Lust in the Age of Asperger’s

I’m nobody’s idea of a coxswain*, but even I know this ain’t how you do it (link via Vox Day’s site Alpha Game).

In case you don’t want to read a lot of Millennial gamma male whining, the tl;dr is “engineering student tries to get laid by pretending he’s all about the girls in STEM (but in a supportive, feminist way); fails miserably.”

Again, I’m no mack daddy, but it seems like any halfway attractive girl in STEM can write her own ticket.  In some ways, you’d have an easier time picking up an 8 at the bar than a 5 in the chem lab.  At least the bar is full of other 7s, 8s, 9s; competition keeps the attention from getting to her head.  The STEM 5, on the other hand, is surrounded by the horniest, most awkward dudes this side of Canada.  At least half of them, I’m sure, think moves like this guy’s are the way to go… plus doing her homework, carrying her books, and whatever else figures into the STEM guys’ weird, 1950ish idea of “romance.”

As it turns out, I have some experience in this area.  I had lots of high school friends who went to the pricey, private, elite engineering school across town from my crappy public college.  Since engineers all drink like fish in college, I was forever hopping on the bus to go throw down a few with my buddies – their parties seemingly aimed for a 1:1 keg:person ratio.  One night, I found myself getting the coldest shoulder imaginable from this barely passable chick.  Again, I’m not Don Juan, but there’s no way I should’ve been getting blown out by this maybe 6-in-low-light-and-after-a-few-shots.  And I do mean blown out — she did everything short of pulling down my pants and laughing.

But then a weird thing happened.  I got back to my buddies, and they were all high-fiving and congratulating me for even getting five minutes with this chick.  I was baffled, until they explained to me that I’d been hitting on the hottest girl in school.  Like, she was the homecoming queen, dated the quarterback, etc. etc., and I was apparently some kind of stud for even having the balls to talk to her.  Now, we were all well on our way to wasted at the time, but my buddies couldn’t grok it when I explained to them that this engineering uber-babe wouldn’t have even been the best looking girl on my dorm floor, and what’s more, guys, you and I went to high school together…. we were constantly surrounded by much better looking girls than this.  Hell, we’d dated girls who were at least as good looking, and we — or, at least, you — are the kind of guys who’d end up at an elite engineering school….

See what I mean? All the dorks pining after her had given this chick impenetrable bitch armor.  I’m not sure any amount of “Game” would’ve worked on her, until you got her out of that weird little world and around normal girls for a few hours.  I’m well out of the dating scene now, but if I had to give some advice to guys like my friends (or, sadly, myself) back in the days, it’d be “plenty of fish, dude.  Plenty of fish.  It’s a cliche because it’s true.  Find out where the Education majors hang out — they’re easy.”

But, alas, this is the Age of Asperger’s.  If I said “plenty of fish in the sea, dude,” this poindexter would probably rent a boat….

 

*PS: I’m aware that coxswain is a naval rate; I just think it sounds funny.

The Time Capsule

As I said in this discussion over at the Z Blog, it’s weird — and deeply unpleasant — living through the end of an epoch.  Watching Europe’s voluntary suicide-by-immigration — coming soon to a theater near you! — I understand what civilized Romano-Britons must’ve felt, watching the last legions sailing away from the London docks.  Things are actually pretty good right now, materially speaking — I’m writing this from a nice room, climate controlled, with electricity, running water, and plenty of food in the fridge — and that’s not likely to change in the immediate future.  It’s not as if the Picts are propping ladders up against the wall as we speak.  But the writing is on the wall: The West — tolerant, liberal, open-minded, scientific, Christian — is over.

I’ll leave it to historians more schooled than I in 20th century history to perform the autopsy… assuming there are any a few decades from now.  But in the spirit of guild fraternity, I’d like to help them out.  Let’s leave a few primary sources behind.

