Let’s Give SJWs a Taste of Their Own “Logic”

Everyone in North America is encouraged to be proud of whatever they are…UNLESS they are a white male heterosexual. And that’s kinda’ funny, because if you’re gonna subscribe to group/tribal identity, that particular demographic has a whole lot more bragging rights than any other.

All I can say to Bill Whittle is “Touche, bro!”

I don’t know why the video clip is cut off right where it is. If it had gone on for another second, you’d have seen the entitled female thought cop shoving her hand into the camera, blacking out the frame in classic Nazi fashion.

In actuality she was probably trying to grab the smartphone to destroy it or edit out the evidence of her behavior. The fact that the footage survived and was uploaded to Youtube means that one of the pantywaist millenials on the scene must have grown a pair and fended her off. Sadly, just the act of doing so ran the risk of arrest by the campus police–she would have made an accusation of assault or rape or similar when the owner of the device didn’t comply with her demands, and her victims would have been automatically assumed guilty.

If they didn’t have video evidence of what really happened.

Warfighters, Patriots, and Masculinity

Quintus Curtius at ROK asks the question, “Why Does America Lack A ‘Warrior-Patriot’ Ethic?

He answers this well into the article.

America has spent the past forty years shaming and denigrating that ethic by systematically removing masculine virtue from the public sphere.

Unfortunately, he only answers half of the question.

An observant, intelligent, and honest person won’t deny that true masculinity is villified at every turn in our increasingly toxic culture.  This is pretty well documented in the manosphere. The post handles that aspect well. But what about the patriotic aspect?

Whether inside or outside warrior circles, American patriots today comprise a marginalized counterculture.  Only in America are people who love their country demonized by the establishment, mainstream media, the education cartel, pop culture, and the average Joe.

We’ve learned contempt for the American republic from all the above, beating The Narrative into our heads everywhere we go, all our lives. Finding the information to overturn all this conditioning is still possible, and not yet even all that difficult…but few citizens of this country, including “conservatives” (whatever that means) ever do discover the antidote to the anti-American worldview.

The elites have not only poisoned and confused the warrior-patriot ethic, they’ve fundamentally transformed our armed forces into a hostile environment for warrior-patriots. And their social engineering plus ubiquitous propaganda has just about driven the American warrior-patriot to extinction.

Partially on-topic is this new clip from InfoWars. Alex Jones touches on how feminization is being used to destroy the effectiveness of the Armed Forces. He also touches on drones–to include replacing human ground troops with robots.

The Whitewashing of Bill Clinton is Complete

The alternative media first grew some teeth during the Clinton Administration. Nevertheless, cucks and even the “alt right” have been programmed to believe Slick Willie’s only (or worst) crime was his perjury concerning a blowjob he received from an intern in the Oval Office.

Before Hussein occupied the White House, American politics had never seen anyone as corrupt as the Clintons, or any politician who could get away scot-free with so many blatant abuses.

Putting aside, for the moment, the Clinton’s rap sheet from Arkansas, here are just a few items from Blythe’s legacy that have been censored out of recent history:

  • Trading military secrets to Red China in exchange for campaign contributions. This was high treason, period. But once caught, the Democrat and mainstream media (but I repeat myself) spin doctors deflected any scrutiny of the Teflon Traitor by concocting a narrative that the real problem was in rules about campaign donations. In impressive Hegelian fashion, they got “Campaign Finance Reform” codified into something more accurately known as “The Incumbent Protection Bill,” making it harder for grass roots voter movements to compete with the elites like George Soros; David Rockafeller, Warren Buffet, Henry Kissinger, et al.
  • Letting the Red Chinese raid the US Patent Office. Slave labor, suicidal (on the US side) trade policies and selective environmental policing weren’t enough of an advantage for the mass murderers in Beijing. They must also be allowed to steal the inventions and ideas of Americans with no redress of grievances.
  • Using the FBI to spy on, intimidate and silence his political opposition in Congress. This was a precedent, by the way. Think of how the IRS has been a tool Hussein uses to intimidate and silence his enemies in the electorate.
  • The immolation of men, women and children after using platoons of federal troops, helicopters and armored vehicles to lay siege to peaceful civilians. The siege began with a shoot first, knock later, “search” of a home and church based on a dubious warrant after previous attempts to entrap and incriminate the victims had all proven baseless.
  • The lame duck presidential pardon of multiple criminals whom the Clintons owed favors for committing perjury to shield the Clintons from criminal investigations.
  • The theft of furnishings from the White House upon leaving office.

These are just a few examples of the high crimes (though I guess the last one was really just a petty crime) and treason committed by the Teflon Traitor as president.

He also gets (and gladly accepts) credit for the economic recovery which began before the ’92 election, which his policies slowed down. Same thing with the “balanced budgets” and renewal of the recovery orchestrated by the “Contract With America” Congressional majority elected in 1994. He fought against them every step of the way, yet receives the credit for their accomplishments.

And in a coup of unprecedented proportions, Clinton’s allies on both sides of the aisle appointed as an “independent council” (to investigate Whitewater and his other scandals as Governor of Arkansas), leftist idealogue and closet Clintonista Ken Starr, lawyer to the middleman in the treasonous deal with the Red Chinese. Predictably, the “investigation” was just another layer of coverup.

