I have a bad temper.  Anger has lead me to do awful things.  I am candid about my anger – and my compulsivity – but I am not flippant about them.  What was once “Boys will be boys” is now Felony behavior.  I have come away unscathed, but not uninformed.

Anger isn’t a raised pulse or a histrionic fit.  Anger is a gate-way drug to rage and hatred.  Anger is poisonous and intoxicating.  Anger is not an aphrodisiac.  When I read Roosh’s article about anger as a female turn-on, I understood exactly why he said it.

But I disagree with what he said.

Roosh observes that, under certain circumstances, women are aroused by displays of anger.  There is a correlation, but that certainly doesn’t mean causation.  What Roosh is tapping into is the Make-Up/Break-Up sex phenomenon.  This isn’t about anger, it’s about fear of loss.

Once Upon A Time I knew a nice girl.  I was fucking the cokehead at the time.  Aimee was very smart and sweet.  I wasn’t looking for a serious relationship, so I rejected her advances.  We remained friends, but when she found out about the cokehead, and a handful of other girls I was sleeping with, she grew bitter.  One night, she raised her voice at me and I lost my temper.

I called her out on her jealous, possessive behavior.  We weren’t even dating!  What did she care who I was fucking?  I cut her off.

I knew exactly what I was doing when I did it.  I had never raised my voice at a girl before, but I knew how she would react.  I wasn’t trying to manipulate her, I was legitimately upset, but she immediately crumbled.  She left me a voicemail, pleading with me not to cut her out of my life.

Not long after that Aimee and I had a week-long sex romp.  She doted on me liked a prized stallion.

Roosh compares various sources of anger.  He says that he can cope with traffic and illness and unexpected nonsense.  What he cannot cope with are women who play games.  While this is somewhat ironic coming from a Pick-Up Artist, it isn’t hard to appreciate the sentiment.

Traffic and illness are not malicious.  A person who plays with your affection is.  They are being cavalier with something they don’t own: your feelings.  Being angry about this is understandable.  However, using that anger as a tool of manipulation is not fair play.

“While I definitely don’t recommend you use anger as a ‘move,’ I advise you not to hold back. If you’re being disrespected or slighted then you need to let her know as soon as it happens. Your dick will thank you later.”

On one hand, Roosh attempts to deny angry outbursts as “Game method”.  Then he immediately reverses himself, endorsing well-timed anger as a valid way to keep unruly women around.

Being in love is a Hell of a thing.  It teaches you about yourself – about how much you value yourself.  People look down upon those who let their spouses beat them and cheat on them because we know that those people have low self-worth.  If they hate themselves, why should we love them?

At the same time, if a person does not value you and treats you poorly, why should you value them?

A man on his game does not need anger.  That kind of Stanley Kowalski bullshit works, but not without a cost.  You can tell a lot about a man by what makes him lose his temper.  If you lose your composure over a girl simply because she does not call you back, or flakes on a date, then it shows just how emotionally invested in her you were.  If not because you genuinely value her, then because you are a shameless cooze-hound whose sense of self-worth is wrapped up in his ability to knock over pussy.

Simple displeasure will suffice.

If you suspect a girl is going to flake out on you, go on about your business.  If she doesn’t call, then the next time you speak to her voice your displeasure.  Your time is valuable, it was rude of her to blow you off.  Then cut her off.  If she values you, then she will recognize her mistake, apologize, and attempt to reconcile.

If she doesn’t, then save yourself a case of the Clap and don’t call her again.

Every heterosexual male has a system for rating women.  More often than not, it is the Base 10 system, or some variation of it.  It is difficult to innovate over the Base 10 because it is simple and functional.  The existence of Hot-or-Not proves this.  Unfortunately, what Base 10 fails to capture are differences in taste.  One man’s 8 is another man’s 6, and vice versa.

Most of the seduction community wants to believe that there is a hard-and-fast metric for physical attraction.  Apparently, evolutionary psychology tells me what makes my dick hard.  There is a valid point to be made about the correlation between quality breeding partners and physical attraction.  However, I’ve already laid into the narrow standard by which pick-up guys judge appearance.  As as for evolutionary psychology, I don’t think homosexuals got that memo.

There is a fetish and preference for every quirk of physical appearance.  Cultural and sub-cultural standards queer the meter.  I have had women sneer at me in disgust, while others grope and catcall me.

My taste has evolved over time as my sexual experiences color my preferences.  Being a fitness-minded man, I pay attention to different details than another guy might.  Personally, I like athletic women.  Preferably ones with big tits.  Preferably fake.  However, a little cushion is good for pushin’, and I’m pretty good at spotting whether or not a woman is a motivated fuck by the way she moves.

I don’t care how pretty she is, I refuse to fuck an inanimate object.

I had this discussion with a friend and he told me about his personal rating scale.  He rates women by time of night.  The earlier you would be willing to go home with someone, the more attractive they are.  This clever system takes several factors into consideration: alcohol consumption, quality of trim, and relative value to the circumstance.  It is also objective enough to be a standard.  A 10:00 PM girl is always hotter than a last call whore.  If she’s hot enough to actually cancel plans for, you’ve got yourself some premium trim.

