March 30th

Early spring in Chicago should come with a "Warning: Bipolar Warning." Like any other time of year, the temperature fluctuates, perhaps as much as 30 degrees in a single week.

But in spring that means the difference between a below-freezing night, or a glorious sun shining down on flocks of children running up and down the lakeside. As I right this, a howling wind tears through our bedroom: our landlord really needs to work on the insulation.

But I love that first warm day of spring, just like everyone else. The heat makes people giddy: last week, one of my friends Facebook'd a picture of a child throwing his jacket in a fountain. He danced around and screamed "I'll never need this again!"

Winter 2005-2006 sucked for me. That was my first year of university, and never in my life had I felt so lonely. High school sent all my friends to other, better schools, while I attended the University of Illinois at Chicago, a mid-tier state university Downtown. At 19 and a late bloomer in virtually every respect, my childish frame and boyish awkwardness kept me at arm's distance from anyone else.

I felt beyond lonely. A million people surrounded me, and I had not a single real friend. 

I had a hopeless crush on a chestnut haired girl. Her name was Ashley. Another girl, a young Indian, was crazy for me: I couldn't even think of her, except of how sad I felt for her, and how sad I felt for myself, and how no one in this mess would end up happy. It would take until 2013 before any of the three of us would scrap out any sense of permanence.

Spring 2006 started on March 30th. That was Ashley's birthday. We shared one late afternoon class together that day. The first warm day of the year, I was already in a great mood. Even better, when Ashley came into sight on the quad, I saw her in a dress for the first time, a long, flowing maxi dress, floral white painted on a deep purple.

University seemed bad for me then. Little did I know it would get so much worse. That day, March 30th, 2006, on her 19th birthday, I fell harder for her than I ever had for any girl before. It would take years and years before I finally got her out of my system.

But I still remember March 30th. It's one of the few bright, sunny days I ever had at college.

Subjugation vs Leadership

While reading Alpha Game, I noticed this gem from their newest interlocutor:

I do not hate humanity, only the parts that want women to be subjugated to men. Who uses excuses like women being "exempt from work" to keep them dependent on men. Who thinks only men should overtly make their mark on the world, while women remain shadows. Who thinks men should lead and women follow. Who thinks that the world should remain controlled and shaped by men while women just serve.

 Without question, I cannot speak for Vox and his commentators, nor should I even try: his blogs convinced me that the Red Pill can embrace a more sophisticated and civilized debate than the fecal-throwing cesspool that was Roissy (though I enjoyed Roissy quite a bit, I might add!)

However, I did want to interject on this point. Due to the continual progress of gender "equality," any suggestion of a strong male leadership role immediately draws out all manner of hyperbole from the opposition. Frothing feminists assume this means we want to overturn decades of gender legislation and subordinate women entirely to men, kick them out at all places of power, require them to have sex on demand, etc.

Again, I cannot speak for Vox(who advocates for the elimination of the female franchise to the best of my knowledge). I can vouch that the great number of men do not wish at all to erode the last decades of gender progress. The legion of Beta men support women in their quest for higher education, birth control, safe streets, and legitimate outs from abusive or failing relationships.

Take it from Roosh:

 I will concede that some aspects of feminism are just and proper. Women should have some say of how many children they want, if they want to work, and if they want to get married (and with whom). They should not be held as sex slaves against their will. They should be rewarded based on their skills and accomplishments just like a man should, and equal pay for equal work is reasonable.

Even the most staunch supports of Neo-Masculinity support, with full faith and strength, the legitimate demands for female agency. The constant protests from the Froth Brigade, that we DEMAND women stay at home, we REFUSE to pay women equal wages, we INSIST upon sex with no commitment, etc, are all hollow lies.

 What we support is a push-back on a culture obsessed with elevating the role of women and attacking men. Roosh details the end game of Feminism in a different post. A small excerpt follows:

1. Girl has no willpower and is 50 pounds overweight? Not her fault. She’s beautiful. Social constructs need to be changed.
2. Girl sluts around with 100 guys without condoms? Not her fault. She’s empowered and strong.
3. Girl is irresponsible with sex and has five abortions in her 20s? It’s her body and she can do whatever she wants. A fetus inside her is not a living entity.
4. Girl is making less money than men? The patriarchy is holding her down.
5. Girl gets drunk in a guy’s house and has sex with him? He took advantage of her. She was raped.
6. Girl studies stupid major in college and can’t get a job? The 1% owes her a marketing manager position. 

