'll treat herself with the scooter. She is an empowered woman after all. But, the lassie is of course more herd and crowd like. What happens if de sisterhood turns against her? What if sees a list of vitrolic comments, all from women, all calling her shite out and the boyfriend? The cunt is a jazz musician! Mmmhmm. But then, the hamster screams out and does a one eighty and we're left with a situation where West screams vengence is mine, and fucks right back to Valhalla to slumber and feed. This is why bloggers like judgybitch and tempesttcup are important. You have a woman calling out the shit of the sisterhood, and they start questioning themselves, suddenly they find themselves socially ostracized. Men, yeah, sure, they can rationalize away as being small penis never get laid haters. Women, not so much.

How do we convert women? Now this is a tough one. After all, if a critical theory English course can make Lord Byron, one of history's great players and users of women, out to be something he clearly isn't, then what hope does certain kinds of advertisements, art in general have? One must also bear in mind that due to de lower variance in IQ, the most intelligent men are going to kick the arses of the most intelligent women as well. So what can be done? The only thing that comes to mind of this cunt is that you alpha the shite out of your girlfriend. You give her squirting orgasms, pulling hair, strength, the whole lot. You spank her. You show her certain manosphere blogs. You get her to lift weights, dress in a feminine manner, eat paleo. You show her how to be a lassie. You treat fat, bitchy women like shit. You treat feminine, friendly women by being sort of nice guy, but with applying game, and acting like a nice person from a position of strength. Roosh talked about this kind of game in Poland.

But I'm not holding out for this. Men are becoming more effeminate. In Ireland they've started giving kids medication for getting in fights with other kids. Hooray en aw. Fat fucks fat. The rolls of rotundy goodness will be more than enough for the bitter gamma male and there wilnae be enough, second servings will be demanded. MRA's will sell out their own cause for the faintest whiff of cock pounded snatch. But this is important. Enough lassies on the side of masculine, powerful men, and Simone De Wrinkle will be nothing more than an unpleasant footnote in history. Not that a cunt like myself is confident mind you. There are some people who are going to be sacrificed at the alter of reality and there is nothing you can do about it but motor on in your own noble way. Vertiginous, espousing crap, taking a walk down isles of cinder. Let the dead bury the dead ken.

Monday, 25 March 2013

The Future of Game: Part Two

Fun with mathematical dick flinging ken! In the last post of the series, way back in yesteryear, wes went through meticulously some of the effects of de game pirulating the mainstream media. The equation derived was as follows: Game being slammed in the media+belief perseverance fallacy+shitty willy nilly fucking willpower=the lessons of game are not going to sink into that thick skull of yours properly. 

Now, we make the model non linear ken. This is where shit gets interesting. Now, the following I propose is all speculation, bluff, and in any other epoch would prove quite facetious, but we live in interesting times, a time where liberalism, social and cultural and the economic means of production are at war with post scarcity economics. First one to the end of the line is a dead, smelly civilization en aw. Only this time we don't have men manning the starboard. Rather, timorous hordes of milquetoast beta males, with the cunt with the big book of ineffable, intolerable thoughts telling a lad that he be a ciquadogiraffepossedheteronormative spazcunt who hates people who are less privileged than himself. Keep that in mind at all times.

First, as I mentioned in this post, entertainment is going to be an enormous player in terms of shaping the populous and its beliefs. Under entertainment, well, I'm using it in a broad sense. Videogames, fast food, porn, in otherwords, superficial, not of value, you don't have to suffer/put under anything mentally strenuous in order to appreciate it. One of the reasons I fear entertainment so much is not just because it is superficial and makes a cunt feel unfulfilled, but because it will no doubt become more and more addictive as time goes on. The burger will get burgerier. The porn will be in higher definition. The videogame will be more immersive than last year's title. The longer you go ken, the harder it will be to give up. So, with this, and the fact that people (especially since the Boomer generation, if you look at their accounts and lack of savings) have been getting progressively worse and delaying short term gratification, the longer the manosphere takes to pirulate the mainstream media, the more plugged in men and women will be, as we descend into this sort of bastardized Brave New Worldish, but not quite existence. Fuck it. People will be so immersed, then game could be staring them in the face and nothing felt, nothing seen. Wine and beer, fags and weed have been around for a very long time. Good enough for me and good enough for you as well ken! Ditch it. Ditch the entertainment.

