Nothing Changes

Every time I come back to Melbourne, I have a hope, a hope that things will be lovelier than the last time I was there, a hope that maybe it’ll be more pleasant than when I left it. Sadly however, that glimmer of optimism typically fades, generally after the third or fourth day upon my return, I realise nothing actually transformed. A few shops moved, a few new signs but ultimately, it’s still the same place. People still plugging away at their jobs, paying their taxes, and experiencing that most placid existence available.

In the time I’ve been gone, I went from place to place, learnt useful lessons, and experienced the highest of highs and lowest of lows. But I come back here and simply can’t see myself being another brick in the wall of delusion. I’ve always maintained and continue to believe that Melbourne is Poison for the types that have the slightest hint of creativity or ambition. Besides sitting in traffic, and boasting about Brunch spots, there’s really nothing going on for the place.

The people seem to be soullessly going through the motions, swallowing the nonsense that’s been thrown out by the general media. The skanks are still shamelessly skanking and finding their herbs after they wasted their peak years getting used like a public restroom. The guys are still “manning” up and accepting the leftovers in the sexual marketplace after slaving away on their careers.

Nightlife remains disappointing, shopping seems stagnant, public transport is still ancient. Some people are comfortable being in the safety of their domiciles, but I never could see myself merely existing in Melbourne. The growth and learning opportunities that come when you’re in new environments and exposing yourself to things you simply can’t get in Australia is very rewarding, and I look back at the years that I’ve spent away from here with fondness as I truly believed staying here and continuing down the pre-determined path that was provided to me would have been a waste.

So, I think I’m happy being abroad. Anywhere but here.

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Wrong is Right, Right is Wrong

I often get asked to make an argument as to how unconventional sexual acts are wrong, but without making reference to religion.

It’s actually quite simple. For one moment, close your eyes and allow your mind to let slip all of the assumptions and predispositions you garner over the years of having lived as a human in a human culture (doesn’t matter which one).

Now, open your eyes and with fresh vision see the world around you as if for the first time. Aside from technology, particularly destructive technology, what is the most powerful innate quality which humans possess?

It is the power to consciously create life. No other creature does so knowingly. Animals are driven by the sexual impulse and have no conscious awareness of the outcome of their actions. They are all base desire and instinct.

Humans are creatures of passion too, but we are also mind and moral. It has been the utilisation of reason and ethics that have allowed us to shamble out of the forests and build world-spanning civilisations.

When men and women deal in restraint, communities prosper. Anthropology has long acknowledged that the demure feminine witnessed as part of a traditionalist community contributes far more to the cohesion of the group than an unleashed feminine carnality, as we see in matriarchal societies (which inevitably collapse from infighting).

It seems hardwired into humans that we may have free rein of our more primordial instincts, or we may restrain them and thus have higher culture… but not both.

The sexual revolution, unleashed during the enlightenment by money and power hungry Freemasons and their Jacobin confederates was enacted as a kind of control surrogate for the God-given authority of the Catholic Kings whom they sought to overturn. People are controlled by their passions, so whomever enables those passions, controls them… or so they though. We’re now living in the shattered remains of that plan, and from the depths of my heart, I wish to extend a deep and heartfelt “fuck you” to any and all Freemasonic scum who might be reading this now.

The sexual act has mental, physical, emotional and spiritual ramifications which we still do not completely fathom. But we can draw strong correlationary observations. Most pertinent to this subject, I think, is the clear link between unconventional sexual relationships and death:

Homosexual youth attempt suicide more than 3 times more frequently than their heterosexual counterparts. A Canadian study estimated that their risk of suicide is 14 times higher than for heterosexual youth.

Among youth who attempted suicide, almost twice as many homosexual youth said they really hoped to die, as opposed to the attempt being a cry for attention or help.

Of transgender people, between 30-45% report having attempted suicide. Think about that.

Homosexual men have a higher risk of suicide than women although women attempt suicide more frequently.

