Idealizations

The Slut Paradox

Every man wants a slut, he just wants her to be HIS slut.

ANDREW DICE CLAY: Hey, is that your chick there?

GUY IN THE AUDIENCE: Yeah!

DICE: Damn she’s pretty hot!

GUY: Yeah,..

DICE: You been together a while?

GUY: About 6 months.

DICE: Nice. She faithful to you?

GUY: Oh yeah.

DICE: She good in bed?

GUY: *nods head enthusiastically*

DICE: She suck a good dick?

GUY: (laughing) Ohhh yeah,..heheh,..

DICE: I suppose the next question would be, “How do you suppose she got that way?”

If you had an idealized Quality Woman girlfriend who was smoking hot, well adjusted mentally, loyal, would make a good mother, came from a good family, etc. etc., but would only ever begrudgingly have sex with you, in missionary position only, never consider giving you head, and only once a month (in 13 minute increments) because she’d been conditioned to believe that sex was immoral and she didn’t want to be thought of as a slut, would you marry her?

This is the Slut Paradox that vexes contemporary man; what number of prior lovers can a woman have that would be acceptable for you? Seven? Five? How many hobby horses should there be on the cock carousel before a woman is a slut? Don’t bother answering this, because for your average (beta) man, the number – even if you could get full disclosure – is irrelevant to him.

You see, thanks to the pre-existing social infrastructure that the feminine imperative has established, the average man can’t believe his luck when he finally does become sexual with a woman – whether it’s his first time or it’s the hundredth with his wife. So high is her pedestal that it’s literally a twist of fate. The gods have smiled upon him with the sexual favors of a woman, and his good fortune is made all the better when his lover already knows how to perfectly suck his cock just like the women in all the porn he’s watched since he was twelve. No questions are asked – you don’t qualify a gift from the gods, you just accept it.

The Slut Paradox is a very complex issue because it wraps up so much social, emotional and biological importance and details. I’m using the ‘average’ man here as a starting point because he’s the social majority; he’s the benchmark for how both genders approach the paradox, because it’s his discretion to give a woman’s sexual past any kind of gravity. For as much as women will bleat on about “slut status” and double standards, it really all comes down to how the average – in this case beta – male contends with (or doesn’t) a woman’s sexual past. As enlightened Game-aware Men we’re largely exceptions to this rule, or at least blamefully aware of the mechanics of it.

In the initial attraction and arousal stages of a sexual pairing, the average guy doesn’t care about a woman’s prior sex life. It’s only after that pairing becomes solidified that it becomes a consideration.

Unless a woman is a porn actress, I don’t think it’s the number of guys that bothers Men; and I don’t even think it’s the details of how many dicks she’s had. What’s bugs men is that they want to possess her. Men want her genuine desire, but know other guys have had it already and moved on – and they’re cool with it, and she’s cool with it, but he’s not because he wants to own her. He wants to know that he’s getting the best of what she has to offer sexually and emotionally. He wants to know that HE’S the guy who brings out the slut in her that no other guy has experienced fully.

This is the root of the paradox issue. The average guy is playing by the feminine imperative’s stated rule set. He wants monogamy, he had to work at it. He had to negotiate with her for what she willingly, genuinely, desired to do with 5 other guys (assuming she’s honest). And on some level, he knows her desire for him is compromised because he had to plead his case with her so she’d warm up to him. Only now that he’s gotten what he’s idealized for so long he realizes other’s have had it before him without anything that comes even close what he invested to get.

Alpha Widows

Now before I get run up the flagpole here, I’m completely aware of the studies indicating a woman’s capacity to bond monogamously is inversely proportionate to the number of sexual partners she’s experienced prior to monogamy. I wont argue the merit of that concept, but I also don’t think that it fully encompasses the dynamic. I say this because, as Katy Perry so adequately illustrated recently, even ONE prior lover (or even unrequited obsession) can be Alpha enough to upset that bonded monogamous balance. These are the Alpha Widows – women so significantly impacted by a former Alpha (or perceptually so) lover that she’s left with an emotional imprint that even the most dutiful, loving beta-provider can never compete with. A woman doesn’t have to have been an archetypal slut in order to have difficulty in pair bonded monogamy.

So again I’ll ask, how many is too many? For an Alpha Widow, one’s enough. It’s my contention that the Slut Paradox isn’t a numbers game so much as it’s an Alpha impact game. What if your new partner has only banged a mere 2 men before you, but engaged in intense sexual experiences she feels self-conscious about doing with you? Is she a slut?

As a final thought, I should add that women have long been aware of the utility that the Slut Paradox represents in maintaining primacy for their sexual strategy. I elaborated on this in the The Tool of ASD,

Five Minutes of Alpha

Back in September of 2010 the inimitable Roissy (aka Heartiste) graced the manosphere with an insightful post about Katy Perry and an intriguing meltdown she had whilst spotting an old high school crush she had in the audience at one of her shows. My how time changes the landscape of our realities in so few years.

As is Roissy’s gift for prophecy, he accurately summed up the whole affair thusly:

Five minutes of alpha — even worse, five minutes of alpha rejection — can fuck with the heads of even the most desirable women. And continue fucking with them years later. In comparison — if the reports are to be believed — women who divorce beta schlubs after years of marriage pretty much forget them before the ink is dry on the papers.

