Monthly Archives: January 2018

Rightists, leftists and centrists

There’s 3 types of political genetic strategies.

The first is the rightist. The rightist conquers and defends territory, uses nature’s hierarchy, builds civilization. He creates order. The rightist wants things to be fair, not because he cares about others, but because he knows it benefits him in the long run. He values honesty, loyalty, integrity. The rightist might be an asshole, but he is an honest asshole.

Being a successful rightist demands your value of being right to be greater than other people’s annoyance at you being right. This is risky. Ergo, rightists make up a minority of the population, say 10%.

The second is the leftist. The leftist is the evolutionary consequence of a recurring natural phenomenon, namely that in a prisoner’s dilemma it is very beneficial to defect. Leftism is entropy, the leftist creates chaos. The leftist says he values honesty, loyalty and integrity but only because he understands the power of an effective lie. Leftists are natural defectors, always on the lookout for a way to gain the system, the most popular current way being what Spandrell calls biological leninism.

Being a successful leftists demands you latch onto a greater body and leverage said body to your advantage. There are plenty of bodies to latch on to, so being a leftist is generally a sound strategy. I’d say leftists makes up about 20% of the population.

The third and final is the centrist. The centrist is about cooperation — not always honest, not always lying, just pragmatic cooperation. ‘Let’s just get along’ is the slogan of the centrist. Genes and life situation nudge the centrist in a rightist or leftist direction, but keeping the peace is always top priority.

Being a successful centrist demands not rocking the boat too much. It is quite a safe evolutionary strategy, hence centrists make up the bulk of the population, say 70%.

Leftists and rightists fight for control of society because both factions realize all flows downstream from power. Those in power decide, and those underneath that power follow. Centrists complain about radical leftists this and radical rightists that, but in the end their thinking processes are entirely dependent upon the Overton window as defined on the left side by radical leftists, on the right side by radical rightists. Or, spoken as a rightist hipster: centrists, otherwise known as normies, are a bunch of basic bitches.

Of course the right can not have too big of a mouth. After all, the right has been losing like there is no tomorrow. Centrists like winners and the left has been the clear winner of the past 200 years. Thus in normie society it is perfectly tolerable to be an outspoken leftist like Stephen Colbert but it is a faux-pas to be an outspoken rightist like Alex Jones.

Evolutionary entropy turns out to be a pretty powerful force.

On a final note, because the above strategies are genetic, people are very rarely swayed in opinion. No matter how watertight an argument is, if it doesn’t feel right it will be forgotten. Thus even a highly intelligent man like Jordan Peterson does not actually sway the masses in favor of rightism. He is simply a center-right intellectual explaining to fellow centrists that our current leftist overlords are moderately insane, which is only possible because our leftists overlords are extremely insane. Hence the relative ease with which he dismisses the label ‘racist’, which real rightists wear like a proud nick name.

 

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If you’re partying in another’s garden don’t be surprised if you get kicked out

For fans waiting on the next installment of the Orb of Covfefe — it’s coming. Just gonna take a little bit longer. Fiction is hard.

In the meanwhile, let’s see what’s up with Dutch mixed fraternities nowadays… Oh, a chapter of the most important one is throwing a party? Sounds like fun, let’s check the invite!

Schermafbeelding 2018-01-29 om 17.05.18
The opinion of a woman #don’tdo

The opinion of a women #don’tdo? And beneath that: from groupsex to childluring, what scandal will you get involved in? Sounds like quite some party! Let’s check out the official invite, translated for your viewing pleasure.

“One can find sexual border-crossing behavior¹ in all cultures across the world. […] We of [fraternity] course find this beautiful. That we can assault women since 1958 without questions asked is a luxury other men do not get to enjoy. […] However, the weaker gender has started a countermovement: #metoo. […] To keep our traditions high we naturally have to put an end to this. And what better opportunity than the upcoming [fraternity] carnaval! Because we of [fraternity] know better than anyone else that women have nothing to say about their body during carnaval.

The opinion of a women #don’tdo!