Remember, the Chinese have been preparing for a war with us they believe is inevitable, and during these same years they threatened to nuke our west coast. Thanks to Clinton, that is no longer a laughable threat.

The Monica Lewinski scandal was and is just a smokescreen to hide Willie’s crimes against we the people–they used one of his minor scandals to distract us from all the major scandals. It’s sad how effective this strategy is, even on those who fancy themselves as red pill.

Out of the Past

There are several different ideas about what film noir is and isn’t, and you can hear a lot of them on youtube.

The best interpretation of the French term would probably be phrased “dark cinema” in English. Here are some of the requirements as I learned them:

  • Shot in black & white.
  • Dark, moody lighting.
  • Made in the postwar years.
  • Featuring a femme fatale.
  • A very cynical outlook.

(Wow–sounds like a genre custom made for the red pill manosphere.)

This classic masterpiece written by Daniel Mainwaring and directed by Jacques Tourneur fits the criteria pretty well. Whatever someone’s chosen definition of film noir, Out of the Past is universally accepted.

This movie has much in common with The Maltese Falcon–another classic masterpiece I highly recommend (and the most I’ve liked Humphry Bogart in any flick).

Jeff Marcum (Robert Mitchum) is a tough private detective who comes off smart, is never at a loss for words and seems to have rock solid frame control. You would assume him to be an alpha…until he meets Kathie (Jane Greer).

Mitchum Greer 1
Historical day game–he thinks he’s acing it; but really he’s entangling himself in the web of a black widow.

He completely lets his frame crumble; places Kathie on a pedestal; falls for her lies and reverse game (I’ve never seen a reference in the manosphere to women using game…but they do, and here’s an example); double-crosses his client; flushes his career down the toilet; and ultimately has to go into hiding, assuming a new identity, after realizing he’s been used to help Kathie avoid the consequences of her thieving, murdering, deceptive behavior.

At the beginning of the film his name has already been changed to “Jeff Bailey” and he runs a gas station in a small town. He’s found another girl, too–a good one: honest, feminine, submissive…a keeper back then; a unicorn today.

Mitchum Greer
Behind every frustrated chump is a conniving woman.

Kirk Douglas plays Whit, who is ostensibly the villain of the story–but is he, really? He’s the one Kathie played for a chump before Jeff came along. He’s also the client that Jeff double-crossed because of her. One of his henchmen (for lack of a better term) just happened to drive through the small town one day and saw Jeff pumping gas.


Just like that, all Jeff’s sins and foolishness come out of the past to bite him hard, in the present.

The acting is solid all around, and the production values are just plain classy. Though it takes place in a bygone era (when you really could change identities and start a new life), I consider the story timeless.  However, the plot skeleton was transposed into the 1980s for the movie Against All Odds, which is also a good watch.

Is the “Alt Right” Truly the Only Alt(ernative)?

Heartfelt thanks to The Social Pathologist, and his commenters, for putting my Cassandra Complex into remission. And thanks to Free Northerner for my discovery of The Social Pathologist.

(The Cassandra Complex shares space with my Elijah Complex. Thankfully both are in remission, now.)

Our domestic enemies are in the habit of framing our choices for us.

Every election our choices are narrowed down to Socialism vs. Socialism Lite. Anyone who is an actual alternative is destroyed, one way or another.

Our choices in entertainment are:

  • Women/homosexuals are superior to men intellectually (sitcoms).
  • Women/homosexuals are superior to men morally (dramas).
  • Women are superior to men physically (action-adventure).

And so on. Our choices regarding Vietnam were:

  • Continue pouring money and young men’s lives into a “police action” with no strategic objective, that ultimately works against America’s interests.
  • Pull out and ensure that the sacrifices already made were completely in vain (except for how they weakened America and strengthened our enemies).

Never, ever, was the option to fight a war with the intention of winning, and truly pursuing the stated goal: “halting the spread of Communism.”

(Nixon did actually bomb North Vietnam to the peace table, which only provided Congress the excuse to abandon South Vietnam when the Communists predictably broke the treaty.)

Nor has the option ever been “Let’s mind our own business and only sacrifice our fighting men in the defense of our country and its interests.” Not since 1917, anyway.

The actual left-right paradigm is quite different from what you were probably taught.
The actual left-right paradigm is quite different from what you were probably taught.


Now another choice has been framed for us:

There is the traditional “right” (a bunch of NeoCons and Rinos in the pockets of the same oligarchal scumbags who own the Democrats) who consistently (by pure coincidence, of course) lose every significant battle, even when controlling both the Executive and Legislative branches of US government. Plus the normalcy bias-afflicted status quo-worshipers; moderates; and coincidence theorists who vote for them because Fox News tells them anyone better is too radical. Both the office-holding surrender monkeys and their gullible voter base have recently been labeled “cuckservatives” or “cucks” for short.

And now there is the “Alt Right”–those who intentionally lump you together with the cucks if you value individual liberty and representative government higher than racial identity. In other words, the loudest voices in the “Alt Right” are both the mirror image of the goose-stepping collectivist SJWs on the left, and the caricature of a “right-winger” that those goose-stepping collectivist SJWs cling to as a vital component of The Narrative.

If you don’t want to join the hive mind of the left, then your choice is either to assimilate with the socialists in “conservative” drag (NeoCons, RINOs, cucksevatives, the GOPe, etc.); or to buy into white supremacy (also referred to as “Western Civilization” in the white tribalist  blogosphere).

