This is a guest post by Robert.
“I’m too busy. I have no time for worry.”
If you played a drinking game in which you had to take a shot every time you read a whiny comment on a popular manosphere blog, you’d die of alcohol poisoning before reaching the bottom of the page. Why are there so many haters? Because the men who actually take action don’t have time to sit around and write negative responses. In a world of sloth and laziness, finding a purpose is an act of rebellion. A guy who buys a book about picking up women and follows its instructions, will be so busy that he won’t have time to troll the book’s author. The same goes for anyone who hits the gym, or starts a business; they’re occupied to the point that the luxury of inactivity will never present itself.
Long before Roosh was searching for poosy paradise in the darkest corners of eastern Europe, he was traveling across South America seeking to crack the code that is Latin women. Bang Colombia is the very first travel guide he ever published, and it remains one of his more interesting due to its in-depth analysis of one of the continent’s most overlooked countries.
When most Americans think of Colombia, they think of either cocaine or the decades-long civil war that’s been slow-boiling in the country’s jungles. They also know that it’s supposedly one of the most dangerous places to travel in Latin America. Thing is, most Americans are stupid, as Roosh goes into detail about the reality on the ground:
Whenever someone “jokes” with me about getting kidnapped in Colombia, I know they’re an idiot who has probably never stepped outside of the United States. Kidnapping should be your absolute last concern. You have a bigger chance of killing yourself in a bathtub or choking on a jellybean, but if you want to go on an unguided tour in parts of the jungle where the FARC are known to have a presence, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to make out a will beforehand.
This is a guest post by Adiaforon.
As a guy over 40, I’m entering into that time of life when I’m looking back over the things I’ve done, the things I’m doing now, and the things I have left to do. As a new member of the manosphere, I’m finding my bearings, figuring out what I want to contribute to the ‘sphere and the best way to do it. There are many topics that others have covered and others that have yet to be covered. I believe I have some somewhat unique experiences, so here goes.
I want to speak about friendship, particularly the presence of good male friendships that many of us in the ‘sphere lack, particularly after a certain age. No, I’m not really talking about 40. I can say that it starts around 25 or so, the time when most people are graduating college and starting their way in the world of work and relationships. Many of us have women friends, but those pale to male friendships. Why is this a challenge?
One of my friends once asked me something to this effect: “How did you learn how to write the way you do? Any tips?” I gave him a semi-facetious answer involving alcohol and hanging out with drug addicts, but it’s a good question.
How can you become a great writer?
Here’s my thoughts on the matter.
Due to recent events, I’ve had to lock down my Facebook profile. Those of you who previously subscribed to my profile (and everyone else) are welcome to check out my brand spankin’ new Facebook page, which will have links to my articles and other stuff I find interesting. You can even comment on what I post there!
A month ago, I published an article entitled “How to Rape Women and Get Away with It,” which I intended to be a satirical piece attacking feminists for exaggerating the prevalence of rape. I tried to make it clear that it was a satire with various tells: my “listening to Joni Mitchell” bit, my claim that watching Blue Velvet and Irreversible made me a “rape expert,” and the general fact that it was a how-to guide on how to rape women.
I crossed the line. No wait, I didn’t just cross it, I danced across it backwards while raising my middle fingers to the sky.
NOTE: This article was originally published at The Right Stuff on January 17, 2013. I’m re-posting it here as I am no longer affiliated with the site.
The other day, I went to go see the new movie Gangster Squad with a friend. The movie’s ostensibly based on a true story—how a group of LAPD cops formed an extralegal squad to shut down the crime syndicate of Mickey Cohen in the late 40′s—but you’d never know it from actually watching it.
Gangster Squad is one of the fakest, phoniest movies I’ve ever seen.
My article on how feminists reduce women to sex objects is now up at AltRight:
The modern women look mentally off. They’ve deliberately ruined their looks with stupid hipster tattoos, ugly Skrillex haircuts, and body piercings. They wear clothes that are either too tight to contain their jiggling blubber rolls, or otherwise make them look like homeless crack whores. They drink themselves into blackout puking. While they show more skin then the sixties gals, they wield their sex appeal like a mallet, showing not confidence but a weird mix of hostility and desperation. “I have TITS! LOOK AT ME!”
Click here to read the rest.
How many times have you heard some variant of this argument in the manosphere:
“I HATE having to be a cocky, arrogant asshole, but that’s what the girls want me to be. I’d be perfectly happy being a nice guy, a husband and a father, but women these days are mentally ill sluts, not worth marrying.”
My advice: don’t turn it into a drinking game. You’ll be dead within two hours.
As the old saw goes, if you deny reality, it will quickly work against you. You can either stand athwart history sniffling about how the world won’t conform to your expectations, or you can adapt. The women of America and the West in general expect their men to be borderline sociopathic, aloof jerks, so that’s what men are becoming. And given that the women themselves are overweight, masculinized nags, it’s not like you’re going to be able to live the 2.5 children and white picket fence dream, unless you want to raise obese, overmedicated defectives.
This is a guest post by Tim.
I’ve been thinking about my homemaking skills. I can cook competently and I can clean. If I learned how to sew, then I think that I’d have most of the traditional homemaking skills figured out. This would put me ahead of most women—and men—these days. Then I can add other homemaking types skills to those traditional ones; simple home repairs, replacing light fixtures, simple electrical repairs, drywall repairs, dishwasher repairs, lawnmower repairs, checkbook balancing, furniture building, and minor car repairs, like tire changing, oil changes, light replacement, etc. If we look at all of the homemaking type skills, how many girls today could compare to me? What if we just look at the more traditional skills: cooking, cleaning, sewing?