My system is equally simple, and based on that other great passion of mine – Alcohol.  My metric doesn’t rate women based on particular physical characteristics (i.e. measurements), but rather by their rarity, the intensity of their desirability, and how good you would feel in the morning.

Top Shelf (9-10)  It’s nice if you can afford it, and you’ll go out of your way to get it.  Rarity means being hard to come by, not to mention the added cost.  However, most men will pony up if given the opportunity.  Top shelf girls are 10:00 PM girls.  Hell, these are three-martini lunch girls.

Call Brand (7-8)  These women have distinctive character or good marketing.  Fortunately, you can find them in almost every bar.  Not a bad way to start off the night.  Or end it.  Call girls are midnight girls.  Good luck even finding one after 1:00 AM, let alone one that isn’t about to be dragged home by her friends to vomit

Well (5-6)  If you’re looking to get fucked (up), they’ll do.  If you’re drinking out of the well, it’s probably late or you’re really hard up.  You probably looked right past them when you first walked into the bar, and your opening line had something to do with bumming a cigarette at Last Call.  Cheap and easy has its penalties, and you will probably feel awful in the morning.

Gorgon (<5)  Absolutely unfuckable under any circumstance.  Not even to further the species.  When you look on them with sober eyes, you will probably turn to stone.

Humans do not want equality.  We strive at every turn to create order and structure.  Specialization.  Division of labor.  A vast network of people taking orders from someone higher up the food chain, separated by invisible layers of social abstraction.

The seduction community attempts to manipulate this system by analyzing the correlation between certain behaviors and a desired effect.  The method is crude, but the attempt to examine causal relationships in human behavior is valid.

Understanding the rules of any system increases the odds of working that system in your favor.  In essence, gaming the game.

Unfortunately, the average Player doesn’t stand a chance if their Game fails at the concept level.  Here are a few common fuck-ups Pick Up Artists make in their basic understanding of Game.

1) The Shape of Things

Human understanding is inextricably bound to our perception of reality.  The things we create necessarily reflect the traits of their creators because we create them for our own advantage.

Humans don’t form perfect hierarchies.  The human brain does not processes information in a straight line.  There are gaps in our logic that cannot be mapped out in hard math.

The tired model of rigid human hierarchy is not adequate.  Journalists and IT geeks are witnessing this first hand.  This is why they are starting to restructure their understanding of information systems as heterarchies.

Think of heterarchy more as a network than a rigid pyramid.  If our brains process information in a layered network that possesses the traits of both hierarchy and heterarchy, then our social networks will reflect this.

2) Alpha

The basic premise of Game is that mimicking certain behaviors can make a person appear more “Alpha”, thus increasing their desirability.  However, understanding Alpha personalities as being at the top of the social structure, or even as being necessarily male is wrongheaded.

Players who understand human society as a hierarchical tribe are making these mistakes.

Alpha personalities are nexus points in a network of information.  Their value does not come from behaving a certain way.  It comes from how well they are connected into the network.

Real Alphas are not defined by their job or their paycheck.  Cars and clothes are superficial, and a person who defines themselves by these things has no deeper value to the people around them.

Alphas attract other people because they display an understanding of the world around them, and demonstrate their ability to influence it.  The movers and shakers of this world are not simply people of means, they use their ability to influence others to achieve what the Greeks called eudaimonia, a condition of human thriving.

3) Motivation

If your interest in Game is limited to getting laid, then your goals are short term.  You would be better off spending your time at the gym to get the results you are after.

However, if your interest is in being Alpha then you have to consider what it is that you really want from people, and examine the potential consequences of your actions.  Short-term flings and one night stands seem like a great idea to the try hard dickwad who hasn’t wet his prick in two months.  A few months of juggling girls will make a man reconsider his methods.

Once he develops a reputation in his social circle as a pump-and-dump jerkoff or he gives a girl a flaming case of Herpes, he will become so poisonous to his own Game that he’ll be stuck banging coke heads and IV drug users who don’t care about the sore on his cock, or are too fucked up to notice.

Manipulating people and using them for selfish gain might work in the short term, but the long term side effects of being a total asshole are worse than cancer.

Don’t believe me?  Ask Tucker Max how his movie did.

Tucker tapped into something when he demonstrated that there was something about acting like an asshole that got him laid.  He managed, in spite of himself, to become famous and planted his feet on the springboard to success.  Then he dove into an empty pool.  Acting like an arrogant prick only looks like confidence.  This is enough if you are trying to mind-fuck a drunk co-ed.  If you really want to win people over, then Dale Carnegie has forgotten more about the subject than Tucker Max ever knew.  Even if he’s read that book, he isn’t putting it to use.

People look to Alpha personalities for leadership and guidance.  Alphas have presence.  They exude confidence and enthusiasm.  Alphas push forward when others want to quit, and they get back up when they fail.  However, any bombastic asshole can fake this routine.  What separates an Alpha from an asshole is networking.

