Wednesday, May 29, 2013

What Penis Envy Looks Like

What does penis envy look like? A feminist usually. The career driven, materialistic woman, devoid of feminine surrender to masculine dominance attempts to fulfill herself and the void within her with material objects. She envies the man and the masculine attributes of accomplishment, success, and work. Quite accurately, a woman has a void, a vagina, which is penetrated and filled with a penis. The man imbues her with his essence and if he is dominant enough, she engulfs herself in his being, taking on many of his aspects and personality traits.

A woman doesn't love football. But she meets a man and falls in love. She begins to take on his interests, be filled with who he is, and adopts an interest in football. She does this is in her own way of course. For a woman, football is about social time. The game is nearly irrelevant. She roots for her man's team and not the home team. She is given direction by him. 

The feminine is organic, non-linear. It twists and turns. Quite accurately, we refer to mother nature because nature best represents the feminine. In nature there are no right angles, there are only curves and swirls. There are leaves and stones. A woman is an empty vessel, she is water and assumes the form of man nearest her. 

But what happens when a woman is abandoned? Some argue that a woman's greatest fears is that of abandonment. But there are few times she is abandoned. In modernity, with the absence of the dominant masculine to fill her, she finds her fulfillment in two places. One is through object insertion. Through wanton materialism, she seeks to take into herself and her psyche, the objects surrounding her. The things she buys grants her a temporary reprieve from her fear of abandonment. What is abandonment? It can only be described as a sea without the bedrock underneath it, an unholy existence. And all fears are derived of the fear of death.

The second way she is filled is through the state. The dominant social paradigm foisted on her is the closest thing to a masculine embrace that many often know. She looks with envy and lust to the trappings of power. She seeks to consume that power and control it by proxy. She consumes through her orifice and greedily engulfs her dominant ideology. Through the proxy of sex, the female may gain power over others while relieving herself of the consequences of that power. She need not hold overt power, instead wisely consuming the phallus from her nest. 

It is by nature of irrevocable balance that as her overt power is established she loses the covert nature and instead is inundated with the trappings of consequence and responsibility. She is held accountable. Not only that but as she assumes the masculine she can no longer rely on the feminine within herself to provide consolation. Any man she attaches too will be less than likely to support her emotionally. Even if she requests it and the man agrees and heaps praise and commendation on her, she recoils from him as something inhuman, an aberration, since she is guided by her spirit. She has rejected the feminine within herself and out of an unconscious wisdom she concisely rejects that spirit within any other she finds and in particular within a man. To maintain this frame of masculinity within woman she must be inundated with constant propaganda which condemns the feminine and praises the masculine in her since without this she will revert back to nature. 

By feminizing man he is instilled with a lack of his own essence. By condemning the masculine within man he suffers nearly the same fate as penis envy. That useless phallus, which he neither penetrates with, nor understands is used only in the symbolic consumption of rudimentary sex through masturbation. Because he has been feminized, he lacks a definable, stable source to draw his strength from. Instead he seeks out the same desires as the woman, wishing object insertion to placate his new-found instability. The feminized man is neither bedrock nor water. He is the abhorrent mix of the two. He is clay, easily shaped, easily controlled, seeking after the material for reasons unknown to him since he has become an unconscious vessel of the feminine. 

However, once enough water mixes with clay both sexes of the species become little more than mud, useless to anyone, devoid of spirit, devoid of sexuality and this new species is largely androgynous and asexual, kept in check only through the constant authority of violence and the constant pursuit of objects. For what reason they know not.

Continue Reading: Reverse Sexual Imprinting

Sunday, May 26, 2013

Heavy is the head

"Are you alpha?" She asks when they meet. And the man, young and strong answers, "of course." He laughs.  He's cocky, the girl notices, and a little arrogant but she can't help herself. He's got it, she thinks. She knows it beyond any words. And the two start to date.

The sex is passionate and comes regularly and the man thinks. "I've found something here.  My special one." And they talk about commitment. And they talk about children. And they talk about marriage. And the man can't see himself with anyone else and the woman is awash in bliss from his masculine embrace and the man is strengthened by her feminine allure so he proposes.

"Are you still alpha," she asks after the wedding and he smiles and reassures her that he is still the alpha male she fell in love with. And she says, "Oh okay, just checking." And she loves him and bares his children and there is love everywhere.