Second, you are going to have an alpha male sexual oligopoly in the future. With the paleo diet, hgh and testosterone supplements, treatments for hair loss which are getting cheaper and better, a man can stay younger looking than ever before. Add to the fact that there are going to be more lassies not getting married and similar additions, and we're going to get more single 30+ women who are attractive. The big component of this? Income. Money. The job market is getting tighter and tighter. You're twenty years old? That lassie will go for Krauser or Danger and Play long before you ken, especially if you're still stuck with no moolah and living in your parent's basement. Game only does so much ken. Meanwhile, men with less experience in the game are going to be forced to fight it out for the rest of the lassies. The fucken dregs of society. Falling testosterone levels and demoralization of men, will lead to more pussy on a pedestal behaviour. Not to mention all dem rotund cunts tend to have rotund babies. Result? More obese women.  The fight will not be worth it for many a laddo, and voila! Screechy pyknic lassies and the game console Call of Duty 13 is launched up without further notice. Nothing against the man, but a society of Tim Sharkys will not last very long.

Third, this will create age conflict and class conflict. Cultural marxism lol? Try out alpha male verses beta male you cunts! The older generation will be antagonized for making a floundering fuckup of everything and the younger generation, are going to be, very, very, very pissed off with this. Single parents fuck things up? No. It will be worse than that. The young man will see the old parent who worked at his cushy job and got to retire early, while his degree in English Puppetry (fun fact that would make Aaron Clarey laugh, Ireland's biggest university is offering a masters in action movies, I shit you not) won't get him serving at the front of Mac E D's. This bitterness will tear communities apart even more. Like I said before, when Fight Club is the most important movie of your generation, something is seriously wrong. A lot of people are going to be out of work, and thus, we are left with Moldbug's problem, what I'd like to call it anyhoo. Gratuitous violence? Depends on the quality of the entertainment. 

Fourth, for the 10 percent of men who get a little bit of success at the game. As the quality of women drops, the ability to provide for a child drops, and as the man sees women being screwed over in divorce court, he's going to play the field a lot more. This ensures a precipitous drop in economic production. In simple terms, you only need enough to survive and keep your lassie on a string. No more, no less. No children is the biggest cost saver one can think of ken.

There are more, and I'll go over them in the next post, but I'll finish up with this. Don't worry, wee Franco ain't prevaricating. First, the recent Cyprus episode proved that the EUSSR (off topic, Helicopter Bernanke as well) will do EVERYTHING in their power to keep the house of cards propped up. How long can they do this? Who knows? But if they keep the charade going, what you'll see is a gradual decline, a slow, snaillike, shrouded in evanescence decline, until the bottom hits out in a big way. If there is a big bad economic collapse beforehand, you'll see a revert back to traditional roles, violence between different races, basically what is happening in Greece right now, and something populist to step in. Something a wee cunt doesn't want. And like all the men before you, you will be called up.

We need the internet. The internet is the only way we can piece this subject together. Subject to say, I've more to say on all this, but a couple of fringe bloggers and video makers like fringeelements and whatnot are well, not much. We're on the right side though.

We're just on the wrong side of history.

Saturday, 23 March 2013

Franco's Armchair: Review of Confessions of an Online Hustler by Matt Forney
Them cunts. They lied to us, theys did. Here, get this, get this piece of worthless paper you got studying transgender elephant studies and the money wil falow! Get it? Oh, you're not getting a job? But it's menial, soul sucking work? Sorry ye cunt! We all have toos work for a living son. Get used to it.

So you're tired. The Boomers fanny fudged everything up. I get that. We're on the same wavelength hombre. Whats a cunt to do then? What is a cunt to do? Well thank the flying spagetti monster for the internet. Blogging, making a mint, is the oilfields of yesteryear. All those places to strike digital oil, it sounds easy, right ken?

No. No fucken way. Leave the ego at the door ken. Like a lot of yous, I've trudged through the super squeaky clean 4 Hour Work Week and have been, taken in by the whole fact that making moolah this way is as easy as pie. If you want to keep that illusion alive, don't, I repeat, don't read Confessions. Forney is brutally honest straight off the bat. This is where pretty lies perish. Just like Bang by Roosh will dispel the myths of becoming a player by learning a few pick up lines and donning a gay as shit hat, Forney will hammer into your head the pragmatic approach one must take in relation to blogging. It must be a full time effort. It is hard work. It is busting your balls, with fuck all sleep, writing abouts another daft femcunt flaunting herself to the world. Write, write, write motherfucker, and keep doing do, Forney persists on this. Like I said, this book is very sobering. The romantic idea of the writer at the coffee shop putting together his work is torn to shreds here. The most jarring part of the book was Forney's confession that he hated writing. This, as someone like myself, who has been in the blogging game for about 8 months, was quite jarring, to say the least.