Flash forward to January of 2012 and we find our previously boastful, pre-marriage Katy Perry in divorce proceedings with a situationally famous Russel Brand. But,…wait you say, isn’t this the same Katy Hudson Perry who so publicly shamed her first Alpha love Shane Lopes?

Perry dedicated her next song, a kiss-off anthem from her double-platinum 2008 disc “One of the Boys,” to her former crush and even tweaked a lyric in the middle of the song for the occasion, singing, “I can’t believe I fell in love with Shane Lopes.”

At the end of the tune, she looked directly at Lopes, held up her hand — which prominently displays her engagement ring [ed. Russel’s dowery investment] — and said, “That’s cool, I got mine,” and mockingly blew him a kiss.

Yeah, that same one. Yet the plot still thickens with the billboard chart topping hit/video released by Hudson Perry aptly entitled “The ONE that got away” (*apologies for subjecting my readership to this audio mayonaise), wherein we find a visibly aged Katy retrospectively pining away for her post high school Alpha artist lover of a bygone decade in the luxurious home of whom we presume is her aging beta providership for the duration of her soon to be ending life.

For all the internal conflicts and psychology that caffeinates the rationalization hamster in women, I’ll admit that it occasionally makes for some convincing artistic statements. I was almost feeling sorry for the young Katy, that is until her past lover comically swerves to avoid a Laurel Canyon rockslide and dives off a cliff in his 70’s Mustang. The premise that the guy plummets to his death then absolves our heroine of the liability of her next most significant life choice; settling for the unexciting beta provider responsible for what we presume is the duration of her lavish, yet empty, life. He’s not the One that got away due to any reason she implicitly enacted, he’s the one who was blamelessly taken from her by fate. Tragic reality replaced by fairytale .

Poor, poor Katy. Her Alpha love is forever denied to her. I wonder how Russel Brand feels after watching this? Like maybe a (situationally) Alpha  high school QB with little more than a GED can still upstage a Hollywood actor if his impact is significant enough on a woman? I can’t help but imagine that Katy is oblivious to the irony of all this. That’s the real tragedy; that women would be  convinced of this soul-mate pornography, while still subject to the War Brides dynamic. Still more ironic is Katy Perry’s story as a parallel to contemporary western women’s. Party and dance, settle in with the provider before the inevitable Wall impact and pine for the One that got away.

The Death of Rollo Tomassi

Rollo,  I’m only 17 (soon to be 18..) but I am looking for some wise advice from some older men..

Anyway, I am in my Senior year of high school and throughout it all I have slacked off completely. I am actually half a credit behind, in order for me to graduate in June. I am just barely scraping by. I have not taken any foreign language courses so I am very unlikely college/university bound.

For these past 4 years I have been obsessed with the idea of becoming a rockstar. I have been playing bass since I was little, I am very good from what people tell me and I have talent, but anytime I get a band going it becomes a failure.. I really don’t feel like I’m getting anywhere in life. My friend (who is also the guitarist in my “band”) wants to go to music school up in Hollywood which would help us out a lot, and maybe even find more/better musicians.. but I do not come from a very wealthy family. This school is just like the cost for a university, and I don’t think they give loans to these kind of schools.. even if they did. There’s no guarantee I could even make a living afterwards. My mom has been pushing me to go to graphics art school, which is what I wanted to do for awhile, but I don’t think I can make it because of my grades.. and to be honest, I really don’t feel like that is what I want to do with the rest of my life. So not only am I in my last year of HS and have no idea what I’m going to do.. I’m so far deep in a hole that even if I choose to do something it would be impossible to get there. I just feel really hopeless right now.

Have you ever been in my situation and got out of it? Can I still be successful?

After reading your initial post I feel like I’m typing this response back to my 19 y.o. self because over 20 years ago I WAS you. So please bear with me by reading this carefully.

In 1987, at 19, I wanted nothing more for my life than to be in a band. I’d actually learned this from the time I was 14 when I discovered that just by saying I was in a band and had long hair girls would be more interested in me. I muddled my way through a big inner-city high school in L.A. as a C student just doing what was necessary to get passable grades since this was a hinderance to what I wanted to do – be in a band. Notice I didn’t say “be a musician”; the music had to be good and rock hard of course, but it was the status and social proof that came from being a band member and the effect this had on girls that really prompted the desire.

I didn’t know how to play a guitar and I literally stole my first guitar. I HAD to learn how to play it. I’d always been a very creative kid, I acted in drama, and I could write well, but my true, natural, God-given gift was my ability to draw and paint. I loved guitar as well, but it never came to me naturally, I had to want to do it and to this day I still study and practice it because I want to be good at it.

By the time I’d graduated, I’d had my first real girlfriend and my first ugly AFC break up. I had no direction to my life and my very passive aggressive, and masculinity-deficient AFC father had never had the interest to guide me or prepare me as an adult. He too was more interested in securing a nominal supply of pussy than be a father, but in all honsety his father before him was kind of whipped too. So I went and did what any metal-head kid in the late 80’s would do, I joined a band.

