You’ll Need More Than Just Your Vagina to Compete with the Future (NSFW)

I present to you a cautionary tale and a long laugh that was as fun to write as i hope it is fun to read. It’s lengthy and pic heavy but i think it might just make your day and raise some interesting and thought provoking discussion. At the very least it allowed me to be gratuitous with the pic and vid links. Please not, this post is most certainly NOT SAFE for work, or around kids, or Lindsay West.

You’ve been warned.

Ok, we’ve all talked about sexbots till we’re blue in the face. However, these are not actual sexbots, but software.

And if you don’t think this has dire implications down the road, you got another thing coming.

The Asians are hard at work making their hardcore Hentai/Anime porn look as photo-realistic as possible.

Picture this scenario:

Throughout the day you’ve been bombarded with ads on TV for Axe body spray, you’ve passed by the newstand and seen the latest cover of MAXIM, you went into the convenience store and noticed the HUSTLER on the rack, your female coworker decided to wear those red pumps and shorter pencil skirt today, and you fantasized about taking her in the broom closet, you went to the gym and couldn’t help notice the tight girls doing their yoga stretches, the cash girl at the coffee shop was extra bubbly and smiled extra hard when you ordered your brew on the way home and you couldn’t help but notice the billboard on the highway for SPIKE TV displaying a tight toned female stomach covered in water beads beside a .50 caliber sniper rifle. By the time you pulled into the driveway and bumped into your neighbors hot wife bouncing by during her jog.. your prostate is pretty much pounding the shit out of your insides demanding you release the pressure.

After this particularily hard grueling day, you come home, to an empty house, throw your keys on the coffee table, put your briefcase down, sit on the couch, verbally say ‘Xbox ON’, put on the goggles, sit back relax.

The Kinect controller recognizes your face, along with your pulse, heart rate, stress levels, pupil dialation, body temperature and rate of breathing, etc… a virtual tricorder of knowing what state your body is, how much tension you have pent up, and how badly it needs to be released.

And it has the perfect digital simulation to help you out with that little conundrum.

The doctor will see you now!

My stance on Fat Shaming

A lot has been said about the fat girl who posed with the slim built guy in protest of Abercrobie&Fitch.

I’m going to keep this short.

No one should be made to feel horrible or ashamed for how they look. No one. I don’t shame anyone for being fat in and of itself.

I have a problem with hypocrites tho, those who pretend to take a stand of sorts, which is standing for inequality and doing the easy thing.. not the hard thing.

No one can claim to deign what is and isn’t attractive to another human being. This is the lesson of the manosphere. Attraction just is. You being angry because a guy doesn’t find you sexually appealing because you are fat is no different than you not being attracted to the guy who lives in his moms basement at the age of 35 while playing WoW on Xbox and Dungeons and Dragons on the weekend.

I am saying this because i have never gone out of my way to intentionally harm someone else’s esteem, especially those who know their esteem is already low. It’s like kicking  lame horse.

There was a time when i was kicked. For both being fat, and for being the beta unattractive loser unworthy of a relationship.

So i get it.

I also keep stressing i know many people in real life, who are ‘big’.. who are the nicest people you would meet. Perhaps humility and humble come from adversity, and never having had the silver spoon in the mouth. Just a theory.

But..

Here’s my problem with the whole Militant Baker protest.

Confessions of a Reformed InCel

[UPDATE 4-26-2018]

It’s been almost 4 years since i left this space of the internet. It’s been almost 6 years since i wrote the below post.

A lot changes with time away from the sphere. I’ve lived a normal life, with a great gal in a ‘normal’ family setting, engaging with society, a totally different man that the one 4, 6, 10+ years ago. Had i not taken that journey, a cathartic one no doubt, who knows where i could have ended up. You couldn’t really write a better ending for the journey i took from the mouth of Hell back to normality.

And then Monday happens. April 23, 2018 at 1:24pm. A beautiful, warm sunny day not unlike the kind 9/11 is remembered for.