Honestly it is a bit crude but I can’t help but chuckle. This invitation is what the Dutch would call ‘studentical’; brazen but funny. It is also the sort of invitation that women will be indignant over, but once it turns out the invitation is issued by powerful men they will not mind one iota.

Unfortunately these men are no longer powerful. As I have said before, fraternities are an unprincipled exception. Student societies derive their power from the universities, but the universities hates hates hates männerbunds that treat women like sex objects. In other words, we’d expect the above behavior to be intolerable.

And, surprise surprise, that is exactly what happened. The media picked it up (MYSOGUNISTIC OUTRAGE), the university has cut funding and the fraternity has to grovel if they ever want it back. If you’re partying in another’s garden, don’t be surprised if you’re kicked out.

 


¹ Isn’t it interesting that ‘border-crossing behavior’ is a well-known Dutch phrase for bad behavior?

What really grinds my gears

Is the appropriation of genuine connection by mindless corporations.

Friendly chatter heartwarming stories

Which is not to say corporations are evil. Unchecked leftists are evil. Unchecked mindless corporations merely latch onto that evil for profit. They don’t care, they just want to make a buck. And what makes a buck? Warm fuzzy feelings. What causes warm fuzzy feelings? Why, laughing with your grandma, having a blast with your friends, you know, everything that’s illegal nowadays.

So when I flick through an expensive-looking magazine and I see some ad of a father giving his father’s watch to his son, it annoys me, because patriarchal love is illegal outside those make-belief ads. Similarly, tv commercials of happy families having dinner. Having mom cook family dinner for children past the age of 12 is illegal in 1st world countries, hadn’t you heard?

We are bombarded on a daily base with horrible fakeness.

The problem with the modern world is that in absence of a genuine sense of belonging it turns out we prefer a fake sense of belonging to no sense of belonging. Our brains adapt surprisingly well to the latter, or at least try their utmost best. People rather belong to a tribe that is make-belief than face the realisation that they don’t belong to any tribe at all.

Thus, when most people watch a commercial they want to feel like they are the actress, as opposed to the actress being a complete stranger having nothing whatsoever in common with you. The same goes for really any semi-famous person you watch on tv.

We roleplay above all else, of course while telling ourselves the exact opposite. We are invested in our roleplaying, which gives us a sense of identity, which gives us a sense of belonging. We are dancing monkeys in denial of our nature because truth is cold, rotten and lonely. We are by necessity egotistical as fuck.

So we learn that man but a collection of buttons wired to brain and muscle. Press the right buttons and the right brain centres flare up. Input, output, stimulation, reward. George Orwell and Aldous Huxley were both right, but Huxley was more right than Orwell. Sedation works better than force.

Perhaps also because we live in the era of sedation. We live in the technological zenith of addictive FeelsGood. Gaming, porn, drugs, tv. It’s everywhere. Every man has his drug¹.

Of course the entire point is that some FeelsGood you are allowed to have, some not. You are allowed FeelsGood that pacifies you long-term. You are not allowed FeelsGood that activates you long-term, at least not without keeping it a secret.

For instance, it is possible to have a FeelsGood longterm relationship, but you better keep it a secret that you consider your girl your property. Similarly, it is possible to have a functioning männerbund, but you better not tell anyone you’re more loyal to your boys than to the state. Everything real, everything genuine has to happen in secret or risk open conflict with the powers that be.

Hence, everything public that makes us feel good is fake, controlled opposition. Take the following ad from Apple:

Two things stand out to me. One, the ad follows the fantasy of the übermensch. The Rock lifts weights, flies a plane, presents his own fashion line, cooks with the best chefs, plays mandolin, flies in space and, I’d almost forget, acts in movies. That a man should be able to do every- and anything, or he is no real man, seems to pretty boilerplate these days. Typical false life script, an abuse of the fact that we admire men with energy in abundance.

The second thing is subtler. Do you notice how Dwayne carries himself, how he treats other males? When he gets in an Uber, the owner changes seats so Dwayne gets to drive the car. When he drops into a cockpit, he not only gets to fly the airplane, he gets to decide where it goes. To say that he is alpha in this ad would be an understatement — he is an emperor.

