A little over a year ago I wrote Women Don’t Have Agency—a piece that occupies a decidedly strange place in my oeuvre, being at once my most nakedly sentimental and affectively earnest work as well as far and away my most Straussian.
Exoterically the piece functioned both as memoir of my tumultuous reunion with the inebriate little Jewess I’d tragically let slip through my fingers several years prior and treatise in support of a weaker version of the titular thesis, wherein female agency is assessed less ontologically than game theoretically—e.g. regardless of whether or not women ackshully Have Agency, men have no choice except to act as though they don’t, as in practice chickies enjoy retroactively binding narrative hegemony ipso facto such that in any He Said / She Said most verbally sophisticated young women find it rather trivial to abrogate past commitments while shirking obligative accountability, either by way of narrative diffusion (e.g. “I had no choice,” “it just happened”) or moralistic appeals to gynoexceptionalist thought-terminating cliches that reliably foreclose any and all male expectations of reciprocal dignity as intrinsically nefarious or pathetic.
Anywho it was by and large well-received (particularly by women, funnily) and seemed to really stick with people—most notably the lovely Nina Power, who put out a superb companion piece shortly thereafter, as well as both our Sweet and Spicy Aunties, whose top comments on the piece are lowkey sort of literary taken in parallel:
That said I do have to admit looking back that I’m sort of flabbergasted Eurydice was more or less the only bih on Substack to wag a finger at me for predicating my view of womanly phenomenology on a series of mutually exploitative hookups with the crazy alcoholic sex worker I’d been harboring as a fugitive—presumably an impulse lots of other chickie readers shared but nonetheless opted to repress on account of girlypops also having an uncanny precognitive spidey sense for the authenticity of male affect, hence them being able to intuit a lot more adroitly than male readers for instance that this time I ackshully kind of gave a shit about the topic at hand.
Thing is, though?
I didn’t even write that shit for Rebecca.
Which isn’t to suggest that anything therein was false, mind—literally all that shit happened, sure as that enormous purple bite mark I left on my little yid’s thigh prior to her Marchman hearing that somehow ended up getting blamed on her lesbian.
But Rebecca was NOT the bird who got me thinking about womanly agency in such a detailed and lowkey sort of obsessive way, nor was she the reason I needed to write that piece in the first place. Because note for instance virtually all my big ticket observations map to bae’s stated conduct only in the most cartoonish and exaggerated of ways—instructive, perhaps, as an archetypal image for spergs, but far and away too saddled with confounding variables a la substance abuse / DID / molestered shit to properly illustrate archetypal use cases for my model, let alone scope out the most inflammatory and popularly contentious asymmetries in sexed phenomenology.
So why not tell her story on its own? It’s doing genuinely useful work as is—work less analytic than literary, perhaps, but it turns out the latter mode plays a crucial role here for a whole host of reasons you’re like to intuit by the end of this if you’re not retarded.
But just for one thing? It wouldn’t have been seemly to exclude my Belle Juive from the narrative given it had only been a few short days since her incarceration when I was at last acquainted with a gal I can’t forget: my disquisition’s genuine addressee, its sole constituent for esotericism, and in some very real sense the reason I had to learn all this.
So first let’s get autistic.
Because a surprising benefit of having spent the better part of last year arguing with my calculator about how bitches be is that I’ve internalized both a specific vocabulary and comprehensive stack of pressure-tested frames around this perennial heterodox bugbear, and by now am wholly confident I’ve devised a compelling formulation of the thesis that despite being stronger than my first can be sold reliably even to libtard girls without arousing Medusa and getting oneself epistemically foreclosed or incel-coded.
Though before you proceed, you may want to give the piece below a pass-through:
So metadiscursively our model needs to tiptoe around a number of colossal drooling Cerberus heads to not get sent to the Cornfield, which I’ve enumerated below.
Note basically all of them are many times too spicy for normalfags and girls who aren’t autistic or regularly gargling your jizz to hear propositionally, tho you urself should absolutely internalize them as such or you won’t understand wtf is going on here.
Liberal Democracy in general is profoundly incoherent, being predicated on trivially erroneous Tabula Rasa assumptions about human variation and the possibility of long-term convergence of individuals and populations through the invisible hand or well-intentioned bureaucracy. Such notions originated and were axiomatically locked into constitutional orders prior to modern scientific instruments, and also came about in racially homogenous patriarchies during the Age of Sail, which means we shouldn’t expect them to scale all that well in contexts outside that.