There is a difference between being a leader and being a dictator.  Leaders include.  They enhance other people’s self-worth.  They praise them, and fill them with confidence.  Leaders set an example worth following.  Leaders admit when they are wrong, and they genuinely listen to people.  Leaders invest in other people, and their reward is the rising tide of those they motivate.

Assholes are full of shit.

As a lurker in the Pick-Up Artist/Game community, I have come to the conclusion that Game, for most guys, is a gimmick.  Guys work their tired angles like they wear an article of clothing:

- They rock the striped button down, or the Ed Hardy schwag, trying to look like a million bucks.

- Of course, they’re still wearing sneakers.  It doesn’t matter how new or nice, they’re fucking sneakers.

- So they upgrade to some designer knock-off club shoe.  It’s the only pair they own, and they’re still wearing jeans.

- So they buy slacks, and a watch, and before you know it they’re a new man!

Unfortunately, underneath the Emperor’s new clothes, they’re the same stupid douchebag decked out in Club Costume.  No matter how nice the wrapper, if it feels unnatural it will look unnatural.

Gimmick Game works the same way.

If you set out to be the Funny Guy, or the Cool Guy or the Tough Guy, the process doesn’t end with the right set of clothes and a couple of parlor tricks. Pretending is not being.

Six weeks of BJJ and an Affliction t-shirt don’t make you a tough guy.  When you walk into a dive bar and order a couple of Jaeguh Bommz, everyone in the place knows you’re a nitwit.

Likewise, working routines and gimmicks will fall flat when they don’t represent You, the guy underneath.

What’s more, Game itself is a gimmick.

Most one-night stands don’t deserve to be called “conquests”, and having a few of them does not make you a man.  Eventually, most guys will settle into a relationship.  Do you want to be in a relationship with a woman who liked you for being something you’re not?

Wait until she finds out that the watch is a fake and the ‘Slade belongs to your brother.

If you manage to pull off the gimmick past Date Three, be prepared for the consequences of a) fucking her and running or b) her discovering that you’re completely full of shit.

If you want to be the Cool Guy with lots of toys and money, forget about the half-gram of stepped on blow and the designer knock-offs.  Work hard, get a real job, bust your ass.  Being the Cool Guy isn’t about getting laid, that’s just a perk.

Work 80 hour weeks, then decide if the perks are worth the real price of entry.

If you want to be the Tough Guy, try a 5 AM wake-up for a 6 AM workout with a hangover from clubbing.  Try bleeding into the carpet of a sheriff’s sub-station, giving a statement with a BAC of 0.18.

Try something else.

Gimmick Game is all about putting on an unnatural front to hide your shabby self.  Rather than devote effort to pretending to be someone worth fucking, why not devote that effort to BEING someone worth fucking.

I might have dirt under my nails and a chip on my shoulder, but I don’t turn into a pumpkin at midnight.  I don’t have to buy over-priced drinks with no booze in them.  I don’t have to memorize lines or routines.

I can say No to a woman because I don’t care if it turns her off.

And if it does, I can go home and jerk off because I don’t give a fuck if anyone thinks I’m a master Player.

I walked into the bar alone.  Cinqo de Mayo fell on a week night, and no one was returning my calls.  Three feet through the door I ran into a kid I knew from around the neighborhood.

He turned small talk into a boring lecture about college.  Art school fag.  He moaned about being a walking cliche while I struggled to remember his name.  I eyeballed the bar nervously, more interested in a drink than anything he had to say.

“So, uh . . . where are all the hot, straight chicks?”

As if I hadn’t just insulted him, he pointed and walked across the bar.  He sidled up to a little co-ed – cute, dirty blonde – and wrapped his arms around her.  She sat at a table with some soggy looking poof.  Art Boi leaned in and whispered something to the Blonde, and pointed at me.

Her eyes lit up.  She waved me over.

I walked to her table and she pushed the chair out next to her with her foot.  As first impressions go, this was more auspicious than most.

“Alcohol would be good,” I said.  My version of an introduction.

Art Boi made proper introductions around the table.  The fat poof looked like he spent most nights crying and jerking off to Bauhaus.  We were one chair shy.  Art Boi stood.

“What’re we drinking?” I asked.

“Ooh, Jager?” she said.

“Be a sweetheart?” I pulled out a twenty, holding it across the table to the fat poof.

He looked hurt.  The blonde looked over at him.

“Oh, come on,” she cooed.

“Fine . . . ” he said, pushing himself away from the table.

“You drinking?” I said, looking up at Art Boi.

“No . . . ” he showed me the large X drawn on either hand in black marker.  He took fat boy’s seat.

“Oh, right.  Straight edge.”

I made small talk with the blonde.  Where do you go to school?  What’s your major?  What color panties are you wearing?

It was a thong, actually.  Pink.  She stood to show me the strap.  I was only being a smart-ass, if deliberately rude.  I couldn’t believe that worked.  Fat Boy returned with our shots.  Blondie slid into my lap so Fat Boy could sit.  She wiggled and snuggled up to me.