One of the hardest things to get at is culture.  Go on Project Gutenberg and peruse some 19th century novels.  We need “scholarly editions” now to fully appreciate even the classics; the dime novels, which were more fully of their milieu, are almost incomprehensible in spots.  The products, the slang, all of the little ways of living that they took for granted and we’re in the dark about….

So: What would you like remembered about your times?  Slang?  Products?  Attitudes?  I’m not talking about “stupid liberals believed this” or “can you believe that was popular?”  The fact that it was believed, was popular, is the important stuff, because that’s the kind of thing historians need to know.  Let the 2095 folks figure out why Nickelback sold seventy zillion albums, despite everyone seemingly hating them.  We just want to record the pop culture tidbits that strike us for posterity.

What do you say?

A Great Idea – UPDATED

This is the best idea I’ve heard in a long time.  Of course, it could never work in America — the parasite class, both inside and outside government, is simply too large to ever implement it — but in less ridiculous polities than ours it might just work.

Maybe some municipalities could try it.

UPDATE:  This started as a reply to Nate Winchester, but needs to go on the main page.

Nate forwards a link from Bayou Renaissance Man, who makes excellent points about “Basic Income.”  I agree with them all.  Problem is, his objections assume that we still live in a republic.  We don’t, and we haven’t, for at least 150 years.

Once you accept the basic premisis of managerialism — that residents of a nation are problems to be managed, rather than participating citizens — you’ve abandoned democracy.  You can’t be both a citizen and a subject.  They’re opposites.  It’s unpossible.

28228-Thats-Unpossible-Ralph-wiggum-PcuIThe United States made its choice 150 years ago.  Thanks to the Pension Act, Union Army veterans got to vote on how much they’d be compensated for their disabilites, as well as what counted as a “disability” in the first place. As Union vets were the largest recognizable voting bloc in the Gilded Age, the easiest way to buy votes was to expand the pension laws… which government after government did, right up to the turn of the 20th century

We’ve been trying to square the citizen/subject circle ever since, and failing.  Every welfare program faces the same fundamental contradiction — you’re letting people vote on how much the government should pay them.

Note that it doesn’t have to be this way.  Great Britian’s 1834 Poor Law disenfranchised those who took public assistance.  If you want to be a ward of the state, you don’t get a say in how the state is run.  The inmates don’t get to vote on the asylum’s policies.  If, at any time, you wanted / were able to try your luck in the labor market again, you got your vote back.

In a rational polity — or even one less ridiculous than ours, like Finland — this would be part of the national discussion on citizenship.  We don’t let H1-B visa holders vote, even though — we’re routinely informed — their labor is so vital for the American economy.  We assume they’d form blocs and rig things in their favor, as they have only short-term personal interests in American politics.  They have no reason to take the long view, so they won’t.

Government assistance can — and should — work the same way.  We’ll never do it, of course, but since Trump et al are forcing us to at least kinda sorta nibble around the edges of the national question, we should at least bring this up as a live option.  Time was, we understood that rights entail corresponding duties — fail to discharge the one, lose the other.  If “welfare is a right” — as we’re so often told by Our Betters, the Liberal — then it’s the wefare recipient’s duty to bow out of elections.

And be honest: How many of you are truly bothered by the idea of a Welfare Queen as such?  Anyone with any experience of life knows that there are certain people who are just going to be parasites  They won’t work, and they’re going to go to the dogs no matter what incentives you hold out, or penalties you threaten.  Think of Huck Finn’s dad.  Those people are the bedrock on which the managerial state is built.  I for one don’t have a problem with paying taxes to get them a basic food ration.  It’s only when they get to team up and vote on how much to tax me that I get irate.

