“Your membrane will be soft and smooth and your heart will be mine…”

 

 

Uh oh.

It’s that time of year again.

When the most horrific aspects of the human psyche are laid bare.

Thus I present:

 

DAWN OF THE MANOSPHERE!!!

 

That’s right, women:

Feminists and non-feminists, alike, are now in the gravest of danger!

(We hate ALL women, after all!)

 

We men have begun crawling forth from the deepest, most abysmal parts of teh interwebs (and our mothers’ basements) to come and get you!

 

Maybe we’ll R@PE you with our laughably tiny micropenises [micropeni?].

Maybe we’ll butcher you like the twisted serial killers we are beneath all that “nice guy” bullshit you’ve long-since learned to unmask.

What with your keen observational skills gleaned from watching “reality TV” and staring at your iPhone screen and all.

 

 

But you’ll never see us!

You’ll only hear our labored breathing, since the only exercise we get is from playing World of Warcraft!

(Or perhaps the occasional LARP.)

(Or Final Fantasy. But not Final Fantasy 11; that sucked.)

You’ll only smell our fetid stench from our terrible lack of hygiene!

And you’ll only know we’re there by the tell-tale trail of Cheeto™/Dorito™ dust left in our wide – VERY wide – wake!

 

 

So, tremble!

Tremble to your strong, independent core as if you’d read a post by Matt Forney!

Yes, we are THAT terrifying!

 

BEEEEEWWWWWWAAAAAAARRRRRREEEEEE!!!!!

 

 

Ω

“We lived through another day, it’s a good excuse to celebrate…”

A Catholic reader asks:

“So, how did it all happen for you?”

It’s a very long story so I’ll try to give you what I believe are the most important parts of it.

Though I am very reluctant to use such terms, I am what would be called a “natural Alpha”.

I’m bright, confident, witty and extremely charismatic.

I got what my father calls “the gift of gab” from my mother.

And I got my olde school, terse masculinity from my father.

However, neither of my parents were good at being parents.

My father was a handsome man from a large, poor and dysfunctional family.

My mother was an extremely beautiful woman from a small, poor and dysfunctional family.

Why do I tell you all of this?

So that the rest of my tale makes sense.

See, getting the attention of women was never difficult for me.

As I said, I was a “natural”.

However, once I got said attention, I would revert to all the nonsense with which men these days are inculcated.

Which, as we know, destroyed everything.

Great opening.

Could never close.

Talk about maddening.

Now, add into that mixture parents that were, at their best, disinterested and at their worst, constantly depressed and/or shaming for any falter on my part.

This, of course, caused me to doubt only myself.

Never the advice or information I was given.

[There was no internet to which to turn, in those days.]

Which caused me to be the perfect bait for Borderline Personality Disordered women.

A relationship with one of those (for nine years) kept me deep and alone in self-doubt and misery.

Thankfully, she ended up finding someone even more suited to her brand of evil than I.

At the time, I was shattered but I thank God almost every day that she left.

With her gone, along with having a lucrative but very difficult gov’t job (yes, they do exist), I managed to find my footing rather quickly.

I started realizing, on some level, that my parents’ advice was worse than useless.

It was, in fact, counterproductive.

It was then I attracted a 20 yr old beauty (who literally stopped traffic).

I’d shed enough of the old ways to get her and keep her-

For 18 months.

But then I lost my job (details of my dismissal are posted on this blog).

Hypergamy, being what it is, caused me to lose her.

Having lost both her and my career, my life, worldview and pretty much everything around me was razed.

So I embarked on an extended suicide attempt by drinking, smoking and writing.

The good that came out of this was, having given up on everything –

I also gave up on the bad advice.

Blogging had me online (I’ve been doing it since 2004) often so I ended up deciding:

Before I die, let’s solve this fucking mystery as to how I got here.

(I am a detective, to my soul.)

This caused me to read ‘No More Mr. Nice Guy’ by Dr. Robert Glover.

Most important thing I’d ever read in my life.

Now understanding what had me running in circles, all those years, I started to rise from the ashes.

This caused an even hotter girl (think young Katherine Heigel) to fall for me.

We did not work out (too different), but we remain friends as she is a very sweet girl once you get past the “bitch shields” women growing up with her looks develop.

Needless to say, that gave me the confidence to continue.

Not to mention, she’d seen Mystery (the PUA) on TV and thought I’d think he was interesting.

It was a short jump from him to the ‘sphere.

That is, as you ask, “how it all happened”.

“When/does it get better?”

It never gets better.

Only you get better.

You come to realize that, at the end, there will only be two things:

You and God.

You start to realize, for better or worse, everyone and everything can be replaced.