So what kind of audience is this book for? Simple. The person starting a blog for the first time, or a wee cunt like myself. And for that purpose, the book does a brilliant job. If you're starting a blog for the first time, this book is literally the equivalent of walking into the gym, never having lifted a weight in your entire life,, yet knowing and able to implement perfect lifting form. You still have to put the work in yourself, but shit me a brick, you still have a huge advantage over most of the people in there, dontcha ken? And for the length and the cost of the thing, it better fucken do that. Confessions does lads, it really does. It will tell you how to gain an audience, keep yourself anonymous (and how to deal with it when shit hits the fan). It will tell you how to construct a website in painstaking detail. It will give you advice on how to be a better writer. It will tell you about advertising, some excellent human psychology about getting big donations, and my favorite part of the book, the tier system, which is extremely intuitive and a great way to structure your blog and what the bloody shit you want to do with it. Basically, tier 3 is an all purpose blog where you write about whatever you feel like. You find out what the audience is into. Your cooking posts getting a lot of hits? Then you upgrade to Tier 2, a blog devoted to cooking. Finally, the moolah generator. The Tier 1 product. Forney recommends a book, due to cost purposes, but it could be any sort of goddamn thing under the sun.

Seriously, it maybe short, but there isn't a single bit of fat in this book. Not a sentence wasted, not a word out of place. It will tell you what you want to know, no more and no less ken.

Enormous credit must go out to Forney for his style of writing as well. It's smart, funny, arrogant, irreverent, iconoclastic, yet this is never at the expense of the book. The material is as well explained as it is going to be, so if you can't grasp what de bloody fuck be going on, that is your problem and your problem alone ken. There are one or two flaws I'll point out quickly there, but they aren't much really. First, on some of Blogger's criticisms. Forney makes a good case for using wordpress, but some of his criticisms of Blogger are incorrect. For example, you can very easily turn off the captcha feature in blogger, and posting comments on other blogs running off of blogger remains quite smooth as a result. As for blogger's censoring policy, this seems to be true, but it shouldn't be the biggest deal. I mean, blogs like Chaos And Pain regularly have pictures of gore and really fucked up porn, alongside quite a bit of politically incorrect stuff, but those blogs are still standing. so it's not like your manosphere blog is going to be taken down willy fucking nilly. Since Forney uses wordpress and is writing from that point of view, there's little to no talk about blogger, so this is never an issue. Finally, while I admire Forney for being honest, it almost feels like he is overcompensating a little bit in places. In otherwords, rather than just make out blogging to be a hard job, which is fine, he (intentionally or not) makes it out to be quite shitty. My question is then, if it is that shitty, then why do it? Why blog in the first place? Shouldn't I just take the piece of crap fast food job instead?

But these are minor quibbles. For the aspiring blogger, Confessions is a brilliant purchase. Think about it. Two hours reading and giving up a couple of pints in the bar, will save you weeks to months of doing stupid shit with your blog. That be a bargain ken. Ultimately, it's an impressive piece of work that fits in nicely with some of the other manosphere literature.

P.S: This is important. For the duration of this weekend (from 6am PST Friday March 22 to 9pm PST Sunday March 24), Forney is selling both paperback and electronic editions for half-off the regular price ($3.99 and $5.99 respectively, versus $7.99 and $11.99). So if you want it cheap, you don't have much more time to do so.

To buy it in paperback, click here.
To buy it from Amazon Kindle, click here.

Thursday, 21 March 2013

Amusing Ourselves to Death

Sit yourself down ken, cause I have a bit of news for yous. Ye gots it? Shit hot, shit! Baggie of white widow which you earned, hmm, using en abusing, yes, yous cranial capacity and, your mathematical prowess to earn, hmm, yes, touche and then, the kvetch gambrious cunt that you are, has gone, fucked right off, and purchased a myriad of goods, tesco discount shopping, whether it be hydrolosis made maltodextrin packets of dem tesco souple, salty highly processed packets of vinegar organic lol fancy pants crisps, room for one more cat. The rollie paper is out. The machine is hooked up to the sounds of My Bloody Valentine's new album on loop ken, and the kettle is boiling. with the containers of Pot Noodle filled to the brim. Cans of dutch, the drink of the devil, fucken jagermeister you know as, just in case because when the buzz wears off, a cunt cries out for more stimulus and reality starts too show its ugly mug again, and fuck me sideways, it isn't remotely pretty when that happens. The lad, what a lad, has hooked up the box and Fifa fucking 13 is loading up and things are a tad bit hazy right now. I think, scratch the old noggin. I'm in this naupy, parleficent kind of humor, everything is in this happy, misty capacious bubble. I float and the lad beside me is playing as Rooney. Kickout. Pheep. Fucken gets the keeper to kick the ball into his own goal and holy shit bud, it be giggles all around because digital, haha, Rooney looks like a twat and it be time to deposit your giggles and your brains (at the door) and come out with the fact that this guy is leaving, shit me a brick, he's leaving already. Australia ken. Smiles and giggles, cakes and shakes for now though.

