In the comments of my previous post Dalrock asks some questions that highlight a clear distinction between myself and most of the rest of the Manosphere, and the majority of the Western world. I had wrote:

Should we blame mental/spiritual sickness on intrinsic womanhood? No, but that’s what the idea of the Feminine Imperative does. It’s the equivalent of blaming war on manhood.

To which he replied:

I don’t think “blame” is an accurate word to describe Rollo’s view. This is actually an area where I disagree with him. Rollo is very careful to avoid value judgments, especially when he is describing the actions of women. Beyond this, your argument resembles the feminist denial of nature in the nature vs nurture debate. Are you arguing that there is nothing intrinsic to womanhood (in general). Or are you arguing that there is nothing intrinsic to womanhood which when unchecked can produce bad (or even catastrophic) results?

As the paragraph goes on, Dalrock does the same thing I do: He digs through my statements to unearth the principle lying below; the frame of the argument. Another way to say that is he is discerning the nature of my argument.

1) Blame is the right word. It’s called the “Feminine Imperative”. The title (to which I obviously disagree, but I’m trying to not lose anybody in the argument) lays the blame directly at the feet of women, womanly behavior, and those who work with with. Rollo may claim that this is not blame, but it can be no other way. At best, it’s confused to call something “feminine” and not “blame” it on women.

In that same vein: We should be judging and assessing value. Aside from the (hopefully) common sense perspective that good is better than bad, and that profitable is better than unprofitable–we are Christians. We are followers of the son of the One True God, Creator of all, and we are made in His image. What does He do? He makes things, and then He judges them. “This is good”. “Depart from Me, you who practice lawlessness.” Lawlessness…lacking judgment…lacking value assessment.

Christ goes further in the Sermon on the Mount. He says:

¹⁶ “And when you fast, do not look gloomy like the hypocrites, for they disfigure their faces that their fasting may be seen by others. Truly, I say to you, they have received their reward. ¹⁷ But when you fast, anoint your head and wash your face, ¹⁸ that your fasting may not be seen by others but by your Father who is in secret. And your Father who sees in secret will reward you.

¹⁹ “Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, ²⁰ but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. ²¹ For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.

²² “The eye is the lamp of the body. So, if your eye is healthy, your whole body will be full of light, ²³ but if your eye is bad, your whole body will be full of darkness. If then the light in you is darkness, how great is the darkness!

²⁴ “No one can serve two masters, for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and money.

In my thoughts, I keep coming back to this passage in my refutations of the desirableness of Game (as based on Dark Triad traits, or the 16 Commandments of Poon; both of which dovetail smoothly with the precepts of the Feminine Imperative as most specifically laid out.), but for right now I just want to look at the bolded part. Whatever we do not give value to is worthless. Whatever value we blind ourselves to–in a misguided attempt to be impartial or inclusive–is filling ourselves with emptiness…nothing…darkness–because the light is empty, valueless, and know-nothing. We should be extraordinarily careful in rendering judgment, but to refuse to value is as bad as valuing improperly, i.e., to choose evil over good. How we should value things could be another very long post, or it can be summed up as: value as God values, and not as the world does. No man can server two masters.

2) Nature-vs.-nurture debates are usually nothing of the sort. They’re almost always nature-vs.-nature arguments, with each side choosing to emphasize or detract from various natural components.

For example: Egalitarians almost always consider themselves nurture-over-nature; that the “environment” (peer-group, parents, education, etc.) around a person can override or overcome a person’s “natural” tendencies, strengths and weaknesses. First, humans are inherently social creatures. Environments are completely natural phenomenon, and part of the person’s make-up. It’s not extra-personal. Lots to be said here, but I’ll move on.

More importantly: Egalitarians are trying to bring cognizant and demonstrable equality to things that are nature-ally very similar already. Both men and women are human. They can mate. They have extraordinarily similar sets of organs, motivations, and environments. In turn, apes aren’t far off. In fact you have to drill down a few levels into the secular scientists’ animal kingdom before you hit truly different classes of creatures. What egalitarians say to themselves is “This woman-thing has a head and a brain and a heart just as man-things do. They can both learn and speak and read and do all the same sorts of things. There are really only minor natural differences. Therefore: we ought to see them as equals.” It’s not an argument based on nurturing at all!

The Judeo-Christian paradigm is very nurture-over-nature.

“Train up a child in the way he should go;
even when he is old he will not depart from it.”

“Now therefore fear the Lord and serve him in sincerity and in faithfulness. Put away the gods that your fathers served beyond the River and in Egypt, and serve the Lord.And if it is evil in your eyes to serve the Lord, choose this day whom you will serve, whether the gods your fathers served in the region beyond the River, or the gods of the Amorites in whose land you dwell. But as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.”

“And to Adam he said,

One day I’ll go back to posts under 2,000 words.