"Are you still alpha?" The woman asks as they raise their children together and the man says he is still alpha. Maybe he is a little older, a little slower, maybe not quite as quick to answer, but he's still there. He's still strong enough to support her, to lend her the strength she needs to be her best. And they raise their children and love one another.

Then one day he comes home from work. A bad day, a long day with traffic and stress and overtime. And he's exhausted.  "Are you still alpha," she asks. And it's too much for him. He hangs his head and sighs. "No honey, I'm not. I'm tired from working so much for our family. I need to take a break for awhile. Just to rest. Just to relax for a little bit. You understand right?"

And she says she understands but hypergamy doesn't. And the slow peck of alpha testing turns into a thump and then a hammer and with each test he fails she grows colder, wider, and sadder. She becomes depressed and restless. She shops too much and can barely bring herself to sleep in a bed with her husband. She can't say what's the problem, doesn't know, maybe doesn't care. And though her looks have faded she's started to notice the other men around her, wondering if one them might bring some excitement into her life.

Years go by and the old defeated alpha male feels detached to the woman in his bed. They rarely have sex. They rarely talk beyond the planning of the day. And he'll often slip into bed beside her and wait until she's breathing heavy before he goes to the bathroom. He turns the shower on and jerks off dreaming about the girl down the street or the new girl in his department. He's thought of leaving his wife but there's the kids and the house. He wonders how his life came to this. When he's done he goes back to bed and he understands that old adage he's heard but often dismissed:  heavy is the head which wears the crown.

A Video Game Rant

The older I get the less I enjoy new video games. Maybe it's a part of me that is changing, which I don't doubt, but a lot of things in gaming irritate me, and I want to explain why.

Video games are an inferior way to tell a story. Most stories in a game lack any depth or emotion. The first thing anyone attempting to write a story should ask themselves is this. Why would anyone care about this character? I don't have a connection to a character just because they exist. There has to be something more. Either make the character high status or make them emotionally appealing because it is that emotion and intrigue which garners player's to those characters. Just because your character exists and looks cool is not enough for me. As stories go, there have been so few that have ever intrigued me enough to care about any of the characters involved.

Another problem I have with games is how the story is told. I'm playing Max Payne 3 now and the story is awful. I don't know what's going on and nor do I care, but what makes it irritating is the fact that it detracts from the experience of immersion within the environment. In Max Payne 3 the typical level is very short. You run forward, shoot some guys, and then experience a cutscene which you usually can't skip. These scenes are so uninteresting and jarring to the experience that I often quit playing because of it. At best, I'll play Max Payne 3 once and then never again.

I don't play games for a story. I have thousands of books lining my shelves if I want to read a story. I don't need story in my games. I need games in my games. I understand that a lot of people seem interested in games because of the story but I'm not one of them. Not unless that story can show some real pathos and some understanding of the minutia of storytelling itself.  The problem is that many games now force a player into investing in the story.

There are some games who tell good stories. These stories are usually minimal though. Dead Space 1 and 2 had good stories largely because nearly all of the storytelling was optional. You could skip all the cutscenes which makes multiple playthroughs much more enjoyable. One of the banes in modern gaming is the studios reliance on cutscenes for storytelling. Don't ruin the immersion of your atmosphere by pulling a player out of it through an intrusive and needless cutscene.

There are some exceptions which I want to point out. To me, Mass Effect 1 and 2 were great examples of stories I don't care about. What Mass Effect 3 did right was allowing for a more streamlined game without all the dialogue portion.

There are many good examples of how to tell a good story, most of them are from Bethesda. Any Elder Scrolls game is going to have an excellent story behind it and I won't mind sitting through all of the dialogue and cut scenes even on multiple playthroughs. They rarely detract from immersion and often add to it. Fallout 3 is another great example which is largely driven by the emotions inherent in a child going in search of their missing father. Hint to designers, we all have families and there's a reason why so many great films and books center around familial relations.

Another point about storytelling. If you're going to make your villain the epitome of evil, try and explain why they became that way. Some sociopaths might have an innate tendency for murder and exploitive power but most endured abuse as children or other difficulties sending them into the dark side.

The atmosphere is the story. There are no cutscenes in real life and this jarring juxtaposition between an interactive environment needs to be reduced as minimal as possible. Resident Evil, and most survival horror, must understand the relationship between the player and the atmosphere. Not all games need to have a dark sense of dread and looming danger. Bioshock and Borderlands 2 are great examples of games with amazing and fun moods. Part of the problem as I see it, is that the people who are needed to code a lot of these games are not going to be the most expressive, creative, and interesting people. It takes a certain type of person who can both write code and write an appealing novel and most people have one element but not both.