And this, my friends, is how you know it’s controlled opposition: because men are not allowed to behave as such in real life. Dwayne gets to do it, because Dwayne is part of the system that forbids it. He is granted an unprincipled exception to act like an emperor in an advertisement.

Normal white males have pathologically little chance to boss others around. Your wife bosses you around, otherwise you are sexist. In the workplace you simultaneously have a boss and don’t have a boss, because hierarchy does not shake hands with equality. Division of power is done not by competence, but by victim status. You are outranked by your female colleagues, who in turn are outranked by Sylvana Simons, whom no one likes but no one dares to turn away.

All of which is swept under the rug as Corporation INC promises you Love & Purpose if you just buy this latest car (or lease it, because private property is so 20th century!²).

So, burn it all down. Build a parallel universe y’all.

 


¹ As do most females, but for females it’s men and spending money.

² ‘Leasing’ is a horrible word. Call it what it is: renting. Soon enough we’ll be forced to rent everything, including girlfriend and kids.

The Rise and Fall of Owen Cook

For judging any man, I hold two principles:

  1. Does he practice what he preaches?
  2. Is he content with what he practices?

 

I recently watched an Owen Cook video with some friends. It’s been a year since I last discussed RSD. My opinion has not changed.

Gurus like Owen Cook remain fascinating figures. Men seek avatars to learn from and Owen explicitly is such an avatar, especially since he actually talks in front of crowds, as opposed to anonymous writers on the internet who might as well be keyboard-hitting monkeys.

But no one is perfect and sometimes the most ostensibly successful persons are the most fucked up. The greater the rise, the harder the fall. Such it was with Ken Wilber, as documented by Mark Manson (who himself completely sold-out since the days he garnered praise from Nick Krauser. My local bookshop sells Manson’s book ‘the subtle art of not giving a fuck’, yours probably does too).

Anyway. As with Ken Wilber, so it is with Owen. Below his most recent video.

We watched Owen talk for about 20 minutes, when my friend, who used to be pretty big on RSD, paused the video and exclaimed: ‘this is nonsense. He is just bragging and talking nonsense!’ My friend is right. Owen has no coherent message here. What Owen says here is a random collection of stuff he knows his audience expects him to say, and his audience plays along because Owen says what they paid him to say, but any sense of meaning is lost. It is noise, with little to no information.

It wasn’t always like this. Old Owen was better. For instance take the clip below.

Beardless Owen talked sense, had some good concepts. ‘Pinging’ always stuck with me, which refers to your dependance on other people as anchors for reality. Women ping all the time. Arrogant men ping little and if they are forced to ping they often do so irritatingly slowly. The person who pings less has most power.

But the seeds of his failure were already visible in the fruits of his success. Lemme explain.

Tyler’s big thing has always been deconditioning your social conditioning. What is social conditioning? Everything you’ve been taught by society, your parents, your teachers. You are taught to feel depressed, confined and self-hating. You are taught to shut up and keep your head low. In reactionary circles, social conditioning is known as the false life script.

So Owen wanting to end this makes perfect sense. So far, so good.

The problem arises with his proposed replacement. What is his proposed replacement? Well, in a nutshell: not giving a fuck, being your best self. Do what you like, when you like. Be who you like to be.

Which is great advice. For a fortune cookie. See, men need freedom, sure. But men also need direction, purpose. The reason traditions are important is that they provide a place of belonging for men. Just because our current societal rituals are rotten does not mean we can do away with rituals all-together. Need rituals.

What are such rituals? Rituals derived from the acceptance that we are imbued with genetic programming. As a white male this means you want territory, you want power, you want your own female, you want your female to give birth to your children, you want to protect and care for your family and be loved in return. More or less.

Deviation from this path is possible, but you do so at your own risk. The life-long bachelor does not age too well I think. Paraphrasing Spandrell, life-long bachelors have too much idle time on their hands, do silly things. Jim puts it stronger: if a man does not own a woman he becomes horribly broken. I for one think you end up feeling lonely.

How does this relate to Owen Cook? Well, his wife divorced him and took his 2 kids.