Then there are the corollary statistics of higher rates of depression and other mental illness, drug-dependence, crime, inability or unwillingness to find or hold on to long-term employment, massively increased likelihood of contracting serious STDs… the list goes on.

Homosexual advocates will argue that this is due to them living in societies that are default “homophobic” (a term that represents nothing), societies which revile and discriminate against them. While I don’t dispute that discrimination exists, I can quite easily point to the fact that as a heterosexual white male, I encounter discrimination frequently, and there are virtually no services, political groups or federal holidays designed expressly to celebrate my identity. In fact, it’s generally vilified, while homosexuals seem to be at the very social apex of modern Western culture.

If you deny that, you’ve been living in the woods for thirty years, or you’re a damned liar.

Few people decide to off themselves while they’re at the top, which is why the suicide rate among billionaires is remarkably low. So I discount the victimhood strategy of the LGBTXYZ crowd.

These people are yearning for the sweet release of death because the act most central to LIFE ITSELF is for one reason or another twisted inside of them, and as Patriarchy columnist Joseph Sciambra so eloquently and repeatedly points out, few people want to try to help them, for fear of being branded “homophobic”. They are, effectively, pushed deeper and deeper into “the life” until they’re tired of life altogether.

We are built, at the very centre of our beings, to want to find the man or woman who will complement us, and with them, create new life… a LITERAL embodiment of our union. Really think about that!

Think of the philosophical significance of it for a moment. If it doesn’t hit you, you haven’t managed to step away from the sexual revolutionary programming which has inculcated promiscuity into your conception of sex.

The fact is, sex is enjoyable because the act of creating new life is imperative. Not because it feels good. If you confuse the symptom for the effect, then there is no difference between you and two pigs going at it in a mud pit.

It’s ultimately not a matter of pointing out what’s wrong with unconventional sexual acts and/or identity (though I believe I’ve made a rather strong start).

It comes down, in the end, to the fact that there is nothing RIGHT about it.

 

Abort Babies, Adopt Doggies

I was walking down the park near Osaka castle during the midst of Spring with a friend I made in Los Angeles last year. The cherry blossoms were looking rather vibrant under the bright sunshine, with a generous audience of lively tourists. The picturesque scene was shared by the a typical old money girl obsessed with the material things in life next to me. Ivy league education, mixed background and liberal upbringing meant she was obviously unsuitable for anything with potential, however catching up around the globe every now and then wasn’t a bad deal especially when she footed the bill most of the time.

We walked around and took in the sights and sounds that afternoon and caught up on the stories that made our lives memorable since we last met up. She told me her stories of work events, dating, friends, travels and the regular snorefest of social media updates. I told her about some projects I worked on, some travel stories, updates about friends and so on.
As we were talking, she saw a dog, and cut me off with something as follows
“Oh my god look at that doggie, it’s so cute”
I was pretty close to silent as she stayed fixated on her furry animal of interest.
“I wanna get one so bad – but my works and travel schedule is too hectic!”

Her affection to dogs came from their companionship and having a living breathing thing around her to take care of and be a “mother” to.

Now, I don’t really have an insane affection for dogs, well not more than the average person but her level of fascination was borderline extreme.

It then started getting me thinking about how dogs these days are now replacements for kids for most Western individuals and couples.What used to be an addition to a nuclear family with kids  has now become a replacement for kids. It’s not unheard for barren slags to ride the carousel till her mid 30’s, find a herb to marry, then forego kids and get a few dogs to fill the void.

Later on that day, I was back at the hotel and in the post-coital truth session this girl spurted out on the amount of times shes resorted to plan-b and the few abortions shes had. These were all from casual sex, and one night stands. Inside, I felt a sinking feeling, a salty feeling of disgust at how comfortable she is with the recurring use of these emergency means as a form of regular birth control. Given how “empowered” she is these days, by undergoing regular abortions which are now a celebratory topic for most modern feminists, I felt rather sickened at her walking contradiction that many modern women are these days. They can aspire to adopt a furry animal, and feel empowered to abort a child. Of course, there’s a million pre-prepared arguments from all but the trend is clear for all to see.