I want to lose myself in a challenging experience of a game. I want to be forced to master those encounters with intricate, pinpoint precision. I want a constantly escalating struggle pushing me to my limits, forcing me to master every encounter, understand every aspect of the gameplay, memorize attack patterns, and then be rewarded for my efforts. This brings me to my next point on modern gaming.

Difficulty is something I want in a game. Needless to say, I start every game on the hardest setting. It wasn't always like this however. In the past, difficulty settings were often non-existent and many of the games were extremely challenging. I grew up playing Battle Toads, Ninja Gaiden, and Contra so my level of frustration and challenge is probably higher than the gamers today who've had a lifetime of Assassin's Creed easy-mode-fits-all. If there is one way to get to give up on your game it's too make it too easy. I want multiple difficulty settings from the start.

My biggest gripe in Skyrim is how easy the game is. For it to be challenging I have to self-impose a new difficulty setting where I don't use blacksmithing, I don't use enchanting, and I don't use stealth. Then the game is a challenge but it seems to be something Elder Scrolls love to do, let players break their game and go god mode.

Shaking camera. God of War 3 is a great game encompassing the majority of things I love about games. Brain busting difficulty, great combat, and great rewards but one thing that irritates me is the use of shaking cameras. It is disorienting and frustrating and I don't feel a sense of grandness or danger from the atmosphere because the camera is shaking. I feel dizzy.

Where God of War 3 goes wrong is in continuing with the dreaded Real Time Events which I've grown to hate. They were a poor novelty when they were first introduced and are terrible and overused now. They offer nothing to gameplay and in the case of God of War 3 detract from the the death animations of the monsters you're facing. Am I supposed to watch for the RTE or watch as Kratos murders a leviathan? Because I don't want to miss the event I always miss the death animations. I wish this fad would die it's well deserved death.

As with most things in entertainment, I'm not entertained by what is shoveled out of Hollywood, the publishing industry, and the gaming industry. These are just a few of my gripes from the current generation of gaming as it seems that the technology has advanced while a lot of the other elements of game design have not kept pace. It is too easy to make a pretty looking game with lots of grandiose cut scenes which add nothing to the game overall. Much of it in gaming and other entertainment is a lot of "sound and fury signifying nothing," as Shakespeare said.

Saturday, May 25, 2013

Shocking Study Sending Panic Through Feminist Groups

A new study released by Columbia university has revealed some remarkable findings in sex differences between men and women.  The study, conducted by Leah Manhater found that men, on average, have more penises than women. The research was conducted with billions of tax payers money and found a conclusive link between men and penises which spanned all cultures and ethnicity.

"The findings were conclusive," Manhater said, "Men seem to have penises more than women." It was tallied that 99% of men had a penis and less than 1% of women had a penis.

Outrage has been sweeping across the feminist community as they react to this recent finding. One feminist, known as Jennifer Gargantuan had this to say. "Oppression. The only reason men have more penises than women is because of a millennia of patriarchal oppression. This should only redouble our quest for equality. Women should be encouraged to grow penises from an early age." Planned Parenting is looking into the matter.

While the study had conclusive findings some are challenging the assertion. One women's studies scientist is doing research into the penis gender gap in her latest book, "Woman Of the Cock." In it she claims that not only is there no penis gender gap but women have bigger penises than men and know how to use them a lot better.

The study has also managed to attract some political attention as well. "This is an outrage," Secretary of State Hillary Clinton said, "I've had a penis my whole life and I won't stop until every woman has a penis which is as equally as small as my husbands."

Hugo Dickless, a male feminist, has taken proactive measures to end this misogyny by castrating himself and donating it to his wife. "I wasn't using it. It's best she have it since she usually pegs my anus four nights a week anyway."  He also created a new website,, in which men can donate their useless cocks to women. Their slogan, "Chop off the cock. End oppression," has received shrugs from most feminist groups.  They've had a total of 0 participants but are expected to receive funding from the government for the next two centuries.

Obama made his own statement on the matter. "Not only do women have large and voluptuous penises but Michelle's is larger than mine which you can tell by my gaping asshole."

Continue Reading: The Littlest Feminist

Monday, May 20, 2013

Language, Concsiousness, and Reincarnation.

