Posts Tagged ‘sex’

On the most important aspect of life

Recently I have been too busy with life to cover some of the things that really matter. And mixed in between my busy life I had several different examples of young(er) men either believing in the despair of modern times, or having bought the black pill on women, or relationships, or life in general, that I tried to answer to them briefly individually, but it brought home once more, why I write.

And in this regard, although most people would never pair these two very different books this way, I think both Caveman Theory and BELIEVE! are possibly the most important I have put together. Caveman Theory is only available as a digital E-book because there is no way Amazon or the other big stores would carry it, as it exposes a bit too much truth for the various peddlers of lies, while BELIEVE! You can find as a paper book there too.

In a way they are the opposite ends of the spectrum. BELIEVE! Was written from the perspective I wish I had encountered when the very concept of Christianity in general, never mind Catholicism in particular, seemed not just absurd and stupid, but even actively evil. There is no denying the Pedophiles and Satanic nonsense and protection of the Pedos that goes on in Bergoglio’s false Church, and Ratzinger’s before him, all the way back to 1958. They ARE evil. Not just as individual fake Popes and priests and Bishops, which the Church has always had, but in their entirety, as an organisation, the entirety of the Novus Ordo fake Catholic Church IS materially and demonstrably evil. And while a LOT of good people remain in it, through ignorance mostly, the same excuse cannot be held for their fake clerics. So of course one would think Catholicism is evil. And I did too. Because they fooled the whole world and what they practice now is the destruction of Catholicism. No one who does not remember Pious XII, who died on the 9th October 1958, has even ever seen or heard a Valid Pope. You’d have to be at least 80 today to have been ten when he died. Every “Pope” after him, every one of them since that day, has been an impostor. But that is a topic I cover in far more detail in Reclaiming The Catholic Church. In BELIEVE! I just cover the very basics in a way I never encountered when I was not Christian.

When I was a man that believed primarily in the concept of having a word, that is a man who kept his word, and had the concepts of honour, truth and justice, but no sense of any god whatsoever, and trusted only in reality as I saw it, and my wit and reflexes to navigate life. I had therefore spent my life in martial arts and doing whatever interested me most. I had spent time with many different women and even got married and divorced twice and all the pain and trouble that goes with that, and I’d hand plenty of extreme experiences in every respect, including supernatural ones that would have made any normal person believe at least something rather deeply. But nothing had moved me from my engineer’s and real scientist’s perspective of requiring empirical and objective, factual proof. I had theories. I could explain any of the supernatural events with multiple possibilities and ignore any subjective internal preference or feeling.

Being a little on the spectrum but high IQ does allow you to do that, objectively and fairly, which is why to the outside world they can sometimes assume I am some kind of sociopath, which is absolutely not the case, since it is not that I do not empathise or do not have feelings. I do, and they are usually stronger than most people’s because with a greater imagination also comes a greater ability to imagine the pain of others, but the advantage I have is a wiring of brain that means I cannot help but see the logic. The numbers. The cold reality behind it all. A little bit like Neo in the Matrix I suppose, while others get stuck in the emotions of the apparent situation, I have always been able to see the code flowing behind it. And then I can use that to get back into the apparent reality better armed and ready to take it on, which can make those more embedded in it assume I am some unfeeling alien. Capable and efficient beyond the norm, but unpredictable and at times apparently unfeeling to a degree that gives normal people a level of fear and discomfort they would rather avoid. And I, for my part, would rather avoid their frightened eyes and small minds too. I know they can’t help it and that it is me that is the “freak” from a statistical perspective, so their reaction is predictable and to be expected. But it is no less tiring for me.

Had I come across someone that had written BELIEVE! As I have —that dealt face on with the reality I saw every day and didn’t dodge the questions I had— in short, that would have presented the arguments as I have, and as I saw them, from someone that had done and been in and had done to them, everything from violence to fear, to love, and lust, and betrayal, to both pain and pleasure unexpected and surprising, perhaps I would have gone on to study the truth about Christianity sooner, and maybe I would have saved myself decades of unknowing search.

Well, in that respect, I think that little book BELIEVE! has succeeded. Many men and several women have now converted to Catholicism (the real one, Sedevacantist as we now need to specify in these times) in part at least because of that little book. And then have gone on to find their wife and marry her and now are awaiting the birth of their first child. These are all couples under thirty where the men range from being far from innocent, to generally originally fairly honest men if not necessarily pious.

In that respect then, BELIEVE! is more a text written for those men who wild and unafraid though they are, still have that sense of truth inside them, that will keep them seeking. Like me I guess, if you never stop, eventually it is true that you will find it. But it may take you twenty years or more than it should.

I wanted to help shorten that time. As far as I can tell —and honestly, to my great surprise— BELIEVE! Succeeded in that beyond my wildest dreams.

But some men (including me as I used to be) are really not interested in reading how some fool found God, and a Catholic God at that?! What nonsense. What a scam. Why would I pay some tenner or more for it, never mind read the stupid thing? No. I knew better! And besides, there is pussy to chase and women to fuck! Training and fighting to be had, and missions to accomplish! Fuck that kneeling fag and his cross.

Yeah. I been there too buddy-boy. So pick up your shield and run and charge. Go crashing into all the dragons and enemies, made of the illusion before us all. Fight hard now, mind. Don’t you slack off and be a weak-kneed bleeding faggot yourself now, you hear? No whining and self-pity when you get hurt and bleed like a bitch and are hurt and alone. No god before you, no god behind you, right? So get up. Stand. Fight hard you little bitch. Stop whining. So you go ahead and you do that. I guarantee, hard as you are, if you really do that without ever relenting, you will, in time, find the truth. And I can tell you three things about it now you might remember when you do:

First, it will take you a long time and it will hurt. You will learn and see and live through many things most men never do. But it will hurt and hurt bad. And when it does, if you quit, if you finally lie down and just die, you lose. You don’t get to find out the truth. This is the reality for most such men. The vast majority. But if you do make it, you will look back and see how long and how much error and pain you suffered that was unnecessary, and much worse, how much of it you caused in your zeal. In your honest search. In your best way… how so very wrong you were.

Second, you will know, even against your wish, against all your long-held beliefs, even if it were against the deep story of your ancestors you learned to love, against your best arguments and feelings, these two things: Jesus Christ is the King of Kings, the only King, and you owe him your eternal allegiance, and secondly, the Catholic Church is the only one that has always stated very clearly all of what that entails, and even the rules you don’t like have a logic and a reason and a divine sense to them, and following them can only result in good. There is a third little corollary to this, and it is that the Catholic Church is much reduced and only a few priests and bishops remain, they are called sedevacantists and hold to the eternal truth of their predecessors faithfully. The actual Vatican does not contain a single Catholic in it and is infested with Satanists and probably vast arrays of demons.

Third: you’ll think me a bastard for not having been more insistent that you read BELIEVE! Or at least G.K. Chesterton. But like you, I only found Chesterton after I already had my road to Damascus event.

Anyway, the fact remains many would not even look at BELIEVE! Almost on “principle” thinking I’m just another idiot/grifter/liar spouting Jesus nonsense.

But some of those guys might be interested in what I certainly was all my life: women.