But I still didn’t really have an answer to what I should be writing because I was still having trouble understanding what in the world everyone else is talking about. I see the problems, and I understand enough of what others are describing to recognize that I can draw an outline of that description; enough to understand that we’re seeing the same phenomenon.

Then they start adding detail to their descriptions, and it’s just…not what I’m seeing. What begins as an artistic description of the universe changes form. It becomes philosophy, and they start talking about how matter is arranged the way it is because while we can sense four dimensions there are at least seven more.

And I say, “Wait a minute! You’re not describing what you see anymore, but what makes sense to you as a cause of what you see.” At best it’s like blind people trying to see by learning about photons. Much more often it’s a whole lot worse: It’s the theory of speciation by natural selection (less data spontaneously becoming more  [and new!] data. Huh?), or the postulation of infinite universes (among which must be a universe that is a singular universe. Poof!).

Let me give you some Manosphere examples:

• The Feminine Imperative (and the now-comorbid Masculine Imperative)
• Evolutionary Psychology
• The Red Pill
• Rabbitholes
• Game

Tonight I’m going to write about the first one. From Dalrock’s blog*, he discusses what a man’s version of a story about “natural insemination”, i.e., arranged hookups for the sake of causing pregnancy. The framing and language of the article is certainly from a female perspective–what is called the Feminine Imperative–and so it follows (according to this paradigm of thought) that this is a calculated move by women to further enhance an already female-centric society.

If you protest that it’s too big and ill-considered to be calculated, they continue right on that it’s not calculated (as if they hadn’t just said it was a plan) that it’s just the Feminine Imperative at work. It’s the spontaneous combustion and re-combination of swirling fem-zymes and radical iso-tropes into what is obviously a new super-predator that feeds on men!

Really? Is it anyone’s experience that women desire (by volition) or need (naturally-occurring) more impediments to a one night stand with the male of their choosing? Because that’s what this is. “Natural insemination” is the addition of bureaucracy to the hook-up culture. That doesn’t strike me as female-centric at all. It strikes me as downright idiotic. If there’s one sort of positive, hooray-for-freedom thing we could say about the hookup culture it’s that it is free from oversight or obligation…that’s the appeal of it.

It’s also the problem with it, and up until this point it’s been one of very few defining and uniting criminal charges the Neo-Reactionaries bring against our feminized culture. This very lack of obligation in the hookup culture is blamed on women’s choices, or capitulation to them: no-fault divorce; abortion-on-demand; the Pill; delayed marriage… And I agree with the list. That’s what makes the decision to link natural insemination to the Feminine Imperative such nonsense. Even further: It (again) shows that the idea of the Feminine Imperative itself is nonsense. That means formalized natural insemination services are not a product of imperatives, but of insanity; of dis-order. It’s the result of widespread mental illness. We’ll come back to this, but is it not stated over and over that regulation, responsibility, organization–the traits of civilization–are the MALE domain? I wouldn’t be surprised to find out this is a ploy by men to create a stage upon which they can control the socio-sexual environment. If you’re a smart male 6, it’s a great idea to stock an inventory of “available” 3′s, 4′s, and 5′s to be compared against. Appeal is relative, remember?

So, what is this Feminine Imperative?

Novaseeker said:

“Rollo’s idea (he was the first to use the phrase [ed: Feminine Imperative], I think) is that it isn’t the genetic-based component of people’s individual motivations, but rather the construction of social, cultural, societal, legal, etc. norms, mores and rules concerning the interactions between the sexes, around the interests of one or the other sex to one degree or other.”

As far as I know it was Rollo, and indeed it was based in genetics/biological determinism. He predicated a good deal of it on the notion that eggs are expensive and sperm is cheap; combined with the social customs, climate, cues, etc. of the last couple centuries, and spiced with notorious acts of feminine vandalism against creation from throughout history. He further stated that there was in fact a biological basis for women’s natural cooperation. Specifically, that women are biologically hard-wired to work together to include or ostracize those who do or do not fit the group’s specifications. I would link to some place where he lays this out explicitly, but as far as I know there is no one place.

Since then the definition of the Feminine Imperative has morphed so that it means whatever behavior women do, or have done. Look at Novaseeker’s definition above: What in Hell does that mean? It could mean anything; even preference for men’s preferences. It truly would be just as helpful to say what our grandfather’s did: “Women’s Ways”. Except inventing new terms really appeals to exactly the STEM/DnD/nerd sort of guy who finds the Manosphere and looks to it for answers. This exasperates me because there are answers to be found here…but there’s so much bullshit, too. The answers aren’t in the definitions, but because they keep piling them on, you must first become an etymologist before you can learn to become manly. Being a man (the broadest and most benign definition forwarded for Game) is an art; not a science. There’s way too much time spent on critique, and not enough actually drawing circles. Consequently, the Mansophere is churning out art critics, and very few artists.