What God had I pleased?

“So, what did homeboy whisper in your ear?” I murmured.

“You’re hot . . . ” she stammered.

She giggled and reached down between my legs, feeling her way up my thigh.  She shifted her weight indelicately and palmed my crotch, rubbing me through my jeans.

Dear Penthouse Forum . . .

Then she turned to kiss me.  If kissing is a skill, she didn’t have it.  Her spit ran down my chin.  I could taste the alcohol on her breath.  I was only on my second drink.  My motivation faltered.

I had said less than a full paragraph worth of words to this girl.  It was actually happening – her squeezing reminded me – but I could hardly believe that this girl had just fallen into my lap.  I suspected I was committing a crime.

I made her show me her I.D.  She was 20 – or 21 – depending on which card I looked at.

Game on.

I stood her up and marched us to the bar.  The bartender was surprised to see me.  I hadn’t been around in months.  The next pair of shots were on the house, and I bought another double for myself.  I had catching up to do.

We hopped to the next bar.  Art Boi scored us a free round at the next bar, before scuttling off to parts unknown.  A few more drinks and a few more bars and Blondie was hanging on my arm for support.

I suggested calling it a night.

She suggested that we go back to her friend’s house.  I insisted on a cab until she told me where we were going.  I was parked two blocks away.  The walk to my car was longer than the drive to her friend’s apartment.

Stupidly, I marched us to my car.

Not a block later she was whining in my ear.  It’s cold!  Where’s your car?  Let’s call a cab to your car!

I dragged her the distance.  By the time I unlocked my doors, I hated her with every fiber of my being.  She fell into my passenger seat, and I rolled out of my space with surgical delicacy.  It was only a few more blocks to her friend’s apartment.  All back streets.  I multi-tasked between clutching, shifting, and removing her hand from my groin.

All of this while glancing frantically in my mirrors for cops.

We crash landed on a couch in the living room of a dank frat pad.  I was given a brief introduction to the leaseholder, who casually shrugged me the consent to fuck on his furniture.   He hit the lights on his way out.

I had barely sunk my teeth into Blondie’s shoulder, and a hand up her shirt, when Fat Boy reappeared.

“There aren’t any spare bedrooms . . . “

I groaned loudly, my noise barely muffled by her skin.

“What happened to the room you slept in last night?” she howled.

“Someone else is passed out in there . . . ” he muttered.

He said nothing else.  He was hammered, and he curled up on the adjacent couch.  My hand froze.  With all momentum lost, I unhanded her breast.  In the back of my mind, I was grateful not to be balancing on one foot, or counting to thirty.

Thousand one, thousand two, thousand three . . .

“I’m sorry,” she said.

I woke before she did.  We were spooning.  Sunlight filtered through the bedsheets that passed as curtains.  The room smelled like piss and puke.

My clothes were soaked with sweat.  Everything was damp, even the couch.  My arms were wrapped around her.  The crotch of her jeans was wet.

In a panic, I reached between us and checked my groin.  Still dry.

Fat Boy was stirring.  Before long, Captain Frat and a roommate stumbled  into the living room.  I was desperate to be anywhere else.  She didn’t even say good morning.

After the most awkward conversation of my life, I climbed over her and staggered out of the apartment.  Now that I was moving, the hangover began to throb.

Out in the cool morning air, I checked to see how much I had been peed on.  I scraped two bumpers dislodging myself from my parking space.  I didn’t remember her name.

. . . And begging is contemptible.  I stand by that.

Asking is not simply interrogative.  Asking is a transfer of power.  There is always the possibility that the other party might not grant their approval.  If that happens, you lose face.

Humans are inherently social creatures.  Putting yourself out for the approval of others is par for the course.  While it would be unreasonable to expect people to eliminate this behavior entirely, careful management can go a long way.

If asking really is begging, what is a man to do?  How does he approach a woman?  How does he ask her out?  How does he get her consent?

The short answer is:  he doesn’t.

I was reminded of this fundamental part of Bastard Game recently in a post about condoms.  Ferdinand points out the dangers of asking for permission when it isn’t called for.  Specifically, he cites the potential post-coital awkwardness of asking a woman her preference when disposing of the rubber(s).

Why anyone would ask is beyond me.  Get up, flush the dick bag.  No explanation necessary.  If she asks, tell her you don’t want her stealing your sperm.  If she doesn’t like it, tough.

The problem with asking is as much a trick of language as it is a trick of psychology.  Language is the basis of thought, and a careful choice of words can get you far.

Consider the Hard Sell:

You are developing rapport with a woman.  She is touching her hair, touching your arm, giving you favorable indicators of interest.  However, you are playing it cool and aloof.

You want to give her your number and leave it at that, but she is brash and self-assured and playing you back.  She wants to be chased.  At the same time, asking her out will mean asking for her permission.  No matter what you say, this is what she’ll hear:

Please, Mrs. Lady, can I have a date with you?

So what do you do?

You play her signals.  A little push-pull* develops.  Getting her out to expand rapport and escalate does not require written consent.  It only requires her to show up.