I want to state this right off the bat for the record. My heart and my sympathies go out to every individual affected by the Van assault mass murder by the person who i will not name. I won’t acknowledge the killer or immortalize him. Not only do i not condone his actions, i condemn them as strongly as i can condemn anything. He is a coward.

At the height of my depression, at the lowest point in my life being incel, i never considered violence against anyone but myself. Even then i realized that ones actions don’t exist in a bubble, and that every action you apply resonates beyond whatever you’re looking at. But for this individual, he crossed into the dangerous territory where his focus was not to look at others as people who have family and friends and coworkers who will be impacted and grieve. All he saw was a society that isolated him, did not care to help him but instead ridiculed him, and decided that since he lost in the game of life.. he was going to drag as many to the bottom with him before he died. Ultimately he even failed at suicide, which is somewhat ironic.. confirming his failure at everything.

I know somewhere on my blog, there are comments by me, denouncing Elliot Rogers. (I should have made a post, and if i didn’t that would be a glaring oversight on my part). While i have the ultimate empathy for true suffering incels, who have gone without the basic and primal human connection one can have with the opposite sex.. i have NO SYMPATHY whatsoever for those who take that pain and decide to unleash it on others. Those innocent people Elliot shot were not the cause of Elliots incelness. Elliots unwillingness to embrace TRP hard truths were the source of his pain. The people that were run down on Monday in Toronto, so very close to home to me and the ones i love, who could easily have been in his bombsights on any given day, were not the cause of this individuals alleged incelness. An unwillingness to try to become better than he was, was the cause of it.

It was their absolute lack of trying to change to be something better. Or maybe worse, they were just broken and irreparable from the start. I try to believe everyone can be saved.. but who knows anymore. When i watched the video’s of Elliot Roger come out, i sat there horrified. In another life, that *might* have ended up being me had i not course corrected. I wondered if the chance could ever occur, was there something myself.. or anyone much more suited like Rollo, could ever have said to snap him out of his delusional angst? You could see it in his eyes on the videos.. this one is too far gone to help. If you ever wanted to see what ‘entitled to womens bodies’ actually looks like, stare at Elliots face. Most incels don’t feel entitled.. they feel like they’ve been left out of the party everyone else is having. Entitled is crashing the party and ruining it for everyone else.

TRP takes many forms. Early on i decided i wanted to take the ‘become the best you that you can be’ mantra version. I didn’t want to ‘game’ for hookups, i wanted to invest in myself, to truly change who i was so i could confidently command the asking price rather than beg for crumbs. Rollo very recently discussed how many come to TRP and complain they wont be able to carry on ‘the act’. He explained how when he applied it and internalized it, it became part of who he was and second nature, and it was no longer an act, it was just him. That’s the part i tried to emulate.. to take the lessons, and apply them and use them until it no longer felt like i’m pretending to be someone i’m not. But you have to try, and make the time and put in the effort. And you have to have realistic expectations to boot. I will never be Ryan Reynolds or Channing Tatum in looks.. but on the range of unattainable beauty standards, and where i started, i hit a happy medium i was proud of. Can i go further? Sure, but thats my call, not societies.

But you still need to put in the work. Even if you can’t reach the ideal, strive for it. The whole concept of ‘you’re perfect just the way you are’ needs to die. Can you imagine how much Elliot might have thought that about himself? Or the van murderer? If you are unhappy, the only person who can do something about that is YOU. No one else. And telling unhappy people that they’re ok as they are is a recipe for disaster.

I still have complete empathy for the incel community, but i want to hope that the ones who reach the TRP message take the right, and not the wrong lessons from this. Become better, knowledge is power, but apply it properly and dont expect a quick fix! Looking at my ancient story below, you will notice that the happy ending does not occur right away, but years later once the core tenets of TRP are internalized and applied. Shorcuts often lead to more anguish in this regard.