Art critics brings us back to the widespread mental illness because art critics are so often posers who couldn’t find enough appreciation among others for their own art. You know who likes to pose? Narcissists. Do you know what sort of people like to compartmentalize everyone and everything else? Narcissists. They’ll protest it’s some sort of science, of codification to enhance learning…but read what they have to contribute. It’s not the possible science they’re interested in so much as accessorizing their image of themselves. It’s life as set design and casting call.

Some of you want to say something like, “Well, Cane, actually the narcissist is the one who likes to boss others around. He likes to tell everyone what to do, and he thinks he’s the best.” No, not really. A narcissist is someone who can only really appreciate their own view. In their minds, only their existence and experience really matters.

• You’re my funny friend.
• You’re the strong friend.
• You’re the slut friend.
• He’s a beta
• He’s an omega
• He’s an alpha

You know the girl who self-identifies as the quiet one, and takes pains to let you know she’s not judging your behavior? Yeah, she’s a narcissist. What’s important to her is that everyone else (i.e., her audience) recognizes that she is “The Quiet One”, and that you know her manner is “Not Judging”. That narcissism enables the “lack of judgment” (i.e., lack of meaningful concern for others) about others because no one else matters to her but her. Since they don’t matter and yet they persist the narcissist copes by making them a prop; by directing them where to stand in the narcissists mind.

Here’s another example: A woman will rarely describe herself as a slut unless she actually calls herself a slut. “Well, duh!”, you say. No, hold on. Sluts are defined by their behavior. If it’s a woman, and she puts out to others for pleasure without obligation (marriage)–by definition she’s being a slut, right? Steph, a narcissistic woman looks at her friend Jenny, who goes from boyfriend to boyfriend, and interspersed that (just a couple times) with drunken one night stands (“learning experiences/mistakes”). Steph admits that Jenny is…sort of a slut. She puts Jenny in the slut box.

What Steph’s friends know is that Steph–though recently married in a beautiful and moving celebration of romance and flowers and dresses and Steph–went through the exact same “empowering journey of self-discovery” as Jenny! But, see, Jenny is already in the slut box, so there’s no room for Steph in there because Steph requires her own space. Anyway, in Steph’s mind it’s Steph’s show and Steph doesn’t want to be in the slut box. So she’s not. Steph and Jenny’s friends accept this because they’re ALL narcissists, and in each of their minds it is Jenny in the slut box, but Steph is not. It’s entirely likely that Jenny accepts this herself, and revels in being the slut friend. That’s how this group of women got to be friends: They each had their own box. There was no competition for space; leaving them all able to be the star of their own internal show.

If Jenny repents of her ways, they’ll have to kick Jenny out of the group (slowly, and with lots lying, flaking, and backbiting) because Jenny will screw up the program by getting out of her box. That will raise the question: “NOW who’s going to be the slut?” Because it sure as Hell isn’t going to be the other friends. Often times, whole groups will disintegrate once the integrity of the boxes has been compromised by change in one person’s life.

That’s what the Feminine Imperative is. It’s a Manosphere variant of the “slut box” concept. It’s one of many ill-defined but infinitely useful coping mechanisms in the Manospherian narcissist’s arsenal to deal with the narcissism of women. That arsenal is called Game. I’ll write about that later. For now, aside from online discussions about socio-sexual relations, reflect on how people identify themselves in other discussions; by the movies they merely watch; the type of music they merely listen to; the type of games they play. It’s about what they consume. It used to be about who was your father. That’s hard to do when the fathers aren’t around, or aren’t fathering. Narcissism is the secret sauce in corporate marketing, so they promote doofus fathers and empowered mothers to make sure there is always a new crop of loyal consumers. Those marketing reps may not even know this is how it works. In all likelihood, their own narcissism blinds them to the process. They are the stars of their own marketing shows, and they know that there are several dimensions of the human universe we can’t even detect. Besides: You’re in the idiot box; not them.

What’s more: A lack of meaningful concern for anyone else is incompatible with an over-arching imperative. Imperatives–even those oriented outward–make it very difficult for a narcissist to maintain a personal space where they are the star of their own show.

You might say: “Ok then, smart guy: What is this phenomenon of women gathering around each other for protection?” Well people–and especially women–are sheep. When sheep are frightened they head for the safety of the middle of the flock. So what appears to be huddling around each other is actually sheep hoping the threat is sated by those on the fringe of the group. It’s the swarming of individual selfishness. Will they admit that? Of course not. No selfish-unto-narcissistic person will confess she is willing to sacrifice others for her own safety. Those folks are in the selfish box, and she’s clearly in the caring-star box. We should know she’s caring, she’d say, because why else would everyone be orbiting her?