I worked at a music store in L.A., not because I was trying to live the dream, but because I had to have a job and go to community college to rent what was my own room for 18 years with my dad and his ’empowered’ 2nd wife. I met up with a LOT of musicians, but back then you didn’t have to be a good guitarist, you had to be a guitar god (which I wasn’t), so I joined a band and played bass. I stole a bass and I “borrowed’ long term a good amp and some other equipment to play. To my surprise the bands I played in became very popular in the Hollywood metal scene, but I certainly wasn’t playing for the money – because there was none. In fact we payed to play more than we actually made money. No, it was the top shelf ass I was pulling every time I played that kept me going at it. I loved the scene. The music was great and it was a new adventure every weekend we played. I bought a motorcycle and would literally roll up to gigs with my bass in a gig bag slung over my back.

I lived the minor league Hollywood rock star fantasy for about 4 years. Eventually I got good enough at guitar to play as a studio musician and do session work. I played on TV several times as a hired guitarist for up and coming solo acts. I played in about 4 original projects, 2 of which were openers for national acts. My hair was blonde, down to my ass and I was rail thin (I did start bodybuilding at this time though). All of this was going on and I was getting into networking with L.A. producers, just looking for an opening to get on with a national act, until I met her,…

Lucifer’s Daughter

I didn’t meet Lucifer’s daughter at a gig, I met her in the community college bookstore; you know, the place chumps tell you is the best for meeting ‘quality women’. I still had my education to entertain in order to get what was basically a free ride at home and I met her buying books for a semester. She was a ‘good’ girl, but hot as hell – close to an HB 9 by my high standards of that time. I had to actually work to get with her. I took her out on real “dates” rather than banging her the night we met like the girls in a club as I was used to. Nothing prepared me for the living hell of an LTR I had with her. Once I’d locked into a monogamous relationship with her the party was over. The band I was in disintigrated and she was so insanely jealous of my previous fuck buddies that I didn’t even consider looking for another band to join. I was a prisoner of hers. She went off to a university and I played the good sacrificial savior. My life was ruined because of this woman. In actuality I was trapped in her borderline personality disorder (BPD) cycle and associated myself as being the source of her problem.

After a 4 year psychotic episode of an LTR I was a shadow of what I was previously. She had a degree and was moving on, I had shit. At 26 I was ruined. After this I decided it was time to grow the fuck up and do what I needed to do, but I was starting over with absolutely nothing. I started using my real talents, I got into commercial design and became a successful art director for multi-million dollar companies and only later, at 32 did I get my BFA and Psych degree. My wife and daughter had to pay the price for my lack of foresight and earlier decisions.

I did well for myself once I’d made that cross over to real adulthood. There was no manosphere then and no men I knew who could open my eyes to anything. I had to come to terms with the direction I’d let my life go. I still play guitar and I’ve been in 3 bands since then, but I play now because I love to play, not becasue I get payed or laid. I use my real, natural gifts to pay the mortgage. I write, I’ve played the lead role in MacBeth in theatre, I use my artisitic talents everyday in my work, I do video and web work, I’ve done peer counseling, I lift weights and I’ve been a B class competitive fencer all in this time. All that and so much more.

You have to live your life. Life is a process of doing. I can sit here and type and everyone else can too, but it’s ultimately you who’s going to do what you will. You’ll still probably get into the scene no matter what us mature men will tell you. I WAS you. My advice is to grow yourself up now rather than later. You can be independent, you can live on your own, but ask yourself what are your real gifts and talents? How can you best enhance them? College? You CAN go to college if you want. The thing I lacked at 19 was this insight and the courage to act on it. I wanted pussy and I got it, but I was unprepared to deal with being an AFC in the long term.

I had to kill the old Rollo Tomassi after my hell relationship. He needed killing.

Women in Love

Men believe that love matters for the sake of it. Women love opportunistically.

Today’s pull quote comes from Xpat Ranting’s blog. The discourse there is brief, but insightful:

I really, really, really hope the myth that girls are the hopeless romantics gets kicked to the curb ASAP. Everyone needs to realize that men are the “romantics pretending to be realists” and women; vice versa

I found this particularly thought provoking – Men are the romantics forced to be the realists, while women are the realists using romanticisms to effect their imperatives (hypergamy). This is a heaping mouthful of cruel reality to swallow, and dovetails nicely into the sixth Iron Rule of Tomassi:

Iron Rule of Tomassi #6
Women are utterly incapable of loving a man in the way that a man expects to be loved.

In its simplicity this speaks volumes about about the condition of Men. It accurately expresses a pervasive nihilism that Men must either confront and accept, or be driven insane in denial for the rest of their lives when they fail to come to terms with the disillusionment.

Women are incapable of loving men in a way that a man idealizes is possible, in a way he thinks she should be capable of.

In the same respect that women cannot appreciate the sacrifices men are expected to make in order to facilitate their imperatives, women can’t actualize how a man would have himself loved by her. It is not the natural state of women, and the moment he attempts to explain his ideal love, that’s the point at which his idealization becomes her obligation. Our girlfriends, our wives, daughters and even our mothers are all incapable of this idealized love. As nice as it would be to relax, trust and be vulnerable, upfront, rational and open, the great abyss is still the lack of an ability for women to love Men as Men would like them to.