Pretty, sexy women. Especially the ones willing and able to get naked with you and do all sorts of sexual stuff with you. And how to convince the ones not willing, to become more willing. Not in a bad way, not to just use them and get rid of them to hit some magic number of conquests. At least for me that was never a thing. I enjoyed women and I wanted our time together, brief or long, to be good and happy and fun for us both. Most women couldn’t keep up with me intellectually and very often physically too, so the long term stuff tended to become a kind of myth. A Shangri-La of legend, but I never became bitter or angry at women. I just treated them at the level they treated me, and moved on when they irritated me beyond a certain point, which in my case has always been a fairly low threshold, so… there was a lot of moving on. Originally, as a young man my intent was not to bang around as many women as possible. I just wanted one good one. Life just seemed to make that impossible for me. Or maybe me for them. So I just carried on. I wasn’t finding The One but hey, whatever, I was finding numbers two through to whatever, and enjoying the journey. But ideally, sure, I would have liked to find The One. And when I thought I had maybe found her a few times, it turned out to be a mirage. An illusion of my own mind, really. It was only AFTER, the road to Damascus event, only after that, that I realised how badly my own perspective in all this, women, sex, relationships, was lacking truth.

Not because I was such a liar or deceiver to women in general or any of them in particular. In fact, as a general rule I was brutally honest with them, which meant I was called a bastard more than a few times. The lack of truth was in my not having understood, or perhaps it is better to say in having forgotten, what the truth of love is.

We are all born with it originally (excepting maybe a few serious neurological malformations in the brain or soul).

I remember as a two or three year old playing in the dirt with this little girl my age, I still remember her name, Susanna. And I have since forgotten many of the names and even faces, of the women I have been inside of. So much so that I took to writing their names down at one point, because I knew otherwise I would never recall anything about them. Maybe not even any of the intimate moments. But I still remember little Susanna. Playing with her and feeling so content for that brief moment in my grandmother’s garden. Expecting nothing of her or her of me, and just being at peace and serene with her presence there to keep me company as we played. Even as a child my life was far from settled, so maybe it’s that, though I doubt it as I never saw the moving and travelling and changing country and all the rest of it as bad. It was all just a giant adventure, and I liked exploring, always have. So I really believe, as I look back now, to one of the very few clear memories I have from that age, now more than half a century behind me, that the sensation stayed with me so clear and so long because it was maybe the first time I truly experienced the real sensation of peace, and calm and calm joy that comes from love, unimpeded by anything else. Innocent, as two or three year olds are.

And that aspect, is not there anymore when you have fucked and fucked and fucked yourself into dozens of women and them into you, your heart and theirs battered and scarred by all the violent emotions of a life lived in the world and of the world, where the subtle truths of real meaning float alone only inside yourself, unable to connect with those of others except very briefly into a moment of brutal force you exert on each other to feel something. Where even the tender caresses are brutal and painful because ephemeral and not joined to each other’s hearts even when we might see them. You are there and I am here, there is no One.

So now I saw that. And I saw how I had lived and believed, and not for being a bad guy or having any bad intent, but how even so, my vision was so wrong. So mistaken. Honest. Brave even; persevering for certain at least, but alone almost always, even if not lonely. And just… mistaken. And then I took up to trying to read the Bible. And I read Ephasians. And Corinthians. And then I saw.

Then I remembered Susanna. And I knew.

I was always fascinated by astronomy. I have always understood from a very young age the distance between the stars. I was about four and certainly no older than six when I first understood what a light year was. And how far galaxies are from one another. Well, in that moment, in my bedroom at night, alone, in London, in that apartment on the Thames, the second one, not the nicer first one, after reading Ephasians, I sat there and realised how far I was from the truth of love.

That one person I had sought since I was sixteen, consciously, and then just as she became a blur of faces and bodies and orgasms.

My way of being, who I was, was so far from a man that could experience that kind of love, the real one, the one we all want and seek deep down, that I felt the distance between galaxies was short and nearby. I felt as if I was at the outer reaches of the know Universe and moving in the wrong direction anyway, the inertia and momentum of the Big Bang, making it so, regardless of my desire or even intent.

I knew then that at 43 or 44 years of age, either 10 or 11 years ago now, I forget the year but I suspect it was 2013, that I would never know that love I had unknowingly been looking for all my adult life. It simply was not possible for me. I was too far. Too far gone, too much seen and felt and experienced. There weren’t even any other humans out there, much less a woman that could or would love me that way or that I could love her that way, and she be able to experience it. It just was not a thing that could exist. I wasn’t bitter or angry or even very sad about it. A little lonely maybe, but not desperate or torn. Like an animal in a field. A dog alone somewhere with no owner and no pack. Like any animal alone. They feel a kind of something akin to mild sadness, the knowledge they are alone, but there is no sense of self-pity or tragedy. Just like getting wet in the rain. It just is.

And so I knew.

And I had seen and felt God by then, as much as any human being can without bursting into flames anyway, I guess. So I knew it was real and just how it was. And I carried on. I still had to work, and eat, and live, and yes, to fuck too. I carried on seeing women, but far less frequently and there were almost no one night stands any more. Not intentionally anyway. And I tried to put up with their nonsense calmly, because I could see now, who was I to judge them and their ways, after all? Me the voyager at the edge of the Universe. How much closer in their idiotic and irritating ways were they anyway compared to me, to a semblance of truth?

And I could not feel too much, anyway. Which paradoxically meant I spent more time with those women who are most damaged and irreparable. Their own errors of perception and life making them also… voyagers. Not as far lost as me, for they at least were ignorant of their condition. They may have not been all that far from the truth of love as I was, but their blindness meant they could not see the distance anyway. Nor could I explain it to them or even open their eyes. I could, at most, stay near them as best I could, if I could. It was another kind of loneliness. One I felt more than being simply alone by myself. The one woman I ended up spending the most time with in that twilight zone of the senses I was in for some years, was so damaged and hurt and broken, that I think there is a genuine possibility that she was at least partially possessed. She certainly exhibited aspects of it anyway. And whatever it was, emotional instability, or partial demonic influence, despite it, on some level, I did connect with her. It was fractured and partial and unhealthy probably, but on some level I did care for her, or I tried to anyway. Then I had a year in Venice. She came to visit a couple of times, but mostly I was alone and working, and I knew Venice would heal me in the most painful way possible, because that city is so beautiful it hurts. And to be there alone, walk its calles late at night, be alone in that splendour in spring and summer, and the mystic fog of autumn and winter, Christmas and New year alone, and my birthday and the ones of friends and family all far from me… it purifies your heart with beauty and calm.

And I started talking, messaging really, with a girl I had met almost a decade earlier. And just writing to each other on telegram. Sharing our lives and some things that happened in them. And so on.

The story with that possibly possessed woman ended badly. As I knew it probably would. And my work with the people that had me transfer to Venice ended in a similar fashion when I exposed to the owner that his managers were taking kickbacks.

In the films the guy who does that is the hero and wins, right? Well. I knew better, because I’d been in that position before, just not at the money I was getting paid this time. But money is just money. I like to have a clean shaven face mostly, and that requires looking in a mirror in the morning. I could have kept quiet and file false reports and would have had at least 100k stashed away which sure would be helpful now, and I don’t and I didn’t. So I kept my personal sense of honour (which I stress is only mine and may not even look remotely good to anyone else, but it is mine, and it works for me) and lost the money and the job. I moved back to London and then, that girl I had been talking to… well… we talked some more. In person. We went for dinner. We kissed. And then, one day, she just moved in. And yes, now we have 5 children between us, and yes I am no longer alone on the outer reaches of the Universe, but the whole impossible journey does not make any sense if you try to look at it with normal, human eyes. But that is where we all start from.