In closing: Historically men are more likely to be narcissists, and women are more likely to be borderline. As we continue on in this grand experiment of personal freedom, lack of accountability, and gender neutrality I think it will only be natural to see more role-reversal trends. Individually, I would expect to see younger men more narcissistic, and older men crumble into borderline. Meanwhile, young women as borderline until they get to be about 30; at which point they molt into narcissists. This would explain why a 35 years old megastar rapper with his choice of women would stoop to impregnate a twice-divorced 32 years old celebrity (most known for making a sex tape with another man) while she’s still married to another man.

*To be fair to Dalrock, he is as ecumenical as they come. This post is not meant to disparage him in any way. The point of his post is not that the Masculine Imperative or Feminine Imperative are real things that should be defined exactly as others have defined him, but that–using the MI and FI as signposts–to point out the obvious and omnipresent feminine frame of reference of all discussion in the media, and society-at-large.

While I was gone, I thought a lot about nerds and cool kids, and attraction; about what it means to be “in” in someone else’s mind. A good deal of that time was spent reflecting on school days long past. One thing that I realized was that my place in that “in” space–popular–hasn’t changed very much; not at work or anywhere else. I’m still the kid who merits interest or respect, but isn’t popular. If I show up at a party people think that speaks well of the person throwing the party, but they don’t take a particular liking to me.

From first grade to high school graduation I attended eight different schools. Each of those were in different districts, if not cities and states. (I never matriculated from one school to the next, so those mundane changes in schools don’t factor into my whirlwind tour of public…ah…education.) That pressure of being the perpetual new kid molded me to prefer gaining acceptance by working rather than networking because it’s a helluva lot easier to demonstrate competence during one school year, than it is to ingratiate yourself with the cool kids–or even the nerdy kids. Besides, why bother when another move is imminent?

Clothes, attitudes, hang-outs, etc. are things you can choose (Game), and they can make you cool; which is to say “to exist within acceptable social boundaries”. Within those outer social boundaries is the popular–attractive–group. Only others can make you popular or respected. It’s a truth that cool kids are more often liked (than are nerds) but they are separate things and you get no say in the matter other than how you present yourself. They don’t even know who you are; only that you’re not them. We don’t get to choose to be liked (attractive) to others, but you can move yourself into within those boundaries by avoiding conspicuously anti-social behavior.I mean anti-social in the sense of not meeting the minimum requirements of polite behavior.

So, dress your behavior for success.

The demonstration (presentation) of good work won’t make you popular, but it is hard to beat when it comes to earning respect. You can dislike the new kid who starts offense and defense, but you can’t ignore him. The coaches favorite isn’t going to like it when he loses a rotation on the pitching mound to the new guy, but if we win, what is he going to say? When the history teacher says,

“Take your notes, Johnny.”

“That’s not fair, Mr. History. Cane never takes notes.”

“Cane gets 100 on every test. You don’t.”

That’s not going to win you a lot of friends, but it does tend to elevate your status regardless of their feelings. The cool kids who were accomplished tended to appreciate my talents, and therefore me. They already had all the affirmation they needed, so they weren’t concerned if I didn’t offer more. It’s the normal kids that struggled year after year, and game after class who tended to resent me. That’s still how I operate: “Regardless of others’ feelings.” Not because I think they’re unimportant, but because there is nothing I can do about them, and no time even if I did. “The end is near”, warns the Book. That goes for all things.

So, dress your work for success, now.

Plenty of people are less than thrilled about spending their careers with me, but they feel better that I’m there. They assume we’re going to “win” now–and with very few exceptions we usually do. Still… I have these conversations with average co-workers; like last week, just before boarding a plane.

“…I think he’s a nice guy.”

“Nice guy? What an awful thing to say.”

“No it’s not! It means-”

“I know what it means. It means you find him pleasing, or should find him pleasing; because he’s non-threatening.”

“Well…yeah.”

“That’s a horrible place to be stranded, socially. I hope no one says that about me.”

“I don’t think there’s any danger of that, Cane.”

His tone was less than salutatory, because he could suss out what I was saying: “I don’t care if you find me pleasing or not.” What a rude thing to say! Except it’s not. Only assholes go around thinking, “People should please me, and if they can’t they should try to make me think they are.” The stuffiness he detected was the feel of his own sphincter tightening on his neck. A lot of people are so constricted.

My father was the one constant person that I tried to please, and, still, when I need to do something that I don’t feel like doing I’m very likely to utter a proverb of his before I engage in whatever thing it is that I don’t want to do: fire someone (Mess with the bull, you get the horns.) get up early (If you hoot with the owls, then you scream with the eagles.), admit and fix a mistake (If you’re gonna be stupid, you gotta be tough.). My appreciation of work is his appreciation of work. Those two concepts are inseparable in my mind, and just like when I was a child they are all I try to please. Between childhood and some years ago, I tried to please my wife, and when that didn’t work I tried to please myself. That went as badly as trying to please her. When things became clear was when I said to us, “I don’t care what you or I want: This is where we’re going because this is where my father** told me we are supposed to go. If you want to follow me, get in line.”