For the plugged-in beta, this aspect of ‘awakening’ is very difficult to confront. Even in the face of constant, often traumatic, controversions to what a man hopes will be his reward for living up to qualifying for a woman’s love and intimacy, he’ll still hold onto that Disneyesque ideal.

It’s very important to understand that this love archetype is an artifact from our earliest feminized conditioning. It’s much healthier to accept that it isn’t possible and live within that framework. If she’s there, she’s there, if not, oh well. She’s not incapable of love in the way she defines it, she’s incapable of love as you would have it. She doesn’t lack the capacity for connection and emotional investment, she lacks the capacity for the connection you think would ideally suit you.

The resulting love that defines a long-term couple’s relationship is the result of coming to an understanding of this impossibility and re-imagining what it should be for Men. Men have been, and should be, the more dominant gender, not because of some imagined divine right or physical prowess, but because on some rudimentary psychological level we ought to realized that a woman’s love is contingent upon our capacity to maintain that love in spite of a woman’s hypergamy. By order of degrees, hypergamy will define who a woman loves and who she will not, depending upon her own opportunities and capacity to attract it.

The Feminine Reality

I think one of the basic premises I acknowledge in my essays is one that even some of the more ‘enlightened’ Men of the ‘community’ don’t entirely grasp. This is the presumption of a feminine reality. Sometimes I refer to this as the female imperative, other times I might colloquially express it in terms of it being “The Matrix” for an ease of understanding, but I always presume my readers (even of my comments on other blogs or forums) have a basic understanding of this.

I think I may be a bit mistaken in this.

Everything a man experiences, every social conditioning he receives from the earliest age, every accepted social norm and every expectation of him to qualify as the definition of a mature adult Man in contemporary society is designed to serve the female imperative. Moralist wallow in it, absolutists and defeated white knights existentially depend upon it, and even the better part of relativists still (often unwittingly) feed and serve the feminine purpose. In fact, so all encompassing is this reality that we define our masculinity in the terms of how well we can accommodate that feminne influence.

Our media celebrates it, and brooks no dissent. There is very little dissent, since to peel back the veneer is to be at odds with a reality defined by the female purpose. You feel lonely because you can’t understand it’s influence, and the conditioning you’ve been subjected to defines the objective solution to curing that feeling. You base the decisions of your future, your education, your career, your religious beliefs, even where you’ll choose to live, to better accomodate the feminine influence either in the present or in preparation of accommodating it in the future.

You get married, out of fear for not being found acceptable of it, or from social shame for not yet having accepted your role in service to the imperative. Your children are offered in tribute to it, while in turn you unknowingly perpetuate it in them. You pay tribute in alimony, in divorce proceedings, in the expected sacrifices your career demands to maintain its influence in your own life and in society at large. You exist to facilitate a feminine reality.

We can excuse it with moralisms, we can attach notions of honor and stability to it, we can even convince ourselves that the feminine imperative is OUR own imperative, but regardless, men still serve it.

Sexual Strategies

For one gender to realize their sexual imperative the other must sacrifice their own. This is the root source of power the feminine imperative uses to establish its own reality as the normative one. From this flows the rules of engagement for dating / mating, operative social conventions used to maintain cognitive dominance, and laws and legalities that bind society to the benefit of the feminine. From this is derived men’s default status as the ‘disposable’ sex, while women are the protected sex. It’s this root that the imperative uses to excuse (not apologize for) the most blatant inconsistencies and atrocities of women.

Monogamy and fidelity are only useful when paired with an optimized hypergamy. Without that optimization, they’re inconvenient obligations to the the feminine reality.

In order to effect this reality men must be convinced of a degree of more control than the feminine imperative exerts. They must believe that it is they who are the masters of a reality defined by the feminine, while remaining dependent upon the systems that the feminine reality outlines for them. So they are told they are Kings, brutes, savages, patricians, intellectuals, anything that might convince them that the reality they exist in is privileged and expressly serves their purpose. Already the ‘protected sex’, this all encourages the default presumption of victimhood for the feminine.

The crowning irony of the feminine reality is that men should be accused of patriarchy while enabling the very framework of the feminine imperative. The feminine sexual strategy is victorious because even under the contrived auspices of male oppression, it’s still the female goal-state that is agreed upon as the correct effort. Satisfying the feminine imperative, achieving the ends of the feminine sexual strategy is still the normative condition. Men’s goals are aberrant, women’s are beatific.

Forgive me if I’ve waxed a bit too poetic here, but it’s important to see the Matrix for what it really is. The next occasion you lock horns with even the most well-meaning woman’s (or mangina’s) opinions about life, relationships, marriage, having babies, religion, etc. understand that her perceptions are based in this reality. She’s correct because her beliefs line up with what the framework of her reality reinforced in her as correct. Any other frame of reference is either utterly alien to her at best, wicked and evil at worst.

Morpheus: The Matrix is a system, Neo. That system is our enemy. But when you’re inside, you look around, what do you see? Businessmen, teachers, lawyers, carpenters. The very minds of the people we are trying to save. But until we do, these people are still a part of that system and that makes them our enemy. You have to understand, most of these people are not ready to be unplugged. And many of them are so inured, so hopelessly dependent on the system, that they will fight to protect it.