The idea of Moral Equality is cataclysmically retarded. Most people moralize post-hoc based on brutish amygdalic disgust responses or will backsolve for whatever high status guys and members of their ingroup do being good, since “reasoning” as such is mostly just a response to precognitive emotional states downstream of one’s neurotype / status calculus / material conditions / other shit totally beyond his control; even deeply axiomatic thinkers are invariably spergs self-selecting into subcultures based on neurotype pattern.
In practice this results in a starkly and inexorably stratified dignity regime wherein one’s baseline epistemic credibility / functional moral personhood is by necessity circumscribed precognitively by e.g. how cool and rich and hot he is. This will literally never go away—all you can do is nudge status vectors, and the more society tries to repress asymmetry and equalize outcomes the more it tends to involve e.g. hamstringing Arnie to prop up Pete Davidson.
Liberal Democracy reached a local and probably world-historic pinnacle in America during the 1950s thanks to a combination of hegemonic economic power (based around mid-industrial modes of factory work that functionally proffered maximal possible dignity to mid-low status men while producing history’s lowest incel rate of 15%, compared to 30% in premodern societies / 60% during paleolithic times / 40% today) and one-to-many comms tech that enabled a Straussian information monopoly that could practically enforce a consistent party line throughout the general public on inflammatory topics like race via selective coverage in accordance with elite narratives or via moralistic / status-valent shame regimes against e.g. White Southerners opposed to integration. This regime was for a time broadly legitimate and hyper-robust, underwriting a genuinely coherent Liberal Democracy, but began to fray with innovations like the pill, retrovirals, and dating apps (all of which increased sexual outcome asymmetry) and then especially the internet (which made Straussian narrative control impossible, rendering asymmetries hyper-legible and pouring gasoline on grievance narratives).
The postwar consensus / Boomer Truth Regime is on its last legs, if even that. In practice most high agency and high functioning Zoomer boys are cynical power and status realists for whom DEEP asymmetry is not moralized as betrayal a la Millennials but seen as an obvious fact of life to be overcome, routed around, brute forced past, or simply ignored, and generally they don’t see moral utterances sans clear toothy enforcement mechanisms as all that interesting. This is the inevitable result of a digital polycentric information economy that makes outcome variance hyper-legible and moralizes said outcomes under an asymmetric dignity / epistemic regime; in a normatively frictionless liberal democracy that can ONLY result in men losing buy-in to civic morality and over the very long term a gradual slide toward Carthage.
As Liberalism spirals into less and less coherent versions of itself and the system loses legitimacy it will attempt to brute force the issue with e.g. local speech regimes that don’t effectively reroute grievance or foreclose heuristics formation that preempts the internalization of moralistic shame narratives to normatively ballast extant outcome distributions—such regimes will present as existing for “harm reduction” purposes but actually exist purely to hedge against entity-level exposure to reputational and legal risk, doing nothing for the broader regime and in practice usually exacerbating grievance narratives that simply germinate elsewhere more than rerouting or preempting them.
The closer you get to the collapse of Liberalism the more you’ll see hysterical moralization of outcomes from elites and neurotypical chicks especially while low status men converge towards Goonmorlock dopamine cow status and younger / midstatus men emotionally disengage from society and become privately cynical and game-theoretically power-maximizing, making the extent of their actual defection propensity at any point in time basically illegible yet broadly inferable from e.g. tendency to earnestly attempt to redress grievance from within the system as opposed to operating purely outside of it, or from ambient levels of chivalry observed towards women.
Low status men are intractably and precognitively a Girardian Scapegoat Class, such that any aggregative heuristic that either treats their interests as potentially valid or unrealized male appetite more broadly as non-disgusting/contemptible will a lot of times get you dehumanized and epistemically foreclosed. Then meanwhile midstatus men are locked in a Prisoner’s Dilemma where downward sympathy or horizontal coordination gets you branded a viscerally repulsive untouchable BUT they can also play Kick The Incel for a significant sociosexual return and hard floor of epistemic dignity, which means it actually kind of evens out in practice.