Finland is a Scandinavian country, so they don’t have such a…. diverse…. parasite class as we do.  So $900 a month or whatever will probably work for them.  And, logically, they’re willing to tolerate the natural Darwinian end of the incorrigible few who will spend all their allowance on booze and hookers.  Americans won’t do that either, but, again, be honest: If we could keep ghetto dysfunction in the ghetto by means of a food ration, some disposable cash, and Hamsterdam, wouldn’t you take that deal?  They don’t get to vote, and they get stomped by the cops if they bring their shit out of the ‘hood… and, of course, they get both the franchise and a get-out-of-a-cop-stomping card if they choose to leave their old ways behind.  Americans have no idea what goes on in the inner cities anyway.  Gang violence and ODs don’t bother us, because thanks to the Goodthinkers in the media, we don’t have to see them.  Again, in a rational polity a place like Detroit would be a burning national shame.  Fred Reed has written a zillion words on this topic; go take a gander.

And yeah, I’m well aware that this is “not who we are,” “not our values,” etc.  But look: I’m a historian.  We havent’ been who we are, or true to our values, since the War of Northern Aggression.  Disenfranchsing welfare recipients is, yes, cruel, awful, and of course racist.  But it’s also the only way to resolve the citizen / subject dilemma.  Agree to be managed, and take the consequences — again, I’d be happy to pay my taxes for this, and I suspect that you would to (be honest!).  Finland is giving it a whirl.  If they succeed… well, given what’s coming down the pike when the next financial bubble bursts, we need to at least think it over.

Space Raptor Butt Invasion

There is a sci-fi short story out there called “Space Raptor Butt Invasion.” It has been nominated for a Hugo Award.  I couldn’t care less about the whole Sad / Rabid Puppies dust up, but because they have nominated it, there will be serious discussion about a story called “Space Raptor Butt Invasion.”

And yes, it’s a real story (link to Amazon, but if you think any part of “Space Raptor Butt Invasion” is SFW, please send me your organization’s job app asap).

This has been a public service announcement.  Y’all need to know this stuff.

The Tragic Death of the Canadian Girlfriend

The eighth circle of Hell is reserved for the fraudulent.  I’m not sure which particular ditch people who push identity politics onto kids occupy, but I’m pretty sure that the demons who punish them all look like Canadian girlfriends.

She really is Canadian

She really is Canadian

Allow me to explain, for the benefit of younger readers.  The sexual maturation process, like maturation in general, is wildly variable.  Worse, social skills usually lag woefully behind sexual development — the gawky, dorky, yet super-horny teenager is a stereotype for a reason.  If, like me, you were born in the Jurassic, and if, again like me, you were one of those gawky, dorky, yet super-horny teenagers, your parents probably compared your fumbling attempts to get a date with a dog chasing cars — you have no idea why you do it, and you wouldn’t have the first clue what to do with one if you caught it.

And that’s the beauty of the Canadian girlfriend.  If your social skills don’t sync up with your raging hormones, you can get yourself a little breathing room in your peer group by claiming you met this great girl on summer vacation…. but, alas, she lives in Canada, and even though you were totally this close to scoring, she had to go back to, like, Ottawa … but she writes you every week, and dude, this Christmas vacation, it’s gonna be epic……

You know what I mean, and if you were a teenager at any time before the Internet Age, you undoubtedly know someone who tried a version of this (not that any one of you, our four regular readers, did this; I know y’all are lotharios from way back.  But I’m sure you know someone who did, if you’re old enough).

Girls did it too, I found out about 20 years later (sometimes I’m not the quickest on the uptake).  Sometimes “I have a boyfriend” really meant she had a boyfriend.  Sometimes it meant “not in a million years would I ever go out with you” (which is what I always figured it meant, at least in my case).  But sometimes, “I have a boyfriend” meant “he’s in Canada,” which meant “I’m not going to go out with you, because I’m not mentally and emotionally ready to go out with anyone.”

It was a pretty good system, all things considered.  If you got shot down, well, it’s not you.  It’s just that she’s dating a lifeguard from Vancouver… and besides, she’s got nothing on that hottie from Ottawa anyway.