Just because I say I believe in reincarnation does not mean we believe in the same reincarnation. This is my take on language and linguistics. What the passive, submissives of society do in order to understand a word is to rush to the dictionary. A dictionary is intrinsically totalitarian in its view of language. Though not without merit it may come as a shock to many that a dictionary does not actually define words. A dictionary defines common usage. The people, and more particularly the individual, is the one who defines language. Shakespeare made up dozens of words. The word assassin, for example, is his creation. And there are many other examples of writers and speakers forming their own words and their own definitions of words.

Likewise, a dominant personality is not beholden to the dictionary definition of a term. To seek a centralized authority is to abstain from personal sovereignty and to adhere to the idea of a dictionary being the de facto source of language is thought control since the abdicators of that language may change or alter the definition of a word and thus the thoughts inherent with that word as they choose.

Instead I view language as an essentially personal form of communication. Personal definitions are more adequate. There is a distinction though which must be demonstrated. The dichotomy in language is one between concepts and objects. A forest would not exist without human observation and naming of a thing but a tree would still remain. The tree becomes an object and a definite, nearly unflappable definition is appropriate. The more ambiguous a concept the more of a sovereign definition is required.

In an ideal world the only language we would need would be mathematics as the ambiguity of it has never existed. But the inconsistency and subjectivity of a word is not a mathematical format. Mathematics does not change but is only discovered. Language changes constantly and so any definition must also be as apt to be changed as well but only in the realm of the individual.

So I do believe in reincarnation but not in the sense that others do. I do believe in a God but this God is so different from what others think, it's best for the layman, those uninterested in hearing the logic of the divine, to just consider me an atheist. Atheists, as far as I have found, are as closed-minded about the nature of God  as the religious dogmatists are to atheism.

My definition of reincarnation differs from the mainstream so much that it may as well be called a new word and if I can dream up a word with enough panache I'll be sure to use it ,but for the time the word closest to my definition of reincarnation is consciousness. Consciousness is a term which recently has been introduced or reintroduced, largely by science and the New Age to forgo any nominal comparisons to the soul. It was once considered that spirit, soul, and consciousness were all the same things and the definitions are so similar that the lack of science to have any understanding of consciousness is not surprising  Foremost, the study of consciousness defies most parameters of scientific study in that it is not weighable, measurable, or verifiable.

Consciousness is. It is a dimensionless form of which one can only understand through experience. Let us compare an arm and a brain for a moment to elucidate a point of consciousness. An arm moves and creates motion. We don't point to the arm and say arm is motion and yet too often the semi-autistic scientist, possessed of his own dogma, will stare at a brain and deduce that brain is consciousness. An arm generates motion, or applies laws of motion if you will, in the same manner in which a brain generates consciousness. But brain is not consciousness. It is brain.

Similarly to the dichotomy of the concept and the object is the split between the dimensional and the dimensionless. Forgive me for assuming you've not studied Descarte but I'll need to go over some of his concepts. Truth exists absolutely because the opposite is impossible. Therefore, since truth exists it follows that something exists. If something exists than something must be in recognition of that thing. Action must exist. Thought must exist. This thing must be a thinker since there is no action without a subject. This observation is the preeminent of understanding consciousness. It validates the idea that, not only is the dimensionless, the realm of thought and consciousness, real but it also challenges the assertion that anything but the dimensionless realm exists.

Knowing that my definition of reincarnation is more similar to the idea that consciousness exists which is immutable and absolute. The perfect does not change. Only imperfection changes as it seeks out perfection. So there is consciousness, it is immutable and eternal. There is truth now but there are also true non-absolutes. Crocodiles exist is true but I can't verify they exist now or even now.

Understanding that perfection does not change points to the dangers of dictionaries. A dictionary may be called a state, a form of government. It seeks to halt the change of language, not contribute to it. Just as the state places any business in which it enters into a state of economic stagnation bereft of market forces of innovation and competition, so to does a dictionary attempt to halt this evolution. But the imperfect will always change and hence a dictionary can only record transitory definitions. 

Which brings me to duality for it must be present if there is to be any consciousness. Since we know there is consciousness we know that there is duality. If we assume the mantle of God and attempt to form a universe from scratch, what is the most finite principle we can create? We begin with the concept of value itself and the most finite value is one. But one cannot exist or recognize its existence without duality so two must also be formed. At this point consciousness can recognize itself by what it is not.

The failure of language is that it requires words to define other words and so is self-limiting. It is also limiting to education and experience of the speaker and listener. This is one of the failing of religion which I believe is philosophy for the conceptually disabled. The Buddha and Lao Tsu understand concepts beyond the limiting purview of  language. It was their failure at the time to elucidate what they were saying. Their understanding however often transmutes their explication of that knowing. The Tao which can be told is not the eternal Tao.