So I wrote Caveman Theory, to take the journey in the other way. Not after a fall, that like with Saul, blinded him for four days and then showed him God and made him a zealot that wrote half the New Testament as Paul.

That book I already wrote, and that’s BELIEVE!, and then I followed it with my attempt at doing a Thomas Aquinas, and laying out the case for the Catholic Church, and how to reclaim it in detail. And it is no wonder that both my books are both much smaller than the works produced by people they aspired to emulate (unconsciously until this very moment, and only in the dimmest sense, to form an analogy). I am no Paul, nor a Thomas Aquinas, but nevertheless those are the equivalent products insofar as my mind is able to emulate them.

Caveman Theory is the journey of the man who lives in the world and is of it and cares not for religion or God. All he knows are his senses and his untamed heart. And women (or men, if you are a woman). And if you are still a little bit human inside, however deeply buried, then, the thing you want, on some level, is to find that One.

And you may be blind. You may remain blind. But even so, in some way, even the wrong paths can lead to Rome. Honesty at least with yourself is a must, but perhaps, through your pursuit of love, in all the wrong places, through, lust, and emotion, and pain, heartache and sex, if you at least stay honest with yourself, and read the concepts in Caveman Theory, you will gently begin to see more and maybe your eyes will open when you see that ultimately, even with no God at all, with zero preaching on my side, just with the practical and the factual human truth before you, when it is stripped of all the lies, you will see a Truth that is larger than the mere whole. At least, that is my hope. And if not, well, then at least you’re still more likely to find a lasting relationship with the concepts in it than not.

Good luck soldier, or madam, as the case may be.

I hope my efforts are a help to you, it is, truly, the only reason I write anything, other than a small amount also for personal amusement (my last book In the Shadow of Monte Castello was mostly all just fun for me, but even then, a little of it was done for others too, even if less so than in any other book I have yet written so far).

But regardless of whether you ever buy a single one of my books or not, I sincerely hope you find your true Way. Your path. And that means the right people to share it with. And as far as I can tell, God intended for us to not be alone, so that means also that you find the right wife or husband for you, and are able to recognise her or him when you meet them, and not waste time in between.

God be with you in your search.

    Catholics and Sex

    As regular readers of this blog know, I am not exactly the spiritual guy to go to for correct advice on the Catholic perspective on sex.

    I don’t actually have any issue with the Catholic position on sex, I believe it is indeed the best way for a married couple to relate to each other.

    Thanks to Adam for this video, which he posted at his blog a little while back, and which I present here below:

    It is definitely one of the better discussions I have seen on the topic, even though it is clear both are Novus Orco believers, so, I do take everything they say with a pinch of salt. It may be of interest to readers here that I give the video high marks, because my position on sex in Catholicism has at times been seen as wrong, or perhaps leading people to sin, or something along those lines, so, if you had a rather debauched sex life, as I did for most of my life, it might interest you to see the interview, since I found it very well done for the most part.

    Given my first 40 plus years of sexual experiences prior to becoming a Catholic I think it’s fair to say that it wasn’t going to be an easy transition. And there are some aspects of the theology behind it that I find difficult to reconcile with logic from a spiritual perspective. Nor is sex the only area I have this with, just because I am Catholic does not mean I don’t think about these things. For example, my perspective on Confession is that at a practical level it makes you into a better person, so it is a definitely good thing overall, and there is no reason not to do it or not to have it, but the idea that God would not be aware of my sin, or conversely, send to Hell despite my genuine repentance and atonement to the best of my ability if I did not manage to go to confession before I drop dead, is, to me, at the very least extremely unlikely, and honestly, I think erroneous. Nevertheless, if everyone said “oh that’s not how it works” pretty soon you’d get… well… Protestantism; because humans without rules are for the most part, no better than cattle or sheep without a Shepard to keep them in line.

    Similarly, I have no problem with the Church’s teaching on sex, which in a nutshell (forgive the somewhat “scandalous” pun) is as follows:

    • No contraception, ever, of any kind, except for NFP (Natural Family Planning) which in the related video starts around 1 hour 30 minutes or so and is well explained.
    • No homosexuality.
    • No refusal of sex from either spouse other than for serious reason, like illness, the potential duty to NOT have any more children, for whatever reason, and so on. The concept here is not that you are the other person’s sex slave, but rather that marriage itself is the gifting of yourself to the other person bodily and your body is literally now their property and vice versa. That, along with the reason of producing children, is literally a fundamental aspect of marriage. This of course is seen as evil, rape-adjacent, sexual slavery from all the degenerate feminists, but it is spelt out very clear in Corinthians 7: “The husband should meet his wife’s sexual needs, and the wife should do the same for her husband. The wife doesn’t have authority over her own body, but the husband does. Likewise, the husband doesn’t have authority over his own body, but the wife does. Don’t refuse to meet each other’s needs unless you both agree for a short period of time to devote yourselves to prayer. Then come back together again so that Satan might not tempt you because of your lack of self-control.” The level at which a man or woman understands this passage, in my experience, is pretty much indicative of their level of spiritual understanding of sex and intimacy in marriage.

    Modernised women have now been “taught” for almost 100 years, that using their bodies to withhold sex from their husbands is “obviously” their “right” and the reality of it is that it has been “weaponised” to essentially cow men into a kind of sex-starved submission.

    Even in my pre-Catholic days, I found that there was broadly speaking (and I will generalise a lot here) two types of women:

    Those who instinctually understood that using sex as a bargaining tool in a relationship (other than perhaps as a joke in some role-play) was a despicable way to act, and never indulged in it.

    Then there were the others, who, as my brother once crudely put it, thought their pussy had the key to an actual spaceship in it (he knew I cared nothing for gold if I could just get access to a small hyperspace capable starship!) and limiting access to it in order to get what they wanted (regardless if it was some specific (and usually unnatural) behaviour from me, or more crudely, material things) was how they operated. This second type of woman tried that tactic with me precisely once. Because the minute they tried it, the relationship was instantly and permanently over. Their shock at this reaction, which was delivered calmly and with absolute finality, was always somewhat amusing. And I can’t recall an instance where they did not then (sometimes immediately) try to reverse the situation, but there was never any coming back from it. A woman that behaved that way was in a space mentally that I wanted nothing to do with, and I strongly advise all men to take a similar approach in this regard. It’s nothing to do with “needing” sex so desperately, or being “angry” at the lack of it, and so on. It is to do with the very foundational issue of how she sees sex, intimacy and indeed marriage as a whole and in context.

    Frankly, I find an actual prostitute that says it will cost X amount for a set time to be with her sexually, to be less offensive to the entire concept of intimacy than a woman that uses sex as a tool to “control” or manipulate a man. And similarly, I find any man that submits to such behaviour to be unworthy of being called a man.

    There was also another type of woman, and these were those that unfortunately had been sexually abused, and given the numbers, it is inevitable that I came across everything from incest to gang-rape. One positive aspect of it was that as far as I know, every woman I was with that had that happen, felt comfortable enough with me to share it, and a second positive aspect is that, again, in I think almost all cases, the resulting physicality between us, helped them resolve many issues.