Mr. Perfect

Rational reader Edger had an interesting question:

“Rollo, I don’t get it. Why would a woman stay with a guy she knows is a chump?  I find it interesting how women will stay with their boyfriend’s/husband’s regardless if they’re AFC. Yea, there will be those guys who will say they get with these men for their money, or stay with them for financial security, but come on, we all know women will generally ONLY give their intimacy to men who have their game down tight and fit the profile – doesn’t matter how much they make. We know you don’t need to make a lot of money to get laid or to develop relationship with a woman. I have seen many many dudes who have had shit, develop long term relationships with hot women. But to be more specific, how do these AFC’s get with these women in the first place if they’re AFC’s to begin with? This is where it gets confusing..”

Why would a woman stay with an AFC? A lot of reasons actually, but there are some commonalities.

First, there’s the guy that was once the Jerk, who had been attractive enough, or played the role well enough, to get involved with a woman who successfully “changed” him. And in an effort to better identify with what she’s convinced him (and herself) that he ought to be living up to, he reverts to being an AFC in the relationship. She can’t complain because he’s changed into what she thought she was supposed to want in a guy, but he’s turned into the kind of guy she’d never have been attracted to if she were to meet him while single. So she stays with him up until the point that she meets another Jerk who she wants to fuck and eventually ‘fixes’ him too.

Second, lets not forget that some of the most wealthy and physically attractive men also happen to be the biggest AFCs you’ll ever meet. I realize that sounds odd, but the wealthy man and the attractive man have little to prompt them to re-think their own behaviors. Because they are more readily rewarded with female intimacy, there’s less reason to question the framework of intergender relations, and / or their own predispositions and conditionings that would make them AFCs.

I once worked with this guy named Jake who was model quality good looking. He had no trouble with attracting women, and most would simply approach him, but Jake was probably the biggest AFC tool I’d ever met. He used to constantly complain that he couldn’t get a girlfriend or keep a girl interested in him, even though he was tapping beautiful women every other weekend. Once he opened his mouth and spilled his life story out on the restaurant table on the first date these girls would run for the hills. He literally had ONEitis for ANY girl he was dating at the time and swallowed hook, line and sinker the soul-mate mythology. He tried to be friends, tried to be sensitive, tried to be funny, tried to be savior and every other AFC technique in the book, but all this did was push these women away from him. They enjoyed being fucked by the guy, but when he started up the ice cream cones and puppy dogs, cuddle-bitch mentality, they moved on to other guys.

In other words AFCs aren’t all dorks and geeks, and being attractive doesn’t insulate you from internalizing stupid, feminized romanticisms. Nice Guys may finish last, but that doesn’t mean they don’t finish at all, and some manage to get laid occasionally along the way.

Mr. Perfect

The problem with guys like Jake is that they strive to fit a feminine-centric idealization. They want to be perfect for her.

Quoted from Mr. Right Does Not Exist:

Three in four women believe there is no such thing as the perfect man, with most seeing their partner as only 69 per cent perfect.

The poll of 2,000 women showed more than 75 per cent believed the perfect man did not exist.

It seems that women are actually quite realistic on what they look for from their partner.

“While they might happily overlook a few common flaws from their guys, there are certain behaviors that men just won’t get away with.” The results showed one in five women think their partner only pretends to listen to them while leaving clothes on the bedroom floor and snoring were among other gripes. The perfect man would be expected to make an effort with his partner’s friends, avoid using her toothbrush, stay clean-shaven and not be lazy.

Feel free to read the rest if you can stomach it. I realize this is a sugary breakfast cereal of an article, but it serves to establish a point,…

Perfect is Boring.

Say that again, Perfect is boring. It seems counterintuitive, but it’s your imperfection that makes you attractive. There’s an implied, ambient confidence that’s radiated from a Man who knows what a woman’s stated ideal of perfection would be and yet refuses to embody it for her. That underlying message to her is “I know you hate having the toilet seat left up, but I’m supremely confident enough in your attraction, and other women’s attraction,  to me that I’ll ignore your silly pet peeves rather than pander to them.” It’s the guy who engages in this pandering by attempting to be a woman’s stated ideal who sends the message that he is really optionless. It’s essentially a failed meta-shit test. It says to her that he’ll be a willing participant in his own manipulation.

As I’ve written in prior posts, women will never substantively appreciate the efforts a man makes to facilitate her reality. A feminine-centric reality means that any extraneous attempt he makes to appease her will be interpreted as the normative. It’s just expected that he’ll do her bidding, because that’s just what guys are supposed to do. Yet it is the Man who refuses, either consciously or as a matter of course, to engage in trying to appease her who holds women’s attentions the most. If there is a categoric Alpha trait it’s just this obliviousness to the wants of a fem-centric norm.

Mr. Perfect doesn’t get extra points for being perfect because the aspects of that “perfection” is the expected norm. It’s boring because it’s mundane. The problem of a feminized norm is that it makes feminine similarities between the genders the ideal state. It ignores, willfully or otherwise, that biomechanics has evolved an appreciation for the differences in the genders to be primarily attractive to the other. The more like we become – men becoming feminine, women becoming masculine – the more we lose that innate attraction. This goes for the aspects we both love and hate about the other gender.