 

Women: The Walking Contradiction

I was recently coming across an article on Roosh’s blog which described what he’s learnt from his recent long term relationships.  Reading his views were seemed to awaken a thought process which I was rather familiar with in regards to women. As I continued to read, I could relate to his points with great similarities from my own experiences. These were the ones that really stood out for me.

They’re time vampires

Men just want sex, a bit of intimacy, a companion to eat or watch movies with, and space. Women want sex, cuddling, and endless hours of conversation about nothing important. She wants her man to be a problem solver, psychologist, warrior, and punching bag all in one, and even if you satisfy those needs, she will always want more, because it’s in her nature to keep extracting value.

For whatever reason, a woman finds it impossible to be alone. They’ll spend time with someone they hate, or who they are intensely jealous of, than be alone. A woman rather have a gaggle of gay friends, and hear them constantly talk about butt sex, then watch documentaries or read old books. Their primary fear in life is being alone, something that many men actually desire. A man would not spend time with someone else he dislikes from fear of being alone, because it’s during his alone time that he can recharge his batteries and process his experiences.

When a girl identifies you as a romantic boyfriend, what she really has found is a “time friend,” someone who can now spend dozens of hours a week with her, just so she doesn’t have to be with her own mind. For men who do value their alone time, this causes the bulk of relationship conflicts, but since pussy feels so good, we continue making the sacrifice, as we have been doing for millennia.

 

as well as this point..

They have nothing going on in their lives

Time vampires need other people’s time because they have nothing going on in their own lives. Men have peculiar interests and hobbies that can occupy them endlessly. I’ve gone days without human contact while working on a particular book project or web site, and didn’t feel particularly pained.

Women don’t have hobbies or interests that are not external projections of how they wish to see themselves. Their primary life interest is men, because only men allow them to construct an image to others of who they want to be seen as: a good girlfriend, a girl in love, a girl who another man greatly desires, a sexy woman, an honorable woman, and so on. The man is a needed accessory in this manipulation, which is why it’s so common for a girl to dive into a long-term relationship, and profess her love for a man, only to cheat on him from the weakest of impulses. The relationship merely serves as validation of how she wants to be seen, not who she really is. The gap between who she wants to be and who she actually is gets taken care of by her advanced rationalization mechanism that prevents her from accepting she is rather clueless and makes grievous mistakes.

It’s her relationships with men that give her definition to her life, because outside of it, she has nothing but Facebook news feeds, Instagram, pop trends, a mind-numbing job, and friends who mainly talk about other men, gossip, text messaging, and feminine hygiene. Besides work, which she pursues partly to have more leverage in her relationships with men by not needing their money (compared to many men who actually enjoy their jobs), she has no identity that she can call her own, no interests to ground her, no passions that are unrelated to men and being seen as attractive by them.

The above is a nice way of saying the following: if women were judged by how they judge men, they’d be losers. Put a dick on just about any woman you know and watch her instantly transform into a loser, one who is addicted to social media, overpriced restaurants, toxic entertainment, and endless validation from strangers. The biggest male loser is as accomplished, talented, and skilled as the biggest female “winner,” and the only reason very few girls are seen as losers is because they have a pussy, and just about all pussies feel good, regardless of who it’s attached to.

I remember recently, I was abroad and was judging the girl I was with being an immense loser of the highest calibre once I realised she really had not much going on in her life besides social media, a flurry of gossip, her paper pushing job and her past dalliances. This left me with not one ounce of regret when discarded her like yesterdays trash once I realised she wasn’t up to my standard.

 

Corrupted Values

I think given how the world corrupts women to bring out their worst features these days. It’s paramount that girls you date (ie. not just pump and dump) have similar values to you.