You’ll meet another woman that will make you wonder why you thought so highly of the others.

You learn it’s rarely the hand you are dealt that is the problem; it’s how you play the cards.

Most importantly, you’ll learn that men like us find more satisfaction in our mission than anything else, anyway.

As difficult aggravating and exhausting as it may be.

Men live for their work; women live for their men.

“Will I ever be able to put her out of mind?”

Yes.

Sure, she’ll pop into your head, on occasion, and it will be bittersweet.

But you’ll know God has other things for you.

Maybe other women.

Maybe not.

You don’t get too choose.

(You certainly get to try, of course.)

But, at the end of the day:

“The steps of a righteous man are ordered of the Lord.

And he delighteth in them.”

You will find delight.

I’ve no doubt.

All the best to you.

Truly.

Semper Intenti,

– A♠

Ω

 

 

“What a wicked thing to say… (This world is only gonna break your heart.)”

↓

 

 

 

Anonymous writes:

“I have a friend. He has found that he loses his attraction for a girl he is chasing the moment that she reciprocates and seems to return his affections. Equally, he is turned off even more by any girl who actively seems to find  him attractive without him having made any efforts with her. He can objectively identify that this is not a healthy mindset but cannot understand why his brain works that way.

My thoughts, which I have told him, are that perhaps his underlying self-image is such that he figures any girl that is attracted to him must have something wrong with her. He hadn’t considered that before and I’ve asked that he try and find the honest answer to that question, since it may require some real introspection.

My question to you is two-fold:

Do you agree with my assessment(and if not, what would yours be?”

 

I do agree with your assessment, wholeheartedly.

My questions in return are:

1} Does he have a close relationship with his mother? Does he seek out her thoughts/opinions, etc with frequency? My instincts lead me to suspect he was weaned on the idea that he isn’t really good enough for anyone [subconsciously], thus, he “won’t belong to a club that would have him as a member”.

2} Did people feel she “spoiled him” growing up? Really, spoiling is – all too often – a means of control rather than genuine affection.

3} Does he possess a fair amount of confidence and competence around men? Such that it almost seems bizarre that he’d have troubles finding/getting/keeping a woman? My thought is he has a solid amount of natural ability yet his upbringing causes him to be self-contradictory in his actions regarding women.

 

“What is the remedy? (A more important, and infinitely more difficult question)”

Honestly?

Start dating women he doesn’t like.

The ‘sphere never mentions the unmentionable:

That we (men and women, both) recreate our relationship with our parents in all our romantic relationships.

This never gets mentioned because it’s terrifying, deep, hard work to repair and, most of all:

A depth of slumber from which few if any are ready to wake.

Of course, when I say “women he doesn’t like” I mean for the reasons you’ve given me. [They’re good to him; attracted to him]

It will take a while, but he’ll start to change past bad patterns and replace them with new, healthy ones.

This will occur with more than just women, though it will be difficult to spot as it will occur over time.

I do hope you found this useful.

All my best to you and your friend,

– A♠

 

 

 

 

Ω

“So much for all your high-brow, Marxist ways…”

↓

 

 

 

 

 

The more educated the women of a society are:

 

The lower the birth rates.

 

After all, they are the more pragmatic gender.

 

 

 

See, the problem with educating women isn’t making them smarter—

 

It’s making them more rational.

 

And once you make them more rational—

 

They’ll realize what a horror show the continuance of life Truly is.

 

Thus, they’ll hit the brakes.

 

And your people will die out.

 

 

 

 

Ω

“Tear into my heart; Make me do it again…”

 

 

Animated .gif images creep me the fuck out.

I watch them keep running through the same action.

Over and over and over again.

 

 

And every time I do, I imagine some blighted wasteland, where nothing but rubble – and a monitor playing the image  – exist.

No one watching.

Just the pointless action, devoid of meaning – since it’s devoid of observers – cycling endlessly.

It makes me think of hypergamy, too.

 

 

It makes me think of being shot-down because I drive a shitty car.

Only to see the same woman take the bus home.

It makes me think of the woman that rebuffs me for being too ‘intense’.

Only to learn she went home and read about a sadistic billionaire brutalizing a willing. young heroine.

It makes me think of being ‘written off’ because I give useful, honest advice.

Only to see her bathe in the warmth of platitudes and false – yet comforting – hope.

 

 

Click ‘Like’.

Take a photo of this meal to preserve its epicurian glory.

Hold the Starbucks cup so the logo can be seen.

Same with your iPhone.

Lust after sparkling vampires because no man is strong enough to lift a Buick.

Pine for the fictional Scotsman with washboard abs and a noble title.