For brevity's sake, I will not post the entire list. However, for the average enlightened Beta, these constant attacks resemble a one-way Operation Barbarossa upon a disarmed, peaceful, loving Denmark. The aggression upon men who support the rights of women to vote, work, and live alone is simply unwarranted. This harkens back to my prior post, highlighting a continual process of moral elevation by men and furious rhetorical assault by bitter feminists.

The Neo-Masculine movement does not teach men to oppresses. It teaches men to ignore this unearned barrage and embrace their masculine energy. It teaches them the joys of being a man (which does not include higher wages), and how to properly command and lead in romantic relationships.

Why do I use the terms "command and lead"?

Because for the vast majority of couples, a commanding male role is a welcome addition. Men enjoy the leadership role and feel comfortable in it: women generally enjoy a strong, caring hand guiding them through the world. When the time for physical intimacy arrives, both man and women can fall into their instinctive dominant and submissive roles, which are the biological consequence of testosterone differences between biological sexes.

This does not mean sentencing women to the kitchen or chaining them to the bedroom. What works for each couple will vary from couple to couple, due to differences in upbringing, temperament, and condition. Obviously my Wife will not raise children at home, as we need to pay off her student debt and wish to live in an expensive neighborhood with top-rated schools. My Wife is generally not allowed to cook, because I enjoy the honest joy of preparing flavorful and healthy meals for my family.

However, I will set the schedule for the day, let her know in no uncertain times when I believe she is failing one of the chores assigned to her, decide all meals, dictate the family budget, and expect intimacy more or less upon demand.

These "privileges" are mostly one-way, with others reciprocating. Her privilege is having a caring lead that will save her from the stress of constant decision-making, shield her from emotions turbulent enough to capsize a carrier, and protect her from all harm. To her, this is a great deal. Since marrying me, her humor has greatly improved, her weight has down, her stress has dissipated. The sad times of trying to live her own life and struggling to get the garage door open or failing to change laundry in time are finished.

Obviously, not all relationships follow this model, nor should they. My sister-in-law has few employment opportunities and no student debt: of course she remains at home and raises children. Father cannot cook, so of course Mother Dearest prepared meals for the family (though Father always washed afterwards). My Father-In-Law traveled for work, thus my Mother-In-Law bore the brunt of all domestic chores.

The specifics change, but the Neo-Masculine movement wishes to establish a resounding harmony across all relationships, a chord of male leadership and female submission. And, again, this does not entail removing female choice in any fashion.

Our duty is to lead by example and display the benefits of these absolutely healthy, absolutely normal relationships. My Sunday began with a classic farmhouse breakfast, three over-easy eggs cooked in rich bacon drippings. After that, I finished up this post. My Wife wanted some stimulation, so I threw her on the bed and we tickled each other for ten or so minutes (not everything is about sex). |Then I led her to the ellipticial and told her she should continue her exercise routine.

She is still a doctor, she is still employed, she is neither barefoot nor pregnant.

That's what Neo-Masculinity promises men or women.

Here's what feminists promise you:

That paycheck? That means women don't have to keep themselves attractive to and submit to a man. Despite you being into it; submission, to most, equals the death of the human spirit - that spirit that is supposed to take life by the throat and challenge it - to make what one can of it oneself.

You might be happy living on your knees, most of us would rather risk die standing.

Romanticizing much? Here is what they actually deliver:

“College is nothing more than a baby-sitting service. These students are totally unprepared for the real world. The reality for women who want to work in PR is that they are going to be working with 24 catty [women] who will backstab and compete with them. No one will say thank you. You will eat lunch at 5 p.m. It sucks and it’s hard work."

 Does that sound like anything besides living on your knees? Anything besides submission? Women have advanced, but they collectively exchanged the chains of domestic servitude for the intoxicating high of consumer goods and hollow serial monogamy, and find that neither can fill the gaping hole permanently etched into the human soul.

Neo-Masculinity will deliver men and society perfectly suited for such a yearning, and it will not be accomplished by a collective disenfranchisement of women, but by a willing surrender, on an individual level, to masculine men who make their own ambitions their life's mission.

Martini Friday

I am out of gin.

I cannot tell you how extremely irritating this is for me. So let me explain.

My bookshelf, seated besides my dining room table, displays Tolstoy, Wolfe, Dickens, Kissinger, so and so forth.

On the second shelf.

The top shelf features a tall bottle of Sweet Vermouth, white wine glasses, shaker, coasters, and until today a goddam bottle of gin. In my freezer, I permanently keep four martini glasses. Pisses my Wife off royally, but I want it so I get it.

Gin martinis are the first drink whenever I entertain. I gather the men folk in the kitchen, we discuss our jobs and our reading, I describe how I make a martini, and then I make a martini.