As much as this tragedy has personally disturbed me to the core, i am equally troubled by the way some of the media outlets are handling this. While undoubtedly there are many misogynistic incels (whom you still need to reach out to in order to quell the rage), there are equally harmless ones, confused ones, and angry ones who simply learn for the first time they’ve been playing by the wrong set of books. Were we to actually engage with incels in a real fashion, and first acknowledge that YES, it is debilitating, humiliating and emotionally devastating to the individuals who suffer through it.. we need to actually engage with them without judgement of how and why they got there, and realistically work with them in an honest fashion to help them overcome their problems. Chastising them, yelling at them, mischaracterizing them or applying blanket misogyny labels upon them – WILL NOT – i repeat, will not bring them into the open to educate, treat, rehab or reform them. It will drive them further into darkness where you just might start producing more of these emotionally spent, dead eyed, uncaring, lay waste to the world, reproductive losers in the game of life.. dehumanize everyone surrounding them. They go on to become the next one. Their rationalization is so apparent, i don’t understand why no one can see it.

They spend their entire lives isolated, in pain, wondering what about them is so wrong as to never be desired. It’s not obvious to them, otherwise they’d have done something. Or they’ve been enabled by liars who tell them they’re perfect as they are, to just be themselves. And yet, being themselves only incites ridicule from others, taunting, jeers and derision. Once this isolation hits a peak, they no longer see people around them as people, they see them as abusers. Everyone who is having a good time, smiling, laughing, enjoying life, having lives, having sexual relationships, having romance, sharing emotions.. all in front of the face of the one who is told ‘no, not for you, you can’t play with us’. There are some who are ok with this, accept their lot in life, and stay there. There are other who decide to change themselves so they too can join the game. And finally, there are the Elliots and Toronto van murderer who decide that if they can’t enjoy this life like others can, they’re gonna ruin it for the rest of us. That’s it in a nutshell.

My one wish is that this issue is examined without the polarization we see in todays politics of left and right, where each side screams at the other saying ‘you’re wrong’ and nothing happens except a race to the bottom. You can’t expect people to come to you for help when you’re going to demonize them from the outset. That needs to stop. Incels need help. What that help is and how it reaches them is another discussion altogether. But it’s one that needs to happen to keep shit like this from repeating.

I have not enough words of condolence i can give to the innocents who were taken, and the lives of everyone else who will be affected by their loss. This tragedy hit too close to home.

It could have been me. It could have been me in front of that van on any other routine day. It could have been my family, my friends, my coworkers, anyone i love and care about. It is still surreal that this happened at all.

I also shudder to think ‘could it have been me’ inside the van behind the wheel,.. had i not found TRP and changed my life instead of believing the pretty lies of others. Was i ever capable, would enough time in hell for me produce a similar fate? I don’t ever want to know.

I grieve with Toronto for those who were lost, i have to hope it never happens again. Most of all, that will require changing the way we talk about this issue.

…

[EDIT – Days after Elliot Roger murders: For anyone new coming here from The Daily Dot, Reddit, Ask Men or anywhere else. Once you are finished reading this piece (due to the interest since the Elliot Rogers murders) and you get all your feathers ruffled about the ‘feelings’ section, please head over HERE for understanding the proper context lest you get your panties in a bunch. If you assume the language was written as intent rather than contextualizing what would be required to have women stripped of their natural biological advantage of being noticed solely for the fact they are female – then i can’t help you or you comprehension skills. peace the fuck out]

…

[ORIGINAL POST BEGINS]

November 17, 2012. enough is enough. i warned y’all it might get depressing. here goes. don’t worry, it ends well. i think.

+++

In honor of my 10,000th view.. i’m going to publish what i consider the hardest post i’ve ever written. But it needs to be written, for i may be an extreme, i know i’m not alone. This isn’t written for the PUA or the Alpha or the Pussy Slayer™. This is written for you, the one without hope..  to know there is hope and you can get better.

Thanks for the hits guys! Snapshot taken 07/09/12 at 2:33 pm after 3 weeks on the interwebz.

[actually no.. i’ve crossed 50k. that’s how long i’ve been holding onto this draft, terrified of letting it go. but i saw a comment today that finally let me pull the trigger.]

It is so Very hard to hit that PUBLISH button.