Most girls who go down the casual sex path in their prime years will not ever admit the negative effects of their indiscretions. They will never admit how their actions will lead to difficulties bonding to a man, in the long-term. Instead, they will rationalise, “I lived in the moment”, “It was just companionship”, “I had my fun”. For me, any woman that pedestalizes casual sex as something amazing is not worth dating seriously. If she’s telling you about her casual sex, and doing so in a boastful way, discard her like yesterday’s trash. You should already be wary that she’s been down that path once before, hence the cautionary view should always be out in the early stages.

Unfortunately, sluts inside know they can’t unwind the clock and unfuck all the nobody’s they fucked. They won’t admit to that at all so instead they will bitch about double standards, and think of the most illogical excuses imaginable. This is squid ink for the reality that her value has eroded from her own doing.

I think single digit notch count, and a view of shame or down-looking on a girls past casual sex is acceptable for a relationship. No girl should even compare you to anything else in the beginning, and most definitely not some whatever banging to some dude she just met. If she does, that’s just simply asking to get dropped like yesterday’s trash.

Let’s be honest, there are no “DOUBLE STANDARDS“. If she can’t accept that and continues sprouting liberal bullshit which shows her as a typical girl brainwashed by the modern trends, then it’s better to use that pussy up as much as possible and discard it when you’re done since it’ll save you inevitable heartache and pain in the future.

Summer Vacation Skanks

Last summer, I spent some time in a famous coastal city in Europe to enjoy a few days of relaxation from my busy schedule.

I went alone with the intention of relaxing and forgetting about the rest of the world.
As I boarded my flight, I noticed tourists.. lots of them.

Damn.

What I had hoped to be a quiet few days away from civilisation was now going to be overturned with rowdy tourists. i read online that this time of year is generally quiet and peaceful, how wrong it was.

There was one upside however..

Dirty skanks taking “girls trips” away from family and loved ones.

The dark reality of how girls behave away from judgement is for all to be revealed when you see loose they are with their bodies on vacations.

I wasn’t that motivated by the low hanging fruit as I honestly just wanted some alone time but in the back of my mind I was pleased there was some advantage coming from the lack of peace on this vacation.

I checked into my hotel, got myself ready and relaxed by the beach overlooking the sunset. It was surreal… until it was ruined by the sound of rowdy travel skanks.

I met a few more by the beach and also at bars nearby. The thing that astounded me was how openly flirty some of these taken and married girls were. It’s a sad state of affairs for men in the west when their women are cuckolding them at such enormous rates, thanks feminism.

One woman even openly stated “Yeah, this trip is all about me, having fun, playing hard, and getting away from my marriage and life back home”. This same woman was spotted leaving hand-in-hand with a guy from the bar within an hour of exchanging pleasantries. I have always felt a sense of guilt proceeding with taken and married women, so I avoid them. However, its known to me how thirsty some guys are that they will honestly fuck anything they can get (Yes, blacks included) and being in that category that will openly step into someone else’s relationship to ease the thirst is something I never wanted to be involved in.

As I enjoyed a ride on a friends boat, I met several Eastern European girls who were travelling. I was a little surprised at their horniness during their trip also given that they were also taken. I felt sorry for the guys they left back at home knowing that their had wifed up such volatile goods.

Luckily, the student crowd of university skanks enjoying their summer vacation and about to engage in their long list of life regrets satisfied me pretty well. However, the discomfort in seeing female hypergamy in its raw form left me with somewhat of a bitter taste.

 

 

The Beauty of Choice

Have you ever had a tough time getting over a girl?
Maybe, you found out she was a total whore, or her nagging got to irredeemable heights or simply it just wasn’t going anywhere.

This happens to all of us, and time is generally the biggest healer of all.

Recently, I was rather annoyed with a particular casual acquaintance as her previous whoredom came out in the midst of a conversation. Of course, I am happily slamming on the side and not really too committed on her but the fact that this girl takes up some of my spare time means she has to be of a certain level in terms of my personal standards.