Keep climbing the status ladder-

Until you find there’s nothing at the top but emptiness.

 

 

See, you’ve reached Mr. Tyrell’s goal:

“More human than human”.

And, like the motto says:

There are no people there.

 

 

Just an image of Orson Welles.

Applauding your accomplishment.

Endlessly.

http://gifb.in/qNsV

Ω

“The kitchen counter is a bad reminder of a better time…”

I’m here to make a confession.

Rest assured, this is no joke.

And it is quite difficult for me share it.

 

 

My confession is this:

I am afraid of “strong, confident, independent women™”.

So, to many blanket accusers out there, you are/were correct.

Although, as so often is the case:

For the wrong reasons.

 

 

See, the one woman I came close to marrying was gorgeous, smart, indepedent and very confident.

For a year and a half, we meshed well.

But then I lost my lucrative job.

So she took all her great qualities:

And found someone “better” than I.

 

 

Now, reason I dredge up this part of my personal past is that it proved my fears to be well founded.

See, the more a woman has those qualities, the harder a man has to work to be better than her.

Because she always wants a mate “better” than her.

It’s not that a man “isn’t good enough”.

It’s that a man is not “better”.

 

 

There was a court case regarding the advertising trade, many, many years ago, that stated “best is equal; better is best” when it came to slogans and jargon.

How correct, and how deeply so, the judge that proclaimed that was.

And remains.

 

 

Being of Portuguese decent, I’m unafraid of hard work.

“Work is like cocaine to those people” – Seth MacFarlane

Yet, I am but a man.

I stumble.

I fail.

I cannot always operate at 100%.

 

 

So, what does all this have to do with my fear of “strong, independent women™”?

Well, I’m afraid I’ll get sick.

Or lose the little I have left.

Or start to fall into depression again.

Which will, very likely, cause me to lose what I treasure.

A pretty face to improve my view.

A melodious voice to bring music to my day.

A warm smile and compassionate laugh to lighten my burdens.

A soft body to let me experience the deepest, most magickal, connection that can be had with another human being.

A tender heart to counter the harshness of the world.

 

 

See, the paradox is this:

I fear those “strong, independent women™” because they are part of the more pragmatic gender.

While I am part of the more romantic gender.

And I know, should things fall apart and my misfortune continue its lifelong trend for me:

I’ll be evicted from her heart and memory—

Long before she will be from mine.

 

 

Ω

“Close the curtains and turn out the lights…”

↓

 

 

 

 

 

My review of Fritz Lang’s film ‘M’.

 

1} For a film that’s nigh on 80 years old, it’s amazing how well it withstands the test of time. The camera-work, the acting, the dialogue rarely come cross as dated or antiquated.

2} Peter Lorre is absolutely brilliant in the role of the killer. Especially when one considers the fact that he was a comedic actor before this performance. He embodies flawlessly and timelessly every facet the character he portrays should possess. He is (at appropriate moments) pitiable, tormented, terrifying, sympathetic, reprehensible and, most importantly/frighteningly – human.

3} Friedrich Gnass as Franz, the burglar, is perfect as well. Demonstrating the eternal quality in us all, at some point in our lives, that claims “I may be a scumbag – but I’m not THAT much of a scumbag” .

4} The supporting cast is utilized to its utmost ability. The proof by action that “the more things change the more they stay the same” permeates the film. How quickly, once children are involved, everyone rightly or – more often – wrongly finds common ground.

5} The use of shadow is so adept that one may need to rewind on occasion to truly grasp exactly what, and just how powerfully, the darkness implies.

6} The use of Grieg’s “In The Hall of The Mountain King” as a leitmotif is genius. Especially when one is familiar with its history, topic and musical composition.

7} The question it poses late in the film “Is one more or – in fact – less evil if one cannot truly control one’s behavior?” This is made all the more effective when one considers that self-admitted criminals are acting as judge, jury and executioner for another criminal. The implication of human hypocrisy should not be overlooked.

8} The fact that there is not a single drop of blood shown in a film about a child-murderer and other torturers give some scenes even more impact. The audience is left to fill in the gory details which, to me, make certain dramatic points all the more horrific.

9} An easily overlooked facet of the film is another observation it makes. That observation being “How much wickedness do we, as a society, find acceptable in daily life? Where do we or where should we draw the line?”

10} One of the film’s best moments is nothing more than Peter Lorre sitting in a café. Watch him VERY carefully as it reveals so very much. The scene, while extremely simple on the surface, couldn’t possibly be cut without ruining the film.

I was told that this is among the best 100 motion pictures of all time.

As far as I’m concerned:

It should be at the top.

 

 

 

Ω

“Do your demons – do they ever let you go?”