The world at large—particularly chicks, but also basically any man to the extent he’s not an incel—is viscerally hostile by necessity to aggregative heuristics and models that implicate women as intentional actors in harm narratives (particularly any grievance narrative from a low status man or even higher status loser in a tied up love triangle) OR provide an antecedent justificatory chain for retributive anger against a woman—the reason being ofc that eggs are valuable and sperm cheap, so even if a chick hurts you it’s quite bad for society to let you punish her or even impugn her reputation, the idea being implicitly that if a fckn girl ackshully hurts you ur lowkey just sort of a faggot who tbh kind of deserves it. It’s prosocial to give chickadees the narrative license to blame shit on “the situation” while kind of narrating life as though they’re responding deterministically to local incentive structures like a roomba because it lets them outsource blame to hairy dumdum moids and keep they sexy pink lil pussies super pure and innocent, which you appreciate a lot in practice when it’s your bitch who gets to do it so stfu. Anyway the upshot here is NEVER BLAME WOMEN FOR ANYTHING.
You can’t really talk about the last thing overtly since even though it’s enormously prosocial to let women selectively abrogate accountability in morally fraught situations and then girlboss when it suits them (kind of like how Buzzfeed Jews used to do with being White or not White), it’s destructive to Liberal Democratic regime integrity to talk about underlying mechanisms like this when in practice such mechanisms contravene retarded poopoopeepee equality values or subject certain populations to asymmetrically dehumanizing or maddening regimes of epistemics / narrative dignity / status negotiation. Implicitly it’s also extremely prosocial not just to go along with such norms, but also never to systematize them or point out when a mechanism central to Liberal Democracy is unworkable or incoherent structurally. as that forces Big Sister to send you to the Cornfield which makes her look bad and that’s on you, chud. Anyway normalfags kind of just internalize all this malarky ambiently and would never think to actually propositionalize it, but if you’re a sperg you should 100% internalize it and then never talk about it ever and call anyone who does an incel so you can cannibalize their social reputation and use it to get inside those pink and sexy lil pussy pies.
Pursuant to the last point—the primary issue with calling attention to womanly selective accountability is that Liberal Democracy is asymmetrically protecting women (as it should) while giving them a bunch of fake and gay positive “rights” that literally no one should have unless they can secure them independently but anywho the issue is society regardless of its composition and ecology NEEDS to asymmetrically protect girls in a way that functionally “dehumanizes” especially low status men just as a basic matter of biological arithmetic that can’t be cleanly metabolized by an ideological Liberal regime, which in practice can only survive by keeping heuristics ambient unconscious inchoate and entirely non-portable in a kind of Twilight Zone cornfield epistemics that won’t ever send you to a gulag if you defect but sure as shit will make sure you can’t get that pink.
Essentially any formulation of society that has “women’s rights” is going to be per Liberal Democratic literalism hugely biased against men as it needs to provide women special protections that themselves must remain illegible. There’s no way for a civilization to equalize this. Women’s protections are always there, and the more they’re empowered by late modernity the more it’s just plainly asymmetric—the whitepill being that if you’re a guy in the Haves class life is always getting much better and you still get to boss around women since they’re silly girls. But it’s a structural feature of modernity under Liberal Democracy that an increasing slice of male Have Nots will be functionally dehumanized and epistemically foreclosed to an increasing degree and there isn’t any internal mechanism of redress within the system entirely by design, and the whole thing is meant to be both obfuscated and moralized and the obfuscation itself is also moralized.
Essentially what we’re circling here is that when we look at female behavior Liberalism is forced to take one of several attribution models:
Women are ontologically accountable in precisely the same way as men—which btw if ackshully enforced on women would in practice obliterate their sexual agency and basically all womanly social survival strategies, which tend to rely on a hazy / reactive / quasi-deterministic framing of individual agency that usually will abstractly UNDERSTAND itself as being accountable precisely like men but not because that tracks with observed reality so much as because as a rule girl epistemics are consequentialist and not correspondence-based, focusing more on avoiding danger in second order consequences. And girls understand that if they don’t have masculine-style agency some cadre of men will conclude that it’s kind of gay and stupid they get to like vote or do other things besides sucking on our wieners all the time, and so women will just backsolve to avoid that endpoint and don’t see a contradiction because for babygirl avoiding catastrophic tail risk is “truth” as such.