My greatest fear for the dissident right has always been capture by Stormfront entryists. Unfortunately, this seems to have come to pass with the successful influence of Stormfront types  who have successfully (been) able to rebrand themselves as the alt-Right.

“Stormfront” is probably a good euphemism for these “Western Civilization!” screaming individuals who seem to be reading from a script written by Marxists who want there to be no reasonable alternatives. Evidently “1488” is another term for Neo-Nazis/white supremacists trying to contaminate us by association.

…(H)ow are they even “Right” at all? Pro abortion, Pro Homo, Eugenics, strong anti-capitalism, Anti Christian: how the hell are they even considered right at all?

How indeed? Well, I’ll tell you how. They are considered “right-wing” because we have allowed the left-wing to revise history and redefine what “left” and “right” mean…in addition to their Orwellian redefinitions of terms like “liberal,” “unemployment” and “budget cuts.”

Instead, you were probably taught that left-wing and right-wing are something similar to what's on this chart.
Instead, you were probably taught that left-wing and right-wing are something similar to what’s on this chart.

The “Alt Right” weltanschuang is simplistic, but with an increasing list of addendums. Basically, if you are not a superficial dolt (who can type big words in a comment thread occasionally) whose universe revolves entirely around skin color, then you are no different from the Boehners, Ryans, Bushes, Romneys, McCains, Doles, et al.

What separates the 1488-ers from the radical Left is the subject of race, not much else.

Ah, but skin color is not enough! We can’t forget about the sinister Jooooooooooooos! You may look white, but you’re not racially pure if you happen to be Semitic, and therefore are an enemy regardless of what you actually do, think or say, because WESTERN CIVILIZATION!!!!!!!!!!!

Doesn’t matter that the vast majority of the enemies of freedom are apostate Gentiles, they’ll keep searching for a Jew until they find one. They don’t even notice that the left hates Israel more than they do…

…Most of their reasoning begins and ends with, “Do you even Nazi, brah?”

I hadn’t heard of “NRx” prior to reading the post. But apparently Virtual Pulp is and has been “NRx” from the start, going by the implied definition in the linked post. Still, I would like to know what the letters stand for, before I start using the term.

NRx seemed to provide a space where intelligent ideas could be discussed freely and a rallying point for those intelligent but dissatisfied people of the right. However, with the infusion of the alt-Right, thought policing–admittedly of different kind–has returned with methods of the SJW, driving away the intelligent people.

For the Left, this state of affairs is particularly fortuitous and sometimes you have to wonder if they bring out their alt-Right hitmen every now and then to discredit intelligent Rightists through guilt by association.

I’ve wondered this for a long time, actually.

As pointed out here, previously, the rising tide of white tribalism is fueled by the discrimination mandated and enforced by the “Social Justice” industry.

The real life discrimination against whites is seen as a sort of cosmic Karma for the sins of the past and so many leftists are prepared to accept some discrimination against the whites since they feel it’s a payback for the past. Of course, punishing someone for someone else’s sins is totally unjust, but intellectual consistency isn’t a feature of mob logic. I think quite a few “soft” righties are sympathetic to this view as well.

All this theater is summed up pretty well in this statement:

Nationalism does not have to be toxic. The alt-Right makes it so.

The Trumpening is a Big “Up Yours” to the GOP (Democrat Lite) Establishment

Captain Capitalism nails it once in a while,  as in paragraphs like these, aimed at the Lesser Evil Party:

You couldn’t protect the constitution if your wife’s loyalty depended upon it.

No matter what you say, no matter what politician you throw forth, you have lost 100% of the GENUINE, REAL republican American constituency, and we are now voting for anybody (and I mean ANYBODY) who isn’t a career politician and actually might make a change.

The key thing to understand (and I know that’s hard for you lazy, fat establishment types, not to mention baby boomers who are stuck in the Nixon era) is that no matter how much you HATE and LOATHE Trump, the American republicans HATE AND LOATHE you even more.  They’re sick of your non-performance, they’re sick of your corruption, and they’re sick of you impotence and incompetence.  They are so sick of you they’d rather vote for what is clearly an opportunist over your “best” candidate you present forward because he is at least “different.”


What he (and most Americans) miss is that the pattern of GOP betrayal is not due to well-intentioned buffoonery.  It’s not because “Republican leadership” is incompetent. It’s not because they’re cowards (though they are). It’s not because they’re corrupt in a general sense (though they are). It’s because they are owned/controlled by the same foreign and domestic enemies who own/control the Democrats.

You are under the assumption that we the people are the boss, and our public servants are beholden to us (who pay their exorbitant salaries)  who they allegedly represent.  But they changed sides while you were napping.  Their real job now is to sell us down the river, bleed us dry, all while pretending to be our hapless advocates who are just too consistently incompetent to ever win a significant victory or stop our leftward slide over the cliff.

It is also their job to sabotage and assassinate the character of any Republican who is not compromised like they are. This is why they fight harder against the Tea Party than against the Democrats.  It’s also why some of them go on record admitting they will vote for Hillary if Trump wins the nomination.  (Or, in some cases,  if Cruz wins the nomination. )

Trump may prove to be just as corrupt (in a general sense) as they are. He may institute/accept/perpetuate disastrous, suicidal, anti-American policies just like they do. But the puppeteers can not allow somebody they don’t own/control to attain a position of such importance. Period.