Sadly, that doesn’t work in the Internet Age, thanks in no small part to Cultural Marxists who push identity politics further and further down the maturity ladder.  Which is what I suspect happened to sad cases like this self-proclaimed “asexual.”  I apologize in advance for this, but y’all need to see it:

Okay but… I’m surrounded by f–kboys?? Like ALL the time. Even the moderately decent ones are 100% f–kboys. WHY?? WHY?
I got the skeeziest once over from one of the new f–kboys and then one of the other ones that I’ve been having issues with BECAUSE HE SUCKS AT HIS F–KING JOB BUT THINKS HE’S HOT SH*T SO REFUSES TO DO BETTER decided to try flirting with me and then say “Well, you know, I only date people I work with” and I rolled my eyes so f–king hard holy shit and actually said “Yeah, well, I literally have no interest in dating anyone so” to which THE ENTIRE TEAM OF F–KBOYS RESPONDED THAT THEY DOUBT THAT because obviously their personalities and their d–ks are so f–king magical that I MUST want them, righT????????? so then I just “Sweetheart, trust me, if it was a lie I wouldn’t be wearing a shirt that literally says it” (wearing my “Asexual pirate isn’t interested in your booty” shirt today) AND THEY STILL WEREN’T STOPPING AND OMG THEY’RE SO SELF IMPORTANT LIKE WHY???
Mostly it just wasn’t that bad because they’re all children to me, regardless of age and how mature they think they are. So lots of eye rolls. A few of them aren’t 100% awful (1 is actually kinda chill) but yeah, no. Still f–kboys.

Translation: Self-proclaimed “asexual” girl gets hit on by male coworker, freaks out.

I’ll grant for purposes of argument that it’s possible for a human to be “asexual,” but I’m thinking that in this case, cause-and-effect run the other way.  Here we have a young lady who first got messed up by identity politics, then decided she was “asexual.”  Stacy McCain’s link provides not only pictures (are we not men?), but evidence for my hypothesis:

Panromantic asexual//demi-romantic asexual (because I rarely experience romantic attraction but when I do gender’s not a factor). I’m 22, and I didn’t know that I was asexual until I was almost 21 years old . . . Until then, I dated and generally did a LOT of things I didn’t really care for/want to do because I was expected to do them and whenever I expressed that I didn’t care for them people told me I was broken and there was something wrong with me…

Armchair diagnosis is pretty easy — sexual maturity hit fairly late, but Cultural Marxism hit very early, so while her more sexually mature peers were out slutting it up, she really couldn’t see what the big deal was.  Which meant that any sexual encounters she had would’ve been unpleasant indeed, further confusing her and leading, via Google search, to the safe harbor of ever-more-radicalized identity politics.

A Canadian boyfriend could’ve prevented all this.*  Saving yourself for Chad from Vancouver — or letting it be known on the down low that it’s mind-blowing when you do finally manage to get together — buys valuable time to let your hormones catch up with your head.  And since more than one person in your peer group undoubtedly is (or was) in a similar boat, everyone’s going to pretend to believe you.

Alas, the Internet killed it.  It’s nearly impossible to fake a Canadian girlfriend in the age of Facebook and instant messaging.  So we’ll have more and more poor souls like this girl, yoked to radical politics when all she really needed was a few more years to mature.  Tragic.

 

 

*So could a promise ring or other “true love waits” paraphernalia, of course, but this IS the Internet Age we’re discussing.

Trump is a “Progressive”…

….and so are his supporters.

One of the points I keep hammering here (our four regular readers can feel free to sing the chorus) is that both sides of America have been radicalized.  That sounds badly wrong to us — the Right — because unhinged, feelz-before-realz emoting defines the Left.

But think about it for a sec.  How do you argue with a lunatic?  Nothing the Left says or does makes any sense.  Their orthodoxy changes on a dime, such that yesterday’s vile insult is today’s sacred Constitutional right.  The cognitive dissonance of — just to take the most recent example — voting for the woman who covered her husband’s serial philandering (and probable sexual assault), because feminism, could crack Wolverine’s skull.  You can’t make a principled argument against someone whose only “principle” is “whatever feels most important to me at this instant is the most important thing in the universe.”