Writing this post is a source of *shame* for me. It’s been sitting in my drafts for about 2 weeks [edit: 5+ months actually]…

But at this point in my life having endured what i have, it does not trouble me putting it out in the sphere. I am sure i am not alone in this and that this post will actually help someone out there. Some of you may relate. Women hopefully may finally understand where my anger and cynicism stems from.

So i’ve decided to unleash it. [about time?]

Firstly, before you continue, please go read THIS POST. [Edit Apr.30,2014: Due to the explosion of traffic from AskMen, I have noticed this post is no longer available, so i will instead invite you to go read THIS POST instead ] No offense to the author, my past wasn’t her fault.. but it struck the usual nerve with me. You need to read posts like this to let the feeling of inequality fill you up.

Welcome back..

When i read it or stories like it, these are the THINGS I FEEL (and yes, i know ‘feelings’ are the domain of a woman)

• When i hear a woman tell me that she’s gone through a dry spell and not had sex in over X weeks/ months.. i feel like putting my fist through her face.
• When i hear a woman tell me that she feels ugly or unloved or unwanted because her partner hasn’t touched her in over 6 months, i feel like laughing loudly 3 inches from her face.
• When i hear a woman tell me that she just picked up a random guy for a night of fun because she was lonely, i feel like i’m glad i don’t own a gun.
• When i hear a woman tell me that i shouldn’t feel bad about having gone without for so long, after all it’s only just sex, i feel like disfiguring her face with a scalpel.

Nature’s cruel joke and cosmic irony in one. I as a man, biologically driven365 days a year to ejaculate and produce sperm as often as possible, and having the drive and desire to want it every waning moment, who is villified for this natural urge and made to feel ashamed of my sexuality, control it and subdue it to conform to the feminine imperative… have to listen to women, who in their solipsism cannot fathom the ordeal of what i’m about to write about, women who biologically ovulate and desire sex rather infrequently compared to men, talk about, no celebrate their sexuality, their urges and desires.. and lament their short dry spells as if the world were coming to an end. They can never understand what a power differential there is in these urges.

Women can say they love sex just as much as men. I would call BS. Until there is a glut of male prostitutes, male escorts, male rub n tugs for female patrons, a demand for male sex workers and strippers i’ll say nay. Unless they’re all having alpha sex on the side perhaps? Or will touching themselves to 50 shades suffice? At least mommy porn is culturally acceptable. Women DO NOT need sex like men do.. otherwise the sphere would not exist.

Anyways.. back to my pitiful former life.

I have no pictures of myself from a time period stretching from high school to my late 20’s, save for some randoms others might have taken of me. I have no memories or recollections of my time in high school. I have no stories of parties, girlfriends or wild flings. It’s a time period i wiped from my mind, much like PTSD. The only way i can recall it is if i sit down and think really hard about it. I rarely do because i don’t like feeling like shit for the hell of it.

I was that beta/omega/zeta. I let myself get LJBF‘ed on multiple occasions being that ‘nice guy’ that male hating cunt Amanda Marcotte despises. I  played by the rules as handed down to me by the feminine authorities on what women would look for and appreciate in a man. I was asked to believe what they said, not what they did. ‘Just be yourself‘ (your nice beta supplicating self) was the golden code.

So here it is… my Incel Hell.

This is where you will stay for the next 12 years. Enjoy your stay.

<deep breath>

The Revenge of the Few Extra Pounders

Regular reader ‘Stormy’ sent me one of those ‘funny’ ecards that float around the interwebz every now and again along with a stirring question.

“WTF all the fat chicks keep reposting this.”

Good question Stormy. I already answered for you but i’ll delve in deeper as to the why.. and also why it’s so horribly ineffective as ‘a joke’.

Firstly, it’s important to understand possible motive. It boils itself down to a self defense mechanism. The angry victim wants to strike back. There was a time many moons ago when i was not in shape, or popular. I had my own cohort of tormenters ready to pick on me. If you’re being constantly harassed, it’s easier to create a fault in your tormenter and focus on it, rather than look inward and see whether your harasser has a valid point, albeit presenting that point very poorly. And even then, your harasser is just that.. and individual, not a society or class of people. Sometimes people forget this.