You need to realize the problem is not with Trump, but that it is with you.  YOU are the problem.  YOU are the ones who failed.  You are so corrupt, but more so, inept and cowardly that the real Americans would rather vote for a potty-mouthed, straight shooter, than any of the “Slop v. 3.0” you’re going to serve up this round.

This reminds me of how I once broke up with a girlfriend. She was absolutely convinced that it was because I must have found someone else. My response to her assumption was approximately this: “Don’t flatter yourself. The only woman to blame for me leaving you is you.”

Creed, Rocky, and the Warrior Spirit

Rocky did to boxing what The Fast and the Furious did to street racing and motorsports, unfortunately.

People who have never boxed, know nothing about boxing, and would probably never voluntarily watch a fight, have all seen at least one of the Rocky movies. And because of that (plus “boxercise” and similar fads) a whole lot of them think they know something about the sport.

But I’m not here to knock the Rocky movies or the mythos they built. How can you not appreciate an underdog who overcomes much adversity; who fights on when there’s no realistic hope of success; who beats astronomical odds to achieve the most preposterous victory, yet never stops being a humble, decent guy even when on top of the world?

The franchise is full of masculine and heroic themes that resonate with red-blooded Americans–especially young men. Certain scenes from the movies are universally remembered; and certain dialog has become household cliches.

Rocky I  is probably the “best” of all the franchise. My personal favorite is Rocky III. And now, even in his advance years, Rocky Balboa is still appealing to our primordial masculine instincts–this time by taking the son of Apollo Creed under his wing. The old imparting wisdom to the young–a Biblical concept that is all but forgotten as every living generation has become increasingly selfish, foolish, and mercurial.

Adonis (“Donny”) Johnson is the byproduct of an extramarital affair Apollo Creed once had. Apollo died before Donny was born. Donny’s mother did about as good a job as the average single mother in the real world does: her son has been in trouble all his life–most likely on a road to drugs, violent crime and prison or premature death.

Settle down, ladies, because it’s a woman who steers him off that path. Apollo’s widow (the one he cheated on) takes Adonis in and becomes his mother, giving him the love he needs to turn him away from self-destruction. Now this is a female role model our culture needs to see more of, instead of the obligatory amazon superninja (or action hero with tits).

The old teaching the young--as it should be.
The old teaching the young–as it should be.

But no matter how saintly a mother figure may be, she can never fulfill the role of a father. A young man craves a positive father figure, and anyone who says different is pushing an agenda. Absent a father and lacking wise council to focus their masculine instincts, some boys will pursue a career in sports; some will join gangs; some will join the military; some will abandon masculinity altogether and become feminists, sodomites, or gender-bent freakshows.

Adonis Creed is consistently stupid through most of the film. He endangers his girlfriend’s career and reputation by attacking some headlining rap star for calling him “Baby Creed.” He loses his classic Mustang on a sucker’s bet that he can’t be hit by a fighter with much more experience than he has. One of the first and worst moments of stupidity is when, after just getting a promotion in a some white collar job presumably with career-to-retirement potential, he flushes it down the toilet (and breaks his adopted mother’s heart, incidentally) to pursue a professional boxing career.

I can relate to that bonehead move. As a young man I turned down all the military specialties that promised an easy life and skills which translate to civilian occupations…and insisted on the infantry.

Both me and Donny’s choices were idiotic from a strictly objective viewpoint. But, silly as it sounds to put it in words, boys and young men (especially those lacking a father figure) feel a strong compulsion to immerse themselves in a masculine milleu and reclaim their lost warrior heritage (if they had one; or to start one if they didn’t).

Some boxers have died as a result of a fight, but it’s pretty rare. According to the characters in the movie, though, it seems to be commonplace. Even a trainer at Apollo’s old gym refuses to let Adonis train there, for some unexplained reason. All the possible reasons are dubious, but the audience is left to assume it’s because the trainer just knows Creed Jr. will be hurt or killed if he laces on the gloves.

While I’m on the subject of silly crap, I might as well address the fight scenes. All cinematic fight scenes are full of overly dramatic choreography, and most of the ones in this movie are no exception. What makes it stand out worse here is that some scenes show an actor throwing fundamentally sound combinations…and then in the very next shot he’s sending Western Union roundhouse Hollywood haymakers, which is the first habit a competent trainer (at the amateur level, no less) will get you to break.

In one shot an actor will slip punches, bob and weave like he’s been schooled in the sweet science. In the next shot he’s just standing there waiting to get clocked by one of those aforementioned haymakers. There would be a lot of deaths in the sport if professional fighters routinely absorbed the kind of punches that get eaten in this movie (probably all the Rocky movies, truth be told). In the scene below, it looks like they just had the actors spar, and the result was so much more believable. The movie would have benefited from more scenes like this (and this is all one shot, BTW).

Also, once Rocky begins to train Donny, the kid quantum-leaps from raw brawler to contender level. Come-on now, Hollywood, give him some experience, first. At least some tune-up fights. Even if you have to reduce it to a montage. The overall film would be no less dramatic, and would be far more credible. You can save screen time by cutting out some of the window dressing–the romantic subplot, for instance. There’s not enough substance there to be meaningful, anyway.