So we radicalize, too.  My go-to example is the W. Bush administration.  Foreign wars aside, you could post a neutral description of his policies on Bernie Sanders’s website and not raise an eyebrow.  And yet, stalwart conservatives — yours truly most definitely included — were out there defending the guy tooth and claw.  The enemy of my enemy is my friend, right?  A great rule of thumb for mob bosses, but it has nothing to do with principles.  We just wanted to stick it to the blue-haired nose-ringers, and since the words “far right” freak them out, well, then, we’re the far right.  Right?

Feelz before realz, comrades…. feelz before realz.

And now along comes Donald Trump.  Oh, how he gives the Kos Kidz the vapors!  Lefties hate him almost as much as the GOP Establishment does, and the thought of Rance Priebus and the rest of the Old School Ties sharing the same campus safe space as the granola grrls gives us schadenboners.  That’s his appeal, right there.

Seriously.  That’s it.

As I am an amateur, let me pass the mic to a professional wordsmith, cartoonist Scott Adams:

The evidence is that Trump completely ignores reality and rational thinking in favor of emotional appeal. Sure, much of what Trump says makes sense to his supporters, but I assure you that is coincidence. Trump says whatever gets him the result he wants. He understands humans as 90% irrational and acts accordingly….

You can validate my low opinion of human rationality by asking yourself why Trump supporters don’t care that nothing he says is true. Trump literally makes up facts on the fly. Do you think his supporters have not noticed this awkward situation?

They noticed. They don’t care. And at this point they understand he’s just saying what he needs to say to get elected. Democrats will call that evil. Republicans will call it effective.

Now, admittedly most of that piece is satire.  But it’s true for all that.  Trump’s supporters really don’t care that he makes up “facts” on the fly, contradicts himself, misspells Tweets and calls Hillary Clinton a good person.  They don’t care that he’s a gun grabber, that he hasn’t read his own position papers, that he spends time in nationally-televised debates talking about how big his hands are.

Feelz before realz.  All the right people hate him, and that’s enough.  It just feeels….soooo… GOOD…. to tell the tatted-up androgynous barista who acts like it’s the labor of Sisyphus to pour a coffee for the likes of you to blow it out her no-doubt-beringed ass.

And if that ain’t Progressive, y’all, then nothing is.

The Hobgoblin of Little Minds

Man oh man, the Alt-Right is almost as entertaining as the Kos Kidz.  I’ve been dropping in on the voting threads on sites like Vox Day, and — sorry Gary — I’m starting to come back around to my old position that cognitive dissonance is bullshit.  They’re pulling off some contortions that yoga masters couldn’t.

For instance, remember how the GOP rigged their primary system specifically to beat Ted Cruz?  Somehow — it has defeated my google-fu — the same system that was designed to exclude Cruz is now the system specifically designed to prop Cruz up.  When Jeb was the anointed one, Cruz was the radical outsider; now that Jeb’s gone, Cruz is the Wall Street darling that all the establishment cucks wanted all along.  I even saw some guy asserting that the GOP has been planning for a brokered convention “for years” — presumably engineering Jeb’s humiliating loss, the rise of Trump, the existence of Ben Carson, and whatever Carly Fiorina was up to.  And, of course, Ted Cruz has really been BushCo’s stalking horse all along, according to the InfoWars set.

Frankly, I wouldn’t be surprised to find out that Donald Trump is an Establishment plant sometime here soon.  Because, you see, the Rand Corporation and the reverse vampires have been plotting to make Hillary Clinton president in 2016 for at least 25 years….

A Coup in Western Europe?

Inspired by the discussion here, and this:

[Konstantin Romodanovsky, head of Russia’s Federal Migration Service] comments came after it emerged Brussels was seeking a deal with Vladimir Putin to stop fuelling the influx of migrants into Europe.

A sharp rise in numbers entering the continent from Russia has led senior officials to plead with Moscow for help.

It comes despite warnings that, by bombing Syria and fuelling the flow of refugees, Russia is ‘weaponising’ the crisis to ‘overwhelm’ and ‘break’ Europe.