Behold the power of suggestion:

“I’m doing xxxx on Thursday.  You should join me.  8:00.  Promptish.”

This is not a question, it’s a sales pitch.  You’re not asking for her to approve it, you’re offering a product that she is actively shopping for.  If you’re reading her signals right, she’s already giving you permission for this escalation.

The Hard Sell is a bold move, even arrogant.  A lot rides on your delivery.  The difference between setting a date and being a dickhead lies in your tone and body language.  Be playful, but with enough confidence to show that you’re serious.

She should understand that these are your plans. If she doesn’t want to be a part of them, then she is replaceable.  For her, you are a perishable commodity.  It is essential to lay the proper groundwork.

Working a Push-Pull* is an excellent way to set up the Hard Sell.  Anyone who has ever been arrested is familiar with the Push-Pull; this is the basis of the Reid Method, the gold standard of interrogation tactics.

Good Cop, Bad Cop.

Push-Pull is all about emotional turmoil.  Taking a woman off-balance lowers her defenses.  This is a cornerstone of Bastard Game.

During attraction building, be a bit aloof.  Tempo your Game to allow for moments of distraction on your part.  Your apparent interest in her must wax and wane.

Glance off.  Abruptly change topics.  Shift your posture between indicating interest and pulling away from her.  For every solid indicator of interest she gives you, reward her with disinterest.  When she appears uncomfortable, reel her back in.

When she begins to escalate physically, giving you multiple touch indicators, it’s time to close.  When you do, it is absolutely crucial that you do not say “could”.

Could is a possibility.  It invites objection.

Should is an obligation.  She is touching you.  She is batting her eyelashes.  These are not accidents.  She is interested.  Your job is to point out that her body is writing checks (interest) and it is time to cash them.

As with any Sales Pitch, you may have to deal with objections.

I don’t know.

I have plans.

I have a boyfriend.

Some of her objections may be true.  However, she may also be testing you.  Objections are attempts by the woman to Logic you away.  She isn’t necessarily telling you facts, she is rationalizing.

Objections can be overcome.

1.  Don’t Debate:  This is an emotional decision.  Do not argue with her.  Do not attempt to win her over with logic.  Never deflect her questions.

By deflecting her objections, you are telling her that she doesn’t have the right to feel something.  You might as well tell her that her insides are broken.  If you like jerking off, argue with her.

2. All Ears:  Don’t oversell your confidence by telling her what she thinks, or how she feels.  Listen to what she tells you before countering her play.  Actually listening will make you seem less likely to fuck-n-flee, and help her to feel more comfortable with you.

3. Reframe:  Feed her own objection back to her.  Rephrase it in the form of a question, make her own it.  If her concern is legitimate, this will come through in her response.

“Yes, I have a boyfriend,” or “Hey, Smasher, c’mere . . . ” is usually a good sign that she was telling the truth.

Don’t dead-pan her, she will take this as your acceptance of defeat.  Look shocked.  A boyfriend? Your surprise will remind her that she was, in fact, flirting with you.  She should have told you sooner, rather than putting out signals.

4. Counter and Close:  Truth is relative.  Manipulate the context of her objection.

“What made you think it was a romantic invitation?”

“That’s too bad, my girlfriend would have loved to meet you.”

Probe her objection carefully.  Ask how long they’ve been dating, ask about her plans.  Make suggestions to counter her objections.  Tell her to change her plans.

If her objections are a smokescreen, then she’ll probably take the bait.  She may jump objections.

Alright, I really don’t have a boyfriend.  But I made plans with my friend and I don’t want to cancel on her, etc . . .

Jump from objection to objection is a sign that her defenses are crumbling.  Ask her if the friend is attractive.  If so, demand she bring her friend.

If she doesn’t take the bait and walks, then she was only milking you for attention.  Attention whores are cheap, and you get what you pay for.

For a few dollars more . . .

It recently occurred to me that there is a disparity between how men and women define Hooking Up.  The female definition seems to involve making out and heavy petting.  Everything else is Banging.

There was no mention of oral sex.  Gray area.  Everyone avoided the subject.

For me, the definitions are opposite.  Hooking up involves conjoined genitals.  Everything else is just fucking around . . .

The degree of sexual activity has changed.  The antiquated four-base system of sexual activity must be retired.  It does not adequately describe the hierarchy of sexual activity.

The game has changed.  The ante has been upped.  No one cares if you’ve touched a girl’s tit anymore.  Making out?  That’s not even out of the locker room . . .

The following is the updated Four-Base system.

1st Base:  Manual

Handjobs/Tit-fucking.  Outer course.  Who counts kissing, anyway?  You’re not rounding the bases until you get cum on something.

2nd Base:  Oral

Teens now think nothing of giving oral.  Some people would argue that oral is more intimate than intercourse, but you can’t get pregnant shooting down someone’s throat.

Analingus counts as sliding into second.

3rd Base:  Sex

That’s right, fucking is only third base.  Oral is only an appetizer.  Sex is the the main course.  However, it is still possible to go farther.