And then there’s old Rocky. He’s even more likeable as a has-been than he was as a Cinderella Story. But while it’s hard not to like him, it’s also hard to respect a guy who is so easily, and frequently, persuaded to do things he is dead-set against. Either he doesn’t believe his own words when he says this or that is a bad idea; or he is too weak-minded to follow his convictions. Either way, this is not the kind of man you want to be.

Like any other flick in the Rocky franchise, Creed is not a great movie for a boxing fan. But it is a memorable (perhaps even inspirational) myth for the Everyman.

Younger Men MUST Learn These Truths

A reasonably intelligent man will learn these maxims eventually. Unfortunately, most will learn by experience via the Hard Knock Academy.

IM MAXIM #108 – Give a woman less attention than she wants, and she will desire it. Give her as much of it as she wants, and she will not. Women quickly devalue the attention of a man who would attend to her every whim, so be frugal; it is easy for a man to be too generous, but near impossible for him to be too frugal.

IM MAXIM #109 – In matters of women, entitlement and worthiness is a matter of false equivalence; her level of entitlement almost always exceeds what she is worth.

IM MAXIM #110 – If she can find a way to blame a man for her decisions, she will. If she can find a way to avoid guilt, she will. Oft these two intertwine, for women are allergic to responsibility and loathe to be held accountable.

Maxim #110 helps explain, for instance, the firestorm of criticism aimed at Donald Trump because of his careless remark about women and abortions. Yes, he was ambushed by the press (probably mild compared to what lies ahead for him), but that’s not my point here. His cardinal sin was to suggest that a woman who asks for an abortion be held just as accountable as the doctor who performs it (assuming the doctor is a man–in the case of a female doctor, well, obviously it’s a victimless event).

Even anti-abortion females are shocked by this outrageous suggestion that the women who choose to have unprotected sex, then choose to have the baby killed, should share in the blame for what results from their choice.

“But…but…but…those women are victims! Because rape.”

We all know that very few abortions are requested because of rape.

“But…but…but…those women are victims! Because the patriarchy! Some man manipulated her into sex. She had no choice but to abort because of how she’ll be treated if she doesn’t because of the unwritten rules that men dreamed up and men enforce.”

IM MAXIM #111 – Women have a propensity to distract you from your mission, do not permit this.

Ouch, ouch, and triple-ouch.

I once had a lot of goals in life, most of which were within my grasp to achieve. In most cases, I ruined my own chances by allowing myself to be distracted by some woman or another.

Women want goal-oriented men who have worked hard and achieved great things. But if they latch onto a man before he has achieved his goals…sin loi, dude. She will not tolerate the focus and sacrifices needed to pursue those goals, and manufacture all kinds of drama which MUST TAKE PRECEDENCE over any- and everything that’s important to you to accomplish. And if you succumb to her demands, later she will of course blame you for having accomplished nothing.

And she’s right to blame you. She can’t help it. Like the Geico (or whatever) commercial says, it’s what you do if you’re a woman. If the man doesn’t maintain frame under the barrage of the woman’s shit tests, it is his fault. Frogs and scorpions, young man. Frogs and scorpions.

The following maxims lead me to believe they were written in no particular order:

IM MAXIM #115 – Whenever there is a problem between a man and woman, the fault is always assumed to lie with the man and never the woman. And so because of this, the onus to fix the problem lies on the man, not the woman. Even when it is obvious that all if not most the blame lies with a woman, polite society will reject all good sense and insist that liability is man’s to bear. Would it then be a stretch to presuppose that even on the most subconscious of levels, people believe it easier to coerce a man than reason with a woman?

IM MAXIM #116 – Women define themselves by their relationships, men by their achievements. Refer to Maxim #104

IM MAXIM #117 – Female helplessness is an asset prompting charity and sympathy, male helplessness is a liability prompting disgust and aversion. Women are independent by choice, men have no choice.

IM MAXIM #118 – Any man who needs a woman is not a man she’d want. Women want to feel wanted, not needed, they can’t handle being needed. Needing a woman is tantamount to forfeiting her, women are repelled by desire that has transformed into need.

IM MAXIM #119 – Women are the needier sex and hence the deadlier sex; great need necessitates great duplicity.

You have been taught to believe something totally different, I know. In fact most women actually convince themselves that a weak, vulnerable man who pedestalizes her and lets her wear the pants is attractive (as long as he maintains a six-pack and earns a six-figure income like in the movies). But she herself feels no attraction to helpless, needy males. She just embraces it as an ideal that other women should strive for.

IM MAXIM #123 – Snagging a high value man is women’s entire purpose for being, although she’s never quite sure she got the best deal possible.

This is one reason there is no such thing as “happily ever after” in the real world–even if you were her Prince Charming at one point.

IM MAXIM #126 – If a woman accuses you of cheating when you haven’t done anything, there’s a high chance she’s projecting her infidelity onto you – abandon her.

Sounds ridiculously simplistic, but it is absolutely accurate. The most intelligent woman, regardless of how high her IQ, is just not very complex. They seem unpredictable and mysterious to the miseducated male mind, but that’s a myth, reinforced by the culture. The red pill demolishes myths like these, but few even find it–much less swallow it. You can grow to hate women–simply imagining that it is purely malevolent sadism behind their actions–if you don’t accept the scorpion/frog paradigm for what it is.