And sometimes I cheat and have one myself on Friday.

Grocery shopping is tomorrow morning, and you know the first thing on the list.


Last weekend proved a little stressful, but we ended up with a house in good condition. A double-tapped breaker was our only issue, easily fixed, and we plan to upgrade to 200 AMP service in the next few years anyways. No, the actual work week proved to be more than I was worth. Our $17,000 Question came back to haunt us; the CSR Help Desk gave us the wrong fax number, our insurance contact refused to believe we actually had $750,000 missing, and has thus far refused to help us.

And must I say she was not even the most unhelpful insurance person this week? My personal favorite was the deduction on several hundred thousand Medicare claims...without notifying us. The insurance company then told us the patients had overpaid copays. That's no big deal.
But when we looked into the adjustments, we determined that they actually reduced our dispensing fee. And reduced it to well below our contracted rates.
That is not running a bad business. That is running a dishonest business. Next week we let loose the hounds.

There's a reason we prefer women-folk to raise our children, as opposed to coarsening themselves in this ridiculous environment.

However, this weekend bodes well. Tomorrow my Wife and I will be attending a friend's party. My favorite party of her parties is her liquor reserve, which is deep enough to satisfy a passing Russian armored brigade. Jenna is going on a date with another one of my friends: I suspect that will end badly, but what's the harm in hoping? 

In the mean time, I cannot have a martini, but I can listen to some Sinatra.

The Missing Fanfare

I

Tuesday Night proved the slightest of reprieves. With our team down two people headed into the month-end, my days would soon become surging whirlpools, each hour passing with another torrential downpour of paperwork and journal entries and discrepancy analysis.

Tuesday night was Book Club night, the last hurrah before this storm began. This would be the intellectual smorgasbords to tide me over until April 5^th, when our “month-end” fast finally reached denouement.  

I loved it. We dove into duality, the nature of applying rational systems to an irrational reality, Greek myth, book-ends, and the use of visual design to create concepts as deep as Tolstoy in reading lighter than Ironman. Several of the young men there, I had met before: this night was the first chance to see them in their intellectual prime, free to explore concepts without limits, all accompanied by a (healthy) amount of 10% porters.

Imagine my surprise when my friend nudged me and said she would have to leave soon, and she would “explain later.”

???

II

“Jenna” drives me up a wall sometimes. Once she got pissed at my Best Man because he was “too helpful”: he kept trying to help her carry heavy bags and beers when we set up camp. She whines about not “clicking” with any guys. Last month, she whined that she wanted me to unfriend her ex-boyfriend, because she felt like he was “winning” their break-up.

She’s a screwball, twisted enough to make Marilyn Monroe proud.

What could possibly piss her off now?

Was it my mistake to ask?

Jenna shot me a Dickens-esque text message. I swear reading through that drama took longer than reading the actual book for the damn book club. This could, of course, have been summarized much more adroitly.  

The young man next to me dated Jenna briefly. Now she felt awkward, since she rejected him, and humiliated, because his girlfriend was sitting next to him, quiet but attentive, and she was still single.

So, her life sucked, the Book Club felt like hell, and she clamored for a hasty retreat. Netflix would shelter her from the consequences of poor life decisions.

III

What’s wrong with the young man next to me?

You can’t help but try to find fault, after someone tells you they are rejecting something. Perhaps that’s just my INTJ-mind. Rejection implies flaw, or at least superior option (according to taste). Given that my friend is still single, and has been for months, she has found no “superior options,” so this man must bear some serious, fatal flaw.

Right?

It couldn’t have been his job: he worked at the same company as me, a Fortune 50, only he worked in IT and had more job stability, career prospects, and compensation than me.  His teeth were clean, he dressed well enough. He spoke clearly and confidently, and offered a number of great comments on the parallels to Greek philosophy: he was smart and cultured.

They were both at the same book club. So they must have had the same interests.

Was he too picky? Possibly, but his girlfriend next to him packed a few extra pounds. She was by no  means ugly, and she dolled herself up  in cardigan, earrings, and makeup for the night out, but she will never win a beauty contest.

So he shared a lot of common interests, was moderately good looking, had a good job, behaved well, showed great intellectual curiosity, wanted to settle down, and had no exceptionally high standards.

What the hell gives? Why is being single so much better than dating this guy?

Then the automatic braincrawl operating on my deepest memories returns a lot of “similar results.” This isn’t the first time Jenna has rejected a perfectly good guy. This isn’t the first time this month that any of the girls in my social circle whined about the dearth of good guys despite rejecting them by the dozen. 

