Wimminz – celebrating skank ho's everywhere

December 14, 2012

I have been challenged…


… by a friend, to explain exactly what is going on with a current FWB

(I should explain, in the spirit of full disclosure, there is a reason for his question, this FWB has come a lot closer to my affections than the usual pump and dump material, for the purpose of this post we will call her “Julie”)

uuuh, it’s a wimminz, innit…” was my reply.

He laughed and said you don’t get off that easy, I want you to be charitable and play devils advocate and argue in her favour.

You mean blue pill?” I say

Nope, I mean red pill, but on an individual level, like you’re a cunt because the wimminz have taught you that is what they want and how to survive them, so do the same for her, on an individual level, who taught her to be what she is?” he says

As always happens, we soon drifted off topic, but I woke up this morning and found myself still thinking about it.

The fact is, it was a good question, and it is a good question because it is a hard question, and it is a hard question because to answer it honestly, I will be forced to examine some of my own armour and learned reactions to the wimminz….

Imagine if you will a man living alone out in he wilderness, and imagine a wild dog floating around the man’s camp, sniffing for scraps, there are a few possible scanarios;

Group 1

  1. Man shoots dog
  2. Man chases dog away
  3. Man stays in camp, dog stays outside camp 100 yards away
  4. Man entices dog into camp.
  5. Dog decides to walk into camp.
  6. Dog decides to attack man

From options 4 and 5 above some further options pop up;

Group 2

  1. Man attempts to domesticate dog and succeeds
  2. Man attempts to domesticate dog and fails
  3. Dog attempts to attach to man and succeeds
  4. Dog attempts to attach to man and fails

Group 1 option 1 is Jonathan Vass, as discussed yesterday, Group 1 option 6 is of course the FRA

Group 1 options 2 & 3 is the MGTOW theme…. I’m sure you can work out the rest.

Group 1 options 4 & 5 are the interesting ones though, because they involve contact between man and dog, and either option 4 or 5 can lead to any of the options in Group 2, and I’m sure you don’t need me to point out which is an analogy to what when it comes to men and wimminz…

But, if I am going to be truly honest with myself, which is where my friends question comes in, Group 2 option 3 is what we all seek, the dog bonding to us, always assuming it is a dog we like the look of in the first place… the love of a dog for his master.

The unquestioning love of a dog for his master.

To be fair, this is the kind of love men want to give wimminz, until they get the shit kicked out of them for their troubles, so we end up either cowed and tails between our legs niggerz or fuck it growl at everything and bite first chew later post wimminz men….

Which is my friends question, but it was sneaky, because it did not allow me to generalise all wimminz, but asked me instead to look closely at one individual dog, and judge that dog on its individual merits.

It’s doubly sneaky because it invokes the nostalgia and yearning for Group 2, Option 3, that thing we all seek, the companionship and love of a good dog.

It’s trebly sneaky because it makes me choose between actually coming up with a considered answer to his question, or simply chucking out a stock answer, AWALT, end of discussion.

It’s quadruply sneaky because it is not a challenge to AWALT, this individual wimminz is still AWALT, the question is, how did she come to be that way, and is it by choice, or was she as much a made thing as I am?

It makes me examine my own thought processes.

  • Notably, it is a man, and not a wimminz or a niggerz that poses such a question.
  • I realise that much of my though processes with wimminz involves a negative check-list or weighted score, quantity and quality of tramp stamp skank ho tats, check, she’s a skank ho.
  • I realise that much of the “slack” I give the more favoured long term FWB is simply no more than the absence of certain of these check-list items, wow, this bitch only has 84 of the 100 possible flaws, and only 6 of the 10 most serious red flags…
  • I realise that somewhere in my sub-concious, with this particular FWB, as well as a reasonably low score on the negative check-list, there are actually some things about her that I like and approve of…

So group 1 option 3 dog attempts to domesticate man, man looks at dog and grins, it’s a mangy cur of a mongrel bitch with plenty of bad habits and fleas, but… it makes the man grin.

The man’s friend sees this, and asks the man, why does this individual dog make you grin, it shares more in common with the other curs roaming around your camp than it has to set it apart from them… and what caused this individual dog to be the way it is.

It is a bloody good question.

It is a bloody good question because I cannot answer it without also answering the same question about myself, and not in a superficial way that I have, because I got accused of wanting to fuck my own kids up the ass by my psycho skank ho ex who also made an FRA against me for good measure… but in detail, what sort of man ignored the red flags with the psycho skank ho ex, and why, and how was HE made, and so on back in time….

All the way back to the pre-pubescent me who just knew various things, the sun rises in the east, water is wet, and one day you will grow up and fall in love and get married and have a family of your own and boys who will call you daddy.

I have been making a serious, possibly fatal in the longer term, mistake.

Take a 5 gallon pail of water and tip it out at the top of a slope, watch how it runs downhill, how obstacles and other things change the flow, you can never get the same effect twice, if you think so you ain’t looking close enough, that flow is life, my psycho skank ho ex is a large rock downhill of where I was tipped out into this world, and my serious and possibly fatal flaw was looking at where I am now, the pattern I have made so far, and assuming that that is pretty much it, this form has basically been determined.

