First London falls, then England.

I quick glance at the headlines this morning almost made me spill my coffee. This imagined disaster of course did not unfold as I guard my coffee like a guard, well, my coffee. But the news that did bring me close to the precipice was an article in The Australian outlining the two main candidates to topple the hapless Theresa May.

Put your hand up if Boris Johnson was one of your immediate picks. Yes? Well done, you win a prize of watching me drink my coffee. So who is your second pick to go forth and save England? Waiting, waiting. Not sure?

Why, it’s a Pakistani Muslim called Sajid Javid. And it seems that he’s the front runner.

It looks like the Tories are determined not to deliver Brexit in any meaningful form, but to simply out-progressive the progressives.

Continue reading “First London falls, then England.”

An unseemly obsession.

Cappy has a review up of Roosh V’s new book, Game. I have not read the book myself, and nor do I plan to, but I found some aspects of the review interesting. The book is essentially a manual for picking up women, and by the sound of it Roosh has hit it out of the park in this respect. But something was bothering Cappy while he was reading the book and in the review he manages to identify exactly what this was.

Roosh has written the most pro-female book ever written, and that includes anything written by feminists.

I came to this conclusion when I noticed I was becoming increasingly pained, even depressed as I read “Game.” In part it was because it reminded me of my past and just how much effort, energy, and resources I poured into chasing women (with varying levels of success). In part it was the painstaking detail Roosh applied to every whim, desire, outcome, and variable of women and what they wanted. In part it was the new and Orwellian countermeasures men had to take as precautions against fake rape, assault, and harassment accusations. And it was the fact that Roosh has been at this for 15 years, reminding me of not only what he had to have gone through, but what I and millions of other men have as well.

I couldn’t put my finger on it until I was almost done with the book, but the reason why I was so pained, even depressed was because it showed how Roosh, of all people, had dedicated his entire youth to making women happy.

Which in other words means that Roosh has been chasing a mirage for the simple fact that you can never make women happy.

Continue reading “An unseemly obsession.”

Grifters and shysters.

A great speech from Rollo on the state of the manosphere and its future direction caught my attention on the weekend.

The manosphere has evolved into something that’s much more of a threat to the Gynocracy. Once Trump defeated Hillary, the stakes were raised. I’m not here to debate politics, but the gender landscape has undeniably, unignorably, altered in the two years since a hyper-masculinized man put down the bid of a hyper-gynocentrist female-supremacist woman for the presidency she believed she was entitled to. We didn’t witness Trump defeat Hillary, we witnessed HIM defeat HER. The Gestalt Masculine prevailed over the sure-thing, “her turn” presumed victory of the Gestalt Feminine …

You are never a ‘man’ to the resistance. To call you a man would be too old school patriarchal and aggrandizing. “Man” is reserved for the Alpha men women want to fuck. No, you are just an ‘ally’ and even then you’re only an ally so long as you remain useful. When that usefulness ceases, when you serve your purpose and look for approval from your mistress, when you hope to enjoy some reciprocal intimacy in return fo (sic) desired behavior, there’s now a new and much improved social convention ready made to remove you from the resistance

If we do not define the manosphere it will certainly be defined for us by others who only see it as a niche market to exploit. The manosphere will fall prey to the Brand of Me. The Success Porn gurus, the Cassie Jayes, the Purple Pill Life Coaches, the Men’s Rights Movement – even Vichy male organizations like The Good Man Project or We Are Man Enough will claim an authority over the manosphere that they’ve never merited all in order to build their own brands.

In other words, the grifters and shysters will soon be at the door and we had better be on the lookout.

Continue reading “Grifters and shysters.”

Sunday lifting thread – Good sessions and bad sessions.

As lifters we’ve all heard a phrase that goes something alone the lines of, “The only bad gym day is the one you miss.” This is true but it’s also not exclusive because the fact is that you can have very bad days indeed at the gym. Particularly if you lift heavy, and if you’re not lifting heavy then what’s your miserable excuse for being such a pussy?

On Monday I had a bad day at the gym. A bad day is not a day when lifting hurts. If you’re lifting heavy then every day at the gym hurts. I squat three times a week and every single time it hurts really bad. The squat reduces me to a miserable piece of flotsam trailing in the wake of an energized Bismark on its way to sink the HMS Hood. Every single time I take a huge breath, push out my knees, and go down in a squat I do not know if I’m going to have the strength to make it back up again.

And if I do manage to make it up it hurts. My head spins after 5 squat reps. My breathing is as heavy as if I’ve just sprinted between a set of goal posts. I usually lean against a wall and focus on something in the middle distance to regain my bearings, usually a nice set of tits that are jiggling up and down on the only piece of cardio equipment in the entire gym.

No, pain and hurt do not a bad day in the gym make. Pain and hurt is every gym day.

Continue reading “Sunday lifting thread – Good sessions and bad sessions.”