When I look around the Manosphere, he and his kind are what I don’t notice. The absence of dads is palpable in the comments, and in the posts that generate the comments. Even if they are physically there, they’re undercut by the culture (their wives and the law), and they are unsupported (because there are few of their kind). Stalks in a field can resist the wind better than one can alone. We all suffer because our friends and neighbors dads are missing. No earthly father is perfect, and we learn from other fathers as well as our own…when we can find them, and when they still act like men.

My son, Gus, misses me more than his sisters do, when I’m gone. He’s five, and asks Mrs. Caldo about it like five-year olds do; not stupidly repetitious, but prodding to see if Mom’s story is consistent. Does she really know what’s going on, and is she telling the truth? He’s concerned because he really feels like I ought to be home a lot sooner than ten days, eight days, six days, five days, four days…

Because Mrs. Caldo misses me like he does, she told me a story about Gus and Liz. She said Gus was laying on the floor, using our old boxer Clives as a pillow, and petting him. Liz said, in that girly innocence that strikes boys as obvious and condescending, but is meant as an attempt to connect:

“Do you like Clives, Gus?”

“Yeah, he’s awesome. You know, like Dad’s awesome.”

It’s self-evident to him, and my dad’s greatness was self-evident to me, too. “I’m disappointed in you, son.” was a grievous thing for me to hear as a boy, and often started me sobbing. That separation from his goodness was worse than a whipping, which I would happily have taken if it would close the distance.

After the conversation with the co-worker, we boarded the plane and I tried to sleep. I could only manage about an hour of it. When I woke up, I put on my headphones, and listened to Mumford and Sons latest album. The third song, “I Will Wait” is a radio hit…which is quite a shock, to me. The first verse is the singer speaking to his wife:

And I came home
Like a stone
And I fell heavy into your arms
These days of darkness
Which we’ve known
Will blow away with this new sun

That’s refreshing in the pop music world, but common enough not to warrant scrutiny. But starting with the following chorus through to the end of the song, the singer is addressing the new sun.

But I’ll kneel down
Wait for now
I’ll kneel down
Know my ground

Raise my hands
Paint my spirit gold
And bow my head
Keep my heart slow

Cause I will wait, I will wait for you

My hunch is that nearly everyone hears something else. They take this as a song about a man relying and waiting on his woman. Only the artist can say definitively, but I can’t hear it. He’s clearly relieved to see his wife, and to let her support him, but his desire is for the one who forgives; who tethers minds free from lies, and paints spirits gold.

So there I was: 30,000 feet in the air, hurtling through space and time zones. Everyone around me was corded up to their seats and watching the in-flight movie while I mouthed the words to a pop song and cried. There are precious few persons in our lives worth such emotional outbursts. If they are concerned whether we–individually–are cool or attractive: they’re not one of them. Wives should not be critical of their husbands’ attractiveness, but if they are, then they are. Do not spend on them. Remember: It’s what you do that matters. Nobody cares what you feel, or who you are because they can never really feel or know you anyway. Even you don’t know who you are; except that you are not another.

So, dress your heart for success, now. In other words: Slow your roll, playa.

*A difficult example of this is virginity. In our libertine times, virginity is anti-social. The best response is something like, “It’s complicated”, or, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

**Sadly he did not go there himself, but that’s his problem to work out.

Today I took a circuit of the project site with a saleswoman. She’s an aging careerist; married but no kids, attractive for her age, and quite non-technical. Neither does she possess an ounce of bitterness, so she’s a joy to work with. She heavily relies on me, and makes no bones about it–which is refreshing because some of the salesmen who posture as technical know-it-alls can make my job pretty difficult.

She’s also a bit of a fitness freak, and so when we had to choose between three flights of stairs or the escalator she said, “Let’s take the stairs! I have to get my steps in!”

“Are you serious? I get winded on the elevator.”

“Oh come on. You’ve been working out.”

“Oh, yes. Two whole days. And I’m sore.”

She beamed a smile, and we started up the stairs. I’m a tall fellow, and these stairs–like most I encounter–are half a size too small, so I take take them two at a time. She’s Miss Peppy Stairmaster, so she pranced up pretty quickly behind me. We weren’t racing, but when we got to the top, I said (between thinly veiled gasps), “Look, I’m fine taking the stairs as long as I win. Which I’m going to. So, you know, you might as well get used to losing.”

She laughed and said, “Well, I was right earlier, and you were wrong, so this makes up for it.”

“Why you gotta bring up old stuff?”

“That’s not old-”

“Yes it is. Now: let’s talk about me winning again.”