    There was also, a notable example or two of women that had been sexually abused (rather extremely, really) who, while not at all shy or withholding sexually, at least with me, did have certain difficulties, and occasional really strange behaviours, and I am not referring to various kinks, which can be understandable, but I mean sudden bouts of sadness, depression and so on. These were more difficult aspect to improve rapidly, but in any case, open and honest communication always improved things for them, and did so even in their subsequent relationships, which they did let me know about in most cases.

    Now, setting aside the cases where sexual abuse was present, and given our secularised approach to sex in today’s day and age, it is interesting to note that the women that were most balanced sexually, instinctively never treated sex as a bargaining chip.

    It is a quite fascinating topic really, and one that older women (grandma aged ones) with successful families that are happy and well-balanced will (if you have their confidence) unashamedly tell you that their husbands were never turned away from their bodies. Conversely, a lot of supposedly “Catholic” women, especially in Anglo-Saxon countries, will be prudish and miserly with their bodies even from their husbands.

    The women have been taught this is their God-given right as a “strong independent woman”, their “dignity” as a human being and not being a sex object and so on. Totally inverting the reality of the issue.

    It is precisely because sex has become transactional and objectified in the extreme, that most people have absolutely no idea of what an actually properly intimate sexual act can feel like, or even is, that they assume and “teach” that as with any disposable property, you have to “work” to get it. An analogy might be making your four year old “work” before he can get access to eating food for his dinner. It is an absurd inversion of the concept of a sexual relationship, as much as making your little child work for his food would be an inversion of a parent’s duty.

    So even mentioning this aspect of essentially unrestricted access to your spouse’s body, gets you labelled as some kind of sexual slave-trader, probable human trafficker, or whatever.

    The reality is, of course, as usual, quite different. Although in the modern day, the pleasure of truly gifting your body to another has, for the most part, in many women, been reduced to a pleasure in being especially submissive during the sex act, the reality is that a true and natural submission to your spouse (husband or wife as they may be) is of incomparably finer and deeper beauty than a mere sex act, however “accomplished” that might be.

    It is a difficult concept to transmit to another human being that has not experienced both the degraded version (which almost everyone today that is asexually active knows only too well) and the correct one, but the difference is obvious and unforgettable once experienced.

    The unfortunate (and intentional) barriers to understanding these things have been hammered into all of us with such persistence and over all of our lives, that regaining a properly ordered sexuality is going to be quite the task, and will require conscious effort. But I assure you it is worth it.

    I hope the video helps clarify many things for a lot of people.

      Why PUAs suck. And always have sucked.

      Bear with me a minute, (or 30, this is long. Impossibly so for most millennials) because in order to really drive this point home, it is necessary to understand the origins of the problem, which are far-removed enough from the rotting fruit that most never even have a clue about it.

      Have you ever read any G.K. Chesterton? If you have, you’ll be familiar with his style of presenting some preposterous thing in one phrase, and then, go on in a few paragraphs to prove his point in an undeniable fashion. The man was absolutely brilliant at it and I often say that had I come across his writings in my twenties instead of after I was already a Catholic, I may have become one a lot sooner.

      Now, I am no Chesterton, not by a very, very long shot, as anyone that has read my Believe! will be able to attest, nevertheless, that little book has resulted in over a hundred people converting to proper Catholicism (Sedevacantism), so, while I am but a butcher to Chesterton’s refined sushi preparations, I must serve a purpose too.

      And the title of this post is going to be a bit of a “preposterous” or at least “well, you’re totally wrong” proposition for a lot of the people that might stumble across this.

      Especially the zombie army of complete fuckwits like Andrew Tate. So. As I said: bear with me a minute. And no, this will not be some long, drawn out, moralistic diatribe with Bible verses scattered throughout. This is going to be as close to engineering as human social “science” gets. And as anyone who knows what engineering is will know, engineering is the only science that really matters or makes a difference in worldly matters. And much like a gun, it can be used in a destructive or mechanistic way, or guided by a higher intent of purpose and produce spiritually and humanly uplifting effects.

      So let us begin.

      The aim of every PUA (Pick-Up Artist — in case you have just come out of a cave in Afghanistan after hiding for 20 years) is essentially, at least initially, to be able to have sex with (in theory) as many beautiful women as possible. In reality, in many cases, those who try to learn from supposed PUAs, would be very happy to just get any sex at all. And in a few cases, the prospective “student” merely wants to be able to meet a girl he likes and be able to get her in bed and fall in love and live happily ever after.

      Right. So let’s deal with the usual objections first.

      1. Is it true that having sex with lots of women makes you a better man.

      In order to know, we’d first have to define “better” so let’s do that by the usual and most common factors those interested in PUA activity would say “better” means.

      • Make you more able to communicate with everyone in general and women in particular.
      • Make you more likely or able to get any specific woman you are interested in to get intimate with you.
      • Make you generally more socially aware and raise your general status in the common parlance of the world as we generally find it today.
      • As a result of the above, generally increase your likelihood of being able to secure a better job, better prospects in general and so on.

      The answer to the above is yes. Yes it does.

      Reminder: Note I asked if having sex with lots of women does that. Not paying a bunch of money to a PUA. It’s a very important distinction, so remember it.

      2. Can any of the things PUAs say/tell you/teach you/ increase your chances of having sex with some women.

      Sure. It’s certainly possible anyway. They also could irretrievably damage your perception of reality in a way that is so fundamental it is akin to setting you up for a life of misery.

      The reality is that most PUAs are wannabe tryhards. I have peculiar interests, one of which is cults and cults of personality, (remind me to tell you about my experiences with Dianetics, [scientology], Amma the hugging saint, Tony Robbins, a number of his wannabe clones, the Novus Orco “catholic church” and so on) which I enjoy breaking, making fun of and generally exposing for the fraudulent snake-oil sellers it involves. PUAs are borderline types in this realm, so I turned my baleful eye on them a long time ago. I will pick one PUAk as a relatively typical example. At one point, one of the most prolific producers of PUAs books, courses, and seminars was a guy who called himself Mehow. Which might have been his real name, as I think he was of Polish ancestry (I know, I know! If he’s Polish it’s no wonder he’s retarded right? But hey, chalk this up as another nail in the coffin of “all humans are just one race, human”, ok?).

      Here is a glowing review of him apparently, though he seems to have disappeared in the last few years. Sounds great if you’re after that number 1 stuff above, right?

      Well, I probably should have screen shotted it all way back when, in 2009 or so, because it was all information that he himself provided, on various of his own platforms, though no one had really taken the time to actually look at what he said and put it together. The facts are that by his own admission, he had spent 10 years partying hard with daddy’s money, to the tune of $500,000, been trained by supposedly the best Pick-Up Artists in the world, and become a PUA guru himself, in order to have sex with… drum roll please… “about 30-40 women” which probably means 25 or so.

      Now, as I pointed out back then, if this is the level of “skill” of a top PUA, most women really have nothing to fear from them in terms of losing their virtue to these irresistible ladies men!

      Wealthy fathers on the other hand, may want to teach basic economics to their incel sons.