IV

If the Feminists figured one thing right, it’s that Gender is a Social Construct. What a “Man” is has evolved over the millennium. These men I describe above, these men rejected by women, these particular “Good Guys” that might prove quite alien to our forefathers. They cook and clean, they let their wives work and do not expect to be sole breadwinners. They think it their responsibility to help raise children, they have not fought in foreign wars, and they have not spent much time in the wilderness or on the farms.

It’s a modern concept of masculinity, that remains somewhat cleaner, less strong than our forefathers.

Yet these men still embody some of the highest ideals ever envisioned for a man. They are educated, and use their minds to raise the national well-being. At leisure, they explore the classics, and delve into deep philosophical questions as our ancient philosophers might demand. They participate in modern civic life and remain in good standing with the Law. For the Feminists, they respect women and embrace a co-equal role, rather than a Superior role.

Yet…

“No more!” It’s an almost universal cry, echoing forth from the streets of Manhattan, the halls of Congress, the hills of Applachia, the plains of Kansas, the bayou of Louisiana, the valleys of California.

Why? Why does Jenna demand even more? Why does my sister-in-law state she is “sick of boring nice guys”?

This really deserves more insight. The Western World’s greatest achievement is the advancement of the Common Man. At the dawn of Enlightenment, the common man knew little and owned less. Greater than 90% of the population remained tied to the land, willing to kill over minor differences in religious belief, ignorant of the secrets of the atom or the passage of time or even the teachings of Aristotle.

His morality would guide him to enslave black Africans by the millions, to subjugate most of the world to European cannon, to waylay his own territory in the pursuit of purity, and in the end to launch industrial genocide. Treatment of both woman and child remained poor.

His material condition reflected his moral paucity. Following the Little Ice Age and High Middle Ages, the common man’s height slowly declined, a strong indication of poor living conditions and nutrition. Indeed, man’s average height was not to return to 12^th century norms until well into the 19^th century, at the dawn of the Industrial Age.

Our Common Cause has vastly improved the quality and quantity of young men for eligible bachelorettes. The modern Western man remains more tolerant, wealthier, more intelligent, more educated, more fit, kinder, more compassionate, and less violent than his predecessors in any century.  Harkening back to the 1600s isn’t even necessary: the general trendline is visible over just a matter of decades, in falling violent crime rates (especially towards women), or the increase participation of women and people of color in public life.

We have spent a great deal of time creating a new masculinity that serves both man and woman well. Yet our marriage rates are plunging, our out of wedlock of birth rates incredibly high, the complaints of women louder than ever over the tiniest of microaggressions.

There is no celebration over our moral advance, merely a cacophony of hissing. 

V

Of course, I knew what the problem with Beta Boy Programmer was at a glance, just as we all know the problem with Men at a glance: they aren’t hot enough. Much like Jonas from Lois Lawry’s “The Giver,” women are surrounded by men a uniform shade of boring gray. While these men certainly prove a sight better than any prior generation, they inspire no lust, no imagination, no shortness of the breath.

Men may eventually experience this, too. Certainly when life cosigns a poor masculine soul to cubicle farming amongst a sea of obese, divorced land whiles a part of the genuine masculine passion dies: I feel this myself daily. Women, given their Biological Curse, deal with this every day, with the vast majority of men.

Any other situation would have doomed their foremothers to a lifetime of bastard children.

Some men simply struggle mightily with finding a date, with generating interest, with keeping a woman interested. They lack the social skills, the raw physical appeal, the humor, and the wardrobe necessary to appeal to the Feminine “Mystique.” This is our Male Privilege, and, historically, Our Common Cause has not empowered men with the ability to seduce and woo women. Indeed, this has not even been a priority. Because of this, we have conceded rules of courtship to continual reformation under the behest of self-interested women folk, to the detriment of less attractive men folk.

Our Common Cause had other things to accomplish. When we began the Modern Era, we considered issues of representation and fairness and industry the matter of the day. We valued the prestige of the Noble Man and ultimately sought to bring his behavior to the reach of the Common Man: thus the Gentleman, once identified entirely by his stance in the English class system, can be to be identified with conduct, education, industry, and utility.

Our Common Cause will bestow the honor, prestige, and respect of a Gentleman even upon a half-black bastard child born of a Common Woman, provided he educates himself, proves useful to his People, and earns the respect of his Nation.

That is the evolution of the Male role today, and is why so many Young Men value, properly if I may add, Good Behavior, Good Work, and Good Education.

But this does not result in Good Mating.