I strongly suggest that younger men read the more exhastive list of these maxims and take them to heart. Readjust your thinking before it’s too late for you. I have learned by experience that these are true, whether they sound harsh or not.

On the one hand I wish this information had been available for me back in the day. Oh, how badly I wish. But on the other hand I have to be honest.

The fact is, I probably would have rejected this wisdom. I was too hard-headed. Not only did I swallow the blue pill, but I wanted to believe the myth. I thought my one-itus was a virtue, and wanted there to be a special snowflake I could place on my pedestal.

Ignorance may feel like bliss at the time, but it leads to misery in the long run.

IM MAXIM #128 – Women need their ex’s to be losers to feel like they made the right choice. If even one is a winner, her hypergamy will realise a glitch in its optimisation and thus the afflicted woman becomes awash with regret.

IM MAXIM #129 – If you place your trust on a woman’s conscience to compel her to do the right thing, then you are a fool by definition.

IM MAXIM #130 – The smarter the woman, the more nimble the rationalisation of her emotion.

IM MAXIM #132 – As a man, win or lose, you have to take risks; being complacent and passive is a female privilege – men have the burden of performance. Taking risks is core to the personality of masculinity, when nature gave you XY chromosomes, this was ordained. Meek and lazy men get nothing.

IM MAXIM #133 – Masculine women are a poor simulacrum of man, for they capture a man’s fierceness absent his reason or accountability.

Or, as it was so aptly expressed on film:

IM MAXIM #134 – A woman hates a man who won’t give her what she wants, but she absolutely detests a man who does, and without a fight.

IM MAXIM #138 – If you’re winning, women care about your tiniest grievances, when you’re losing, you’re dead to them.

IM MAXIM #139 – When you’re winning you can be rude and unruly and she will apologise for your mistakes. When you’re losing, she will blame you for her mistakes.

The more the list goes on, the more it hits an experienced man right between the eyes. Life will be so much better for you if you learn from the mistakes of others.

The Council of Czars

Troy Abdul Obaid Akbar wanted to be somewhere else.

Why did he…or anyone, for that matter…have to hang around in the White House Situation Room listening to boring reports about some attack on a CIA safe house in North Africa?

He was sick of hearing generals and admirals whine about the ambassador trapped inside, and the two or three fools trying to hold off the valiant army of Arab Spring holy warriors laying siege. They would hopefully hurry up and die soon. Akbar and his staff might as well all go do something fun.

The dumbass ambassador had it coming—he got caught brokering secret arms deals. Akbar himself had instructed the ambassador to broker the deals, but it was still the ambassador’s fault. Or maybe it was the Agency’s fault; or the previous administration’s fault. Whatever—it was somebody else’s fault besides Akbar, anyway.

In a rush of decisive leadership, Akbar snuck out of the Situation Room and stole down the hallway to his own private screening chamber, before one more imperialist warmonger infidel came up to him with offers including elite forces standing by to rescue the besieged embassy staff.

Akbar made it into the screening room, locked the door behind him, turned on the popcorn popper and cued up his favorite drone snuff video.

He was just starting to relax when someone banged on the door.

“Troy? I know you’re in there!”

He shivered at the sound of that voice. His popcorn feast froze in mid-chew.

“Troy Abdul Obaid, open this door at once!”

Akbar silently cursed, holding his breath and remaining very still. Maybe if he didn’t respond or make any other noise, she would just go away.

“Don’t make me call your wife!”

He cringed. Then he heard the jangle of keys outside and knew the jig was up.

The lock clicked; the door swung open; and there stood Vendetta Jones, flanked by two Secret Service bodyguards.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Vendetta demanded. “You’re the President of the United States! You can’t just sneak away like that.”

Akbar took a moment to find his voice. It sucked not having a teleprompter when you were an inspiring orator like him. “C’mon, Vendetta: I’ve been listening to all that ’emergency this’ and ‘urgent that’ crap for hours, now. I’ve got an important trip to Vegas tomorrow. Can’t I just relax for a while?”

Vendetta noticed the drone footage on the screen. “Oh, Lenin’s ghost! This video again? You’ve seen it eight times already.”

Akbar threw his hands up. “But I’m never given the chance to actually enjoy it! Am I?”

A strand of dark hair fell out of place from Vendetta’s pixie hairdo and she blew it out of her face in exasperation. “Look, you’ve got a press conference scheduled in a little while; and the real press conference just before that. I’ve got to get you ready for that after you put in your time in the Situation Room.”

“No,” he said, decisively. “I won’t do it. I’m going to sit in here and watch this video, and finish my popcorn. I’m not going back into that boring room and taking any more calls from generals or admirals with requests to launch rescue missions. In fact, I don’t want to see another uniformed person all day, unless it rains and I need the Marine Corpse to hold my umbrella!”

Vendetta Jones marched over to where Akbar sat on the divan, grabbed him by one of his prominent ears, and twisted.

Akbar yelped and half-chewed popcorn sprayed from his mouth.

“You listen to me, you little worm!” she hissed. “You are not going to embarrass me again!”

He tried to slap her with both hands but his wild swings missed. He tried to scratch her face but she moved her head out of the way. He tried to grab her by the hair and yank it, but it was too short. Then he thought of twisting his own head to bite her on the arm, but she tweaked harder on his ear and brought him to his feet.