      Ok then, but still, if you find a “good” PUA, and do get good at having sex with lots of women, you too admit you get all that good stuff at point 1 above, right? So it’s all good!

      Well, actually no. As I wrote a long time ago, I had been with a lot of women before anyone even mentioned PUAs or The Game to me. In fact, it was precisely because my friends, and people at the gym I trained with, saw me leaving with a different pretty woman each week, that they told me about it. A friend literally gave me a copy of the book and said: “You should have a chapter in here. Or maybe a whole book.”

      So, my perspective of PUAs was from the top of the mountain, looking down on these peasants in the rice fields scrambling about to get some, and then scrambling about some more to try and sell their “skills” to each other.

      As I wrote almost 15 years or so ago:

      By the time that I discovered anything about PUAs I had developed quite happily on my own into a man more than capable to satisfy his curiosity of women. This was a fortunate thing because it allowed me a perspective on PUAs and their techniques that was free of being sucked into the promise of alluring women falling at my feet almost as if by magic. To a degree, I already had this power (insofar as it can be had let’s say) so I could look into and study and evaluate the information with eyes already filled of my own experiences. To sum up PUAs briefly is difficult, however I will try. Initially, most of these guys are frustrated geeks that have broken down social interactions between naturally successful ladies’ men and attractive women. They then practice these routines like social robots and begin to have some success at obtaining sex with these plastic techniques. As their confidence grows they refine the techniques and become more adept at luring an ever increasing series of women to their beds. The more daring then continue into experimenting with multiple partners at a time as well as multiple girlfriends at a time. Some openly, others secretly. By and large though, certain truths remain evident. Even if successful at having multiple sex partners most of these individuals are still what I would consider socially inept people. They may have achieved an ability at obtaining sex from women but that per se does not make them good people necessarily. Or likeable. Or happy. Furthermore, the level of hyperbole in this community is rather extreme; especially when you consider that many of the so called Pick-Up Gurus sell products that supposedly will increase a man’s ability to bed stunningly beautiful women.

       

      Keep in mind this was my perspective long before I had any remote hint of Christianity in my world view.

      My perception of PUAs has not improved over time either.

      The key negative here is not even their wish or attempts at getting laid, but rather, the phrase “social robots”.

      While it is understandable that when first attempting some intimidating social interaction one might rely on some repetitive approach, the fact is that a very large number of these would-be Casanovas, end up making “approach routines” and so on their way of relating to the world. Yes, the female world, but really the world at large. They read a Tim Ferris book and then assume all of life is about “hacks”. Then they get into NLP which is a “hack” of proper hypnosis created by a cocaine fiend that either shot and killed his then girlfriend at the time himself, or was responsible for it anyway.

      That’s right, Richard Bandler is not quite the great guy you might have imagined.

      So the really nefarious aspect of PUAs both those who “teach it”, and those who practice it, os the mechanisation of humanity.

      It’s like the series upload. You just order your sex like you do deliveroo and that’s that.

      Honestly, it is more dehumanising than actual prostitution. But the real issue, is that the problems this sort of interaction creates are far-reaching and affect pretty much everything in society in a negative way.

      And this is where we now get to the crux of the PUAs suck statement.

      The entire PUA phenomenon is not really the origin of what we might want to call social degradation, but rather, a reaction to it.

      As, indeed, was my own exploring, and wading through different women in quick succession without any precise aim beyond that of “finding the right one” in the most general of terms. Again, quoting myself from early 2010:

       

      The underground world of PUAs was first exposed by Neill Strauss’ book The Game. As someone interested in all aspects of hypnosis I did look into this community as I will look just about anywhere if it will increase my knowledge base and help me to be more effective in my work. Fortunately for me, somewhat contemporaneously to my study of hypnosis I was also undergoing some drastic life changes in all areas of my life. One of these was my intimate relationships. I had divorced and then had two relationships one after the other which were both extremely intense one very beautiful until its unfortunate and somewhat inevitable end, the other extremely stressful and painful yet coloured with flashes of beauty and power so intense they literally changed my views of radical aspects of my philosophies. As a result, after this, I gave myself to a sort of uninhibited search for some deeper meaning in intimate relationships.

       

      I begun a period of my life that was almost scientific in its detachment and approach yet also extremely intimate and self-revealing. I had more intimate encounters in a few months than I had had in the previous 10 years. I also (counter-intuitively to what most men that behave this way do) was extremely direct and honest with the women involved. I never lied to any of them and I always made it clear how I felt (and more importantly didn’t feel) towards them. With only a few exceptions no one was really hurt emotionally and even when this occurred occasionally it was never anything very serious, merely a little bruised ego either for them or for me. Some of these women —all of whom I am grateful to by the way and for whom I did genuinely care though I may not have been in love with any of them— I only saw once. Some I spent a little time with; all were intelligent, capable women in their own right and they were from all walks of life. They ranged in age, cultures, backgrounds, languages they spoke and of course all other details, yet I could not help but notice that for the most part they were all quite beautiful not only to me but to most men. Every one of these women would be considered a great ‘catch’ by the very vast majority of men.

       

      And to be honest it surprised me. I had never considered myself particularly good looking and certainly not a socially skilled person. I am extremely individualistic, never required much social approval and the very concept of peer pressure was as foreign to me throughout my formative years as was evident the absence of girlfriends.

       

      On examining my past I realised for the first time that apparently through luck or chance or some factor I could not identify, though relatively few in number up to that point, I had always been with beautiful looking women. And those I had fallen in love with were without exception well above any kind of norm (in looks, character and mind). I began to actually experiment with this and became more and more selective. Pretty soon I discovered a sense of things that I think few men really achieve in their life. A sense of self-confidence that I didn’t even know I was missing to begin with that can really only come from being validated by women we value. Undoubtedly some people reading this will consider me a misogynist chauvinist pig. I do not consider myself so, and in fact I love women. Nor, unbelievably as it may sound to some, am I a polygamist by nature.

       

      My nature is monogamous. As long as I find the one, and as long as she’s always earning it (and me for her obviously) I seek nothing more than one woman. This period of my life though helped me to realise that. And I am eternally grateful to every woman I have ever had the good fortune to spend any time with. Without women, truly life would have no purpose I think. If it were possible for men to exist without women we would still live in trees and caves.

       

      Which man would do anything more than club some food to death and find a relatively warm place to sleep if it weren’t for women?

       

      Everything that was ever created, invented, built, reached for, designed, fought for…as the French say (but perhaps differently than they mean!): Cherchéz la femme. Behind everything that man ever did…there is somewhere a woman or the thought of her.

       

      My reaction was due to the eventual collapse of a relationship that had lasted 13 years, though I was never married, then the collapse of my first marriage, which lasted only 4 years and then 2 more relationships of even shorter duration. These four relationships were the only ones that had mattered to me on a rather deeper level, with whatever liaisons happened in between them being essentially distractions or errors.

      In a society that values people, individuals and life in general, in short, in a properly Catholic society, it is extremely likely that I would have remained with my first serious relationship for life. At least in part, and probably a very large part of it, the reason that 13 year old relationship eventually collapsed was probably due to the subtle but persistent infiltration of unhealthy, worldly infiltrations into what would otherwise have been a lifelong relationship.