Why?

Because it’s simply an easier way of dehumanizing their real or perceived abusers. The only way you feel better is by finding or creating out of thin air, something wrong about who you think is holding you down, projecting it over everyone who fits that type per-emptively and making fun of them to build yourself up as being morally, ethically or genuinely superior, especially by adding in the God bit at the end of it. I mean, if God is on your side, how could you possibly be in the wrong? God had to divvy between awesome looks and awesome personality, so it must suck to be a hottie when the big girls have all that awesomeness unto themselves.

But where this one fails horribly is this… i have never found a girl to be hysterical. Funny yes, but not hysterical. If they laughed at my jokes, then they were awesome. Brilliant? I’ve met girls much smarter than me. I like smart girls. I think it’s a great bonus if i could talk about philosophy or current events and not worry about them forgetting to change the oil in the car or put a peanut butter sandwich in the Bluray player. Smarts are great, oversmart not so much. Brilliance is in the eye of the beholder and if played poorly, it becomes a negative trait in the blink of an eye. BUT it was never was my primary interest for wanting to hookup with a woman. I’m a LOOKS first, ask questions late type of guy.

So that slogan really doesn’t do anything, ANYTHING to help their cause and only reaffirms that size 2 women are the type to be around. The careful wordplay tries to make it sound like an insult, like size 2 women are stupid and unsociable. If only the land whales posting these slogan cards actually understood gender properly. This is intrasexual competition at it’s finest. They know that in the looks department they are woefully handicapped in the mate selection department. They’re basically holding the door while the pretty ones get first dibs. They’re pissed. So instead of either:

Fat Acceptance. I didn’t get it.. so why should you?

Funny how it goes.

When i was fat and out of shape.. all the girls didn’t pay any attention to me, nor did they care. It wasn’t acceptable then. (Nor did it matter when i was skinny with no muscles, or when i was too beta.. but those are for another day)

Now that Game has flipped the script, and MGTOW won’t tolerate women who don’t bother to keep a healthy weight or appearance… we have the fad of ‘Fat Acceptance’ springing up like Krispy Kreme outlets in the early 2000’s.

Where was the love from my fellow womenfolk when i had a gut? Where was NAAFA?

I’m one of the last people to harp on others for the way they look. My motto is ‘do no harm’. People go through enough crap in their lives.. i don’t need to pile on to it. But i do preach to people to change what they can, fuck the rest. I don’t ask people to get cosmetic surgery to look beautiful. But controlling your weight isn’t rocket science. It’s simple discipline and self control, and a little movement here and there.

Yet.. you are asking me to ACCEPT a very backwards idea.

You are asking me to accept that you simply do not want to put in the effort to get healthy and shed weight. And by effort i don’t mean choosing a low-fat dressing to go on your KFC chicken salad or chewing on ‘flax seed’ bars or having a diet cola with your Big Mac.

You’re asking me to accept that you wish to remain in an unhealthy state that will cost everyone else down the road.

If you want to remain that way and then by all means eat another McDonald’s OREO pie, be my guest. I won’t make fun of you for being obese. I was there once, and ridiculed for it mercilessly (by women i might add) so my humility becomes me.

Yes folks.. that’s not a type-o. OREO baked pies.

But i won’t be attracted to you either. Most other folk wont too. And you can’t expect them to get over that. Attraction goes beyond ‘what’s on the inside’. Initial attraction is SKIN DEEP. Don’t tell me i’m shallow for not wanting to to be intimate with an overweight woman.

And while we’re at it, if you’re not willing to put in the effort required to get healthy then:
[updated list with links]

• do not be incensed if we ask that you pay more for insurance premiums. you will sack our health care reserves quicker than most
• do not be insulted if the airline makes you buy 2 tickets or adds a ‘fat’ surcharge because you are making the plane burn more fuel and removing one extra customer off that flight
• do not be flippant when you are turned down for a job where presentable appearance is required, or productivity is hampered by your inability to move quickly and efficiently
• do not get angry when people give you dirty looks for getting to park in a handicap spot for physically disabled people when you have the means and ability to overcome it. Spinal cord injuries not so much.
• etc.