Meanwhile, migrants continued to ignore warnings about that their hopes for quick access to a better life in Europe would fail.

The facts on the ground appear to be these:

  1. Western Europe can’t afford — financially, culturally, politically — to allow in more “refugees.”
  2. Western European police forces are unable to stop the influx of “refugees”
  3. Indeed, Western European police forces are already overwhelmed by the “refugees” already within their borders — cf. the mass sex attacks Romodanovsky references

Therefore, Western European nations will have to call out their armies to seal their borders.* But:

  1. Western European militaries are tiny — like, the size of a few US army divisions
  2. Western European elites lack the political will to call their tiny armies out to close the borders — indeed, Merkel et al seem suicidally determined to bring in as many “refugees” as possible, as quickly as possible

Therefore, it is likelier that the army will get called out to “escort” and police the “refugee” migrations – the police can’t handle it, and leaving them to their own devices is too great a security risk.

If that happens — if Western European armies are called out to assist an invasion — I really don’t think the proud professional officers are going to take it.  Given the size of their armies, you have to really, really, really want to be in the armed forces to make a career of it.

Which leads to…. a coup, a putsch, whatever you want to call it.  Unless Europe’s leaders wise up and completely reverse course — and there’s very little sign of that happening, as they’re begging Russia, of all nations, to help them — then it seems almost inevitable.

Thoughts?  Am I missing something here?

 

 

*Unless, that is, as Vox Day suggests, Western European nations really are stupid and suicidal enough to invite the Russian military to police their borders for them.  In which case, the Euros richly deserve what’s coming to them, but I wouldn’t wish the fate of “refugees” under the Red Army on anyone.

Another Great Reason to Vote Trump

He has all the right enemies.

THERE they go again. The neocons who led the George W. Bush administration into Iraq are now touting a fresh crusade to save American democracy — and the Republican Party — from an authoritarian foe: Donald J. Trump.

Their campaign began with an impassioned essay in The American Interest last month by Eliot A. Cohen, a former Bush State Department official, who depicted Mr. Trump as symptomatic of the broader “moral rot” of America. Then, in an open letter, more than 100 Republican foreign policy mavens, including neocons such as Mr. Cohen and Robert Kagan, as well as more traditional Republican foreign policy figures like the former World Bank president Robert B. Zoellick, announced they were “united in our opposition to a Donald Trump presidency.”

In this, the year of Our Lord 2016, calling yourself a “neocon” is like declaring yourself a Ghibelline or a Girondin — a relic of an ideology so utterly exploded that few outside the ivory tower have even heard of it.

I wouldn’t trust those assholes if they said the sky is blue and grass is green, and I know I’m not alone.  The World Bank president?  Robert Kagan?  Would this be the same Robert Kagan that was John “Bomb Everyone” McCain’s foreign policy guru in 2008?  You know, back when we, as a nation, were so sick of bombing people that we elected the world’s wimpiest pacifist, who got the Nobel Peace Prize before he even took office?  The same Robert Kagan who said, and I quote

In 2006, Kagan wrote that Russia and China are the greatest “challenge liberalism faces today”: “Nor do Russia and China welcome the liberal West’s efforts to promote liberal politics around the globe, least of all in regions of strategic importance to them. … Unfortunately, al-Qaeda may not be the only challenge liberalism faces today, or even the greatest.”

I guess it’s Donald J. Trump now.  My, how things can change in just ten years.

At this point, I’d vote for the festering corpse of Josef fucking Stalin over anyone the Neocons endorse.  If they’re against Trump, I’m for him.

Conspiracies (Guest Post)

A guest post by Nate Winchester.

I think all of history’s “conspiracy theories” are ultimately this scene from an unremarkable film.

Was there a conspiracy?  Sure, in planting the fish, not to kill.  The conspiracy aimed low, human nature blew up the goal past all proportion.  The “history” (those who find the scene afterwards) assign all the blame to the initial plan.