      The destroyed concept of marriage and family created by my boomer generation parents was common to all of generation X. As was the “natural” idea of abortion rather than having a child at “too young” an age. The utter secularisation of life as a whole, with the total absence of any higher spiritual direction whatever, the only purpose of life seemingly to be exclusively the satanic idea of “being happy”, led to a life that you were being told in every possible way should limit itself to, having as much material possessions as you could, avoid having children altogether because they got in the way of you having “a life”. A life that was supposedly dedicated to essentially the constant pursuit of material distractions and hedonistic pleasures. Frankly, it is only my “noble pagan” ancestral roots that saved me in some ways. Having been raised in a family tradition that still respected concepts like honesty, honour, keeping your word, a sense of natural and simple justice, permitted me to completely sidestep many of the pitfalls that lay there for so many of my generation and perhaps even more so for those that followed.

      I never touched any drugs, never even got drunk once in fact. And my being involved in the budo philosophy of Japanese Karate-do from an early age meant I had a peculiar mix of agnostic zen philosophy with aspects of Shintoist if not reverence, at least historical respect for my ancestors, despite not knowing very much about them until relatively later in life.

      We were also the first generation that became exposed to pornography to a degree that was unprecedented since Roman orgy times, and went well beyond the dirty magazines and hippie “free-love” of the boomer generation. While they had couched perversion and degeneracy as some deluded fantasy of being free of “jealousy” and “possessiveness”, by the time we were coming of age, it had already devolved into the idea that having as much sex as possible with as many people as possible was the “normal” way of life.

      But consider for a moment, what the “rewards” of such an existence would be.

      • The absence of children as the pivotal part of family, because they get in the way of your hedonistic lifestyle.
      • The absence of relationships that endure hardships together because united by any higher purpose beside each part “being happy” and that individualistically within the “relationship”. The very concept that any relationship that had that as foundation could last beyond a few years at most is absurd.
      • Sex as a point-scoring status badge of sorts.
      • Emphasis on the ephemeral aspects of materialism: travel for travel’s sake, with no real deep penetration of cultures or geography beyond the required status symbol passport stamp and digital photo album (later to be displayed publicly online); owning of property and vehicles as further status badges if your success; wealth as proof of your superior intellect and ability, regardless of any other moral considerations.

      I mean, think about it, bombarded by this message constantly, your own parent’s generation committed to these very same “ideals” with the narcissistic compulsion only the boomer generation ever managed to have, even if you “achieved” all of the supposed benchmarks of “success” this lifestyle supposedly promised, what would you be left with?

      At best a healthy property portfolio with no one to leave it to besides the lawyers and ex-wives, as you descended into unglamorous old age alone and spiritually hollow.

      And despite this, as well as being the most aborted generation, many GenXers managed to raise some form of families. Of course the carnage was spectacular. Divorces, abortions, and the pursuit of narcissistic, degenerate, selfishly hedonistic “happiness”, absent of any spiritual or moral rudder, was what surrounded us as we raised ourselves mostly, and these were the “values” we were exposed to constantly. It’s a miracle any of us managed to reproduce and retain a semblance of family at all.

      Of course divorce, and abortion, and chasing smoke dragons, and drugs to numb the existential void, caught almost all of us to some degree or other. And for a generation already drastically reduced by being killed before we were born, then mostly stomped down and limited by our own parent’s generation in multiple ways, we did pretty well at surviving and overcoming and even reversing a few of the trends here and there in individual cases and small pockets of guerrilla resistance. Particularly given how thoroughly the truth of the spiritual aspects of life were hidden from us.

      The boomers were (and remain) so desperate to remain unaware of their own spiritual and moral abyss, that they ridiculed, destroyed, discarded, disgraced, devalued, hid, and avoided, any meaningful confrontation with the numinous. With the reality of existence that truly forms the foundation of any true purpose. With any aspect of catering to the soul instead of the flesh. The boomers rejected what the silents couldn’t hold on to, we GenXers were not even aware something had existed there, for the most part.

      The idea of a True Catholic Mass being meaningful, true, beautiful or even merely useful, was as foreign to us as the idea that some quaint pagan ritual to long-dead Gods might serve any purpose other than historical curiosity of a people that was obviously primitively superstitious and disappeared long ago; probably precisely because they wasted time and energy on such meaningless rituals.

      And yet. If you look around now, it is mostly GenXers rallying the flag of Sedevacantism, and already beginning to pass that torch to generation Zyklon, which are our historical continuation, much as the millennials are that of the boomers.

      Wait, what?

      Allow me to recap. That historical aside was to give you a sense of why and how my generation was steered onto rocks instead of the meaningful life journey of marriage until death, children, family, tradition, real worship of God and respectful obedience to His laws as best as we can, creating truly meaningful lives (and thus happy in the only way that matters) rather than “hollywood happy” ones.

      My personal story is a reflection of what a very few of my generation managed to do: I went full circle, and by luck or divine intervention, had the peculiar attribute of a persistence that almost none of my generational peers had any right to have. What was the point of never giving up when you had no real purpose to fight for? My adopted samurai code kept me away from drugs and a certain level of moral corruption, which did not, however, extend to sexual relations with women. In that respect, my descent into libertine ways was to a certain extent inevitable, given my intense nature, insatiable curiosity, and explorer’s heart.

      But once again, if that becomes the totality of your life, what are you left with at the end of it?

      It was that very conscious thought that led me initially at least partially out of it.

      I distinctly recall the precise moment. I was alone at home, in an apartment I loved and that, incidentally, my eventual future wife had found for me. Lying on the orange couch that had come with the place, on a Saturday I think, having binge-watched a couple or three episodes of NCIS, I consciously considered my life. I was 39 years old, had travelled to many places, had essentially given up on trying to make any meaningful long term relationship work, I was limiting myself to having them last until the woman in question either irritated me or I got bored of her, and had rotated through a few cycles of getting a bunch of women under me in quick succession, then getting rid of all of them for a week or two, then starting the cycle again but with a somewhat “improved” version of the women-merry-go-round. Better read, prettier, dirtier in bed, or whatever the attribute, or set of attributes I got interested in that month.

      I contemplated my future and thought about the different paths it could go. It was obvious to me by now that I could spend the rest of my life as I had been doing for the last few years and I could go to my grave with a constant change of woman on my arm, and that comparatively speaking —in spite of whatever my age or eventual decrepitude and wrinkles would be— such women would always be younger than me and prettier than most men would get a chance to be with long term, never mind temporarily more or less at will.

      The appeal of that sort of future was essentially limited to the frisson of a new woman lifting herself partially off your bed as you gently slide down her knickers for the first time.

      The intensity of a new body under you intent to please you or you pleasing her in ways she had not yet experienced. It’s thrilling. Intoxicating. I suppose, perhaps, there is a kinship to a kind of drug maybe. I wouldn’t know, I never did drugs, but the addiction to the ephemeral might be similar. It’s the kind if life where soon, familiarity could begin to breed contempt instead of a deepening love.

      Where the normal, terrene, aspects of humanity become irritations and inspire contempt, instead of charity, forgiveness and a contemplation of our own weaknesses and errors; a practice that the boomers we were raised by avoided like vermin fleeing fire.

      What can one be left with, living such a life, at say, age 99, looking back while cuddling your shotgun, your cognac and your memories, on your rocking chair?