In defying this inborn attraction, and making attempts to socialize it to better fit the feminine sensibility, we grate against what is really characteristic of each gender. In the natural world Men will be Men and despite the protestations, women really don’t want it any other way.

Compatibility

There is a groupie for every male endeavor. Except World of Warcraft. – Roissy

Rollo, what are the Best Hobbies for meeting chicks?

Yeah…i know..you’re not suppose to be looking for chicks while you are practicing your hobby but…fuck that crap. I’m always on the lookout….and hanging with a bunch of drunk dudes who play softball on the weekend in SWELTERING heat doesn’t sound like my gig.

It’s very entertaining for me to hear guys reason as to why they got into yoga, or my all time favorite, salsa dancing as some means of meeting girls. I mean really, if that’s the goal you choose to devote the precious few hours of your leisure time to then I suppose a guy ought to take up scrap-booking or zumba.

If you’re picking up a hobby in order to meet women all you’re doing is attempting to Identify with what you expect your idealized woman to appreciate. If you get into something for this reason it’s not a hobby, it’s a Buffer.

Successful men don’t chase success – success chases them. Women are going to expect you to have your own uncontrived, interests, passions and hobbies established before meeting them.

However, I do think the desire of finding a common interest prior to, or in order to hook up with women is an interesting one. The MGTOW crowd will of course use this as a prime illustration of how men autonomously shape themselves to the ideals of women. And in the terms of living in the feminine reality they’d be right. You see, whenever a Man engages in any leisure activity, passion, hobby, etc. that doesn’t directly benefit his wife / GF it’s always perceived as a waste of time. If she cannot realize a tangible result that benefits her – or by way of her, the potential “family” or the “relationship” – your effort is pointless and frivolous in contrast to engaging her, entertaining her or relating with her. Again we see the hypergamous feminine imperative of girl-world. If it’s not directly benefiting women, it’s not benefiting humanity in general.

That said, you can stretch this association quite a bit. If you enjoy playing basketball after work with friends or hitting the gym, there is a benefit to her – your improved health, better looks, less fat, etc. so the “hobby” is more tolerable. There is a kind of hierarchy of leisure activities, hobbies, passions, etc. that women rank based on how it relates to themselves and the social perceptions that are associated with it. You could even make the case that playing X-Box helps you decompress after a hard day at work, but this is less tolerable than something that has tangible benefits or at least the association of benefits for a woman. You have to learn how to mediate this in an LTR. It’s actually a fantastic opportunity to maintain the frame within a relationship if you have the wherewithal to endure her protests. I have a LOT of passions and interests that I enjoy. Some directly benefit my wife, others don’t, but the moment I give one up, I surrender and that’s the moment she loses respect for my authority as a Man. I fully acknowledge there are interests I have that Mrs. Tomassi is casually indifferent to or outright despises, but were I to acquiesce with “OK honey, you win, I’ll stop it with such and such”, I lose prominence.

Nothing irks me more than AFC husbands who abdicated their authority and prominence by giving up things that they loved prior to marriage. And then they tell me how “thankful” they are that they married a woman who “allows” him to watch Hockey occasionally on the little TV set they have in their bedroom (not the widescreen in the living room). If guys are obsessively playing fantasy football or baseball in preference to banging their wives, I think the first place to start is with the wife. Most often it’s a referendum on her. Men should not need to create their own space, their home should be their space. Your home should be your ‘Man-Cave’.

Common Interests

When I was dating my wife we shared one common interest – fucking like rabbits whenever and wherever. There’s are very few things my wife and I do together as a couple as far as common interests go. We don’t share hobbies, we do bodybuilding, but separately, she taught me to ski when we were first married, but after our daughter was born we ended that.

I think in general people place far too much importance on “common interests” as if it’s some kind of glue that should hold a relationship together. I think shared beliefs and appreciation for individual identities is much more vital for a strong relationship than whether or not you both enjoy tennis. It’s our differences in personality and how the traits of our individual characters complement each other that makes a couple grow. I have a tendency to intellectualize things; my wife’s ‘common sense’ simple wisdom helps temper this in me. My wife is generally very impatient, and I have the patience of Job (particularly with our daughter) – this complements her deficit. My wife is a ‘worst case scenario’ worrier, I tend to be more pragmatic and optimistic and this balances another aspect of our relationship. I have a tendency to be more artistic and passionate and this fills a need she has, but is unable to articulate. It’s differences in identity that complement the deficits of the other and a vibrant appreciation of them that account for strong couples.

I would advise guys to re-think this compatibility myth. Every time I see these 40 point personality tests that “ensure compatibility” on eHarmony I want to puke. They’re all based on shared commonalities and this has a potential to lead to disaster. Men need to be able to excel in certain areas or activities in their lives that serve as a renewable source of social proof for the women they pair-bond with. Gender equalists will of course take offense to this in assuming it’s adversarial – as is always their tact – presuming that a woman reduce herself to ‘allow’ her man to win at something. The reality is that women want a Man who’s good at something because it serves to gratify women’s innate narcissism as a source of associative pride for her. Women want a Man other men want to be, and other women want to fuck, and in the context of an LTR or marriage, a guy with an exceptional, recognized talent or passionate dedication to something, however compartmentalized it is, can be all the reminder she needs to help validate her decision to commit to that Man.