“Quit acting like you’re still in Chicago,” she commanded.

On the screen the image went black.

“You made me miss the best part,” Troy Abdul Obaid Akbar complained, as she marched him out of the room by the ear.


When Akbar entered the private conference room down the hall from the Oval Office, it was with all the swag and dignity expected of a man in his position. Vendetta Jones followed him inside.

They had kept Chase O’Buffer waiting for a while. As soon as they entered, the CEO of the International Broadcast Service (IBS) shot to his feet and bowed a greeting.

“I’m so pleased you could take the time to meet with me, Mr. President.”

“Yes,” Akbar said, simply, as he took a seat in a throne-like padded chair.

Vendetta sat to Akbar’s right on a smaller chair. O’Buffer sank to his knees in front of Akbar and began removing the Presidential Shoes.

“How is everything?” O’Buffer asked.

“They’d be a lot better if you did your job right,” Akbar said.

“But sir,” O’Buffer protested, “we’re doing everything we can…”

“My approval ratings are a disgrace!” Akbar interrupted. “If it weren’t for illegal aliens, serial voters in swing states, United Nations election supervisors, and the Black Panthers, the outcome of the upcoming election would be in doubt!”

O’Buffer sheepishly peeled off the Presidential Socks. “It’s those damned armchair bloggers, Mr. President. Now they’ve leaked the information about your application as a foreign student, and your Social Security Number belonging to some dead guy in a state you never lived in.”

“Racists!” Akbar declared. “They’re all racists.”

“Of course they are, Mr. President” O’Buffer agreed. As the Presidential Feet were bared, O’Buffer breathed deeply the rich, intoxicating aroma and bolstered his courage. “And we’re doing everything we can to make that known.”

Akbar leveled his index finger at the media magnate and fixed him with a stare of raw, righteous outrage. “I paid millions to seal up my records and you swore right along with the others that you would prevent this kind of snooping. You know—right after my speech about what a transparent administration this would be.”

O’Buffer reverently took the Presidential Toes in both hands and began the foot rub, giving it just how His Leader liked it. “Yes, yes. I remember. How can I make this up to you, Mr. President?”

“Well,” Akbar said, “the fringe lunatics are still whining about my long-form birth certificate.”

O’Buffer grinned with relief, pleased that he could redeem himself in a tangible way. “I have a whole stable of image editing experts. We’ll put something together for you. You can put it right on your website.” He cast a furtive glance up at His Leader’s face.

“What is it?” Akbar snapped.

“Um, well Mr. President, there’s also a buzz about those murders committed with assault weapons given to the Mexican drug cartels. Any reasonable person knows it’s a small price to pay for the greater good…but a few people wonder what decisive action you’re going to take.”

Akbar yawned. “I’m way ahead of you, boy. I’ve already invited the President of Mexico to come lecture Congress about gun violence.”

Vendetta cleared her throat. “I hate to rush this, but we do have a few more meetings before the public press conference.”

O’Buffer sped up the motions of his fingers, now massaging between Akbar’s toes. “Oh, sure. Almost done.”

Vendetta handed him a manila folder with a couple pages inside. “No, you are done. Here’s a list of the questions your reporters are allowed to ask.”

O’Buffer halted the foot rub abruptly to take the folder. He climbed to his feet, morose that his kneading efforts had failed to please His Leader. “You know I’m here for you any time, right?”

Vendetta shooed him out and escorted the next CEO in—this one from United Broadcast Service (UBS). His foot rub was a little more skilled. And he promised to create a website called “Totally Non-Partisan Urban Legend Debunker dot org” to counterattack the forces of hate trying to expose scandalize Akbar’s record and qualifications.

After IBS and UBS came Neutral Broadcast Service (NBS); Associated Broadcast Service (ABS) ; Equality Broadcast Service (EBS); Global Village Broadcast Service (GVBS); Socially Responsible Broadcast Service (SRBS); Common Cause Broadcast Service (CCBS); Lock Step Broadcast Service (LSBS)…no getting around it: there was way too much BS to keep track of in mass media.

At least Jacob Hornswoggler had performed his foot rubbing duties earlier in the week. He was Akbar’s favorite and most trusted, as well as newly appointed Media Czar over all the variations of BS.

Still, Akbar didn’t know how much more of this strenuous brinkmanship he could take. And his voice was hoarse from issuing the news corporations’ marching orders. President of the United States was the most taxing job he’d held in his life.

Well, it was the only job he’d held in his life, but still…

No lesser man could handle all this sub-par foot-rubbing. He needed a break. It had been almost a month since the taxpayers had ponied up the cash for another multi-million dollar vacation, so they owed him. He would rectify that very soon.

His mood darkened when he realized the First Lady would probably want to come along, too, with at least 20 of her personal assistants. He would much rather go with just his own entourage—especially his handsome, buff personal trainer. The guy still hadn’t taught him how to throw a baseball, but excelled in other physical endeavors.

After all the foot-rubbing, it was time for the press conference that took place with cameras rolling. His PR team had his answers cued on the teleprompter so the world would know he was the smartest, most scholarly political thinker in all 57 states. Many questions were about the hurricane heading toward the east coast.

“There’s going to be a lot of wind,” he prophesied, solemnly, “and a lot of water.”

