Adam Piggott

Gentleman adventurer

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Living a fearful life.

I caught up recently with one of my very old friends who I rafted together with in Uganda on the White Nile 20 years ago. One of the things that we discussed was the fear that we had before certain rapids. For my friend it was the Bad Place, the last rapid of the day and which required a take-out and portage just before it due to the size of the lead up rapid. With his feet on the ground but ready to step back into the raft, paddle around a little corner and straight into that 18 foot hole of oblivion, he always had that dull and awful fear.

For me it was sitting in a large eddy behind a boulder in the river above Total Gunga rapid. I only ever had two bad swims on the Nile and I had them there. Our video kayaker way downstream would raise his paddle high into the air, the signal to pull out into the strong current and begin the 400 meter long class 5 express train to the G Spot, the infamous wall of water that was hard to locate and hit but you needed to get there.

I always had the fear sitting in that eddy.

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The joy of skipping a meal.

I’m not a big eater, more of a grazer. What I most certainly not do is snack, which is probably why my weight has held steady all my adult life. The only issue that I have weight wise is splitting my pants in the inner thigh region, a recent phenomenon that is a cause of lifting heavy weights rather than eating. I dropped off to the tailor my third pair of pants in as many weeks, and this time he raised an eyebrow. I told him it was too many gym sessions and he said that it sure as hell wasn’t from eating too many hamburgers or fried chicken.

Actually, he said kebabs, but it doesn’t sound as good as fried chicken.

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Podcast #133 – The put yourself out there episode.

A great day touring The museums of The Hague and a weekend in Monaco put me in the mood for pontificating on why you need to put yourself out there.
Also, one of the most important adopted traits that make women vastly more attractive.

Link mentioned of the Panorama museum.

Friday hawt chicks & links – The Internet edition.

The Friday hawt chicks & links celebrates the liberation of Great Britain from the tyrannical tentacles of the European Union without a drop of blood being shed. I put this down not to the good faith of those involved, nor the supposed superiority of our morals in this time. If I have to choose a dominant factor that ensured that this did not play out on the battlefield it is simply the ease of access and dissemination of information that we now enjoy. After all, you’re reading these words, right? No matter where you are in the world you can enjoy the links and hawtness that is your regular Friday dose of goodness.

That’s pretty insane when you think about it. Rollo suspects that blogs are dead. I disagree. Blogs are very much alive. The ability to be able to reach all of you instantaneously when I click the publish button is simply unprecedented in our world’s history. People went stark raving bonkers over the printing press. Then came the telegraph, and then radio and television. But all of these had immense barriers to entry and start up costs.

Not the internet. Get on and write or record and then publish. Done. Which means an abundance of information, with most of that being pure rubbish. I get it when people run out of steam and I respect that completely. You can only do this for so long. But Brexit, baby. This came about because of the internet. The light shone on the attempted corruption and it shriveled and died. As recently as a decade ago they could have pulled the wool over our eyes, but no longer. All of the winning of the last 4 years can be directly laid at the feet of the inability of the powers at be to pour bullshit on propaganda any longer. That’s why this is not the Brexit edition – it’s the internet edition. The internet saves lives. Mark my words, not that long ago this rupture of the EU could very well have finished on the battlefield. Today it wasn’t even an option.

Long live Great Britain, long live Europe, long live the internet, and may the EU die an inglorious death. And with the preliminaries out of the way, let’s get cracking.

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Woke women are female incels.

Women hate rejection. It drives them crazy. Well, more crazy than normal. Actually I don’t know what’s normal these days. Last decade’s crazy is today’s girl you want to take home to mum. But you won’t because your mum is crazy too.

Women need to do the rejecting. It’s how they hold on to their precious few remaining grains of sanity. If they’re doing the rejecting then they’re in control. But if they are rejected then they’re cast into the nether regions of despair. A low sexual market value male rejecting a woman is one of the best moves available to him. Hell, you’re going to get rejected anyway so you might as well go out with a bang.

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Fear no Twitter.

From Taki:

It is probably the greatest irony ever: We fought a seventy-year battle against a totalitarian system that prohibited free speech, and having won it, we adopted the very system we defeated and imposed it on ourselves. The easiest way of shutting down free speech is by using the R-word. Call someone a racist and all doors close, and needless to say no smug progressive, no arch feminist, no super-woke riffraff has failed to use it at the slightest disagreement. It’s the easiest way to impose one’s opinion since the advent of the Colt 45.

Actually we live in an age where people want to cancel other people out, to disappear them. No one ever feared Torquemada or Savonarola as much as they fear the Twitter mob today.

The last line is the one that got me. At the moment my site is being hammered once again by a wave of unknown visitors coming from a strange and mystical location, also known as Facebook.

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Monaco, baby.

One of my very old friends, a rafting buddy who may or may not have featured prominently in one of my books, has been living in the principality of Monaco for the last few years. This weekend I jetted down to see him, which for me was my very first time in the south of France. Sunday was Australia Day, and the excuse was an Australian themed party at one of the local bars. So I hit up KLM, flew to Nice, and made the short journey up the coast to one of the most extraordinary cities it has been my pleasure to experience first hand.

Because it’s Monaco, baby.

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Podcast # 132 – The Intelligent Women episode.

The one where I go into detail as to why you want to avoid hooking up with a really smart chick. Fun times!

Friday hawt chicks & links – The Dalrock edition.

This is a sad week for the hawt chicks & links as Dalrock has announced that he is stepping back from blogging causing churchian pastors everywhere to breathe a sigh of relief. Whether it is due to him running out of subjects to write about or simply because he’s sick of dealing with trolls, I cannot say. It could be either of these reasons or something else entirely. But whatever the reason, he gave us a solid 10 years of exemplary writing, which he is going to leave up as an online resource, at least for now. Personally I think that he should put out a book of his best work. Hell, even his mediocre work would be just fine.

So this week is dedicated to you, Dalrock old chum. May your retirement from this corner of the internet be full and satisfying. Just don’t make the mistake of finding some other corner of the internet. I mean you don’t want to lose another 10 years, do you?

And onward we go.

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Men should avoid intelligent women.

Reader Eric took umbrage to my article on females wasting their time on college degrees, but not regards the central premise. Rather, he disagreed with my claim that men are only interested in women who are young, feminine and beautiful.

So, in regard to your assertion that: “Men want young, beautiful, feminine and dutiful women who will treat them well and honor them.”

While I do not disagree with the desireability of any of the qualities that you list here, I suggest that you are leaving out a very important one: intelligence. Men also want intelligent women.

Because, let’s face it, the opposite of intelligence, which is stupidity, is not a desirable trait in any potential mate, male or female. It’s not a desirable trait in any human being, potential mate or note.

So, I don’t care how beautiful or big-busted any woman is if she’s stupid. Stupid is a turn off, a buzzkill. Smart is sexy. (I think that works for both sexes.)

By the time I got to this part I thought to myself that Eric must be hooked up with an intelligent woman. Sure enough, he is. But even worse than that, she’s a redhead, and we all know my opinion about those dangerous creatures.

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