The End.

Oh shit. What a day. It started innocently enough.

An explosive arguement broke out in the afternoon. A hastily packed suitcase. An evening spent brooding on a train. Hugs from my mother on the other side of the country.

So much for Relationship Game. If Athol Kay and Keoni Galt can make their marriages work then I take my hat off to them. If I made one big mistake it was a simple failure to screen for the right woman in the first place.

I gave Jane a second chance in the new year. She blew it. Every man has his line in the sand. Only so many warnings can be given. If she crosses the line am I meant to draw another? And another? And another?

Stick a fork in me. I’m done. Not just with Jane, but with LTRs as well. If being alone means living in modest circumstances then so be it. I’ll manage.

I’ll definitely continue blogging. Just not with the “workshy joe” handle. Jane knew about my writing from the get-go so I need a clean break. The manosphere hasn’t seen the last of me. I’ll be back soon with a new handle to match my new circumstances.

I’ll see you on the other side.

PhD = Player Hating Degree

In my post on Emotional Unavailability, whiteboykrispy left this comment:

Girls love emotionally unavailable dudes and it’s something I take pride in being.

I just got accused of being “emotionally available” two weeks ago, and I had to stop myself from smiling outwardly.

He’s absolutely right.

In my post on Narcissism I highlighted the comment of a man (?) who was alarmed that I was encouraging men to love themselves.

Joseph Stalin once wrote:

The writer is the engineer of the human soul.

If you can fill a man’s head with the murderous ideology of statism, you can just as easily teach him to self-destruct in his personal life.

This is what modern academics and the popular culture surrounding us today are all about. Keeping you small, weak, miserable, submissive and above all no threat to those in authority.

Long after Stalin’s death, political opponents of the CPSU were detained in psychiatric hospitals as mental patients.

Although reading about Game or being a player won’t get you involuntarily commited these days, it will expose you to the same psychiatric or psuedo-psychiatric shaming labels.

A “personality disorder” is actually defined as:

An enduring pattern of inner experience and behavior that deviates markedly from the expectations of the culture of the individual who exhibits it.

But what if the prevailing culture is fucked?

In todays society, PhD stands for Player Hating Degree.

Fortunately, those who periodically revise the psychiatric DSM are very sensitive to political pressure.

As recently as 1973 homosexuality was listed as a form of mental illness. Gay rights activists put an end to that.

In the near future, I hope that healthy heterosexual males will not be stigmatised to suit political agendas in the same way that homosexual males once were.

Narcissism Is Good.

Lathe of Heaven asked a great question in the comments.

Remember, the fastest way to become a believer in one’s own HV, in absence of evidence, is to become a self-centered, narcissistic jerk; in fact, believing excessively in your own value without evidence is practically the definition of narcissism. Do you really want to risk leading the omegas into this temptation?

Fuck YES!

That’s exactly what I want Omegas to do. Is there any good reason to hate yourself?

Fuck NO!

I am 100% deadly serious about this.

Roissy Maxim #30: When in doubt, ask yourself “WWJD?” What Would a Jerk Do? Then do that.

The Demographic Elephant-In-The-Room

Props to Susan Walsh for her honesty and integrity.

She was the first female blogger that I am aware of to deal with the topic of Shit Tests and now she has blazed another trail by pointing to the demographic elephant in the room and its effect on the Sexual Market Place.

Please visit her blog and leave some helpful comments on that post, giving some well-deserved encouragement and praise.

Reader Suggestion: Arranged Marriages

An anonymous commenter at my old blog made an interesting suggestion.

what do you think about the system of arrange[d] marriage? do a post about that

Being a never-married white anglo-saxon man who grew up in a modern secular household, I have no direct experience of arranged marriage.

All I have to go on with this subject are the conversations I have had with young Englishmen whose parents came from countries such as India, Pakistan and Bangladesh.

None of those guys were married yet but all of them expected their parents to take on the task of drawing up a short-list of suitable women.

Every one of these guys seemed genuinely thrilled about it. I’m not kidding!

I’m not a fan of the institution of marriage myself, but the idea of parental match-making for LTRs is still interesting.

However, I wouldn’t let my mother pick out girls for me. No way. Sorry mum. Love ya.

But back in the days when my Dad was still alive – God Bless Him – I would have trusted him to pick out some hotties for me 🙂

No Bromide Required

If I tell JLW that there is a possibility that he might get laid or have a girlfriend in future, he’ll beg to differ.

That’s fair enough. I’ve never met the guy. I don’t know about his life experiences, his looks, his social skills, his environment, etc.

But if I tell JLW that he shouldn’t crown himself Captain No Pussy and define his whole identity in terms of something he doesn’t have he gets very angry and accuses me of administering a metaphorical bromide to him!

Yeah! And if you never look down at the fuel dial, you can drive forever! You could write one of those “Who Moved My Cheese?” books based on that one thought. Add an introduction by another self-help huckster, a couple of folksey jokes, a few personal stemwinders ending with such revelations like: “I realized that, deep down inside, I’m me!” and wrap it up with a few bromides paraphrased out of that book of Gumpisms…shit, man, it’ll look like a graduate thesis.