Reporters all over the room felt a tingle up their legs, overwhelmed by their president’s clairvoyance and inspiring leadership. Once the briefing was over most of them swooned in place or ran off to masturbate.

Afterwards, Akbar still wasn’t able to sneak off and enjoy his drone snuff films the way he really wanted to. Oh, those pesky reports kept coming in about those crybabies besieged in North Africa, whining for help, distracting him from last minute plan changes for his important Vegas trip.

But that wasn’t the worst. Vendetta ordered him to her office with a grave tone of voice and ominous expression. That could only mean a severe emergency.

Inside Vendetta’s office were other VIPs who usually only appeared together in public when there was an emergency. Flanking her were Jacob Hornswoggler, Chester Snaykoil, Elsa Von Branefuq, Doctor Seikobabel, Chairman Schmuckafeller and General Blunderbuss. Collectively, this group was unofficially known as the Council of Czars.

If an outside observer were to see this group meet inside, well, technically they’d no longer be an outside observer. But for the sake of argument, if these insiders were to meet outside, the theoretical outside observer might imagine some kind of conspiracy.

(Of course the very idea of conspiracy was so ridiculous that only members of the vast right-wing conspiracy entertained such farfetched notions.)

This was no conspiracy, but merely a clandestine agreement to covertly implement secret plans that would affect those who were outside the inner circle and ignorant of its agenda.

Akbar stood before Vendetta’s desk, hoping she would offer to let him sit. She didn’t.

“There’s another crisis,” she intoned. “I’m afraid they’re getting out of hand.”

He brightened, heart soaring. “Is it finally time to suspend the Constitution altogether?”

“Not yet,” Vendetta Jones said.

Akbar deflated. This day had been a disaster so far, and he was desperate for something to cheer him up.

“We may never have to resort to something so ham-fisted as that,” Chairman Schmuckafeller said.

“As I was saying,” Ms. Jones continued, “we have a real situation here. There’s an epidemic of sorts breaking out, and it requires radical, decisive action.”

“Listen to this,” General Blunderbuss said. “We intercepted it from a private interview by a rogue media outlet.” Blunderbuss tapped his tablet to play the clip.

“If the creator of the universe defines what marriage is,” said the voice on the audio clip, “then who are we, as created beings, to tell him he’s wrong?”

With a grim face, Vendetta said, “I think that speaks for itself. But what you should know is that these words were spoken by a business owner with a restaurant chain.”

The individuals let that sink in. It was bad enough that a religious right fanatic was allowed to run a business. Even worse that the business made a profit (without contributing appropriate amounts to the Democratic Party). Now he had the audacity to flagrantly commit his thought crime hate crime out in the open.

“I’ll make a call to my people in Chicago,” Akbar said, with an eruption of decisive leadership. “We’ll pull his building permits, for starters.”

“Stand down, Mr. President,” Vendetta Jones said. “That might get some of the wingnuts out there whining about the Bill of Rights or some such nonsense.”

“This can’t be a frontal assault,” growled General Blunderbuss. “It calls for a more covert solution.”

But there’s more,” Hornswoggler said, gravely. “As Ms. Jones said, it’s an epidemic. A star on a nationally televised TV show…nationally televised…admitted off-camera that he believes marriage is strictly one man and one woman.”

A collective gasp sounded in the room, but Hornswoggler went on. “And thanks only to the proactive investigative work by the IRS to root out potential enemies of the State, we found out the CEO of a prominent web browser provider once contributed $1,000 to a traditional marriage initiative.”

Those in the room trembled with righteous rage. This was the worst atrocity since Auschwitz.

Finally, Vendetta Jones spoke up to provide perspective. “Ladies and gentlemen, this is but one front in a growing war. We’ve got non-Muslims clinging to their guns and religion. We’ve got crackpots in flyover country trying to make it illegal to be an illegal alien. We’ve got greedy ranchers running their cattle roughshod over land we’re trying to give to China for a solar farm…er, I mean the habitat of an endangered desert turtle…and that’s just the tip of the iceberg. Desperate times call for desperate measures. General Blunderbuss?”

“Let me put this in civilian terms,” the general said, the smoke from his fat cigar wafting up past his eye patch. “What we need is an all-star team to take the fight to the enemy. Hand-picked agents with very specialized and complimentary skill sets. This is a Tier One program we’re calling…”

General Blunderbuss paused for dramatic effect. Or maybe he sucked cigar smoke down the wrong pipe and was silently choking. In any case, the suspense was dramatic.

“…Operation ‘For the Greater Good’.”

This was Chapter 4 from The Greater Good.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

The Race Card Has Been a Single-Edged Sword…

…Up until now. But sooner or later, SJWs will start feeling the bite of the other edge.

It amazes me how some people don’t choke on their own hypocrisy. Most white people alive today have spent all their lives just rolling with the double standards but not sinking down to the level of their antagonists. Whites are discriminated against routinely, while simultaneously being blamed for discrimination.

There is a rapidly growing pool of uppity gringo honkies who won’t be content to just level the playing field, but who would like very much to give every single dark-skinned person payback for decades of institutionalized racism against whites.

It’s ugly; it’s tragic; it was completely unnecessary…but the SJWs (both in and outside of institutions) have made it inevitable: they are going to find out what real racism looks like.

(When they’re NOT looking in the mirror, that is.)