Thot Masks

Customary page link to article giving overview of topic.

Congratulations Alex Jones, you are today's winner of a handful of page clicks courtesy of yours truly. The best part of that article is that image numero uno is Ana "I'm still better than you" Kasparian of the Young Turks. Whatever else you might say about Alex Jones, he is an excellent troll.

App designer Ashot Gabrelyanov inadvertently (actually, he probably had at least some idea what he was doing) unleashed a shitstorm by hitting the thermal exhaust port of progressive women across the West: Aesthetics. Specifically, theirs. My chiefest, and simultaneously most banal, takeaway from interacting with Leftist women in college is that they are overwhelmingly ugly, fat, or disfigured. Honestly its usually a pick-two affair, with fatness vastly outweighing (heh) any other category as a singular trait. These people burn an insane amount of calories imposing academic and bureaucratic penalties on anyone who dares to point out the incongruity of the very idea of "thin privilege" considering that starvation killed one hundred million people in not-real-communist countries, plus or minus some change. But for whatever reason, they can't be fucked to hop on a treadmill.

Not that the men I encountered were any less broken. Speaking of the soyim, how did they react to FaceApp?

Shocking.

There is a particularly disgusting incestuous relationship between female feminists and their (albeit barely) male counterparts. Feminists screech for support, receive it from soymen orbiters, which wildly inflates feminism's perception that what they say is important. The soyman trades his dignity for a few pats on the head, which he uses to orbit slightly closer to his target until he reaches the point where he is just close enough to corner her when she is alone so that he may engage in the beta seduction ritual called "whipping out your junk in front of her and masturbating furiously". I have many questions regarding why male feminists seem to think that male feminism is a winning sexual strategy, but probably the most curious question is why does your seduction routine universally involve unannounced masturbation in front of your target? There's something funny about how ubiquitous that particular act is, and what it means will be revisited at a later date.

Unlike a handful of people who seem to think that FaceApp is a civilization spanning scales-falling-from-the-eyes event, I hold no illusions about the power of makeup, and neither do most men. That the face you're squinting at through the dim lights of a bar and a number of libations you forgot to count doesn't matter when objective numero uno is to fulfill your now uninhibited animal instincts. The morning after may be a little brutal, but you're not thinking about that then. In that respect, FaceApp isn't really all that significant. What is significant is the screeching. The culture war wasn't won or lost overnight, and each wayward tantrum the Left throws is a small but indelible memory for a small but nevertheless significant number of young men. Little lights flickering in the darkness. It is a small blessing, all things considered, to know that they grow in number every day.

Rape Culture

Yet more heads roll! Amusingly, the string of sexual crimes by Leftists now includes Harvey Weinstein's brother, Amazon's Roy Price, New Republic Editor Leon Wieseltier, director David O. Russel, director James Toback (now accused by 238 women), the proprietor of a prog videogame forum and bourgeois commie LARPer and Jacobin contributor Sam Kriss. We've come a long way from Harvey. I'd pause to say something about how I'm still not tired of winning, but I have more pressing questions.

First, why? The scale of the accusations since Weinstein was outed is almost mind boggling. Almost. It's no secret that male feminists have ulterior motives when they sign up for the equality struggle session. Every once in a while a low to mid tier male feminist with name recognition would be outed for some sort of sexual impropriety against the, erm, fairer sex. Anyone who somehow avoids the news, but attended college with millennials would harbor similar suspicions. Most men I met in college had very little sympathy for feminism, but all men who sympathized with feminism were lackluster examples of masculinity. There is a certain, delicious irony in hearing individuals who only barely resemble a man bitch about "toxic" masculinity. Chiefest among those accused of the crime of toxic masculinity were fraternities. If you ever have the opportunity to listen to some soymen bitch about Greek Life, hold off on interjecting and just listen. You will very quickly realize that the animosity SJWs hold towards the Greek system is not just based in resentment, but also ressentiment. I touched on this in my very first post:

Didn't get a bid from a fraternity or sorority? Resent that you don't get invited to their bangin ragers? No problemo famalam, just call them racist and the school will be right there, just like your stupid fucking helicopter parents, to put those above you on their knees in supplication, begging for mercy. That is power, but cheap and easy and wholly devoid of obligation, responsibility or the burden of care and foresight.