She laughed again. “You’re so competitive. My husband is too.”

“Of course. That’s how our ancestor survived.”

“Ok, well, I don’t have to race you then.”

“Good, because it would be awkward explaining to HR why I tackled you on a staircase.”

Not too long later we came to another set of stairs and as soon as I opened my mouth to make a joke she bolted her Fit-Bug-wearing stretchy-pants butt up those steps. I had no choice but to bound after her, and only just barely beat her to the top. We were both laughing and gasping.

“I thought we weren’t racing?”, I struggled to say.

“Yes, I know!”

“You’re a tricky dame.”

“Yes, I am!”

Even though she is by far the more fit between the two of us, we were both happy that I won. It never occurred to her that she should win; only that it wouldn’t be any fun if she didn’t try. She was much more interested in the race itself, than in the winning. For her it was a thing to do together. Almost coincidentally does someone reach the top first. Meanwhile, I’m trying to avoid a minor crisis of manhood.

…

Besides, nerdy teen girls who are at least a little bit cute have never had it as bad as nerdy teenage boys, have they?

If you want to talk about a girl who is insecure and shy, and maybe she is into anime or j-pop–you have to say “nerdy girl”. There are a lot of problems that can go with being a nerdy girl, but that’s not really what I want to talk about.

To reference a wide spectrum of socially awkward or peculiar boy with quirky habits: You just say “nerd”. There’s no need to append a language unit denoting the owners genitalia. Why bother? Who wants to use them?

Let’s make this shorter. Nerdy girls are really:

(nerdy) GIRLS.

Nerdy boys are:

NERDS.

They are the thing–the horror itself–that a (nerdy) girl can sort-of, kind-of resemble. There is an earnestness of intent to boys that is usually not manifested in girls. Girls like sci-fi because others like sci-fi; boys like it despite the fact others don’t. Girls watch anime because a father, older sibling, or friends watch anime, and they want to talk about anime with them. They do like anime in and of itself, and left alone would still watch it, but it doesn’t define them as a person to the extent that they build their wardrobe around it, and resent any intrusion into their anime space. A nerdy girl will get excited to see someone else read her favorite comic, and can base a friendship off of it.

A nerdy boy is more likely to feel threatened, thinking: “Who told him about my secret favorite comic? I doubt he even knows why it’s good.” If he has any desire to interact at all, some of that urge will be to test whether the other fellow is worthy to aspire to such secret delights. Should two nerds meet over a sci-fi movie or a Civil War re-enactment they will test each others’ knowledge of the fictitious universe, or discernment of 1863 flannels from the “clearly different” 1864 version.*

The Nerd wants to win at reading comic-books.

Which is to desire the comic so much that he fundamentally misses the point of them. Even nerdy girls are going to see this as a sort of sickness because applying alpha competitiveness to things that are clearly nerdiful is just strange to the rest of society. It’s going to come across as desperate; maybe even perverse. He will seem like a person who fundamentally misses the point not only of sci-fi movies, but people. You simply don’t risk this while racing chicks up the stairs. The earnestness is just as misplaced, but the social acceptance covers it up. Even better if you can be self-deprecating or agree-and-amplify the ridiculousness unto the absurd…which it is.

This comes more clearly into focus when you call a boy a nerd. It is this concept of fundamentally misunderstanding people to which we hearken when we call boys nerds, or geeks, or similar pejoratives. In the instances when we apply the name to women it is almost always in the “nerdy girl” sense that still recognizes her humanity. At the very least they have breasts and butts and all sorts of goodies with which to remind me. A girl may walk up to me as a nerd, but she almost always walks away as an ass.

That’s a much better fate than the boy who turns invisible.

*Completely made up reference. I couldn’t even say if flannel existed then.

“Yes.”

“Cane, that’s you.”

Which I thought was ludicrous, but I’ve since discovered that she knew better than me. As strange as that was: Before today no woman has attempted to judge my attractiveness on a scale that slides from Batman to Anakin Skywalker, as happened in this thread.* That lead to an epiphany: The link between the Manosphere, the Orthosphere, the Gamesphere, and all these other little corporations of the Internet is that most of the folks within them can get along and foster relationships because they each suffer from gruesome and potentially terminal cases of nerd-itis; male and female alike.

r u srs?

Even more bizarre: Some dudes got envious about it.

y u jelly bro?

By the nature of the conversation, and the nature of nerds, this has to sound awfully rude. I’d say about as rude as those cool-kid text-speak phrases above sound dumb, to me. I don’t mean it to be, but as we repeat: No one is a special snowflake. The cool kids accepted these things about themselves a long time ago, and then they set out to crush the bits within themselves that offended the cool. Nerds want to be celebrated for not doing so. That makes nerds profoundly stupid, and snowflakish. If you don’t want to be a nerd: Stop it. You don’t have to sell your collections, but stop showing the nerdilicious goods to the uninitiated.