I am the pinnacle of my evolution.

The flaw is that change only stops with death, so I must continue to flow downhill into the future and find new patterns and channels and obstacles, or I can die.

I did not HAVE to allow my psycho skank ho ex to do what she did, at the first touch of that obstacle in my life I could have rebounded and found another path, one that cut around her instead of one that washed over her.

I face the same choices in the future.

“Julie” the mongrel cur faces these same choices in the future, and the future starts now.

The man in the camp grins at “Julie” the mongrel cur, because she chose to do what 99% of the other mongrel curs who walked into camp did, but with variations.

The man’s friend asked the question, and the man is forced to conclude that some of those minor variations are that in this mongrel’s history are that it chose to rebound and find another path when it met certain obstacles…. unlike the man, who just assumed he was smart enough and tough enough to overcome… the cur yelped and ran away… who was smarter?

==================================================

In 1988 I knew an alcoholic, nobody had any time for him, but he had respect for my father so I would talk to him and buy him the occasional beer.

He was an alky because he fucked up, married into a banking family, and blew it by drinking too much and becoming an asshole.

He said one thing to me that I have never forgotten, and the older I get, the smarter it seems.

When I was 20, I knew everything and my dad knew fuck all,
when I was 30, I knew a fair bit, and my dad wasn’t as stupid as I thought,
when I was 40, my dad knew a damn sight more than I thought he did.

===================================================

“Julie” the mongrel who has wandered into my camp?

Well, I’m sitting here laughing to myself, remembering my dad pissing himself at a scene in a Pink Panther film.

Sellers / Clouseau is harassing an organ grinder outside a bank, of course he completely missed the fact that the bank is being robbed, as he fixates on the organ grinder, does he have a permit etc…

Sellers “Do you have a li-cence for ze minky (monkey)?

Organ grinder “Listen mate, I don’t take his money, and he doesn’t tell me what to play.

That’s kind of the deal with the man in his camp and the mongrel.

June 17, 2012

Cabbages and Kings

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 12:31 pm

One of the things that is essentially male is to pass on advice to our boys, and younger clan members.

Now, as a man in my fifties, I have known for more than ten years that there was one shitload of stuff that my dad knew, but did not tell me. Why not?

Because what counted was what he DID tell me, the stuff he didn’t tell me was stuff he knew I had to learn for myself, so the best thing he could do was tell me the stuff he did.

For example, he was smart enough to know that there are some lessons in life that simply cannot be taught, the individual has to experience them for himself, and all you can do is PREPARE them, and after all, they are not you, their world is not your world, and their responses may not be yours, so preparing them for as many eventualities as possible is the best possible thing you can do for them.

Further to yesterday’s post about how to spot a niggerz, and trends over at the spearhead with an ever increasing numbers of wimminz / niggerz agitators and ever increasing numbers of “useful idiots” that argue with everything because the alternative is to accept that some aspect of their life sucks, so rather than acknowledge that they shoot the messenger.

Now if I cast my mind back to times where my dad could have warned me, I recall that in actual fact he just looked at me, and with the benefit of hindsight and being a father myself, he was doing that age old calculation, what can I tell this boy, if anything, that will prepare him better for the situation he now faces?

And a lot of the time he said fuck all, because he had done what he could, and some of the time he asked me what I wanted to do, go down road A or road B, and offered help either way.

In hindsight, I always made the better choice, nota bene, no such thing as right and wrong choices, just better and worse choices, and again with the benefit of hindsight, the better choice is always one that maximises your future options, and the worse choice is the one that limits your future options.

Getting your face and hands tattooed, robbing a bank at gunpoint, throwing away what you have to set up house with a slut, these are all worse choices, because once you make any of them your future choices are always drastically limited.

Those three example choices never actually go away, I could do any of them next week, which is another thing about better vs worse choices, AT THE TIME, worse choices always seem like once in a lifetime deals, grab it now or forever lose it, and better choices always seem like meh, I can do that shit next week if I feel like it, whereas the reality is the exact opposite, because the worse choice collapses the future option tree and suddenly the better choices are no longer available, and this collapsing of the option tree is EXACTLY what differentiates between a better and a worse choice.

At this point I must stress that simply not making a choice, in the interests of keeping that future option tree as wide and diverse as possible, is in fact making a choice, the choice of choosing not to make a choice, and therefore choosing to open a third path, the path of the cypher who has no choices and is influenced by others, and there is always enough of that shit in life for anyone.

Let us take “game” for an example.

I am not a proponent of game, and if you think I am you have not read this blog sufficiently, but neither am I a detractor, it is what it is, and like all things it has good and bad, and like all things it offers lessons, good and bad, to those willing to watch and learn.

However now over at the spearhead there is an ever increasing number of posters who are defiantly anti-game, and openly ridiculing anyone who buys into it, and an increasing number of posters who are pro-game, and openly ridiculing anyone who rejects it.

