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“I don’t have to look at you to see it in your eyes…”

Posted in Uncategorized on February 20, 2018 by A♠






Almost five years ago to the day, I gave one of my most controversial, misunderstood (innocently or willfully) and quoted (both sincerely and sarcastically) pieces of advice.


It was simply this:


► “When it comes to women: It’s best to put your worst foot forward.” ◄




Needless to say, the sentence itself was what ended up most tightly clutched. 


Many seemed to miss the brief yet comprehensive explanation beneath it:


Show them the rage/pain/turmoil within you poetically, incrementally, unashamedly and, most of all, unapologetically.


To make it even more plain here:


Be yourself. 


In the darker sense.


It’s not to suggest you engage in abusive, acerbic, anti-social behavior.


It’s to advise you to let others (women) know you have vulnerabilities, the capacity for righteous anger, and – in short – boundaries that you will show tooth and claw to defend.


This is important to do (to reasonable degrees) around most of the people in your life, regardless of their sex.


However, around women it’s exceedingly important.




Understand, women always look under the surface, regardless whether the surface is good or bad.


They are always reading subtext.


Subtext is their default language; overt exchange is not.


It’s a major reason why males find females so aggravating/frustrating.




Such things are difficult for men to grasp because men, on the whole, do not navigate a web of lies.


Women do.


Men will lie for sex; women will lie to sabotage, undermine and outright destroy one another in competition (since they lack the capacity to do so physically).


Thus, subtext as primary communication is a feature, not a bug.


Hating women for such is akin to hating the dog for barking.


The communication method that served it best, the longest, has won out.


Accept it.


Now to tie it all together.




Remember, women are always on the lookout for danger (again, due to their weaker physicality)


The search to uncover lurking threats is constantly active.


Add that fact to the web of lies they must traverse, strand by strand – every day, and it’s a given that females will rarely (if ever) trust what is right in front of them for fear of hidden danger.


At this point, take a moment and recall your own observations




My guess is they add up to:


“Nice guys” are labeled “creepy” and avoided or joked about as being serial killers or some such nonsense.


While cads, thugs and deadbeats always seem to have a heart of gold that only women can see.


Thus, I say to you:


Put your worst foot forward—


So that the ladies eagerly, optimistically await the other shoe to drop.








“When the night has come and the land is dark…”

Posted in Uncategorized on February 14, 2018 by A♠







Training for my federal law enforcement career at FLETC in Brunswick, GA in 1998 was a mostly miserable experience.


I had no car, no television, no phone, no internet.


There were also 600 men for every woman (approximately).


I was literally fenced in behind chain link and barbed wire; I had a mini-swamp outside below my window forcing me to choose between suffocating heat or the stench of rotting vegetation.


However, those factors created a surprising outcome.




I ended up writing letters to my brother, father and a few friends.


I said things I never would have said, otherwise.


And I regret none of them.


In fact, I’m grateful I wrote ever last syllable.




Now, if you’ve been following my return to writing here over the past few weeks, you’ll have seen I’ve assigned homework. 


Furthermore, if you’ve taken my assignments seriously and done them, you may have noticed a trend they exhibit.


I assure you, there is a larger lesson and further goal in the distance.




Continuing my efforts, this week’s post is another step on that particular road.


However, this one requires some of the emotional strength you’ve been building.


To keep things brief, I’ll get right to it:


Write a letter (or email) to someone (a non-sexual/non-romantic friend/ally/acquaintance) letting them know how much you appreciate them.


Shoot for respectful gratitude.


Neither gush or grovel.


But don’t qualify things, either.


Just show appreciation, respect and humility.




This exercise serves a few purposes:


1} You’ll realize voicing your need for what another person brings to your life makes you neither weak (nor homosexual, depending on whom you contact).


2} You’ll get a clearer image of what you need out of life and from the people you meet along the way.


3} Lastly, you’ll discover just how much taking the time to say a few brief works can impact someone.


If, for some reason, you currently feel unable to do this, I sincerely ask you to try at some point in the future.








“You could be right, they might come for me at night – an angry mob with torches bright outside my door…”

Posted in Uncategorized on February 6, 2018 by A♠






I do a great deal of research at a local college library.


It suits me there because it stays open late (0200 closing, most nights).


Needless to say, I’ve become solid acquaintances (I don’t like throwing around the word “friends” lightly) with some of the employees. 