My old friend–who was not a nerd in high school–strikes me as more Beta everyday. His most frequent correspondences to me are links to goofy Star Wars tee shirts, and Dungeons and Dragons-based puns…which I ignore, that my modesty might spare us both the shame. He never gets the hint, and it weighs on me because I’d really like to enjoy my friend’s jokes, but it seems cruel to laugh as he makes himself a vestigial member of his family.

“Pardon me,” Cane said, “if I don’t chortle as you sink into sexual obsolescence before your wife’s very eyes.”

In summary: It would have been a lot easier for me to have a six-month conversation about cool kids vs. nerds than alphas vs. betas. I see why people like Dalrock have not let me off the hook. He’s a smart dude. I don’t know if I’m the guy to explain this, though.

*Funny, but with some very strange twists in it.

Daughters are peculiar. They come about the same way as sons, but when they marry they go through an alchemical process that abjures the daughter (in solicitate of gold) and evokes a wife. It’s magic. And the weirdness continues! Even though the wife follows the husband (because the husband is the head), the husband has joined to the wife–and that means becoming part of her family. Any man who has tried to move his wife across country from her family knows what I’m talking about.

There’s a sort of justification by adoption that occurs. “You wish to take my daughter? Very well: I want a son in return. Oh, there’s only you…well, I guess it will have to be you, then.” Looking on from a distance, and if we had the numinous sight to see the bursts and whorls of magic taking place in a marriage, it would look very much like a man submitting his daughter to a ritual by which she is turned into a much more capable son–a son who can produce more sons and wives.

Additionally, there are two times of real celebration which are remarkably in not keeping with the modern times, and yet irrepressible: marriage, and when a son is born. I was honestly shocked at how much more exuberant everyone was when my son was born. We had three daughters already, but a son is simply celebrated more; which strongly indicates he is valued more–contrary to everything we have been taught, or even might experience when they come of age. More is expected of them. More is expected of wives, too.

A foolish son is ruin to his father,
and a wife’s quarreling is a continual dripping of rain.

House and wealth are inherited from fathers,
but a prudent wife is from the Lord.

Wives can make a man’s house heaven or hell because we expect more of them. Daughters, we hope, can at least be married off so they become some other man’s primary concern…we’ll still see her at Sunday dinners.

So, if you have a wife and she’s not prudent, you can know she’s not of the Lord. What are you going to do about this?

Hypergamy is the female desire for a better man. Koreogamy is the male desire for another woman. Polygyny is what we get when these forces meet. Monogamy is the standard Christians have been given.

Christianity calls us to the Truth, as Christ is the Truth. So how do we reconcile these seemingly un-Christian concepts with the very Christian concept of monogamous marriage? “What is impossible with men is possible with God.”

So watch this…

If you are a Christian, that means to be in Christ, and He in you. To be in Christ means to be part of an eternal, ever-new being; the Alpha and the Omega. Who He is today he will be tomorrow, but He will be greater than He was before. You, Christian, are therefore a new creation in Christ; more Him today than you were yesterday; less you today than you will be tomorrow; ever-new, ever-you, as you were meant to be.

If you are married, that means for a man to leave his mother and father and cleave to his wife. She becomes his body, and he becomes her head. The two become one. Together, in Christian marriage, they are a new creation in Christ. The husband who love his wife, and is respected by her, becomes more Christ-like, renewed and transformed to be more like Christ, more like himself. The wife who respects her husband, and is loved by him becomes more Christ-like, renewed and transformed to be more like Christ, more like herself.

The woman a man marries today is not the woman he will be married to tomorrow, and the man a woman marries, likewise. Through this sanctification process of leading and encouraging each other to be new and more Christ-like; she gets a new and better husband; stronger, wiser, and braver than she had yesterday.  The husband wakes up with a different wife than he went to sleep with. She is more beautiful in his sight, more elegant, and graceful than the woman he married.

Oneitis is the only reconciliation of these truths. Bite once, and bite deeply.

The illusion with this is that it’s very easy to start thinking that because someone agrees with you, and you agree with them, that you’re right. The reality is that very often you’re simply agreeable to each other; you like each other. This is how liberals get stuck thinking their views are correct, because it is a human problem. It is also how one corrupts another; agreeing and amplifying each other until the Tea Partiers are standing out there with signs that say “Keep Government out of Medicare”, or a wife comes home from one too many Girls’ Night Outs and announces that she’s not happy.

The fact that someone likes me, or I like them, or I agree with them, or they with me has very little bearing on how I should interact with them, and no bearing whatsoever on whether they are right. Do they agree with God? That is the question you have to answer to say whether a person is right. Which is about much more than whether they pay lip service to God, or quote scripture…whether I like it or not.