And they are BOTH wrong, because the real choice is not pro-game vs anti-game, the real choice is between pro/anti game rulebooks, and no rulebook and making each individual play / choice as it arises.

It is human nature, it is lazy / easier to go by a given book of rules than it is to examine each choice and play your cards, it is also easier to swallow when things go wrong, because the choice was not made by you, but by the book you follow.

Go over to ZeroHedge and see everyone who took liar loans blaming the nasty evil bankers for pushing those loans on to them.

___I__ do not have a liar loan motherfucker, I refused to take them, and I also forfeit the House as an ATM and second and third re-mortgage and interest only mortgage (what fucking idiot would sign up to a loan where you NEVER repay the capital????) but then I chose to forgo the SUV in the driveway and two foreign holidays a year and all the other shit you spent your credit on.

Yes, it is a TOUGH choice to go without, to only have what you can buy for cash, to live within your means, to be driving an old car while you smirk at me with your flash new motor and foreign holidays and hello ladies let me buy you some champagne.

It is a TOUGH choice to refuse to sign up for infinite credit and to effectively spend the next ten years living in the lap of luxury, WHILE CONSUMING YOUR ENTIRE LIFETIMES’ WORTH OF PRODUCTIVITY AND VALUE IN ONE SHORT ORGY OF CONSUMPTION AND EXCESS,  but it is a fuckton EASIER than being where you fuckers are now, having consumed everything on offer and used up your lifetimes worth of productivity, and then getting presented with the fucking bill, and facing the rest of your life in austerity to pay it off.

Their future options trees have one branch, with one teensy tiny microscopic twig coming off it, in the shape of a lottery win as an exit strategy alternative to paying the piper.

I may be in a mere flat, but I have my workshop out back, nobody can repo any of my shit or vehicles, I am sat directly in front of my paid for giant screen TV, in the exact ideal viewing position, with my paid for quality speakers on quality stands again with the ideal stereo image focusing on the exact spot where I am sitting, the small table by my side is in the ideal and comfortable place for me, and while my income is low, I can live within my means, and have as much free time to do my own shit as I please.

If times get harder economically, I can cut back my already meagre living expenses by as much as 50% without any great genuine hardship, it will be austere and it will be putting on extra layers of clothing instead of the central heating, but I HAVE THAT OPTION.

I might not LIKE that motherfucking option of wearing pullovers and walking to get around town, but I HAVE that motherfucking option. My option tree is quite diverse.

Option trees start inside your head, with your fucking attitude to life, and this is the stuff my dad DID teach me, and so the things he might have said or taught me but did not do not matter, because after all like all human beings, we had limited time together on this earth, and neither of us knew how much time we would have together, so he taught me to have options, rather than teaching me a rule book and a list of his experiences and choices and specific things that he could warn me about.

With the benefit of 20/20 hindsight, there were times when he considered as an option simply washing his hands of me, as doing otherwise would have limited his options arbitrarily.

If you think he was being harsh, he was not, he would have done anything for me, except to support and enable me to be a complete fuckup, get my face tattooed, rob a bank, throw away my life to play house with a slut, those things I could do on my own two feet, without limiting his options.

And that was perhaps the greatest lesson he taught me about options, the difference between being a father and being an owner of your children.

Why didn’t you protect me from some of the bad choices I made dad?” is a question I never asked him, but could posit as a theoretical one now.

And though he is long gone, I can hear his answer, “Protect YOU from choices YOU made boy???” and he would just look at me, and say “I TRIED to teach you son, don’t blame me if you chose not to listen and thought you knew everything and were a man enough to run your own life.

and the unspoken rest, he could have sacrificed his life to try to save me, and I would not have been saved because I was still running my own show, and then he would have given up all his options trees too, and then we would both have been fucked, and my memory of him, WHICH STILL GUIDES ME TODAY, would be a lesson in how to limit your options and fuck up and wail that it ain’t my fault, I had no choice, I was talked into shit, people PROMISED me shit, I didn’t REALISE it would end like this, I didn’t THINK IT THROUGH, and I don’t wanna be PUNISHED for it.

As the economy and democracy unravels in the western world, and the options trees of millions of people collapse into single branches with few offshoots, or in the case of war to the end of the branch completely and personal annihilation, I raise a glass to my dear departed dad, “I can’t live your life for you boy.

No, but he did the best job he could, under the circumstances of HIS life, to prepare me for MINE.

And with THAT realisation I sleep far easier having walked away from my own kids, when the only option the State and my psycho skank ho ex were prepared to offer was for me to destroy myself and my option tree and present myself as sub-human low life pond scum to have any kind of contact at all with my boys.

Under those “only offer on the table” circumstances the only things I would be teaching my boys is how NOT to prepare for their lives, as it is, I am an enigma to them, sure, mummy says their daddy is an antichrist who would have raped them and then eaten their bodies, but mummy says a lot of shit and none of it is true, nobody who lives in her house can be under any doubt about that, whereas daddy, well, who knows what daddy is, and as / when / if they eventually get to know him, he will still have an option tree open, to do the best job he can, under the circumstances of MY life to prepare them for THEIRS.

%d bloggers like this: