The disease is in your genes, part deux

The beauty about having an open forum policy on a blog means the comment section can be run on autopilot. The patrons of In Mala Fide are a passionate but civilized lot, who know to not put their feet on the furniture and to respect the rules of the house. As I’ve been strapped for time lately, I didn’t notice that Susan Walsh had responded to my post last week criticizing her until I spotted a trackback on this post. Not wanting to see my reply lost in the shuffle, I’m responding to her response to my response right here. (Try saying that five times fast. I dare you.)

Ferdinand, coming back from two weeks abroad and finding your post is like sitting down to a good crossword puzzle. I enjoy the dialogue, as well as the challenge. Let me say right off that you have my respect. I recently stumbled across your blog through a Google alert, and found it well researched and well written. I follow you on Twitter because I am interested in what you have to say. Although I don’t agree with all of it, I believe you’d be surprised how frequently we’re on the same page. I had no need to bite the bullet to validate Game. We’re fighting for the same thing in different ways, with different populations. You’re on the getting laid side, I’m on the relationship side. For what it’s worth, I consider you a formidable force to be reckoned with.

I don’t really see you, Roissy and T. Max as an unholy triumvirate, though the religious symbolism is appealing. You are indeed a disciple, working tirelessly to spread the gospel of Roissy (or is it Mystery?), a doctrine that has successfully captured the hearts and minds of a great number of youngish men (though not all of mankind, as one might suppose from reading your blogs). And why shouldn’t you spread the Word? As I acknowledge in my own writing, Game works. It is awesomely effective. When a guy writes to me and tells me all he wants is to get laid, I’ll be more than happy to point him to Roissy, or you.

A little bit about where I’m coming from: As roosh pointed out, I’m a management consultant. My background is primarily in economics and marketing, two disciplines that lend themselves very well to analyzing relationships. I’m 53, mother of a 22 year-old son and 20 year-old daughter, married for 25 years to a man who was most definitely born beta. His high IQ, work ethic, and education enabled him to climb the social ladder and enjoy high mating value in his mid-20s, which is when I met him. It was parenting that got me interested in hookup culture (and Tom Wolfe’s “I Am Charlotte Simmons). I write Hooking Up Smart because I love to do it, and because a lot of people respond to it. Not so much for the pennies, though I’d be happy to buy you a cup of coffee next time you’re in Boston. One reader told me I’m like “a mom without the “I told you so.”” That sums it up pretty well.

Game is marketing. Plain and simple. As a strategy, it is effective in helping men to get laid. I believe one commenter on Roissy said, “this blog is all about screwing.”

Reading this made me feel like radio talk show host and lesbian Bill Cunningham who, whenever a caller refers to him as “a great American,” responds with a haughty, egotistical “Yes I am.” Though I protest your characterization of me as a mere “disciple” of Roissy’s. While his ideas have influenced me considerably, I was aware of and was studying and perfecting game well before I encountered his blog.

You describe yourself as an average-looking guy. Let’s say you’re a physical 5 and a mental 9 or 10. (I won’t ask you if your teeth are white and straight, or if you have six-pack abs, or a great head of hair with no sign of recession, because I don’t want to hurt your feelings.) You went through high school and college feeling like you didn’t exist for girls. Maybe you even got laughed at. You were a virgin a lot longer than you’d like to admit. Frat rats and dumb jocks got all the ass. Eventually, you got mad as hell, and you decided you weren’t going to take it anymore. Who could blame you?

There seems to be this meme running around claiming that guys who got into the game did so because they were “mad as hell” virgins or envious of “frat rats and dumb jocks [getting] all the ass.” In fact, what I noticed before discovering game was that many guys who were physically unremarkable and all-around losers saw more action then guys who had everything going for them, and the pop culture explanations for this phenomena didn’t fit. I was curious and sought answers. I lost my virginity in high school, and had had girlfriends prior to discovering game, but all of those instances were the result of dumb luck rather then any conscious action on my part. By learning game, I was able to take my romantic life into my own hands, rather then being at the mercy of the capricious god known as Serendipity.

Enter Roissy. Roissy has the answer. Women like being dominated. It’s true. We all do, to some extent, at least some of the time. Though Roissy was inspired by The Story of O, my favorite example is Lina Wertmuller’s Swept Away (1974, don’t bother with the Madonna remake). Though this film infuriated feminists, I’ve never known a woman who wasn’t seriously turned on by the working man’s debasing treatment of the socialite when the tables are turned and she must rely on him for survival.

Women do penalize guys for being too kind or respectful. See “Why Nice Guys Ignore the Girls They Like:”

http://www.hookingupsmart.com/2009/06/11/hookinguprealities/why-nice-guys-ignore-the-girls-they-like/

We’re agreed, a good dose of game is good strategy.

No arguments here.

What I don’t understand about Game is how it could possibly work in the long-term. It’s one thing to spend every night having sex, swearing off marriage and exulting in your dominance over women when you’re 25.

All of the critics say this, and all of the critics are wrong. Dave from Hawaii, one of my colleagues at The Spearhead, has written extensively on how learning game saved his marriage and improved his relationship with his wife. His most relevant writings are here, here, and here. Another example is Sweater from Neil Strauss’s The Game, who entered the seduction community because he wanted to get married and left when he found the woman of his dreams. The principles of game are universal, irregardless of whether the man is looking for easy sex or a wife.