So I was rather annoyed when certain things didn’t meet my stern standards. Instead of fret and frow over the details and have sleepless nights over it, my oneitis was avoided due to the fact that there was a similarly attractive girl whom was nearby and accessible.

For those that aren’t aware, oneitis:

Oneitis is a disease of the amygdala that presents as a total incapacitation of the man’s logic, reason and interest in hobbies, hygiene and restful sleep. Oneitis exists in two forms, a precoital and postcoital expression of the virus. The precoital, or “#1 crush”, form occurs when two conditions are met: A girl possesses a precise beauty of the face that closely matches the beauty template the man carries in his head for the perfect woman, and this girl is within the man’s visual and aural field. The postcoital, or “no girl will ever be as good as her”, form occurs when the same conditions are met, with the additional factor that the man has boffed the girl and is now not boffing her.

Now, when you live in a place where the mating market is much more balanced and not so skewed to femcentric liberals, this isn’t too hard, but I can surely imagine how much harder it would be for a man living in toxic anti-masculine societies.

Skanks Hate Trump

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A lot of people don’t like Trump, but I’ve noticed a pattern in that the people who truly seem to DESPISE him with an obsessive fervor all seem to be aged ex-sluts. Examples among women I know: An old “rock club” slut who used to fuck metal bands passing through town; a former college friend who fucked almost the whole dorm hall and several professors; and the town slut who not only fucked but *dated* her high school bio teacher, then went on to be in countless wet t-shirt contests.

I could give more examples, but these are the most glaring. Why? Because they especially took offense to Trump’s pussy-grabbing comment. That’s right — the very women who were the first to actually get their tits out in their teens and twenties are now indignant in their forties that a man (OMG!) would actually talk about sex. Imagine that. How rude!

There has to be some weird psychological thing going on here. Resentment? Loss of power? Lack of control over the sexual market? All of the above?

I have three theories to explain the psychological motivations of ex-slut hatred of Trump (and by extension, hatred of Trumperica and its people).

  1. Shame. Ex-sluts have to carry the burden of their sluttery and no matter how much they put on a brave grrlpower face, they HATE HATE HATE to be reminded that they joyfully acquiesced to alpha men like a young Trump using their youthful bodies for fleeting pleasures of the flesh and of the peak femininity.

  2. The Wall. Ex-sluts try to ignore The Wall and their inevitable sex and romance-destroying impact with it. As with the shame of their sexual histories, ex-sluts don’t like reminders of their rapidly coalescing sexual (and marital) worthlessness. Trump’s well-known ALPHA MALE ENTITLEMENT in the company of younger hotter tighter women, and his implied DISAVOWAL of spending romantic effort on older women, is a constant needle under the skin of aging beauties for whom Trump is the visual embodiment of every man they secretly desire but can now no longer attract.

  3. Social ostracism. Fact is, if Trumperica is realized in all its feminism-jettisoning, patriarchy-recovering glory, sluts and spinsters will have a hard go of it, especially in the marital market. A nation of beta males energized with a renewed masculinity and healthy male prerogative will feel less inclined to suck up to low value women or, worse, settle for them out of a misplaced sense of lack of options which have heretofore been drilled into their heads by the man-hating shrikegeist. Trumperica means the end of beta male thirst, at least as it is practiced today under the rules of our degenerate matriarchy: in public, with ostentatiousness and self-defeating white knight earnestness. The drying up of the beta male thirst pool will mean, blessedly, less attention lavished on fading cock hop stars by any man but the most desperately indiscriminate blacks. Ex-sluts will feel this social demotion in their bones, and they fight against its arrival — an arrival in the form of Trump and his aesthete army — with a passion they are no longer able to conjure in the bedroom.

No wonder your Facebook feed is filled with hate.

Worldwide Lust

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I stood there at the Shibuya crossing on that cold winter night recollecting the last week or so. It was unforgettable.