When we speak of the modern man, the last man, we think of what came before us and will come after. It's not the Greeks it's the Chinese he's aefter! Every cunt has had his problems, but in the modern epoch, we have a new problem, a very dangerous problem quite frankly, both spiritually and economically and socially, but it is one that people would rather just brush underneath the carpet and just ignore it, something in vain to a really bad smell.

Entertainment. It is the mind killer. Bread and circuses. What used to be a swirling void that needs a good foundation in order to work well has been replaced by superficial, cheap, disgusting entertainment. And but so, it might sound ridiculous to say the following, but here goes, this is what happens at this little corner of the manosphere. One of modern man's biggest challenges is to fight, and overcome the petty distractions of entertainment. There is so much that is extraneous, pointless, ugly, but see, here is the thing, it bogs you down. Spiritually salubrious undertakings equate to suffering and effort. The complete opposite? Modern entertainment. The curiosity of climbing the highest mountains, the brainfuckery of trying to comprehend Kant's Critique of Pure Reason, the satisfaction and rewards one derives from this is siphoned though to video games, pornography and empty media. Your brain registers one part, the part of completion. When you jerk off to porn, you brain is still registering what is going on. When you complete a video game, the task, the drive to survive, thrive and conquer is satisfied. But the suffering that goes with it, the superman, does not exist. Thus, we are often left feeling empty and directionless and sad. 

To be someone that is worth shit, whether it is being an ubensmensch or to give yourself up to thy lord and God, one must not be dragged down by entertainment. I am guilty of this as anyone, but priorities must be realized. A player is rejected by many many women. A weightlifter goes through pain as he tries to make that final squat. To suffer is to conquer, to escape entertainment's ying, but not yang grasp puts, you ahead of many a cunt.

You eat paleo, not junkfood or soda or any of that processed garbage. You read tough philosophical texts and you challenge your ego, you realize you aint the fucken precocious brainbox you once were, rather than the man booker prize drivel that makes you feel good about yourself cause you're not a racist cunt. Go on then, read Margaret Atwood you twat. See, only people who read the NYbetaTimes read that shite, so you must be hot stuff. You do a STEM subject and you plough through the maths while every other cunt is out drinking. You don't settle for a mediocre lassie. You go for the hottest one in the room and game her like a fucking Bryon. This is what entertainment is stopping you from doing. And the internet is the same way. Never in human history have we been capable of so much, yet at the same time at such a high risk of just getting lost in the little details. Like, dude, so and so was one inch off in his deadlift yet he's deadlifting 600 pounds! Dude! DUDE!

Many people preach, but don't practice. I'm not one of these people, soon. I will practice. Entertainment verses Franco. See it be trues and said here: I will fucken win ken, sure as the pretty girl is pretty and the world is just a nice big ride. Just a ride ken. Just a ride.

Tuesday, 19 March 2013

You Fucking People Make Me Sick

So it be a damp enough day in de local boozer with the telly on and nigh on every cunt is that little bit langers. It's a family gathering of sorts. Just a couple of pints and whatnot. So yeah, everybody is chatting away about this and that and ruggers and then, quick as a flash, the Cyprus thing comes up on the news. First I've heard of it. So I put my whiskey down. I edge towards the box and listen in to get the jist of what is going on. Turns out there is a fucking "tax" on deposits. I'm shocked, clearly. Clearly, these German cunts aint all sunshine and gravy en aw. So, amidst the fact that the EU did something more reminiscent of Soviet fucking Russia just there, the fact that Putin and friends are bleedin fuming away because Cyprus is a dirty moolah Russian oligarch sex party, and the simple, brutal point that if this is happening in Cyprus, it can happen here, I look around and try to get a reaction. Not a damn thing. Barely a whimper. Like I be saying, langers, just langers like. Lads and laddies get back to it thereafter, and suddenly I'm pounding back shots like no one's business.