Anal intercourse, like anal-oral, counts as sliding into base.  In either case you come up dirty.

Home Run . . .

The threesome is the full home run.  It’s like sex, only more of it.  Make sure to touch every base on your way around . . .

If you hook up some group sex and get a few friends laid in the deal, it’s a bona fide Grand Slam.

(First Published at The Spearhead)

Denise Romano v. The Seduction Community

Denise Romano is no friend of pick-up artists.  Ms. Romano has accused pick-up artists of being abusive to women.  She claims that Game represents a kind of Fraud, invalidating consent for women who have sex with pick-up artists.

Ms. Romano believes that Game, and pick-up artists, are morally culpable for coercing women into having sex.  She believes that Game is a kind of brainwashing, that it manipulates the will, therefore constituting sexual assault.

Denise Romano is just bitter . . .

Ms. Romano argues ad nauseum that Game is morally wrong.  She attacks the specific terms that pick-up artists use, claiming that they objectify women.  She thinks that some pick-up artists are rude, awful jackasses who use women for sex without consideration for that woman’s feelings.

On some accounts, she is right.

Ms. Romano makes a Kantian argument.  Intentionally or not, she evokes the Categorical Imperative.

In the First Formulation of the Categorical Imperative, Kant states:

“Act only according to that maxim whereby you can at the same time will that it should become a universal law.”

The first formulation is based on the “golden rule”, Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.  A universalizable maxim is a moral duty.  A maxim must be logically consistent.  It is not logical to will that you can steal from others without allowing that they can steal from you.

So don’t convince attractive people to have sex with you unless you want them to do the same.

The Second Formulation is closer to Ms. Romano’s logic:

“Act in such a way that you treat humanity, whether in your own person or in the person of any other, always at the same time as an end and never merely as a means to an end.”

This second formulation more specifically addresses Ms. Romano’s objection to Game and the Seduction Community.  Her real objection is that pick-up artists use women for sex without regard for their inherent moral value as persons (i.e. moral agents; people are capable of making moral choices, and therefore have moral worth).

If I were a Kantian, I would care.

The premise that seduction is inherently abusive assumes that people have a moral duty to one another.  Where does this moral duty come from?  Is there a divine law that we mustn’t break?  Does the power of Christ compel us?

No it doesn’t.

There is no such thing as moral obligation.  Morality is a social construct, an abstraction grown out of the human aversion to pain and death.  Right and wrong amount to personal injury and property damage.

How can this be?  If this were the case – if the world were, in fact, amoral – then life would be horrible!  We would all live in constant fear of pain and death.  The truth is, we do.  The world is a dangerous place.  It does not care about your pain.

Only you do.

Each of us recognizes the fact that such an existence – one of constant fear and danger – is miserable.  Each of us accepts, if only tacitly, a kind of great truce with our fellow man.  Thomas Hobbes calls it the Second Law of Nature:

” . . . that a man be willing, when others are so too, as far forth as for peace and defence of himself he shall think it necessary, to lay down this right to all things; and be contented with so much liberty against other men as he would allow other men against himself.” – The Leviathan; Chapter XIV

There it is again, the Golden Rule.  The difference here is that Hobbes isn’t concerned with universalizable maxims.  Hobbes suggests that we shouldn’t run around bonking each other over the head and stealing one another’s shit because a world like that would be miserable.

That does not mean we are obligated in any way to treat other persons with regard for their moral agency.  It means we must treat them with regard for their ability to kill us and take our shit.

See the difference?

Society is not based on altruistic principles, but on self-interest.  Each of us are responsible for our own well-being.  We are not obliged to worry about the wants or needs of others, except when we choose to.

As far as Game is concerned, Consent is the extent of the Law.

Here is where Ms. Romano’s argument thickens.  She holds that Game is a kind of Fraud, therefore legally invalidating any Consent given.

Ms. Romano’s premise relies upon the fact that Game is a form of deception.  Pick-up artists will often use a variety of deceitful practices in order to seduce a woman.  They adopt persona cultivated to entice women, they use canned material that is often little more than phony stories, they may lie about their names or facts about their lives.

Pick-up artists lie their asses off.

The problem is that lying and Fraud are not the same thing.  People lie all the time, and are guilty of nothing more than bad taste.  Pick-up artists lie and are guilty of nothing more than being douche bags.

Women wear flattering clothing to hide their flaws.  They use make-up to conceal blemishes and padded bras to accentuate their breasts.  They tell men all kinds of things to attract them, and sometimes they lie.

Does any of this constitute Fraud?  No.

Fraud: A false representation of a matter of fact—whether by words or by conduct, by false or misleading allegations, or by concealment of what should have been disclosed—that deceives and is intended to deceive another so that the individual will act upon it to her or his legal injury.

Fraud must be proved by showing that the defendant’s actions involved five separate elements: (1) a false statement of a material fact, (2) knowledge on the part of the defendant that the statement is untrue, (3) intent on the part of the defendant to deceive the alleged victim, (4) justifiable reliance by the alleged victim on the statement, and (5) injury to the alleged victim as a result.