It’s not enough to write or visit or comment on the blogs of self-professed Christians if what we say there is not consistent with Christianity; whether by wrong orthodoxy or devious orthopraxy. Of the two the second is much worse. So, what are you doing there, on those blogs?

Before you answer that question, ask yourself, “Am I the kind of guy who likes to impose my frame on others through force of personality, or am I the type of guy who tries to endear myself to people by showing that I’m compatible with them? Be honest because this will tell you not only what you’re doing there, but how you’ll be perceived by others–especially women. They have much more training and inclination to social forces than most men, and will sniff you out before even you know what you’ve implied. If you’re that second guy you are at a huge disadvantage in the amplify and agree game, and you will get turned around by someone; either the women, or the first guy. Because I think you’ll understand me better, I will refer to the first guys as Alphas and latter as Betas, and consider the whole thing a Game.

Each comes with a particular set of dangers for the man who would do right. The Alpha can cause needless divisions among otherwise agreeable people, thoughtlessly seduce women, and corrupt men. Betas are at risk of being corrupted, envy, and malice towards women in general.

More that though: the Beta is at risk of continuing to be a Beta. It is foolish for a man to believe that a woman (who is not his wife and with whom he agrees) is on his side. She is either in total rebellion, simply surviving in the midst of the herd, or a follower of someone else. If a man finds himself thinking he’s on the same side of things, what he’s really noticing is that he is in enough agreement with her leader, or her current social group that she keeps him around. (The Alpha runs the risk of usurpation of her rightful leader.) He is a Beta orbiter. If a man spends enough time in the women’s quarters (and he’s not banging the women, in which case he would be a prostitute) at some point he stops being a visitors, and he has become a well-behaved social eunuch.

Except he’s not going to like being made a eunuch, and at some point he’s going to have had enough–which is when the Beta is going to have a Beta explosion, and say some shit about being ready to divorce with Go Bags; how all women will ultimately betray all men; how they are all waiting to do evil to all good men (as Betas believe themselves to be) and good to evil men (as all Betas believe Alphas to be)–evil men the Beta wants to codify and learn from.

In other words: The Whispers get to the Beta, and he gets corrupted into not only accepting the Alpha fucks and Beta bucks paradigm as a truth about the nature of sin, but into reacting like the sort of woman that exemplifies the paradigm he so detests. He becomes a man who hates what he wants, and wants what he hates.

¹³ Did that which is good, then, bring death to me? By no means! It was sin, producing death in me through what is good, in order that sin might be shown to be sin, and through the commandment might become sinful beyond measure. ¹⁴ For we know that the law is spiritual, but I am of the flesh, sold under sin. ¹⁵ For I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. ¹⁶ Now if I do what I do not want, I agree with the law, that it is good. ¹⁷ So now it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me. ¹⁸ For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh. For I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out. ¹⁹ For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing. ²⁰ Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me.

It becomes a sort of intellectual cuckoldry** for the Beta to wish to be the man that the sin nature of his wife wants to spend time with; he has gone too far and accepted what he should not. Adultery and cuckoldry are such noxious a sins because they are the very picture of the idolatry shown in Genesis 3: the consumption and bearing of disordered fruit from an illegitimate authority.

Our Lord truly is Lord of all, including evil. He can take even that and have good come from it. If we are His servants we should do likewise. Sometimes that means making sons and daughters of cuckoos (as has been done for all who were born in sin but now live in Christ), and sometimes that means not putting yourself or others in a position to create more of them. Say, by spouting foolishness on a blog (because you wanted to connect with, impress upon, or deride a woman) for the sake of what you happen to like, or agree with. (By the way: I’m still not talking about sex, per se.)

Some men are so worried about being betrayed in their home life, that they get online to practice for it. Some women are crying out to help them. Nearly none of them will realize who is who until it’s too late. This is especially true of Christians, just as it was more true of the Jews in the Old Testament. We should not be ignorant. Know the truth, repent, and be transformed before the harvest. The scythes are coming.

* “I don’t know half of you half as well as I should like; and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve.”

** To some that term is going to sound too harsh, and it will lead them astray by thinking I’m making a mountain out of a molehill.  In reality, cuckoldry is one of many similar disorders that is caused by sin in sexual relations. Bastardy is obviously related, as is adultery, and fornication, incest, homosexuality, bestiality…the whole of Leviticus 18. All these terms describe disordered relations of people, and one is not much better than another. And they are related. It matters that immediately following in Leviticus 19 is concerned with keeping sacrifices (our actions) to the Lord holy, and to love our neighbors, and treat them fairly. The transgressions of these are the very things that lead to the wreckage we read of in Hosea; a wreckage that looks horrifyingly similar to the Church in Western Civilization. We can be in agreement and like each other all we want. If we do not make submission to the legitimate Authority first and foremost: we’re going to live abominable lives.

The reverse is not true.