To round out this post, i just want to link to a comment from over at HUS that the great Obsidian pointed to in regards to hard truths women have been denied because no one will discuss it to them. The lies of feminism telling both boys and girls to ‘be yourself, accept your body, love who you are and someone will love you too’ was immolated by this comment from a female who sees the lies for what they were. You can read the comment here.

Fat doesn’t have to be mocked, there’s no reason to make a persons life harder. But it doesn’t have to be accepted either. I don’t have to make fun of you, but don’t sit there and expect me be attracted to something i can’t get it up for. That’s not a design flaw in me.

Shit like this doesn’t help:

Why you should work out, Part Deux

So here i am sitting in a puddle of my own sweat drinking a cool down drink to recapture some of my fluids i’ve released all over the floor like a drunken slug.

I can’t stop dripping. It’s unsightly.. think of the senator from X-Men, the one who Magneto irradiates and his genes get messed up. Just before he dies he turns into a big body sack of water before he simply pops and drains away.

Just keep pushing play!

That’s me, right now.

The city is in a record heat wave. I picked the worst day in the world to do Plyometrics, or PlyoX as it’s affectionately known as.

“PLYO X…  I HATE IT, BUT I LOVE IT!”
-Tony Horton

Not too long ago i wrote about why you should start working out, at least from my own perspective and life’s experience, yours may differ. But something happened today that i thought i’d share which is another reason to start working out.

At work today, a coworker bought a 4 pack of some delicious looking ‘Drumstick‘ ice cream cones. Strawberry Cheesecake flavor with ‘Extra fudge‘ in the cone. Man it looked sweet, specially on a putrid 35 C degree day. Since i swore off sugar and excess fat this should have been easy.. but even i turned the box over to read it’s (and i use the term loosely) ‘nutritional‘ contents. Even my mind was starting to rationalize letting me eat one.

Per Drumstick
Calories: 210
Fat: 8 grams
Sugar: 23 grams

On the surface, this isn’t the worst possible snack. And considering the heat, and the overall super low volume of junk i consume, i could very well have justified it. Even all my colleagues were egging me on saying one wouldn’t kill me or stop my progress. And they’re right. One won’t.

But one can so easily and quickly devolve into two, then four, then a few, and so on. Every slippery slope starts with one, especially when there’s peer pressure involved.

I politely declined and that was the end of it. Then my one colleague who is also working hard to lose weight, who also turned down the drumstick looked at me and said:

Why you should start working out

So you never get any doubts in your head that you are being passed over because you look like a slob.

That’s why i did it. You might agree or disagree but in the end it did the trick.

I got tired of looking at other guys around me, all seemingly fit and muscled up. All things being equal, i was at a disadvantage in the body shape department.

I was 190lbs when i left my former life. A tight belt size 38 waist. I wasn’t morbidly obese, but i did roll over my belt. Even tho i usually dressed well enough to conceal it, i certainly didn’t feel so hot with my shirt off and if i didn’t like it, i knew women wouldn’t lust after it either. I smoked, i was weazy and out of breath, hurt my lower back often, and really lazy.

My body image was my mental handicap. Without changing it, nothing else was going to help.

Shameless plug, but so worth it!

I started on p90x shortly after my marriage kerplunkt. I was determined. I nailed my wedding ring to the wall and made a vow that anytime i felt like quitting, i would look at that fucking ring and draw strength to continue. I was determined to get to Jason Stackhouse levels of Vampire Diaries fame. I’d like to think i’m getting close (those damn abs are elusive). I’m 160lbs, size 32 waist (i almost cried when i got there) clothes fit nice, snug and tight to the body, shadows produce great muscle tone, bumps and divets, i have so much more energy and stamina and strength. And i know i fucking look good to myself. You may differ in opinion but fuck you, mine’s the only one that matters right now.