 

While speaking with Wald from the blog ‘Scarred Tissue’, I was reminded of an all too common belief in the ‘sphere.

That belief being:

Men and women are afraid of failure with the opposite sex.

 

 

Now, I certainly believe there is some Truth to that idea.

But it’s right for the wrong reasons.

 

 

See, what gets lost in the discussion is that many – if not most – fear success more than they do failure.

Sound crazy?

Wald thought that, too.

But here’s the thing:

We call it Game [regardless of who plays it] for a reason.

There are players.

Rules.

And, most importantly, stakes.

 

 

Now, no one likes to end up on the wrong side of victory.

So the “fear of rejection” is a significant reality.

However, the more one wins-

The more one has to lose.

 

 

Sure, plenty of guys hide in video games and such to avoid initial rejections.

But I’d wager many more hide to avoid being divorced, forced into penury, emotional devastation and subsequent questioning of one’s entire outlook.

See, it’s fear of falling from on high.

Rather than tripping on a pavement stone.

 

Why do you think so many women love ’50 Shades of Gray’ and/or date low-lifes?

Because, that way, they won’t have to face the possibilty that they can’t live up to a certain standard.

Success is not a static position.

It requires maintainance.

And a lot of it.

 

Acrophobia is perfectly rational, once one realizes:

Even angels have fallen.

 

 

“There is no greater sorrow Than to be mindful of the happy time In misery.”

– Dante Alighieri, The Divine Comedy

 

 

 

Ω

“I’m gonna take it southbound…”

↓

 

 

 

 

 

 

He’s one of my best and closest friends.

I call him the “Ace of Diamonds”.

Because the pressures of life placed on him have been extreme, to say the least.

Thus, have hardened him to a degree I’ve rarely seen.

Needless to say, his reaction came as a bit of a shock.

 

 

We hadn’t seen one another in quite some time.

So, when we caught up at the bar, the conversation was wide and deep.

At one point, I mention that I know I can be acerbic.

Tough to deal with.

Not to mention overbearing.

But I’d never hurt a friend as loyal and good as he.

 

It was then his eyes got misty.

He said:

“Oh, I know guilt is something that doesn’t come easy to you anymore.

So don’t think I don’t appreciate you saying that.

And certainly don’t get the impression I don’t notice.”

 

See, having a family that took credit for all my successes –

Yet left me with any blame that should surface –

Taught me to disregard criticism.

 

Having a family that felt everything I did was wrong or misguided –

Taught me to think more than twice about the concept of “shame”.

 

See, “tough love” only works when there’s something to contrast it.

Otherwise, it’s just being an asshole.

 

Now, as far as guilt goes:

My mother’s womb gave me life.

Only to murder her, years later.

And ain’t nothin’ gonna top that.

 

 

Ω

“I’m what Cain was to Able…”

 

In an 1896 article Wyatt Earp said that ‘Doc was a dentist, not a lawman or an assassin, whom necessity had made a gambler; a gentleman whom disease had made a frontier vagabond; a philosopher whom life had made a caustic wit; a long lean, ash-blond fellow nearly dead with consumption, and at the same time the most skillful gambler and the nerviest, speediest, deadliest man with a six-gun that I ever knew.’

 

As long as I can remember, my hero has been Doc Holliday.

Truth be told, if I could go back in time, my handle would have been that.

But, at the time, I felt it too presumptuous, so I chose Ace of Spades.

Close enough.

 

Which brings me to my point:

I won’t be going to meet folks in Vegas.

 

This is because I gambled [as is my nature] and lost.

Big.

Granted, the deck was stacked against me.

But I’m an outlaw.

Born and bred.

 

If this kills what [little] cred I have in the ‘sphere:

I accept it.

Depression [disease] induced or not:

My choices are mine.

And I own them.

 

However, I will point out:

I’ve never deceived anyone.

I’ve shared what I’ve learned to be True.

I’ve never asked for a dime.

I’ve made sure that all the mistakes I’ve made – and they are innumerable – have been analyzed so that others may benefit.

If nothing else:

I serve as an inapproachable bad example.

 

Why do I do such a thing?

Especially since I’ve said I could not care less about hit counts.

Or popularity.

Or notoriety.

 

The answer is easy:

I was born a deeply flawed sinner.

And this is my path to redemption.

 

I’m no better than you.

So learn from what I say.

And be better than I.

 

Say goodbye to me. Go grab that spirited actress and make her your own. Take that beauty from it, don’t look back. Live every second. Live right on to the end. Live Wyatt. Live for me. Wyatt, if you were ever my friend, if you ever had even the slightest of feelin’ for me, leave now. Leave now… Please.

 

 

Ω