But this reincarnation I believe in is not really personal. It is the reincarnation of the spirit and not of the individual. It is more similar to a collective soul, a rebirth of consciousness independent of the individual but that is for another time.

Sunday, May 12, 2013

The Family is Dead. Cui Bono?

Single parents are a bane on society as all evidence dictates. A large portion of mate selection in females is determined by financial success of the male. There is a direct correlation between a depression and a decrease in marriage and an increase in divorce. The basis of mate selection is hypergamy. To reject hypergamy is a total rejection of the red pill.

To assume that a woman becomes dependent on a man because she doesn't have a career is to denigrate the role of mother and elevate the role of provider. Instead it's best to view traditional family roles as interdependent where each provides to the best of their ability for the other. The wife rears and fosters children and the husband provides and protects those children.

There is no need for forced gender roles. They occur naturally. Propaganda is used only to enforce the unnatural. There is no need to try and convince teenagers to have sex, for example. They do it naturally. Feminism is the propaganda which has elevated the role of provider to the stratosphere and relegated the role of nurturer to a derogatory term.

My thoughts on how to run a society in modernity is to bring a sort of soft segregation where women are encouraged to be wives and mothers but in their free time they could work for charity organizations.
The problem with integration is that men and women compete against each other and then see one another as the enemy instead of how they truly are, complementary pairs who work in unison.

Men need male spaces to compete against each other. They don't want to compete against women as their is nothing to gain from it. Once an area becomes feminized there is "male flight" from that sphere, see education and psychology.

The problem is that modern technology has decreased the amount of time spent on housework. No one wants to be bored. By giving women their own space, their own goals, and "hunting grounds" in non-profit work they can contribute, be occupied, and know that they're helping their communities. This also solves problems such as sexual harassment and gender quotas. Diversity doesn't benefit anyone but those who profit from division.

Not too long ago, in the time before social security, there was this thing called family. It was social security. The older generations knew that if they screwed up raising their children they would pay for it in their elder years because the young would be the ones who protected and provided for the old. But they have social security. The disconnect between the young and the old is just as great and important as the disconnect between men and women.

The thing about marriage is the same thing about family. When the old were dependent on the young for their survival they made families work. When women and men were dependent on each other they made marriage work. Strong bonds were formed, strong families, and strong nations. Now everyone is independent and isolated, weak and easily controlled.

Cui bono?

Wednesday, May 8, 2013

The Littlest Feminist 2

The Littlest Feminist trotted through the jungle alone. "I am a big girl," she told herself for the hundredth time.  The jungle was dim. The canopy of trees overhead blocked out the sun. The jungle was large. The jungle stirred with strange noises. The Littlest Feminist felt small. "I am not afraid," she said as her heart pounded in her chest, as her hands began to shake. "I am a big girl." Her voice cracked. She swallowed and began walking again.

As she walked she heard the noises: the animal calls, the wind, the hoots, even a howl. "That doesn't scare me," she whispered gulping down some air.

She stopped. The sound of rustling in the bushes beside her drew her attention. Her head snapped. She heard the growl and saw the body fly through the air. White and black and orange stripes flew at her. The jaws, the teeth, the fangs. She froze, transfixed, rooted to the spot. A tiger, her mind conjured.

Then she heard a bang like thunder. She saw a flash of light like lightning. A rifle shot loud enough to shake her ears. The tiger roared a pathetic forlorn moan and instead of a glorious pounce it's body crumbled. Its momentum ceased.

The Littlest Feminist turned around, wondering if Daddy had come back to find her. He probably needed her help, she thought.

"Daddy?" She called in the direction of the gunshot. But it was not Daddy that emerged from the bush but a strange boy.

"Are you lost?" the strange boy asked.

"No," she said, "Yes, I mean but I'm not scared." And she realized that she wasn't scared anymore. She was so brave.

"We need to go," the man said. "Follow me." He gestured.

"You're not my boss," The Littlest Feminist said, stamping a foot. She pointed at herself. "Big girl," she said. "Got it?  She huffed. "I don't need you."

"You'd be dead right now if I hadn't followed you here."