As nice as it is to have a mate that shares your interests, a relationship based on how alike the couple is only leads to homogenization and stagnation.

Qualities of the Prince

You know, I’m not quite sure if my readership is aware of this, but I’m a Prince. No really, I’m a Prince (stop laughing), or at least that’s the expectation I’ve come to have others recognize in me after sifting through women’s online profiles on such fantastical dating resources such as Plenty of Whales Fish and OK U-Bid Cupid. But don’t think I’m such a rare bird, because amazingly enough, if you’re reading this blog, you’re probably a Prince too! And you didn’t even realize it did you?

You see, virtually all the women you encounter on these Buffers online dating resources are simply undiscovered, under-appreciated jewels in the rough. They’re Princesses, and goddammit they deserve to be treated as such. Just reading through each profile is like going on safari and encountering a virtual cornucopia of rare and exotic animals (kind of like a zoo), each meticulously described in encyclopedic detail of their uniqueness and rarity of finding. What mere mortal man could possibly deserve to touch such feminine refinery?

A few years ago the denizens of the SoSuave forum accidentally conducted one of the most humorous social experiments ever performed. A member by the handle of Bonhomme was a frequenter of Plenty of Fish and noticed an interesting trend in women’s profiles. Though most of the women using online dating run the gamut from hopelessly fat to 2-drink fuckability, the one thing most had in common was an entirely overblown sense of self-worth to compliment their grossly overrated self-impression of their sexual market value (SMV for those of you playing the home game). This is nothing shocking for unplugged Men; the ‘community’ has long held that social media and online Buffers work in tandem to convince a woman she’s 1 to 2 degrees higher on her SMV scale. What hadn’t been studied up to then was the descriptors and qualifications that online women used in both their “list of demands” and their own self-evaluations, or “the brochure of value added features” any man with common sense (see fem-centric conditioning) would ever be considered a ‘Man’ for appreciating in a woman.

The following is an example pulled from a typical profile:

Here is a well thought out idea of what kind of guy I am interested in… 5’10” or taller, lives near by, compassionate, intelligent, giving, VERY Attractive (someone other than your mother or sister has said so, lol) and in shape, prefer self employed, FAMILY orientated, open to new spontaneous things, likes to camp, likes to golf, wants children, would be a good father and faithful husband, a gentleman, gives me my space when I need it, not a nerd or too sarcastic, can take a hint, social, calls for no reason, remembers sending a note or a nominal gift IS romantic and necessary, respectful, sense of humor, and thinks the world of me. I am not interested in anyone older than 41 and anyone who makes less money than me since I do not plan on changing the lifestyle I have grown accustom to and hope to one day be a stay at home mom and furthermore… my children will never want for ANYTHING (but of course will not be spoiled brats either lol). You should also love animals  I am not attracted to red heads at all lol sorry.

Wow! A rare find indeed. Thank heaven for the internet in providing men such a valuable resource that we might encounter such rational and strong women as this. This is one common example, but by far the most common self-references women made involved the word “Princess” – “I’m a Princess waiting for my Prince” or “I’ll admit it, I’m a Princess, I just need to find a man who can appreciate that and treat me right.”

Well, far be it from Rollo J. Tomassi to deny these undiscovered royals their due! Quickly I began to craft a cunning profile of my own; one which these pouting Princesses would surely recognize as that of none other than the Crown Prince of Man-dom. Using their own profile’s jingoisms and idioms as a template, I established an idealized persona, one that any woman worth her equalist “common sense” salt would instantly be irresistible to,…

Here is a well thought out idea of what kind of gal I am interested in…5′ 5″ or taller, but not over 6 feet (because while I don’t mind being eye to eye with you, I won’t ever be looking up to you), lives close enough to be at my house within 10 minutes after I make the call, genuinely passionate, intelligent enough to be good company, sexually available (preferably insatiable) and VERY attractive – we’re talking Jessica Alba, Keyra Augustina attractive – women with a body-fat percentage higher than 8% need not apply. Must be employed but not so well as you’ll interfere with our sexual activities, FAMILY oriented, but only after you’ve hit 30-33, open to spontaneous sex (you know, like outdoor stuff or a surprise 3 way with one of your hot girlfriends after our 2nd martini), likes to camp (in the nude), knows not to complain when I go play golf with the clients from work.

She must want children after 33 years of age if at all, and only after she’s proven to be a good mother and faithful wife, must be a lady with class and know when the right time is to speak and not to speak, not a prude or bitch, can take the first hint, sociable, unexpectedly texts me pictures of her wearing something new from Fredericks of Hollywood, understands that the best gift she can give me is expressing her desire to fuck me like a wild animal, and also understands that gifts for her are treats or rewards for desired behavior.

Must be respectful of my decisions being final, can’t take herself too seriously and thinks the world of me. I’m not interested in anyone over 31 (since this is most women’s expiration date anyway), she cannot have exorbitant spending habits or a credit debtload in excess of $1,000 since I do not plan on changing the lifestyle I have grown accustom to and hope to one day be able to send my own children to college (rather than pay for your student debt), and furthermore… my children will be taught to reasonably earn their achievements on their own and respect the decisions of their Father and mother (and absolutely will not be spoiled brats either). I’m very attracted to redheads, blondes, brunettes, Latinas, Asians, African-Americans, Pacific Islanders, etc., pretty much any woman that meets my physical requirements. I am not attracted at all to even slightly fat women no matter how much “inner beauty” you think you may possess. Hope to meet you soon, your Prince.