I made a challenge to myself, using not one bit of cash how much could I extract from girls? Using emotions, sex and words as the weapons of choice, how far could I take things? So I did it, the same way girls extract resources from men with the exchange of the use of their vagina.

It all started over the Summer. I met a girl in the fashion industry based in Tokyo. Her genetic beauty was easy to notice, her dress-sense and charm added plenty to the complete package. Sadly for her, her mindset was spoilt by living in the toxic wastelands of the West. I knew our mindsets would never totally align so any prospect for it to last was discarded from that point onwards. For me, it was nothing new, just simply going through the motions like a puppet getting its strings pulled. For her, it was as if she’d met someone impressive, with the poise and finesse of a long-term suitor. The manufactured chemistry was real for her she surrendered to it and let the passion take over. In the coming

We locked eyes for a split second, and I had to know more. For me, it was nothing new, just simply going through the motions like a puppet getting its strings pulled. For her, it was as if she’d met someone impressive, with the poise and finesse of a long-term suitor. The manufactured chemistry was real for her she surrendered to it and let the passion take over. In the coming months we linked up in many major cities that our lifestyles had taken us. Sharing pleasurable weekends, lavish hotel rooms and endless memories. Throughout this time, I had my mind set on other things, ideas, and people, however whenever we met, I made it feel as if nothing else mattered. As if the clocks would come off the wall, our phones wouldn’t be switched on, and my attention would appear to be undivided.

Her demeanour changed, her mindset slowly shifted, yet I never had my heart set on anything that would last. A slut is a specimen that can be controlled for a period of time, once the honeymoon period dries, she can easily go back to her old ways. I never see the need to try to convert a slut for the long term, there’s innocent and chaste girls that were never poisoned in the first place that deserve that commitment, not girls that “had their fun”.

As time went past, the level of effort she would put in would continue to exceed whatever little effort I exerted. She would travel to my city, change her schedule to suit mine, spend excessive amounts of $ for things to please me. I realised her level of investment signaled her desire for something more. I’m sure many men would settle for this, and many in the west won’t even experience this. But I simply couldn’t give in to this. Girls come and go, standards remain.

The experience spanned many months, countries, venues and scenes. Ultimately, I’ll be that asshole that didn’t commit in her eyes, she’ll be that girl that tried too hard but lost herself before she even met me. I’ll be in her memories for years to come, with every guy she meets from here on in being compared to me. She’ll be another slut that just got used and thrown out like yesterday’s garbage.

 

Inflated Egos.

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Try to picture this life, except with the sex roles reversed. Every one of your trivial observations or random thoughts gets “upvoted”, literally and metaphorically, by throngs of admirers, mostly female but some male too. Your lauded accomplishments amount to sharing cute puppy pics. Say something stupid? No one will call you out on it. Make a lame joke? Everyone laughs uproariously. Post a drunken photo of yourself? Hundreds of chicks “like this” and cheer in unison, “you go, guy!”. Tell no one in particular that you are sad, and you’re having a bad day? Hundreds more line up to offer uplifting messages of support.

Social network mediums like Facebook and Twitter have contributed to the bloating of the Western female ego by giving her access to the admiration of ARMIES of would-be suitors (the equivalent of a handful of suitors in pre-internet fame times), and to an emotional support system that numbers in the hundreds, even thousands, over the relatively tiny social circle her grandmother was grateful to have in her day.

Today, it is insidiously easy for a woman in her peak attractiveness years to attention whore. If you want to know why so many women so readily whore for attention, the answer is simple: because they can. Cute puppy pic —> cascade of high fives. Who wouldn’t avail themselves of that quick ego fix?

Female hypergamy is real, is different from male “dating up” (which is closer to polygamy in nature), and has consequences in the aggregate on marriage and divorce rates. Women want to look up to higher status men; men want to look *at* beautiful women. In our rapidly de-masculinizing, anti-White male, pro-tankgrrl culture, men are in a status free-fall. Knowing this is all you need to explain why women initiate 70% of divorces.