Seriously, one’s value in the SMP is what the market says it is, not what you say it is. Although, with the “self-designated” adjective, there’s still hope that you recognize some omeganess, or degrees thereof, is not “self-designated” but just a product of who you are, warts and all.

I think over the next couple of weeks I’ll craft a couple columns for your inspection for possible “guest piece” consideration on this subject.

Potassium Bromide is the substance that the military of various countries are alleged to have administered to servicemen in order to contain their sexual appetites. Less controversially, it was used in medicine as a sedative.

So here I am trying to kill poor JLWs sex drive and/or lull him to sleep by telling him to enjoy his life in the absence of a partner.

So basically, I can’t win.

If I tell him to get Game, he’ll tell me to forget it.
If I tell him to be happy without women, I get accused of wanting to suppress his natural urges.

No bromide is required for men who are convinced – rightly or wrongly – that they can’t get laid.

Just a fleshlight and some hobbies.

Context

In the comments of a previous post, Bobby wrote:

The years don´t pass in vain. I used to look at a nice set of tits and ass and kinda dwell on it. Now I just think to myself ¨well isn´t that nice¨ and move on. I am not obsesively thinking about there being a pussy between those legs. Anymore, these thoughts leave my brain about as fast as they entered. Honest to god, I am enjoying my maturity; I feel so much more relaxed. Oh, and life is becoming more and more about ME.

Joe, that cat and I have alot in common.

I’ll turn forty in a couple of years and I think I know what Bobby’s talking about there.

Tranquility. Repose. Rest. Calm. Peace.

Although I don’t know what’s around the next corner any more than a man half my age I am much better at putting things into context now.

Carl Sagan has a neat way of spelling it out:

The Plight of The Unsexy Man

I hope readers don’t think I’m being snarky by picking that title for this post. I’m not. I’m just trying to get guys to distinguish their identity as a person and their sense of self worth from their relative position – real or imagined – in the sexual marketplace.

Reader JLW wrote in a comment:

True omeganess is indeed forced on a small group of people and there is nothing that they can do about that fact. Thanks for recognizing that there are omegas both by choice and by fate.

I’m not happy with the word “forced” in this context. Where is the coercion?

If a libertarian says “the government is forcing me to pay taxes” he’s right. Either you pay your taxes or the authorities come after you. You can’t “opt out” of government services. Its just a case of naked aggression and threat.

But is anyone “forced” to be alone? Not unless they are being held prisoner in a dungeon. A consensual relationship or sexual encounter is entered into freely by TWO people.

This is where I take issue with the TFL Movement. Being in a position where your relationship wants or needs do not happen to co-incide with those of another person doesn’t mean that anyone has been “forced” into anything. It just means that you are single!

For those fated to be omega, the real test is how you respond to it. Like the boy named Sue, you can let it break you or you can adopt a steely-eyed resolve to succeed in other parts of life.

Boy named Sue? The Johnny Cash song?

If I was that kid I’d just change my name. Sorry.

I’m not so sure about the “steely-eyed resolve” either. Doing things that you enjoy and following your bliss is not so hard really.

Thanks also to Joe for holding up his hands and having a “stop the madness” moment by recognizing that there is a group for which “Game” – however you choose to define it – is just a silly quest, like trying to train pigs to sing Rock Around the Clock.

Deciding that you have High Value is the first step. Acting in accordance with that assessment of High Value is the second step.

I don’t expect the average never-laid young man to give an Oscar-winning performance as a stud with Golden Cock Syndrome.

Fortunately, he doesn’t have to. I don’t care if he can’t read body language, can’t flirt, can’t tease, can’t do push-pull, can’t do cocky-funny or hasn’t turned himself into a great conversationalist and/or club dancer.

It doesn’t matter.

But the High Value thing is very important. If I could just persuade the self-designated “omegas” to put a higher price tag on themselves, their time and their energy I would consider that to be a great success.

Roissy tries to cartoonize omegas in his quest to drive as many guys into the Game big top that he can. Joe called him on it, pointing out that the freak omegas that Roissy highlights aren’t representative of the real omegas out there.

What alarms me is that alot of guys in their early twenties are calling themselves “omegas” on the grounds that they haven’t had sex yet.

That’s messed-up if you ask me. If a guy in his 50s complained that he had never had sex, then the label might be more appropriate.

Either way, owning your reality and embracing it is a must.

Marriage

Just say “no” to marriage kids. Have a good weekend!

Nicky G’s Sixty Day Challenge

Nicky G from At Liberty, At Leisure has a Sixty Day Challenge for the readers of In Mala Fide.

If I understand him correctly, the competition starts on June 6th and finishes sixty days after that.

I left a comment on his challenge, but it looks like I’ve committed myself to reaching the goal a little earlier – July 30th.

Never mind, its still doable!