Do you really see yourself pulling ass in bars for the next 40 years? Who do you think will lap up your technique when you’re 50, assuming you’re not worth millions? Even Roissy, pretty boy though he is, will have trouble in a few more years if he’s not showing up in a limo.

Do you not want sons? For that matter, do you not want smart sons?

It’s difficult to pull that sort of thing off, but it is possible. That said, I plan on cashing out and getting married somewhere down the road. Those little Ferdinands and Ferdinandettes aren’t going to sire themselves. I wouldn’t be able to do that if I didn’t have game.

If you had a daughter, born in this era of equalish rights for women, would you celebrate her being utterly degraded sexually? Would you applaud her limping home with a bloody rectum? Would you endorse some guy tossing her a towel and telling her she needs to wipe his cum off her face?

“Bloody rectum”? Remember the old adage about sex – if it hurts, you’re doing it wrong. And if I have a daughter, I’m either outright arranging her marriage for her or having her join the LDS church to marry a nice Mormon boy, as those are the only ways to guarantee she won’t fall into the hands of some scumbag.

Do you feel any desire to be loved in this life by a woman, and to love her unreservedly in return?

As I once said, “all romantic love starts down below.” Unconditional love is a myth.

Do you not understand that the best, mind-blowingest sex requires more than a physical joining?

For chicks, yes, but that’s not my problem. Simple insertion comprises half of what guys consider good sex, and the rest a girl can learn with an instructional video and a spare zucchini.

Do you ever crave the companionship of a female who is smart, interesting or funny?

Game works most effectively on smart and interesting women, because dummies are incapable of grasping its nuances. And contrary to the myths of our time, the beautiful are generally smarter then the ugly.

Someone, in other words, whose IQ may top Roissy’s limit of 120?

Hogamus, higamus,

Men are polygamous,

Higamus, hogamus,

Women, hypergamous.

Women are hardwired to prefer men who are higher in status then them. This includes IQ. Much like how economically independent women are hampered because the number of men who are richer then they shrinks as their own wealth grows, exceptionally smart women are hampered because the number of men smarter then they (or even just as smart as they) is smaller then women with average IQs. Blame female biology. It’s also worth noting that high-IQ people in general are handicapped romantically because they tend to be awkward and lacking in social skills (e.g. nerds, geeks). This mostly harms men, but smart women are afflicted too.

Do you not have women friends who are all these things but only average looking? And do you never develop feelings of any kind for them?

Men fall in love with their eyes, women fall in love with their ears. So sayeth the wisdom of the elders.

Wake up guys, for the geek shall inherit the earth. Geez, look around you. Who do you think is running the show? In the 23 years I have spent raising my children, I have been surrounded by other couples, most of whom have only been married to each other. Many of them met in graduate school. Almost every single successful man in my own social milieu is a beta. They’re the professional class and the thinkers. They are socially dominant and have considerable economic resources. Most of them are average looking. All of them are smart. And they didn’t have to spend ten years as man whores to find good sex.

Susan Walsh, 2009: “Almost every single successful man in my own social milieu is a beta.”

Susan Walsh, 1972: “How did Nixon win? Nobody I know voted for him.”

Extrapolating how society works from your own limited social circle is a scientific FAIL. I’ve traveled in and out of many crowds during my life and for every single successful beta you can name, I can name two or three betas who have given up on the other sex and have retreated into a cocoon of video games and masturbation. The geeks in your social circle are few in number and are being outbred by beta religious fundamentalists, and the alphas are even catching up on them. Again, if your social circle was representative of society at large, there would be no market for the Mysterys and Roissys of the world.

(By the way, as an interesting aside, some very ordinary looking people have absolutely gorgeous kids, and some very unathletic dads find themselves with jocks for sons. Betas sire Alphas, and vice versa. The genetic dice are wonderfully unpredictable.)

Any unathletic dad who has a jock for a son would be well advised to get a paternity test.

As I said in my post, Roissy sums it up best:

“You get what you give, ladies. Give your pussies to assholes, you’ll get nothing but assholes in return.”

That’s what Hooking Up Smart is all about.

And as F. Roger Devlin says (wait, wasn’t that Cary Grant’s character in Notorious?):

“For an ordinary man to mate with a woman, either (1) he must work himself into her field of erotic vision (e.g., by amassing wealth and achieving status — not by demonstrating that he is “kind” and “respectful of women”); or (2) she must take off the blinders and widen her own field of vision until it includes him.”

You’re working on number 1. Hooking Up Smart is all about number 2.

We both want the same thing.

Mrs. Walsh, wanting is irrelevant unless you know how to get from point A to point B. I can want to have a threeway with Sarah Palin and Kirsten Gillibrand (now there’s an image you’ll take with you to the grave), but unless I know how to get there, I might as well forget about it. You may want to help girls, but if your advice is grounded in faulty reasoning, you’re not going to aid anyone. You seem like a forthright and earnest individual, but I’ll be sticking with the ladies over at Girl Game for my estrogen-fused relationship advice fix.

Tagged as: Susan Walsh