Later on, they have a feature on your one, eh, whats her name? The good looking lassie who is hitting the wall and married to Prince William of Beta? Yeah, well she got her heel stuck in an iron grate in this St Patrick's Day presentation thing, and there was this big curfuffle and it was all amusing and shit. Every fiend in the pub got a good laugh out of it and the coldness set in. You fucking cunts. You blatantly ignore, the fact that a dubious organization went into another FUCKING COUNTRY'S SET OF BANKS, and skimmed the cream off of the top. Then some lassie gets her stiletto caught up and it is epic lozzlzlzlzlzlzlzlzlols for the whole family. Seeya later ye daft gobshites! All you sniveling lefties are more concerned with a bunch of lassies winning the grand slam. Bread and circuses? Corn and porn ken, corn and porn.

I look around. It's nine o clock and this middle aged beure starts dancing, shaking her shaggy butt to Owner of a Lonely Heart. She's pissed, and her children are averting their gaze big fucken style. I've been the right old barking up the wrong tree fella when it comes to saying that a lot of Irish people deserve what they got post housing bubble, and no no fucken know. Fuck you. You deserved it. And you know why you deserved it? You deserved it because when I was in a pub two days ago, it was more fucken important to watch some manjawed floozie embarrass herself and her children, and The Voice, the fucken VOICE, an Irish singalong competition with some Chernobly faced slapper, is more important than deposits being seized, people's fucken money being stolen. But we must sees whod be fucking winning on the telly, roysh? Fuck me. Because this is huge fucking shit, huuuuuge fucken shite, life affirming lets come together right now in sweet harmony level we'd be chatting about. This is fuckin life ken. Choose life ken. It's so hard to comprehend, to look up a fucking book for five fucking minutes and read the notes yourself, therefore reaching a logical conclusion. Jesus. It's so hard, wah wah de fucken wah. Derpidy derpa derp. Yous all moan, and whinge and fucking piss around like no one's business. About how the government should do this and Enda Kenny should do that and it is sad too see. But hehe, it's really fucking funny too. So then some afterspecials party comes in. We leave. Me mam makes an interesting quip about the decline of culture. It's hilarious. There is no culture. Reallys. How, utterly,fucking sad is it is that so called high end Irish culture is reading novels from privileged fucking faggots like Emma D and Colm Toibin who had their nice little cushy MA in English and stayed in their little D4 tower while writing their shitty fucken lesbian fiction and it's courageous, so fucking courageous. Award! Award! Photo Photo! Aww. The privileged are killing me ken. You're putting my fucking cousin on medication, a soon to be co dependent mess, because he got in a fight in school? There's a reason that fucking Fight Club is the most important movie of the past 50 years ken. Go on, try and figure it out. It's fucking extreme value theory and covariance matrices multiplied by set theory. It's a gargantuan mindfuck. That one in particular is evil and in particular gets to me. Pure evil. And all you phenomenology lads "truth is relative" blah blah blah. No, fuck you. Evil is wretched. It exists, as clear as fucking day. It is the sad, the good gone awry, the fifty year old feminist, the videogame playing virgin. That, is evil.

This country has been infected. It's been infected with the same nonsense that seem to be pirulating everywhere else. So, here is what I'm going to do. I'm going to get myself a nice comfy chair. I'm going to buy some cigars and drag some lassie back here. I'm going to watch all of you motherfuckers run the lemmings off of this cliff, and I'm in contact with all sorts. Ivory tower D4 cunts, you will formicate left right and centre ken, uhhh, we didn't see this happen duhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, and it will be the funniest shit ever as Ireland gets cleared for a intergalactic motorway. This will be so much fun.

I told yous. STEM nerds having a tough time with women, I sent you fucking links to Roissy and the Roosh V forum and you talked shit behind my fucking back in order to get off with a lassie. You were fat and you asked for help and I sent you links to Chaos and Pain, Marks Daily Apple and loaned you a copy of Good Calories Baad Calories. And you still had the gall to moan and whinge and whine. Oh yeahhh man, Obama, a lazy entitled shit who never worked a day in his life, bread and circuses bread and circuses, free market, nah it's all fucking nonsense. Vote him in. All this complain about the church holdin kids during de 70s and then you decide to vote in a children's referendum that puts them as guineas to the state. My grandfather broke his fucking back burying dead bodies, in the hope his family, his lassie, his kids, would be worth something. And what the fuck do we have now? This degenerate culture where everything is a fucking shamrock atop of a house of cards. My family is big, really big. Feminism, you see the antagonism everywhere. When people you know are the embodiment of fucking death, then it gets a great deal darker. The cousin of yours who is gettin married to a woman eight years his senior? Everyone says it's all gravy. But real life and statistics and down syndrome and miscarriages beg to differ. But they love each other. Newspeak. Marriage is not marriage.