As I see it, the ressentiment soymen hold for fraternities is inseparable from their sexual frustration. At the end of my teens and into my earliest twenties, I was a frat boy. I jokingly told my non-Greek friends that a fraternity is more or less a glorified drinking club. Sure, to a large extent that is true. But fraternities also serve as easy access to women. Joining a fraternity is a status booster. I'm not as erudite as Roissy when it comes to explaining how the sexual market works, so bear with me. Women, being hypergamous, are particularly aware of where men rank on the social hierarchy - or at least how men present their rank, as there appears to be little difference in the female mind. This explains the efficacy of 'game'. Membership in a fraternity checks off a bunch of qualifiers that boost relative status: Trial by fire vis-a-vis pledging, popularity through the easy friendship of membership, access to resources through alcohol and parties, exclusivity through invitations to closed parties, etc. There are other benefits (primarily post-graduation networking), but that is relatively unimportant when you're trying to rail some thots. I certainly never boasted about how great a job I was going to have when I was flirting. And none of this is to say that all of my frat buddies slayed pussy non-stop. A fraternity will certainly get you through the door, and give you a higher initial status, but its up to you to close the deal. There were guys who brought home some strange every night, and there were a handful of guys who didn't even touch a woman. But that doesn't matter, because to an outsider all that is visible is the long line of women one-night-standed by a bunch of Chads. Hence, ressentiment. Amusingly, despite the incessant bitching from prog women about the Greek system, I have yet to meet a feminist who wasn't deeply flattered by the prospect of getting railed by a frat boy. The incongruity between what a woman says and what a woman does is a dead horse I don't need to beat.

Being shut out from the (perceived) access to pussy vis-a-vis fraternal organizations, men who still have a sex drive turn elsewhere. There are a whole bunch of strategies to getting laid in college, some good and some bad, but for some reason there is a very obvious, very loud and outspoken, and very wretched group of men who decided being a yes man white knight to a woman's worst impulses was the best. Really, for them, it was the path of least resistance. I normally would scoff, but evidently the thirsty are quenched every now and again. Sorta. Do yourself a solid - if you aren't the sort of person that reflexively flinches at cringe - and compare the woman's account of her unwanted encounter with Sam Kriss (below), and the secret recording of Harvey Weinstein attempting to seduce that model.

Fucking cringe.

I don't even need to lead you where I want to take you, the cringe is so very real. I could tell you a few stories about buddies (fraternal or otherwise) who failed spectacularly in seducing women while in my vicinity, but without a face or a name, the anecdote is more or less meaningless and hogging up space. Suffice it to say I've seen some godawful pickup attempts, but the rub is that I have never in my life seen anything in person that makes me cringe as hard as listening to Weinstein's pathetic pleading and demanding, or reading Sam Kriss's increasingly desperate attempts to get the girl in the above picture to come home with him. There is a certain sense of entitlement that you might see in the way both men attempt to ingratiate their sexual urges, and this sense, I think, is key to understanding the why here, and much more broadly, the why of why our ruling class is failing and consuming itself.

There are a lot of ways to distill the problem of the modern world and the crisis of Western Civilization. Brett Stevens refers to our pathology as both hubris and solipsism. I would add to that, because I generally agree with Stevens, by saying that most people want something for nothing, and as the eventual consequence of racking up physical, metaphysical and spiritual debt has yet to arrive, most people willfully delude themselves into thinking that the debtor will never actually collect his due. People like Harvey Weinstein, his brother, Sam Kriss, the idiot burning his Lefty vidya games forum to the ground, and male feminists generally are cut and dry examples of something for nothing. Pledging allegiance to the degrading nonsense of postmodernism requires no effort, and costs nothing (save for what Theodore Dalrymple said about the purpose of communist propaganda). Whatever effort steeled the Leftists of yore, the Anarchist terrorists, the Communist infiltrators and the Marxists of the Frankfurt School is worthless now, because their sons paid no price for their father's efforts. It is actually not surprising that the bourgeois fucktards who were handed the cultural controls of the greatest technomagic civilization of all time have gone and fucked up everything by trying to fuck everything. And it's even less a surprise that they had no grace doing so! They were untested! They paid no price, burned no calories. For Christ's sake, Sam Kriss is the scion of rich bourgeois urbanites, and contrary to his socialist creds he tried to puff himself up to his would be cumdumpster based on the astonishing wealth of his progenitors.