      The melancholy of remembering (assuming your brain didn’t go to shit by then) the fleeting sensation of how this or that woman’s foot felt on your calf as she orgasmed under you?

      The erotic smell or taste of another?

      The beautiful sunsets over an exclusive beach you shared with the one you had a few months with?

      And who other than yourself to even remember these things with? Or even tell them to? And of what use would they be to anyone? Or of what interest, other than possibly morbid fascination with degeneracy?

      So I thought about the alternative. Find a woman I could tolerate long term and have children and raise a family with. I was not naïve about the hardships that would entail. Including the putting up with the woman, since I had been through enough of them to know that, like all human beings, they all will irritate you in some ways or others. And the complications of raising a child, how it affects every aspect of your life, work, travel. I was not naïve any of those aspects of it. But thinking about it with cold reason, it was obvious that all those efforts would be worth it.

      What I was naïve about however, was actual, full-blown narcissists. In a society that expects and enforces proper courtship, such creatures would be more likely to die alone. But, like the devil, in modern society, actual narcissists of the full blown variety were considered a somewhat mythological creature. At least back in 2008 or so they were. And to me they may as well have been werewolves. Creatures that didn’t actually exist. I was aware of evil people and of extremely selfish, manipulative and unethical ones. I had dealt with them more than most. But I was not prepared to imagine that a quasi-mythical creature, which is really more a shapeshifter at will than just a poor werewolf, who is a mere lunatic after all, could insinuate itself in my life.

      The “methods of measurement” I had evolved were not really designed to sift for narcissists. They covered:

      • Looks – I had to be physically attracted to a high degree to get interested for a potential long term situation
      • Sex – plentiful and varied
      • IQ – they had to at least be able to understand some of the things that interested me once explained. At least in general terms. And be able to hold at least some level of conversation concerning philosophy (of life as lived, not the esoteric writings of some German incel like Schopenhauer)
      • Their attraction to me – If they weren’t interested to a certain level, then I lost interest in them pretty quickly too.
      • Some generic quasi-moral rules of ethics that at least mostly aligned with my own.

      Well, let me tell you, that list does not, in any way sift for narcissists. In reality, as far as functional marriages are concerned, while a mutual attraction is certainly ideal, it is not even necessary. Neither is the sex or, necessarily, the IQ. But their character and ethics are pretty fundamental.

      Today’s superficial ways have seen to it that as long as you have painted over your crappy moral fibre with enough glossy nail polish, sexy underwear, porn-star bedroom etiquette, and CNN or Fox News sound bytes  (to cater to left or right leanings) your abyss of the soul is not even noticed, much less criticised. 

      Yes, it is true, that after such an experience, and in part also thanks to my previous encounters with women of all types, eventually, after I went through all that hell, and came out the other side, I found and ended up with what I believe will be my wife until we drop dead. Hopefully a very long time from now. But the difference is that instead of having adult children starting out in life, I now have children that I hope will get married early and make babies pretty much immediately after doing so, in the hope I get to be a grandfather before I drop dead. 

      I do not regret any aspect of my life. It’s certainly been a hell of a ride so far and has no indications it will be any less interesting going forward, but it is probably true that in a society that had the values that Catholic society had a few hundred years ago, I probably would have married and had a lifetime with hat first girl I was with for 13 years. We would have had a bunch of children and be comfortable enough now to be able to retire in some semblance of peace.

      It does happen to be true that I also believe I am much better able to appreciate the joys of life now than I would have been in that alternate history, and I think I am happier too and with a woman I certainly feel is perfectly matched to me, so overall, I ended up in a better place that will certainly keep me busy (and entertained too, both good and bad) until I eventually do join my ancestors in the afterlife. 

      So What’s The SOLUTION then Kimosabe?

      Patience grasshopper. First, understand where we are:

      • I have identified the issue is the mechanisation of human interactions.
      • I have shown some of the errors, pitfalls and ultimately nihilistic and generation-ending future this way of life produces.
      • The “benefits” such a lifestyle provides would absolutely not be positives or even required in an ordered, Catholic society.

      But before I show you the solutions, you need to understand the real root of the problem. And that is the secularisation of society. That happened because of Protestantism. Protestantism is literally nothing less than the rebellion against God first done by Lucifer the so-called Lightbringer. 

      I have covered this before and in various degrees of detail. But the point remains relatively simple. Protestantism brought in the disordering of relations between the sexes. It started with the introduction of contraception, which changed the dynamic of marriage. From the primary purpose being to create, nurture and raise a family, to having sex for fun.

      Think about that. 

      Serioulsy. Think about it. 

      Try to imagine what the world would be like if not only you, but everyone around you, thought of marriage as a situation in which you remain with that person for life, no matter what, and create and raise children together (as long as you are physically able to). How would that life be? 

      Well, we had that. For quite a long time. Now that attitude is seen as “backward”, unjust to women, socially irresponsible, and endangering the planet.

      Before contraception was accepted by Protestant branches, the very idea of divorce was considered quite scandalous throughout Western Civilisation. After it, divorce naturally became commonplace.

      It is perfectly logical of course, when the primary function of having sex become personal enjoyment, instead of family creation, with the bonus of personal enjoyment, then, sex becomes just one of the many things that has to be “perfect” in order to fill in the relevant box-ticking list that one must curate in order to “be happy”.

      After contraception and fault-free divorce on demand, the very act of getting pregnant is a misfortune, something that will prevent you from doing what you want when you want, with anyone you want. So you begin to murder babies. And today we have “ex-spurts” trying to make it legal to kill babies up to 2 year olds. Mostly it started with this piece of shit in human form.

      Contraception took a while to be “socially acceptable” thanks to the strength that even a declining morality within the greater Catholic Church had instilled in Western man. It took some 400 years from 1521 to get contraception to be more widespread. And it took until 1958 for the Papacy to be taken over right up to the present day, by Satanic freemasons. 

      But here we are. Add in ubiquitous pornography and degeneracy of every kind, such as the current “transgender” movement, aimed specifically at children by the usual LGBTQPedo types and is it any wonder we have a generally sociopathic undercurrent to human relations in 2023.

      So, here FINALLY are the solutions.

      If you have read all that and got to this point, it is probable you’re not a millennial. Maybe a Zyklon with reading skills, which is rare enough but not unheard of. So it is only fair that I point out that this is not Boomer-type “advice” of the “don’t do as I did, but do as I say” variety. Nor is it of the same Boomer type that is more akin to “I did it when it was cool, and I *am* cooler, but don’t YOU do it, you’re not cool enough to pull it off.”

      No. This is the kind of advice from someone that has come through the fire and miraculously is not just alive, but has a happy ending. 

      In essence what I am telling you is:

      “Don’t believe the bullshit of Hollywood son!”

      “You have to fuck your way through an army of whores, gold-diggers and idiots to just begin to understand that porn stars don’t make the best mothers!”

      It’s not so much “don’t be a criminal, because crime doesn’t pay,” type of Bible-thumping advice. It’s more of a “you get ass-raped in prison,” reality check.

      And criminals go to jail. Almost all of them in the long run.

      Ok, fine! as my three year old says, while stamping his foot. But then what do I do?

      Learn. Educate yourself about proper Catholicism. That was the society that created the best situation for humanity, so learn what they did and how and why. And believe me when I say that what you think you know of Catholicism has, in fact, almost nothing to do with it.