There! What woman could possible fail to appreciate all of the qualities of a Prince based on their very own template? Insidious, clever and witty. All I had to do was await what could only be a landslide of returned affection and positive responses. I contemplated how I would have to let down the poor cast off Princesses who failed to meet my humble criteria as the first response came in,…

“I read your profile, and is any of it serious?????”

A bit perturbed I reply,

Why do you think it’s not serious? Am I not allowed to be a bit specific?

“Sorry not about to put up with your kind of shit.”

Strange and yet strange again. Here I’d learned that self-confidence and assertiveness were traits women admired in the land of gender-equalism. Ah, perhaps this Princess was a bit jaded by such a dearth of qualified Princes at her disposal. I waited a bit more and was rewarded by a Princess called ‘Lil Sweet Heart’ who’d randomly read my glowing self-description,..

“what a profile
see iam a strong willed person!!
i speak when i want to say what i want and when i want and the way ur profile sounds i dont we;d be a match and the part about raising a spoiled brat thats a hard one to over come depends what u see as spoiled sure my boys r a bit spoiled well a lot but thats the way i was raised and it did me no wrong my kids know that they have to work to earn their spending and treats but no reason why a parent cant buy something just because so maybe ur profile can off wrong but my feeling is not some one id wanna meet hmmmmm”

Egads! I respond,

“Honestly, I really tried to read your message to me, but all of the bastardized English and the run-on sentences made it virtually impossible to understand what you were trying to say.”

I do say. Whomever this royal child’s au pair was is deserving of a public scourging! The thought of so ill-preparing a Princess for courtly discourse with the Man who will one day be her King is inexcusable. Bah, the blazes with this one, I’ll be patient on another,..

“uh, yeah, i don’t think so. maybe your profile’s a joke (which would make it less sad), but i don’t find it amusing, not my sense of humour at all.and the fact that i’m even bothering to reply to say no, rather than just ignore you, should tell you how distasteful it is.happy hunting. (though you’d have better luck if you went back in time 100 years or so, have fun finding chics like that today)

After checking out your profile, you are one of the rudest people i’ve even encountered. In your dreams…”

Hmm, I was beginning to see a flaw in my profile design. You see I had simply reworded the profile of my original Princess’ profile and changed the gender specific terms to the masculine, while adding a bit of my own desires to the outline of the ideal Princess I’d like to meet. After all, they all want to be treated like Princesses, I’m just asking to be treated like a Prince. But,..perhaps I’d been remiss in my waiting for the Princesses to respond. How unmanning of me – I would seek out my prize and pursue her. This profile caught my eye,…

“I am friendly, outgoing, generous, loyal, honest and adventurous. I work in a hospital. I also drive and have my own car.
I love to get my nails done every two weeks. I love fashion and style. I care about pop culture and social issues.
I have an IQ of 146. I am extremely intelligent and educated.

First Date: I dont want to meet Cheaters, users, players, haters, crumb bumbs, guys who want booty calls or fuk buddies… ya’ll dont let the door hit cha on the way out… I guess Im looking to meet someone around my own age, who is taller than me preferably caucasian, attractive, who likes to work out, has a unique, ghetto and sarcastic sense of humor like me.”

Well, not the ideal prize I’d been seeking, but perhaps this was another jewel in the rough that just needed a bit of spit and polish. I respond in the affirmative to her brassy, assertive equalist nature. After reading my profile, she responds,..

“i mak emy own moneya nd pay for own 5hit.. and for someone with such high standards take a good look in the mirror becuz these girls aka jessica alba are way out of ur league… if u want someone who is hot at least BE hot urself!”

I found this confusing since I had no picture on my profile at this point. I’d have to address that, but strange that the assumption was that my physical stature would necessarily be inadequate for her. I respond,..

“Dear woman, for someone with such a high opinion of her intelligence your grammar, punctuation and syntax are far from reflecting this. You type like shite.”

What I’d found most entertaining of this whole affair is that these women somehow feel compelled to respond to the profile. As if it were some personal affront to their sensibilities that it should need their attention to correct, rather than simply move on to the next profile. Judging from the frequency and intensity of the responses, how many men do you suppose responded to the original woman’s profile with the same fervor?

One of the best ways to illustrate how insaturated feminization has become in society is to flip the gender script on certain gender-specific dynamics. As funny as all this was, it serves to show that women live and operate in gender assumptions that they simply take as normalized conditions. Were a Man to publicly expect the terms and demands for his own provisioning and intimate access that women demand without an afterthought, he’s instantly accused of misogyny at worst, comedy at best. There are many more dynamics that illustrate this fem-centric normalization. My critics get fits of hysteria when I describe the acculturated, feminine-centric undercurrent operating in society. Girl-world is the only world for them, so pulling back the iron-veil of the feminine reality like this is usually a hard revelation. Ironically it’s the vitriol engendered in the responses to my reworded profile that prove the point.