"You're not the boss of me," the Littlest Feminist said again and then walked over to the tiger's body. The tiger lay clumped in the dirt, drawing his last breaths. "Bad tiger," she admonished. "That's a bad tiger. No more tiger's attacking little girls. You understand? You're mean and I won't have it. Bad tiger." She kicked the tiger again and hurt her toe though she didn't say anything lest her bravery fail. The tiger's chest lifted one last time and then never rose again. "I killed it," she exclaimed. "I'm a hero."

"I think I had something to do with it," the boy said.

"Don't be so silly, boy. You have such a big ego."

"I shot it!"

"All you think about is yourself!"

"Are you on medications?" The boy asked quietly.

"Only prozac, lithium, and paxil."


"Well if things were fair I wouldn't need to take so many but things aren't fair. Boys don't understand stuff. See you're a bicycle."

"What?" the boy asked, scratching his head.

"A bicycle. Boys are bicycles and I got feet so why would I need a bicycle?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Boys and fishes and girls. You wouldn't understand these things. Not a boy, no. It's very sophisticated feminist stuff."

"Where did you hear that?"

"I read it in one of my coloring books."

The boy stared at the Littlest Feminist for a long time. He stared as one stares at an alien object.  Then the tension in his eyes waned. He seized the Littlest Feminist by the hand began leading her through the jungle

"I'm being oppressed," she said, though his touch was gentle and she had to admit that she felt a sudden stirring deep inside her. She pushed it down though as a sign of her oppression.

The sun soon rose and the canopy of darkness lifted slightly. They walked through the whole day, the boy eventually dropping her hand. She followed at her own pace, letting him think he was leading.

Later the boy stopped. "Look," he said pointing up into the trees. Yellow, ripe bananas dangled just out of reach overhead. "Hungry?" He asked. The Littlest Feminist nodded. "I'll get us some food."

He tried to leap up and grasp at the bananas but they were out of reach. "This won't work," he said. He thought for a moment. "Alright, why don't you stand on my shoulders."

"Why don't stand on mine?" The Littlest Feminist asked.

"Sure," The boy said.

It took two tries before the boy realized it was hopeless. The Littlest Feminist was too little. She kept dropping him. The second time he slipped off her shoulders he landed and hit his head on something. The Littlest Feminist laughed.

"Why don't I get on your shoulders?" The Littlest Feminist said.

The boy rubbed his head and stood. He nodded. The Littlest Feminist came over and he knelt down. She crawled up on top of him and he was surprised how light she felt. "Hold still," she commanded. He hoisted her up. He spread his legs and planted his feet. She was easy to carry.

The Littlest Feminist stood atop his shoulders and she felt big. "This is what a big girl feels like," she said. She stared around at the jungle. It wasn't so scary after all. She was tall and strong. "This was a great idea," she said. "I'm glad I thought of it."

The boy offered no protest.

Then something changed in the Littlest Feminist. She looked down at the boy and it was as if he were invisible. He was not a boy, she decided. He was something else. She tried to name it but got bored and then forgot about him entirely.

She felt so tall, so strong. "I'm so tall," she said.

"Get the bananas," he said.

"Taller than you are. And smarter too." She stared around the jungle, thrilled with her new found glory. She ignored the protests in her belly, that feeling that something was missing, something was not quite right. Daddy? No, she did not need a daddy or a little boy. She was a fish or was it a bicycle?

"Bananas," the boy shrieked and though she was light at first, her weight was beginning to tax him.

She looked up, remembering the bananas. She pulled one off the vine. She peeled it and stuffed it in her mouth then dropped the peel. She pulled another off the tree and ate it.

"Hurry up," the boy said. His knees began to wobble.

The Littlest Feminist started to stuff herself with the fruit.

"Save some for me," the boy protested.

"Don't be so needy."

"I can't do this much longer," he said. He was straining to stand. Her shoes were digging into his shoulders.

"I'm so tall," she remarked, "And these bananas are so good."

"I'm going to fall," the boy called out.

"I'm going to stay this tall forever," the Littlest Feminist said.

Then the boy's legs collapsed. He fell. The girl's weight crashed down on him and their bodies tangled with each other. "Rape!" The Littlest Feminist cried.

"Get off me," the boy ordered. They untangled themselves and stood.

"I was taller than you," The Littlest Feminist said, noticing that she had to look up at the boy, which gave her butterflies in her belly which she righteously destroyed. "What did you do to me?" The Littlest Feminist asked. "I was taller than this. Taller than you. I could see so far."

"You were never taller than me," the boy said.

"You tricked me," she complained.