      Find out what Sedevacantism is and why it exists. 

      Understand what relationships are from that perspective and what they look like.

      If you can read Italian (or French) you can certainly get into the extreme detail of it by reading this book.

      Understand above all, what is the lie concerning familiarity with many women. I said above that having had lots of sexual interactions can result in an increased ability in having such encounters, obviously, but also that it had other “benefits” of status among your equally brainwashed peers and so on, and by extension in relation to your general life prospects. Sure, but it does that in the context of a fallen world.

      My personal sense of self-worth or ability to achieve certain things in life, was never tied to the number of women I had been with. When I stated that:

      Pretty soon I discovered a sense of things that I think few men really achieve in their life. A sense of self-confidence that I didn’t even know I was missing to begin with that can really only come from being validated by women we value.

      I was referring to my ability with women. I never had doubts about my abilities on other aspects of life, be it work, politics, skills or whatever. The self-confidence with women was merely a confirmation (by these women) that my abilities in general tallied with my own view of them. 

      I assure you that my intensity at any job I undertook, confrontation I faced, or difficulty in life, was in no way affected by how many women I had been with other than very tangentially. Because they had been with me (those whose encounters were of a duration that permitted it) and seen other aspects of my life, they had confirmed their noticing of such abilities by, in a sense, giving themselves to me, at times at least, also in a secondary relation to those abilities. 

      For example, if you’re a millionaire, some women will get sexual with you because of your money. And in that sense it “confirms” you have money. It was never my case, but I had such “confirmation” based on other aspects of my abilities, often in cases that were not even conscious for the women. It doesn’t matter at all —consciously anyway— to most women, if you are a good martial artist, or painter, or poet (assuming the talent isn’t related to wealth), and yet, talented men will tend to attract more women. It’s a natural selection thing, but undeniably, after enough interactions, a pattern of “merit” of various skills could be derived by the number of women who took notice.

      In short, being with lots of women only means you will feel you are able to get with lots of women. And while that skill may give you an ego boost, if you are rational, you will realise that if that ego-boost got you to a better job, say, it was not because you banged a dozen girl in a week. And consequently you will also realise that since you can manipulate your own internal ego-sensations, you can get the ego-boost at will.

      I for example, have almost never been rejected after a face-to-face job interview, and it had absolutely nothing to do with my sexual prowess, I assure you.

      Learn courtship. And no, it doesn’t matter if the woman doesn’t know anything about it or is not used to it. And no, courtship is not bringing flowers and being totally chaste and so on. Sure, it can encompass those things, for a girl that understands such gestures rather than expects them as a tribute to her superficial beauty. It means taking the time to get to know the character of this woman you are interested in. And being able to recognise Red Flags. Which are not necessarily the ones popular culture tells you they are. A man that stands his ground, morally, intellectually or physically, today is labelled some kind of aggressive bully, intolerant, backward, and so on. Society does not supposedly approve of a straight white male that tells you to fuck right off when you try to push your SJW agenda on him, or worse, his children. But guess what, women worth marrying, even if they might deny it from their upset mouths, or believe that no, no, no, they don’t want a “brute” of that sort, inevitably, deep down, ultimately, want to surrender to such a man.

      I honestly would have to think hard to count how many supposed feminists, discovered they really enjoyed discarding the feminist card completely once in the bedroom, and then pretty much never picked it up again. Feminism is the female equivalent of sexual frustration rage that people like Elliot Rodger have. 

      The male incel rage is: If I can’t get any of the pretty girls, then no one will! I’ll kill you all!

      The female incel rage is: If I can’t get any of the deeply hormonally satisfying sexual relationships I want, then no woman ever shall enjoy sex again with anyone!

      Well that’s a lot of time investment but where’s your proof?! (aka provide peer reviewed source).

      Ok, my internet autist friend. Read more. See what Catholic cities, lives and lifestyles were in the 1600s, or the 1700, or the 1800. Learn who invented the actual scientific method. Learn who the greatest astronomers and scientists were in most of human history.

      And if the past is not evidence enough, know that as of 2023, I know of at least 3 or 4 couples that have got engaged to be married as a direct result of reading at least Believe! and maybe event RTCC, but at any rate, of learning about Catholicism. I know of more that got married. And of at least a couple of people that have potentially avoided suiciding themselves because of learning about these things.

      Beyond that, if you are hellbent on drowning your soul and future in pussy, there’s not much I can do, or even want to do, to dissuade you. If god has given us free will, who am I to try to force you away from the path to hell you are choosing?

      All I can do is tell you of my walk along that route and why I think it’s a very bad idea in the end. I not only survived, but I got uncommonly lucky, and I say luck because I know who I am talking to here, people that either are, or were, or aspire to be, as I was, some kind of fearless pussy-hunter, and I don’t want to be so presumptuous to ascribe God’s grace to me to the extent that He clearly Has done so. Not because He has not, but because I don’t want you getting the idea that I think I deserve it. 

      I know I don’t and didn’t deserve it. But God permitted me to have it anyways, and even better than I thought it could be. Of course, there are hardships too, but man, am I glad for these hardships as opposed to the alternatives that I would have faced in that life of headlong hedonism.

      So I hope you have read this all, young man. And I hope you take the advice and use it to avoid all the pitfalls and traps that delayed and snared me, and make the future for you and your children one where the Klaus Schwabs and globohomo pedo-satanists of the world have their DNA eradicated forever.

      And if you’re not all that young anymore, then I hope you are in time still. You can be, and yes, sometimes it’s up to God, but buddy, trust me, if you’re in your late 40s or even 50s, you still can get it all. Which is not to say you don’t need to move your ass, you do, because as my Grandmother always said: “Aiutati e il ciel t’aiuta.” 

      Help yourself and heaven helps you.

      But it’s still all doable.

      Yesterday I spoke to a guy I used to know some 20 years ago and that I did some security/bodyguard/close protection/hello-sir-can-interest-you-in-some-fairness-karma-and-justice kind of stuff. We are the same age. He has 7 children (he started earlier than me, the weakling, so I only have 5) the youngest being 7 months old. And trust me when I say that he had very few redeeming human qualities. Having been who I was, I can say that without any malice.

      If he can, and I can, so can you.

      And in case you’re wondering, no, he’s not Catholic. But he is religious, and believes in his culture and his people’s traditions, and in fact moved back to his ancestral land, as, in a sense, have I. Well, I haven’t taken the Most Serene Republic of Venice back yet, but you know, give it time, I may do it just yet.

      And if you are a Boomer, and managed to read this all without spitting at the screen about how your g-g-generation was the best ever, and how we GenXrs should just have lifted ourselves from our bootstraps, like you did, and all that, then do what you can to help your sons, or theirs, or a total stranger if it comes to it. I mean, hey, if you’re short of ideas, you can always donate to my project here at The Kurganate

      Or like my own father did, help your son/s daughters own property/land/a business that they can develop and pass on to their children and so in in turn. Remember that most wealthy people are so because of generational wealth being passed down.

      My ancestors were adventurers, explorers and handy with swords and guns and some with politics, but they also squandered their fortunes in some cases and made them and passed it on in others, but I plan, as best I can, to pass it all on. And to raise wolves. Good, strong, ethical, Catholic wolves, but wolves nonetheless.

      I hope you do too.

       

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