While chatting with one of the staff, I watched a female coworker of his celebrate her successful effort to manipulate/guilt him into buying her soda just prior to my arrival.


Like so many men, he had aresigned look as if this is just the way things are supposed to be.


Anyone that’s spent even a moderate amount of time reading/listening to me should accurately guess what happened next.




See, I lost my government career standing up for what’s right.


So I sure as Hell will put the impression of me held by a few night-shifters at risk for it.


I looked her in the eye as I addressed him:


I’d have told her the water fountain is over there. 


Of course, once her initial shock faded, she immediately complained about fountain water’s temperature and level of filtration.


I cut her off, tersely saying:


Then bring money next time. 


Or go thirsty.


It’s no one’s problem but yours.


I then turned my gaze on him, and quoted ► my first book ◄:



If you give your dog a treat every time it pisses on the carpet, then don’t be shocked by the cleaning bill.




This brings me to this week’s homework assignment.


Practice saying “no” and voicing displeasure.


Of course, use thoughtful discretion regarding any helpless children or employers (for reasons I believe to be obvious).


But, otherwise, stand firm.




Now, one thing to keep in mind is tone and attitude while doing such.


Don’t be petulant. 


Don’t whine.


Don’t be combative.


[If absolutely necessary, leave the area right after, until you get accustomed to disappointing/upsetting people.]


In short:


Simply “be yourself”.


And understand that act is often much more difficult than is commonly realized.







“I got the haircut they told me I should get; I can’t remember what they said to forget…”

Posted in Uncategorized on January 29, 2018 by A♠






One skill that I’ve yet to see discussed, let alone advocated to improve, for men is the art of submission.


I suppose that’s because so many men – hundreds of millions, in fact – are simply bludgeoned into it from birth onward.


Through schools.


Through media.


Through society.


Through many religions.


That reality is, no doubt, exactly why it’s either meekly accepted once forcefully foisted on men or vociferously resisted in a knee-jerk fashion.


The tragedy of it all is that submission, or “bending the knee”, is an extremely necessary skill to both acquire and master.




As I’ve stated previously, most men reading this are not “Alpha” and never will be.


This only makes the art more important to study and subsequently practice well.


Not only that, but even “Alphas” are wise to work on that facet of themselves, too.




Like it or not, man is a social animal.


“No man is an island”, as one put it so sagaciously.


Thus, learning one’s place in the hierarchy is imperative.


Even if one is at the top of such.


Since that position – if it is to maintained and respected – must be recognized as one of service, also. 


Even one so resoundingly quasi-deified as President Trump realizes he must bend the knee to his constituents and certain officials.


[As a side note, it’s an open secret that – in person – he’s an extremely kind and generous man.]




It’s true, nice guys do finish last.


But ► they also finish first ◄.


The top and bottom of any craft, trade, et al is often fraught with “nice guys”.


What differentiates them is the discretion with which they submit – when, where and to whom.


And most importantly:


How they submit.




What gets lost almost entirely when even broaching the subject is:


The free man that bends the knee chooses how, when and where he acts in accordance to his orders.


Even if threatened, he still has the choice to suffer the consequences.


Granted, the punishment may be horrendous, but it’s still his option.


[I’m no stranger to that particular fate, Truth be told.]


Imagine if just 10% of men refused to pay taxes.


Or simultaneously called out from work [Blue Flu, for police].


Or simply stopped obeying traffic laws.


Chaos; utter chaos.


That is real power.


No “Alpha” has that kind of power.


Unless, of course, he convinces the right men (and enough of them) to bend the knee.




So, as I’ve said before:


► Never follow; choose to be led ◄.


Bend the knee to men that warrant your loyalty and service.


Be sure they earn such.


Watch carefully what they do with the fruits of your labors.


Pay close attention to how they treat you as one of the community.


Take note – and keep track – of how they reward or punish you and when they do either.


Most of all, recall you can stand any time you wish.







“I know a word can be untrue and yet still move you…”

Posted in Uncategorized on January 23, 2018 by A♠








I’m not a big video game player.


But, I confess, I indulge on occasion.


It was at two of these infrequent instances that the women with me voiced the exact same concern, without knowing of one another’s opinion:


“I don’t like [Fable II] because there’s no way to make my [female] avatar attractive.”




Needless to say, my initial – very male – knee-jerk-yet-unvoiced reaction was:


Who cares? 