You all fucking deserve what you get. You, me, we are not part of it. We are Ralph and it be getting to Lord of the Flies shit. I am going to tear my way through wine lassie and song like the last days of Rome and I am going to speak honestly, bluntly from now on. I hate lying. Not the asperery fucktard anymore, but if you ask me about race, and women, and economics, I'm going to be blunt with you. You'll laugh when I tell you about ideological subversion, about pantheism and Christianity not being bullshit, about fat people, about the fact that Colm Toibin cannot write for turkey.

Last one left up, turn the light off.

Friday, 15 March 2013

The Road to Sigma

Change. Yous can feel it blowing in the wind. Awkward, insufferable silences elongated by the shattering of social etiquette into a quadrillion different pieces. A geeknerddorkathonic shite might still be that and more at heart, but there is more to that than this. When you start looking and learning game at the start of it all, you'd be wise to think of it as sort of two different components. One, is your default personality, your intrinsic soul. The other part is the dibber dabber instigator who rattles and chides a cunt into stepping up to the plate, big fucken style. When you have that beer shield up to code red, the voice tells you to "relax, be Sean Conno, everything will be alright ken".When your body language is abysmal, your ego is off by itself, telling yous to straighten up and fly right or fuck off right back to Superbad Central. When that girl is asking you to buy her a drink, the little man is going in your head "stop!", which results in you replying with something like "doos ah look like an atm to you?" shit eating grin and all. This is what is meant by fake it till you make it. Soon you internalize it to such an extent, ultimately you don't know where I end and you begin. It is all the same in the end. Capitalize capricious cunts!

That is not to say I'm this social paladin. I'm still naturally incompetent, introverted, but in the land of the blind and bland, the one eyed man is king of kind.
If yous have ever been a nerd/big bang type, you'll come across lassies, certain kinds, what I like to call Queen Bees, and unfortunately, these cunts don't really look like de Penny we all know and love, even if they serve the same function. Usually they are just troll faced bitches who do the whole nerd thing because they're too ugly to get any attention, eye fucking from normalish lads. But, what better way to compensate than act like a tramp, flirting with the kind of lads which are going to tell her how wonderful and how amazing and how fucking lovely she be. These are not the TT introverted lassies with big eyes and are bigger Dr Who fans btw and legitimately like the company. These are simply sluts born in an uggo suit and trapped, having no mouth yet having to scream. I could post pictures of the tail you'd find at a nerdy drinkathon, but that would be naff. Oh, wait, I think I will since this lassie is the feminist atheistkult type who had a go at Forney/Roosh some time back. This one comes from heartiste's twitter:
This is the ninth underworld of the boner.

So take the cunt on the right. What if he was to get his arse into the gym and shave his head? What if he was to toss a few weights around? The question, the answer, hook bat and line equates to comparative fucken alpha.

Lately, a few of the people in the aul social circle have been acting more passively aggressively towards me. This post certainly resonated with me. I talk to a so called mate about deadlifting in the gym and I get a snide, not jokingly Arnold S meathead comment. A guy who likes toos tell every cunt under the sun that he is a virgin, asking everyone for help, fuck it, I send him a link to some Roissy posts to shut him the hell up and the scumbag starts telling people I'm a PUA slimeball. Fuckin male shit tests, if there ever were such a creation. That's how fucking faggy men have gotten. Lispy, beady eyed motherfuckers who mutter underneath their breath. I try and brush this off, ignore it but it fails to work. For the days you could duel with a lad...ahh. It builds to a fucking head, prick the balloon and BANG burst over, in a real, nasty, bitter temper. Ultimately, I pissed off the Queen Bee. Out for a cigarette to do with this stupid fucking engagement thing and she trots out all well oiled up en aw. The narcissist needs her ego replenished.

"You never smile Francis. Why don't you smile like?" she says.


"I have nothing to smile about."


"I said, I have nothing to smile about."

"Too good for me then?"