Elements 1-4 are clear; they outline the constituent parts of a lie.  Element 5 is where things get tricky.  In order for a lie to constitute Fraud, it must cause injury.  Specifically, the victim must be deprived of rights or property.  Furthermore, any lies must be false “statements of fact”.

Opinions and qualitative statements don’t count.

When a woman has sex with a pick-up artist, she is not buying a sales pitch or exchanging goods or services.  She is engaging in consensual sex.  Sex is straight-forward, what you see is what you get.  There is no false advertising once the clothes come off.

Buyers beware.

One sticking point here concerns STDs; a person who knowingly endangers another without making their partner aware of their condition beforehand obviates that person’s ability to make an informed decision.

. . . And if you’re having unprotected sex or being incautious with your body, shame on you.

In most cases, when someone goes home with a person they have just met, they do so at their own peril.  If bad sex or a smirch on your reputation is the worst that happens, count your blessings.  Consider the ramifications of your actions before you act, there is no RESET button.

Denise Romano’s argument is the argument of a bitter woman looking to obviate her own responsibility for having slept with someone she regrets.  I am not stating that this is actually the case.  I don’t care.

Game is just nerdy guys trying to get laid.  It isn’t magic.  It isn’t hypnosis.  It certainly isn’t sexual assault.  It’s just a game.

If women want to stand on equal footing with men then they have to accept the fact that, when they wake up next to a Gorgon, maybe they should have said No to that last shot of Jagermeister.

As for Denise Romano, maybe she should stop drinking the Kool-Aid.

A Bastard Game Supplemental:

I realized today that I left something out of my Bastard Game articles (One/Two).  The following falls under the guidelines outlined in Part Two, to be used as as a discretionary Tactic.

On Lying:

Lying exists in a touchy moral gray area.  Depending on the circumstance and severity, there are arguments to be made for the Pros and Cons of lying.  No moral ambiguity exists when it comes to Game because it is a Con.

Bastard Game is a little different in this respect – it isn’t intended to be a put-on at all.  You don’t plug in a series of behaviors and hope for a result.  Instead, you cultivate a series of behaviors for the sake of aesthetics.  In this case, the aesthetic is the “swaggering alpha male” who will just as soon turn women away as unzip his fly for them.

Why would he want to do this?  Because he can.

Sometimes breaking hearts is more fun than winning them.

The philosopher Immanuel Kant was a firm opponent of lies.  He believed that for an action to be morally credible, it had to be universalizable; that is, it must follow the Categorical Imperative.

Put in plain English, the Categorical Imperative is a moral obligation to behave in a manner that is logically consistent.  Game has nothing to do with behaving in a logical manner.  Game is about manipulating people, and most people (especially women) don’t run on logic.

People are emotional creatures.  If you can manipulate their emotions you can manipulate their sex drive.  Say the right things – and avoid saying the wrong things – and you have a much better chance of getting your dick wet.

Lie Your Ass Off:

Lying can be a crucial component in Bastard Game (BG).  In the early phases of BG, when you are gaining her interest and demonstrating yours (A1-A2), the last thing you want to do is give her any real information about yourself.

If you’re running BG you aren’t looking for a relationship, you’re looking for a couch to pass out on because you spent your money on whiskey.  Spraying her with semen is a bonus, not a requisite.

Lying is important for several reasons:

1) Women are crazy.  You’re trying to knock over some strange ass.  No matter what you think you can read on the first night, you’re probably wrong.  Women are adept at being complicated.  They’re going to conceal things from you.  Women can hide things through 30 years of marriage, don’t feel pressured to figure them out in twenty minutes.

Why is this important?  If she’s lying (and she IS lying) then it makes no difference if you’re lying.  Furthermore, you don’t want to tell some lying bitch intimate details like your name.  You don’t want to find out she’s dating a cop after she blows you in your car and takes down your plate number.

2) Lying is the Neg that keeps on giving.  A woman might not know she is being negged when you tell her a lie that is easy to believe (i.e. a fake name).  However, if you decide to fill her in on the lie later, letting her behind the curtain to see “the real you” (preferably another lie), then you’ll have negged her by showing her that she wasn’t important enough for you to tell her the truth in the first place.

3) Lying keeps them guessing.  Feeding a woman a never ending line of dubious information keeps her insecure.  Insecure women feel the need to justify themselves and seek approval from you, rather than the other way around.

By dubious information, I mean truthful seeming lies (My name is [a lie]) mixed with complete fucking non-sense.  Explain, with a straight face, that you repair turbo encabulators.  Bullshit is better than any canned routine.  Any nonsense you make up on the spot will come off more natural than any routine you’ve a) not practiced enough or b) practiced too much.

]]> http://www.fkinonline.com/we-spread-thought-cancer/lie-your-ass-off/feed/ 0 http://www.fkinonline.com/we-spread-thought-cancer/bastard-game-part-ii/ http://www.fkinonline.com/we-spread-thought-cancer/bastard-game-part-ii/#comments Wed, 09 Dec 2009 03:10:00 +0000 Max http://www.fkinonline.com/?p=2525 Game is a social skill-set for the effective knocking over of ass.  However, no skill-set is perfect.  Everyone has different aptitudes, and everyone’s Game needs tweaking to find what works for them.