This piece of personal information is crucial. It is sad. But it is also strange. Here’s a guy travelling the world telling men how to achieve success with women, yet he could not convince the mother of his children to stay with him.

Owen Cook’s best teachings are as deeply purple-pill you can describe life without going red. He made all the right observations about women. He described social dynamics accurately. He went into the evolutionary background of it all. But he failed to draw the obvious conclusions that everyone who has taken the red pill has. Owen Cook’s genes want him to own a woman, want him to be patriarch of his family, and if the opposite happens, if his woman leaves him and takes away his children, he becomes horribly broken. Which is exactly what happened.

Men need freedom, but men also need chains of family. But men like hearing about freedom more so Owen did exactly that.

It is ironic that the same thing that brought Owen success, namely telling men what they wanted to hear without setting off too many CRIMETHINK alarms, led to his own downfall.

Not that he has literally hit rock bottom, of course. Dude is still richer than I’ll ever be. But a guru always cares more about his reputation than his bank account, and the end of Owen’s reputation has arrived.

Part VII — Life or Death

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Previous


Perv swerved his arm to take aim at Sadiq, but the butch arm of a rainbow soldier knocked the gun out of his hand. As Sadiq and rainbow soldier jumped Perv, Hans and Mike handed out punches to the disbelieving blue-haired goons. Farage pulled Barron down to the ground behind a couch and talked as quick as an Englishman could talk: ‘Young man, judging by the effort our enemies are making to stop you, it is imperative that you obtain the orb of Covfefe. For this you must leave England in one piece.

A gunshot whizzed through the room, followed by the sound of broken glass, some of which Barron felt landing on his back. Barron looked up to see Sadiq Khan running at Perv with a swollen lip and fist raised in the air. Perv evaded the fist and punched Khan in the stomach. Barron turned to Nigel. ‘how do I get out of here? They must have the place surrounded.’
– ‘Yes, it is merely a matter of time before reinforcements arrive. But there is an escape. Follow me.’

They crawled to the back of the room, half-successfully avoiding the scuffling men and shards of glass. The last thing Barron saw before he exited the room was Hans landing a high-kick in the pierced nose of a rainbow warrior, and Perv ripping of his own shirt in a bloodrage, revealing chiseled abs underneath. Once out of the room Nigel and Farage got on their feet and Barron could hear Khan’s voice crying behind him: ‘Don’t let them escape! Get the boy!’ Barron followed Nigel who ran down a small stairway. Behind them Barron heard the sound of someone in pursuit.

Quickly Barron rushed down wooden steps until he found himself in a damp cellar, barely high enough for Nigel to stand upright, let alone Barron. Nigel was hurriedly pushing aside wine bottles and cans of food. ‘Where is it where is it’ he murmured.

Barron in the meanwhile grabbed a wine bottle and pushed himself against the wall behind the stairs. Nigel found what he was looking for: a wooden Santa Clause statue, as large as a hand. He pulled it towards him, and with minor rumbling a hidden door in the stone cellar wall slid open. Grinning, Nigel turned around, only to look straight into the barrel of a gun pointed at him by a very angry looking rainbow warrior. ‘Step away from the door, NOW’ she said. ‘Or else I will…’

It will never be known what she would have done, for at that same moment a green bottle hit her head so hard it broke into pieces, and 170 pounds of blue-haired butchness fell unconscious to the floor. Barron emerged from the shadows, the remainder of the bottle in his hand.

‘Splendid!’ Nigel said. ‘Here, take this.’ He hastily scribbled some notes on a piece of paper and gave it to Barron.

‘Make your escape through the tunnel. You will emerge safely at the other end. Get to Dover as quick as possible. Call the number on this paper, say I sent you. Now go quickly!’

Barron nodded and with bent head entered the low, dark tunnel. Before he disappeared, he turned around and faced Nigel Farage one last time. ‘Thank you’, he said. Farage’s eyes watered up. ‘Thank you, young Barron. Bless your father. Godspeed to your mission, the world depends on you!’ Nigel pushed the Santa Clause figurine back in its original space, and with the closing of the door darkness engulfed Barron.

 


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