A long time ago Roissy (I believe, I actually don't want to dig through the CH archives to find this particular post) shed some light on the old "grass is always greener" adage. If I remember the chain correctly, George Clooney's manager envies the way that extremely attractive women will simply slip Clooney their numbers. This manager, no schlub himself, has a name that carries weight (being the manager of an A list celebrity tends to do this), and himself attracts many women, though not as many as Clooney. The managers friend who... maybe was in a band or something, envies the manager, but himself reels in a lot of women vis-a-vis being a musician, and the bartender envies the friend, who is in turn envied by so on and so forth, all the way down the line with men who do slightly worse, sexually, envying their betters. The story eventually ends with some guy who goes home to his Japanese love pillow envying his friend who has a female coworker he talks to regularly. I forget what the moral exactly was, but why I am bringing it up is that a man who harvests desirable anything without effort is a man untested.

We are all born virgins. In the seemingly ancillary story I hamfistedly related to you above, we all start at Japanese love pillow, and we all know the peak is George Clooney. Or maybe some other actor with better taste. Just roll with it, it's a lame metaphor anyways. I don't actually advocate hedonism or the PUA lifestyle, despite the sex metaphor you're about to be shoved into.

Leftists look at George Clooney and say my life would be so much better if I were him, and they either inherit the building blocks of staggering sexual prowess (fame, power, wealth, access) and fuck it up royally by never putting in the work, or they hover as male feminist allies/lesser betas, watching in anguish as their oneitis slowly morphs into a cumdumpster courtesy of a long line of Chads. Hence, ressentiment. Much to their surpise, the Left's shortcut to power only enfeebles them more (to borrow from PA again).

You never, ever, ever want to just look at the goal, because it isn't the goal that makes you better, it's the lessons and character and muscle you accrue along the way. We all want to be Emperor, but without the conquest... the top of the mountain is just a pretty view if you didn't climb up it yourself. 

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There is fairly good reason to believe that the defenestration of Harvey Weinstein was simply the crack necessary to burst the dam. Given that the sexual impropriety among modern Leftists (and, according to Thermidore, the Leftists of yore) is fairly common, we should expect that there is a significant population of young women who have experienced anything ranging from mild discomfort to straight horror, who are more than willing to spill the beans given that being a sexual victim itself is a profitable way to harvest attention - the only currency that really matters to women.

Some have pointed to Bannon being the source, although I am fairly unconvinced. I am extremely unconvinced that there is anyone "directing" the outflow of victims from the shadows of our Leftist overlords, much as I would otherwise like to believe.

What is important is that this is tearing the Left apart. Complete madness.

Hell Hath No Fury II

Wayward White woman caught in signalling spiral evidently vaporized by drone strike.

I raise half a glass to the vaguely amusing thought of this weeping widow meeting her end the same way as her husband went: Scattered across the barren landscape of Outremer, mourned only by desert tribalists with room temperature IQs.

Her son died with her. Once upon a time I was younger and libertarian and horrified that Barrack Obama killed 16 year old Abdulrahman Al-Awlaki in a drone strike intended to take out his Jihadi father. Today, not so much. Perhaps the passage of years have embittered me. Good riddance.

Hell Hath No Fury

Everything is being pulled in a million directions at once. A single trend taken to its logical or projected conclusion may end up being wrong. For instance, the pending population explosion of Africa rests in part on the assumption that food and space will always be available. What if the West runs out of money? What if after the 68ers die off, the borders are shut? I cannot say any more than you, although I will say that the fatalism of certain camps is.... annoying.

That's neither here nor there.

From the New York Post: Punk rock ISIS widow wants to go home.

You can tell she's the sort of person that, like, really challenges systems of oppression and stuff.