"You get a C- for effort"

"The fuck does that mean? Seriously, you like, have a problem with me? You think you're so fuckin smart and you're spreading this slezebag, misogynistic crap, to like, all your friends? What sort of fucking friend does this to others?"

"It means, ah fuck it. You know what it means? You're an ugly fucken cunt, both inside and out. You talk shite, all the fucking time. You manipulate all these guys, who are essentially good and all, just to fill that fucken hole inside of ye. Ye fucking slut. Face like Mary Harney."

She marched back inside, white faced, looking to drag me out to the wrath of the nerds. Folks, I didn't stick around, fuck that shite. The depressing thing was that, just in a flash, a group of people I used to hang around with just evaporated, just like that. Ambivalent feelings to all of this.You are the average of your closest five friends. It's lonely, but these people, the bad diet, the nice house and complementary car, the divorce, the plasma telly, the My Little Pony watching, the mathematical dickwaving, the wow account, the relishing of the death of God, the whole fucking thing. Fuck me, maybes I'm a cunt, but this shit drives a cunt up the wall. How can the lad und lassie be so petty?

There's a few things I'm going to add, as a caveat. First, I have the basic concepts of game internalized. I'm not going to become any better by reading manosphere blogs on the subject, and once you read the basic stuff neither are you. At one stage, the law of diminishing marginal returns sets in and yer fucked wholeheartedly. So, I'm going to stop. Practice, practice practice. Jump into it at the deep end ken. I'm also tired of reading a lot of the doom and gloom porn of the manosphere, kind of what like yousouwould advocates in this fucking great post of his. Take it easy. Chill the fuck out ken. I've a couple of projects lined up, and am going to launch into them in the next while. 

Second, as you try and get on this road to sigmadom, people are going to hate you and the passive aggressive claptrap is not going to lie dormant forever. Fat lassies, gamma males of the McRapey variety. Yous better be prepared for it, because it is going to be slow, slippery and downright ugly. Fight your way up, break on through, and you'll be blessed in the eyes of God and de divinity, balking in the aura of the great morning sun. Trust me, it will be more than worth it.

Thursday, 14 March 2013

Cowboys in the Cathedral

So it looks like the Irish banks have managed to clean up their balance sheets, just like I predicted back way back when, we're going to have more repossessions:

There are currently:

*94,488 residential mortgages and 27,018 buy-to-let mortgages in arrears of more than 90 days;

*23,523 residential mortgages, with a collective value of €4.8bn, more than 720 days in arrears;

*51,352 residential mortgages in arrears of more than 360 days.

Financial regulator Matthew Elderfield said he expects repossessions to “rise significantly”, which is at odds with what the Government has been saying.
Seriously, you fucking cunts make me sick. Ask yourself, why are they going about this sad, sorry state of affairs now after all this time? The answer, balance sheets, plus mortgage arrears have declined in the last quarter or so, so dem cunts can put their pedal to the metal and drive off intos the sunset. In other words, banks can cut their losses and are safe to do so, while booting people onto the road. But of course, the whole thing is a lie. Media hawks, RTE, incompetent journalists spinning the story beautifully. Is it any wonder that the media ignored people like Sugarman and Kelly?

The leaders of this country, Enda Kenny and his fat fuckin wife, Luke Ming Flannigan and this penalty points fiasco, and the nerdy, pasty faced poppin fresh Labor guy Eamon Gilmore leading the charge. Literally the man with the most punchable face in Ireland. They are nothing but reflections of each other though a blurred mirror. They are Cathedral boys, pure and simple. People like to throw remarks at each other, back and forth and onwards and upwards it all goes, old civil war ties (in the likes of the older generations) are brought up. But to quote Shakespeare, all of it is "told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing." We are under the grasp of the EUSSR and their ain't a damn thing we can do about it.

What are Cathedral boys, you might ask?

They are the ones who end up in ruggers colleges. They are the ones isolated from real Irish peoples. They are the ones raised on nefarious values and dubious ideals. They are the ones with the sheer gall, the arrogance, to think they know what is good for yous. They know fucking shit about shit. They can afford to dine out on gender theory 101 and neoclassical nonsense and other cowardly, weak toilet.

They're all UCD boys, mostly. They do Law or something useless like Politics. They get involved in the student's union and have a right aul larf doing so. They campaign, oh yes, they campaign out their arses. Like I said before, don't expect the next generation of Cathedral boys to be able to do anything with their hands or with their feet. Nah. The next generation of Cathedral boys sit around and organize LGBT awareness days. They tell guys to dress up like women, to walk in "her shoes". They argue with alacrity, (oh yes!), with passion, for gay marriage,  because it super duper is important. We've declined. An elite needs to be strong, powerful. Go to St Andrews Lane meanwhile, and smile ye daft cunt!