The boy pointed. "We'll come to my village if we keep on this direction." And without waiting for her to follow he set off through the jungle.

Not soon after, the jungle cleared and a village came in sight. "I made it," The Littlest Feminist declared, pleased with herself.

"You're so arrogant," the boy said.

"You're just a bitter loser."

"I'm done with you," the boy said and walked away.

"Why are you so angry?" She asked but the boy ignored her and trudged off toward the village. "He's just intimidated by a big girl," she reasoned. But he was getting really far away and she didn't want him to get lost without her so she ran to catch up to him.

Arrogant, she thought. He was wrong. She wasn't arrogant. She was humble. She was the most humble!

Continue Reading: Language, Consciousness, and Reincarnation

Tuesday, May 7, 2013

Democracy is stupid

If democracy is a superior form of rule than why don't corporations follow a democratic model?

If democracies ban drugs because people can't be trusted with the freedom to choose than how can they be trusted with choosing leaders?

No Fap Report Day 1

So after watching this video and exploring the fapstronaut reddit I've decided to take the plunge. I figure I have nothing else to lose. Not only am I giving up internet porn but also masturbation. I'm going to use this blog as a way to record my success and the results.

Some things that I'm hoping will improve.

1. Sleep - my sleep schedule has ruined my life. And by sleep schedule I mean no schedule because I wake up and fall asleep at different times. I've tried to reign this in for decades with drugs, alarm clocks, meditation. The problem is the same. It takes me 2-3 hours to wake up every day and it takes nearly as long to fall asleep.

2. Anxiety - I'm anxiety prone, nervous, and usually this happens for little or no reason.

3. Focus - this has become a greater problem lately. My focus is terrible. I used to read several books a week. Now I can't read a book at all. It doesn't interest me. In fact, I have very few interests anymore. I struggle to watch most movies because my mind just soars off somewhere else and I lose the plot.

Day 1 is going well and strong. No overt urges. After reading the reddit for awhile it seems like a the first week is the hardest. They refer to withdrawal symptoms and the fact that you'll feel worse the first few days out. But I've been through hard withdrawals before so I know the great secret of suffering is this: endure, endure, endure with the knowledge that this too shall pass.

So let my journey into the Fapless Zone commence.

Thursday, May 2, 2013

The Littlest Feminist

"Daddy, I love you," says the Littlest Feminist. 

"I love you too princess. I'd do anything for you."

"Anything, Daddy? Really?"

"Of course." 

"Well I want things to be fair."

"I don't see what's not fair, honey."

"I'm not tall like the basketball player. Make it fair."

And then the daddy did his best to make it fair but the Littlest Feminist was not pleased.

"Daddy, it's not fair. I'm not smart like the scientist. Make it fair." 

And the daddy did his best to make it fair but the Littlest Feminist was not pleased.

"Daddy I'm not rich like a millionaire." 

Again daddy did everything he could to make the Littlest Feminist a millionaire.

"Daddy, someone called me a bad name. Daddy, I'm not as beautiful as a model." 

Daddy did everything he could for the Littlest Feminist and worked until he was too tired to stand.

"That's all I can do, princess. There's nothing more. I'm tired from working so hard."

"I don't need you, Daddy. I'm independent. I'm a big girl."

"Of course you are, princess."

"I don't want you around me, daddy. Leave me alone. You're mean and it's not fair. I'm not happy and it's all your fault. Fix it daddy. I want you to leave me alone because I'm a big girl and I don't need a daddy. I can do it all on my own." 

"I'll leave then, princess." And the daddy left.

"Daddy is gone. Now I'm a big girl." The littlest feminist looked around and realized there was no one left to give her things. There was no one left to call for help. There was no one even left to talk to. "Daddy come back," she cried. 

"Daddy, it's not fair. It's not nice here and I'm lonely. Daddy, why did you leave me?" But there was no one to hear the Littlest Feminist's cries because daddy was gone. He went and rode a motorcycle, and went hunting, and spent time with his friends, and slept in till noon, and finally discovered what it was like to live for himself, and he lived happily ever after.

The end.

World War III

“History is littered with wars which everybody knew would never happen.” Enoch Powell

Linking this video. The publisher has several other videos to watch which go into detail on the petrol dollar. From the video I get the impression that the US is looking for some event to justify war with Iran, Syria, and China. I wonder what that event will be. WWIII seems as likely a scenario as a civil war. As someone pointed out it was thought that Germany and Great Britain  were too economically interdependent to fight each before WWII.