Pretty lulzy. Sally Jones, who also goes by the nom de guerre Umma Hussain al Britani, is apparently a former punk rocker and "benefits mother". What is particularly lulzy is that Jones, the sort of person from the sort of camp that resents the patriarchy of White men abandoned the West for the free and exhilarating life as... an Arab's wife. A jihadi, no less.

The fate of our intrepid Huwhyte Jihadette is irrelevant, but I raise half a glass to the vaguely amusing thought of this weeping widow meeting her end the same way as her husband went: Scattered across the barren landscape of Outremer, mourned only by desert tribalists with room temperature IQs.

The aging visage of Sally Jones did give me pause, however. She looks strikingly similar to a number of rather silly White women I have met over the years - particularly in college. When we were younger, and when they did not bear the telltale signs of hyper-hedonism, the free-spirited "liberated" women I knew had a certain charm about them. They were fun to drink with, fun to chase, etc.

Alas, time is a crueler mistress than the most fickle woman. I, your humble wordsmith, happen to have access to the nearly unlimited credit line my White-Male-Heterosexual Privilege Card™ grants me, whereas my former paramores, regrettably, do not. Really, staying active, regulating my alcohol consumption and maintaining a balanced diet have helped me stave off the early signs of aging that have long since pushed the girls I used to know to the outer edges of the sexual market. What is darkly amusing about the girls I used to know is that, like a fat girl browsing the 'petite' section of some retail chain, most of them are completely blind to the depreciation in value their lifestyles have wreaked upon the only part of them that really matters: Their bodies. I have it on good information that a number of these girls are still pushing lines of cocaine (or what they've been told was cocaine) up their noses on the regular, God bless their souls. And by good information, I mean Snapchat.

Occasionally it dawns on one of them that something somewhere went horribly wrong, but I've never had any of them articulate with any reasonable degree of precision what that something might be. No, I am not exactly expecting a woman to trot out some stylized Moldbugian rhetoric precisely explaining how they exchanged family formation for cocks and careerism, but the best I've gotten from the handful I've seen descend into tears is this vague understanding that they are unhappy. Maybe in a decade when 40 is fast approaching they'll be able to articulate it better, like this unfortunate wench, who I'm linking to for a second time now. It never gets old, but to be honest, the article is a brutal let down compared to the low effort 4chan memes making fun of this poor soul. There certainly is an element of "serves you right" that comes with reading this article. There are several others I've read over the past few years, with one particularly haunting suicide from a cute 29 year old who feared she would die alone and childless (and so she did). But because I am not in the MRA camp and do not have the requisite bitterness towards women that the incel life grants to many young men, there is a strong element of sadness that comes with reading about troubled women, not to mention seeing it in the flesh.

Whatever sympathies I may have for former career girls who belatedly realize that money and promotions is far less satisfying than continuing the family line, I have no sympathy to offer those who have become particularly deranged:

Swedish social workers are apparently banging their refugee clients.

It all makes sense now, doesn't it? I think others have commented at length about this peculiar revelation, so instead of rehashing that, I offer you this:

Steve Sailer has made a pretty big to-do about the projected population explosion of Africa. In all fairness to Steve, the pressing matter of Africa's practically exponentially increasing population should concern everyone who doesn't want their countries overrun by the sort of people who can't make their own function. I'll leave that arena to Steve, who has a far greater reach than most of us ever will.

That said, there is another sort of population explosion, or really demographic explosion, headed down the pipes. With the rise of career girls, there will eventually be a rapid increase in the number of lonely white women. In fact, I suspect that the occasional "I left the love of my life and now regret it because I'm 40 and the dating pool is slim" articles are the early tip of that iceberg. Like my former paramores, Millennial generation women may one day wake up, look in a mirror and gasp in horror at their self-made doom.

What then? Surely it is no great loss to Whites that the sort of Whites who don't particularly care for White heritage are lost to genetic oblivion, but that's a far longer term observation. Will they go quietly into the night, flee to the convents, or will we end up like Sweden, where aging feminists have resorted to harvesting refugee clients so they can get some dick, now that they're old and Swedish-Swedes no longer pay any attention to them? How much of the short sighted Swedish social workers' sexual behavior is explicitly in the vein of "fuck you dad"? And will that sort of thing ever show up here?