Your character has powerful weapons, lethal spells and devastating maneuvers.


 Fortunately for your humble host, I was wise enough to think before I spoke.


It was that sagacious silence that led me to a minor epiphany, of sorts.




They cared so deeply because, to females:


Appearance is power.


The idea is so rooted, so foundational, so instinctual, that – even in a game – it is paramount


Regardless of media, social trends or even upbringing, the fact is accepted (if not consciously acknowledged).




Needless to say, as a man, I could not grasp the concept initially.


Because it’s simply not my reality.


As I’m fond of saying to women with whom I associate:


As long as you can see the “Alpha” around my fat, I’m in.


Fat just makes it harder to see.




Yet, for women, form is substance.


Their appearance has a tremendous impact on a fate between rags and riches.


Fame and ignominy.


And, worst of all, right and wrong.


(How many girls think themselves smarter than they are since they’re physically attractive?


Many, sadly, which comes to bite them in the ass later in life but that’s a tale for another day.) 




As I’ve said before, I say again:


All the best art and literature centers around two things:


Sex and violence.


Because they are the paths to power for women and men, respectively.







“But find the ones that bring you life and you’ll find me…”

Posted in Uncategorized on January 16, 2018 by A♠






Although infrequent, I do receive mail asking my advice.


I drag my feet in replying.


Every single time.


Admittedly, I am a busy man but my procrastination is intentional.




See, in my time in this world I’ve learned:


No one will know your problems – and, most importantly, their solutions – better than you.


There is no one, True path because there is no one, True destination.


So, like any good psychologist or bartender, I let the man before me tell his tale.


Then figure out his own remedy as he speaks.




Now, I do offer some help.


A look under the hood at the ► engine of the world ◄, most often.


Or help ► gazing inward ◄, on occasion.


So, this week, I’ll assign some homework to keep the ball rolling.


1} Work on your personal boundaries and honest communication; practice saying what you mean. I’m 45, at the moment, and it’s still something that warrants sincere effort. 


2} Hunt around, in real life – if possible – or online if necessary (due to a handicap of some sort) for a new song, painting or poem you like. 


3} Buy new socks, underwear and (if you can afford them) new daily-wear shoes/boots. You’ll be shocked by the impact that has. Scout’s honor.


Then please share the results in the comments.




In closing, understand that whatever I ask of you is, in the end, for you.


There will be a day when my voice is silenced.


Never to return.


And if you think this blog, my books or my podcast appearances are about anything but love [fraternal/paternal/avuncular]—


Then you’ve missed my point entirely.


Brilliant. The kind only born out of the Pankration. The marrow, the blood, the viscera, both sweet and putrid. That is life, true life. The kind that willingly kills, born out of love for life. Most do not understand. We strive to. And 80 Proof is that window. Contempt for death. Love of life.







“Burnt the flowers in my hand, I was almost there…”

Posted in Uncategorized on January 10, 2018 by A♠






I couldn’t tell you what day it was. 


I was drunk.


Every one of them.


I’d stumble out of bed.


Turn on my laptop.


Light a cigarette.


Fix a Jack & Coke.


And start writing.


I kept this up for years.


[I’d saved so much money from my quashed government career, I could afford to do so.]




Again, I couldn’t tell you what day it was.


But when I leaned on the wall, sliding myself along it to get to the bathroom and shat blood—


I knew I should reconsider my actions.




A couple years prior to that, my ex had cheated on me and dumped me (via text).


On Christmas Eve.


Yet, for the next few months, she’d text and send pictures.


Saying she missed me.


But she couldn’t get back together.




One morning, she called.


I still had her in my phone.


So I knew it was her.


It was then I realized:


If I answer, she’ll keep the torment going.


Like reaching for candy in bag filled with broken glass.


I knew, then, I should reconsider my actions.




So here’s my question:


What’s the difference between those two situations?








Don’t worry.


It’s a trick question.




There isn’t a difference.


But it’s shocking how many believe there is.


Some are reading this, thinking:


“I wasn’t fooled!”




So you’ve never said:


“One more hit/toke/needle/drink/kiss/fuck is worth the suffering.”


Only to find out, way too late—


It wasn’t?


Well, brother, you learned faster than I did:


If it’s killing you, stop inviting it into your life.


Or you’ll soon have no life into which it may enter.