These are the kind of fucking cunts who are jumping in the air over ten year Irish bonds being issued. But then again, maybe yous should let them. Things are not going to get better anytime soon. We've lost it. We are letting tyranny infect us, weaken us. People kicked out on the roads. The good little rightwing hated child of God must work towards destroying the cathedral. Or just enjoying the decline with a drink in one hand and a slut in the other.

Wednesday, 13 March 2013

The Great Porn Debacle

Folks, I fell off the wagon, and for that I apologize profusely. Shit day and even shittier night and a fucken trainwreck of a week, cheeky cockblocker cunt of a lassie, copious quantities of drink was involved, blah blah blah and then, in a state of pure inebriation, gambrious Franco finds himself in front of a computer looking at some lesbian milf porn. After literally months and months of being off the stuff, I fucken blew it quicker than Stifller's mom. Fuck, yous hate yerself for it, you know what I mean? Porn is vile, ugly, all sound and no fury. When you've been off the stuff like myself for such a long period of time and proceed to take another hit, it makes one recreant, moody, depressed, antsy. The morning after felt like getting bitched smacked around by Chris Brown. Cue more falling off the bandwagon, depression, shaking hands and cheap Insomnia coffee, and just, a general kind of offness, erratic, shapeshifting aura exacerbated by vast quantities of Dutch.

It's vile. Fucking vile shite. Less dopamine receptors. Cue depression, anhedonia, lack of spark en drive. Maybe your brain can take the hits, but mine certainly cannot. That doesn't change the fact that spanking it to lesbian fart porn might actually be one of the biggest game changers of aw. You probably heard of all of this EU trying to ban porn because it hurts women or some shite like that, and you are probably aware of the fact, that the people who are advocating this legislation are literally the dregs of society, disgusting, pathetic excuses of women who would fail to give a wee stick insect a woody. Fuck sake, monsters they is. Female Grendals. Them EUSSR Cathedral blowjob giving cunts never had my respect, and judgybitch already did a good job at slamming them for being just ugly twats, both inside and outside. Big fucking maw on dese feminist shebeasts.

My point is, is that I very, very much doubt it protects women. On the contrary, the dichotomy of porn and corn actually makes de wee lassie safe from the malevolent, beastly laddo who wants to make all of yous saddo. Statistics taken from Pinker's new book on violence:


Rapes have collapsed in the past twenty years. Now, it is ridiculous to assume that there was a big, fucking gargantuan change in men and women that is genetically based in such a short period of time. So, there must be some environmental shite going on here.

Combine this with ubiquitous pornography, and ok, I'm making a plethora of dubious assumptions here, which would get me kicked out of Statistics OLS 101 and shit, but overall, we've lot lower rapes. In other words, obesity+pornography equates to less rapes. Women are safer amongst effeminates Hugo Strap Yerself Up types with a non existent sex drive.

So, lets bang the old noggins together. Let's say you are a youngun. You've been screwed out of it because people lied to you, because the boomers are giant cuntards, and you're a skinny fat nice guy saddo and so forth. Society is degenerating towards a sort of structured state of nature where hypergamy rules supreme, only you're not acting like the iconoclastic smash shit up cunt cause, you've got porn to satiate your urges and carjacking a sports car in Grand Theft Auto IV gives your life some little shitty bit of meaning, and you're fine. Cue herbivore men and the egregious consequences for society.

Because here's the thing, and it be a fucken humdinger. Just like the black ghetto is the canary in the goldmine for the broken up nuclear family, Japan and herbivore men is the canary in the goldmine for pornography and Infinite Jest style entertainment. You want to ban porn, you will end up with more rapes, simple as the nose on your face ken. And with youth unemployment as high as it is right now....hmm, yous be playing with fire, ye daft naupy group of cunts. Yet, you're risking a situation where society is full of effeminate, metrosexual shrills, men who are not men and are subject toos be taken over by waves upon waves of crab people. So what will be your tradeoff ken? Will you use pornography to create a world of a small group of alphas with a sexual oligopoly and a mishmash of girly, invertebrate men, cue declining economic surplus and falling birthrates? Or, in today's epoch where we have porn and corn instead of bread and circuses, will you help, instigate a wee bit of madness?

Let meself get my big bag of popcorn and sit back on my arse. Shit's gonna be fun ken!