To win a woman’s lust requires different skills than that championed by Our Common Cause. Not at odds with Our Common Cause, I may add, simply different. We must maintain an Amused Mastery, demonstrate our sense of worth, refuse to heed to senseless demands, and generally demonstrate that We, the Creators of this Civilization, are the prize.

None of this opposes Our Common Cause. None of this demands we shackle our Brothers in chains. None of this demands we suspend the franchise and roll out Charles II corpse. None of this demands that we appoint Local Lords to adjudicate our disputes. None of this demands we restrict the Press.

None of this is an opposition at all, it is merely a recognition of biological reality. To ignore biological reality is to embrace those failed offshoots of Our Common Cause embraced in Moscow, Beijing, or Pyongyang. 

VI

What is required is a recognition of what we already know: There is no Fanfare for the Common Man, not from the Womenfolk. Our failure, though, is the failure to acknowledge how far we really have come. Common discourse demands a roll-back in rights and an admission of failure over the last several decades.

While mistakes were made, this is not required. Neo-Masculinity does not require a return to the 1950s, and America’s future does not require a re visitation of all our successes.

Neo-Masculinity requires a new vision. It requires a remonstration of the toxic “Feminism” plaguing our culture, that demands our Colleges be cleansed of ideas, that our Workplaces become subject to quotas, that our Armed Services water down their standards and jeopardize our national defense. It further requires a demonstration, that of the pride and honor of manly virtue celebrated on a daily basis with no apology and no resignation.

Finally, we require an explanation, or a cogent belief system and explanation for our values. Again, with no apology, and no resignation.

Our civilization is great, our cause is just, and our honor untainted. The 21^st Century is not the End of Men, but the relighting of Our Common Cause.

Family

thouhastclothing over at Dalrock comments:

@BradA – Everyone says that it’s ok in the long run (ADBG: They are discussing divorce). Let’s look at the long run in my life (parents separated when I was 23): I dropped out of grad school with one year of work left to do, hitchiked around the middle east trying to get myself killed. Similarly in: Alaska, Norway, UK, and everywhere else in the world. I signed up to be ‘boots on the ground’ but missed my chance to go to ‘ganners. Ended up ‘settling’ 6,000miles from my family.

Note: these are all my fault and I accept full responsibility for my highly irresponsible actions.

One sister ended up in NZ. Every sibling has gotten a minimum of 1,000 miles away from home almost immediately after age 18. We still have a great family. Just not what it would have been. All the children are trying to make their lives away from the narcissism. Perhaps one day we’ll bring our son to see his family. God will have to continue to get ahold of me for that to be possible. His grace is always good so in that sense there are benefits.

“It’s good in the long run” – drinking gasoline might be a good way to lose weight but there are better ways to do it.

 Last weekend, my Wife and I celebrated my Father-In-Law's sixtieth birthday. We arrived at 10 in the morning to set up balloons, streamers, and party hats while FIL was gone. After that was set-up, we put 60 candles on the cake, a vanilla-chocolate swirl baked from my scratch in my kitchen by my Wife.

Four siblings live in the Chicagoland area, and attended in person. One lived in New York City: she sat on Skype for hours while the party continued. Everyone pitched in to cook dinner, and my Wife and I finally arrived home around 8 PM.

My Father-in-Law mentioned that he is looking to downsize in the next few years. He mentioned off-hand that he looked at some townhomes around my new home. My Mother-In-Law has mentioned numerous times that since she only works a day or two a week she can look after any Junior Betas, and would like to be close.

This weekend, my Brother-In-Law called, in a panic that he might not be able to pay for his car (currently on loan from his father). I told my Wife that we can lend him a small bit of money without problem: even after our down payment and closing costs, we have five months of expenses left in the bank (my Wife and I consider our attitude towards money conservative, although we have suckled the credit teat far more than I care to admit).

My Mother-In-Law called my Wife, tearfully insisting that she has the money to help, and we need not lend a single penny. Since my Wife is a....erm....sympathetic person, she teared up as well.

Today, I dropped by my parents briefly, and dropped off a check: I owed them quite a bit of money, because they fronted us the cash for our weeklong family vacation back in January. We stayed a few hours, talking about our new house, our closing date, and then playing with my young nephew. My mother made a beef roast with mashed potatoes and my Wife and I enjoyed some of it, before heading home.

This week is busy, but my 80+ year old grandmother-in-law is in town, and we'll visit her on Wednesday.

There isn't a day that goes by I do not speak to my family, and there is hardly a week that goes by without seeing them in person.

 Entirely by coincidence, neither my parents nor my In-Laws are divorced.