Game is about being an Alpha-male.  By demonstrating your higher position in the social hierarchy, you become more attractive to the opposite sex.

The Rules of Bastard Game were designed to help cultivate a specific posture.

“Carefree, mocking, violent.  Thus wisdom wants us.

For she is a woman, she always loves a man of war.”

- Nietzsche; Genealogy of Morals

Alphas rise to the top of their social hierarchy because they embody manliness.  They become leaders in their group, sometimes in spite of themselves, because they demonstrate the most Alpha traits.  There is one Alpha trait that supersedes the rest:  Strength.

All Game relies on the presentation of Alpha male qualities.  Bastard Game forgoes some of the basic tactics of other styles to focus on one thing:

Rule 1: Be Indifferent

No matter what happens, don’t give a fuck.  Don’t care.  Do not put yourself out for anyone.  Don’t lift one finger, don’t bat one eyelash. This isn’t a false posture.  Indifference is the luxury of the Alpha male.  He is calm and composed because, whatever happens, he can handle it.

Bastard Game: Tactics

Opening:

1. Never Approach.  Game is like magic, it falls apart at the seams if the audience knows the trick.  The more a woman has been approached, the more savvy she will be to your approach, no matter how subtle.

In order to close the distance, consider:

The Drive-By:  Open on the move.  You are a walking, negging machine.  If you’re with a wingman, even better.  You’ll already be in conversation and you can casually toss a comment over your shoulder.  Is it an approach?  . . . eh.  Not if you couldn’t care less and keep on walking.

The Tactical Advantage:  Being parked in an approachable position is a good thing.  Sitting at the bar seems ideal – you’re automatically talking over your shoulder, for one – but there are too many distractions (i.e. the bartender).  Find the high-ground, where people must approach or pass you on your terms.

2. Subliminal Social Proof. Remember Rule 3 – if you’re in a familiar place, then you’ll be shaking hands with everyone from the bouncer to the bartender.  Every person you talk to publicly builds your Social Proof.  The more others notice, the less strange it will seem if you randomly drop a comment in their lap.

If you’re in a strange place, have a wing come in a few minutes late.  Give yourself enough time to get the layout.  Grab some tactical advantage, or move near a set, and let your wing run into you.  He is so glad to see you that he’ll even buy you a round.

If you’re solo, make new friends.  Men are more important than women.  If you’re truly leader of the pack, nothing will show it better than the way other men act around you.  Once they start telling you stories to impress you, start making that face that attractive women make when a man is boring them.

You are an Alpha.  People are glad to know you, and they want to make you happy.  Seeking a female’s attention overtly is like asking for approval.  Asking is begging.  Don’t ask them to be interested in you, make them feel out of place if they are not.

3. Turnabout.  This is always fair play.  Females always arrive in groups, they dress the part, their value is obvious.  That is, their valuables are obvious.  All of this is bait – Come impress me, Mr. Alpha.  Win my approval.

Asking is begging, and begging is contemptible.  Even from a female.

They display all of these approval-seeking behaviors.  Deny them that approval.  Only open a set enough to start a conversation.  Fuck your routines.  Don’t run off at the mouth with stupid stories.

Opening a set is nothing more than an invitation for them to entertain you.  You are the Alpha male.  You know your worth.  Now let them prove theirs to you.  Beauty alone isn’t enough – you’ve seen it before – you aren’t swayed by it.  They have to demonstrate real value. Let them buy you drinks, or else just offer to blow you in the bathroom.

Working a Set:

1. Neg, Neg, Neg.  Remember, this isn’t about their approval, it’s about yours.  Make them want it, then dole it out in small doses.

2.  Smile.  Let them see you smile . . . at other people.  Smile when you talk to your wing before you open.  Smile when you talk to the Staff.  Smile for females, not at them.  They’ll have to earn it.

Wait for them to give you Indicators of Interest.  After a few, feed a smile.  Work your own Indicators sparingly, like Pavlovian conditioning.  If you have her on the hook, she’ll escalate for you.  Once she does, follow suit.

3. Bounce.  As soon as you have her/them/it on the hook, get the fuck out of there.  Once escalation starts, it’s only a matter of time before the location gets stale and your Game stalls.

Express displeasure at your surroundings.  Demand to change them.

Either regard the new venue as more interesting, and use the girls you hooked for Social Proof as you work the new place . . .

OR

Be skeptical of the new venue’s ability to please you.  Turn your attention back to the girls, inviting them to please you.

Closing:

1.  Fuck Numbers.  If anyone should be giving out their phone number, it’s you.  If she’s really interested, she’ll call.

2. Plan B.  In case your swaggering Alpha demeanor intimidates her, strike up a tentative plan to do something, somewhere, sometime soon.  It gives her an excuse to call you.

3.  Escalate.  If you’re not escalating her skirt by now, lose interest.

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