The Westermarck effect, or reverse sexual imprinting, is a hypothetical psychological effect through which people who live in close domestic proximity during the first few years of their lives become desensitized to later sexual attraction.
In other words, the taboo against incest is not just social but biological. This has been observed in children who are not related but are raised in close proximity to each other. They rarely marry or have sex.

There is a stereotype that black men like fat women. It might not be a stereotype. One theory is that it happens because of sexual imprinting in childhood. The boy derides some of his sexual nature from the mother. If the mother is fat, he's more likely to prefer fat women when he gets older. The boy does not develop sexual feelings for his mother however because of the westermarck effect.  Sexual imprinting also helps to understand many fetishes.

Foot fetishes are very popular. If the male child is visual, and derives his sexual impulses from visual stimuli, than it's easier to understand where this fetish comes from. Children are short and often crawl about at the feet of their mother. The majority of people in the BDSM community were often spanked as children where the child's brain could easily correlate the love of a parent with the pain and embarrassment of spanking.

There are few relationships with a greater power differential than between a father and his daughter. The reality of hypergamy is that without the Westermarck effect daughters would be constantly trying to sleep with their fathers.

Black women's perceived sexual market value is often extremely overrated. Especially to white men who were generally raised by thinner mothers. However, if mothers are getting fatter, it's possible that the new generation of boys, regardless of race, will be more attracted to fat women. This will raise the value of fat women and fat acceptance could easily become fat praise. And it gets worse. If the feminization of males continue these fat women are likely to become mean and nasty. Not only that but if they don't mate select for financial reasons, they'll only do so for alpha status. It's possible that fat women will inherit the earth. The blogger who wrote that the future of America is what black society is today could be close to the truth, especially if the middle class is eliminated.

Wednesday, May 1, 2013

How We Can Win

The MRA is in its infancy, it's weak, scattered, lacks funds, and faces an entrenched juggernaut known as feminism. Knowing that, we must choose our fights carefully. No matter how pressing many issues are, most should be ignored until later. I know the temptation to fight for injustice everywhere it's found. I know you hold sympathy for men and boys suffering in this system but we must not divide our attention. We believe we're right but history is full of defeated armies who believed in the righteousness of their cause. Any battle against feminism is unwinnable at this point. Except one.

Feminists are quite literally obsessed with rape to the point of madness. In fact, anything that has to do with sex and reproduction is their turf. And like any other gang they'll be willing to die to defend what they consider theirs. We will lose every fight. Except one.

Consider how important image is. The MRA is seen as weak, impotent, and hopeless. This image is so strong that many in the fight for men's rights believe it themselves. How great of a boon to the MRA would a decisive, public victory against feminism be?

What, my dear brothers and sisters, do we have to lose? When you're in the sewers even the gutter is an upgrade. What I propose is for all MRAs, and anyone in support of men's issues, to adopt the fight for the male pill and put this at the forefront of everything we do. Here's why.

Young men will line up to get on the pill. Young, healthy males are the least likely demographic to seek medical help. The male pill targets that exact demographic. The drug companies know the numbers. They know the demographic. They can't ignore it. Their lobbyists will be, in effect, on our side.

Feminism was, initially, a huge success for the economy. The workforce nearly doubled, the housing market grew because of divorce, and women earning a paycheck also put most of that money back into the market. Looking at the numbers, it was insane not to support it. If men want men's issues supported they need to make it economical to do so.

The image of a victory will be the most important thing. If we appear to win, appear to be strong, it won't matter that we only rode the victory on the coattails of the drug companies. It will be a symbolic victory but just as important because the male pill is going to happen whether MRAs get involved or not. The MRA can co opt this for their benefit by making it appear as though we are stronger and have more power than we do. And this image of strength, no matter how ephemeral, will draw attention and support from those who can only follow strength. No one loves a loser and if we try to fight uphill battles, beleaguered as we are now, our image as losers will only solidify.

If I'm right and the male pill is inevitable because of economic forces, than anything feminist do will be ineffective. Not only will their opposition fail, the more they resist, the greater our victory will be. This is why we should draw a clear line between men's rights and feminism divided by the male pill. Not only do I believe we should try to fight for the male pill but should try to encourage feminists to fight against it. We should antagonize them, galvanize their resistance, and make it clear that the male pill is this decade's battle that feminism must win. Because they can't win and when they lose it will be our Battle of Concord, our shot heard round the world, that proves to the mighty juggernaut of feminism that women on pedestals can only fall.