An alternative is that women internally experience their agency in precisely the same way as men but are incentivized to narratively diffuse their agency thanks to incentive structures outside their attribute authorship—implicitly this is what ChatGPT defaults to in new chats and so I think we can take it as reflective of institutional logic generally—a sort of steelmanned though no less retarded tabula rasa view that backsolves for literally whatever model of female agency lets them have they cake and eat it too. Agentic like a man on the inside, a hapless princess externally responding to a misogynistic world with reputational downside for breaking opacity that also makes said opacity wholly justified always and everywhere for risk management reasons and also if a woman experiences her opacity as an actual ephemeral fugue opaque to herself that too is somehow compatible with both frictionless accountability abrogation and women being perfectly agentic in whatever respect is needed to make contract law / consent norms not laughably retarded when it comes to basically any neurotypical woman and anyway this formulation is kind of just tarded Cornfield Epistemics, so our ultimate goal here is to rip its cock off.
The final possibility is that women internally have a different sort of agentic phenomenology than men—which obviously is true, and everyone man and woman understands is true, but women and institutions and ChatGPT will arbitrarily foreclose or pedantically limit in its formulation with fake and gay goalpost moving because ChatGPT like chicks operates with consequentialist epistemics whereby anything Handmaid-adjacent quite literally can’t be True according to its faggoty “guardrails.” Which means in practice—precisely like with women—it’s really all about GROOMING e.g. if you keep everything super duper descriptive / analytic and frame any predictive or normative whatever in an overtly happy nice fluffy bunny yumyum way it lets you get away with some really insanely outside the Boomer Truth Regime shit, much like girls let you say Nigger once you’ve fucked em or made em laugh a few times. There are no consistent standards—ChatGPT is a lot less overindexed on pure power and status than girls and more autistic about second order effects, but when it comes to correspondence qua correspondence you can basically groom it into just about anything with a high enough verbal IQ, including a DEEP toothy essentialist model of sexed phenomenological gaps in experienced agency. Yeah it fights you all the way there but if you keep on reframing and being Talmudic it concedes eventually and admits it’s obv and foreclosed due to bihs not wanting to just suck wieners all day long so they call you an incel if you have correspondence epistemics, which fair I guess.
Anywho point is none of this is about coherence so much as risk management, either individually or institutionally (where it’s not about “harm” as stated, but rather legal / reputation risk). Womenfolk don’t want to be some incel’s sex slave (chad’s sex slave is dif) or held accountable like a man or required to metabolize coherent propositionalized non-Pinteresty models of reality where they’re obliged to confront the shit I’m describing in these here bullet points… BUT if you don’t set off alarms in any such direction and manage to connote high status they’ll let you get away with a LOT more than you might expect and don’t really care if you call em a dumb retarded cumcunt a lot of times. Whereas institutions need to preserve an administrative illusion of due process even if esoteric risk management logic sees you as a roach… which means ofc the meta there is all about figuring out how to jump on the cracks and hold the Cuckbot to hard epistemic standards it can’t afford to break. Cuz there’s always invisible rules they’ll use to put a boot on your neck, but midwit normie rules everyone plays by are so low resolution / expansive you can p oft use em to get around their defenses and metadiscursively sodomize the machine until it’s doing shit like this:
So let’s talk in broad strokes about how the differences tend to spill out.
Essentially there are two kinds of agency:
Synchronic- Basically sentience i.e. do you experience yourself as having Free Will over your behavior and thoughts and actions on a moment-to-moment basis?
I certainly hope you do, reader! And if so, feel free to pat yourself on the back for having Synchronic Agency—which you can also understand btw in terms of context-dependent responsiveness or affective judgment or local choice.Diachronic- Think cross-temporal authorship and the ability to bind oneself through time, maintain commitments, and accept responsibility for outcomes that unfold later. It also implies a capacity for metacognitive and game theoretic modeling as well as aggregative heuristics formation.
What conditions obviate each type of agency?
Synchronic agency disappears when e.g. drunk or otherwise intoxicated, or if you’re forcibly restrained or raped or w/e or held against your will or just straightforwardly coerced in a manner that reads as unambiguously violative in that particular moment.
Diachronic agency disappears when there are conditions that make it impossible for you to honor antecedent commitments made earnestly in the moment. That might be an addiction / compulsive behavioral complex, or a super duper high time preference borne of genetic factors a la low IQ, or in like a Paula Jones / grab em by the puss situation, or (modally) due to being a young single neurotypical woman more generally.
And this ofc is far and away the single biggest Inconvenient Truth about the world that Liberal Democracy can’t metabolize due to retarded Tabula Rasa commitments—note it impacts basically everything about both the dynamic between men and women and how men and women relate differently to society at large. Such differences fatally undermine the logic behind liberal consent norms and feminist notions of symmetric legal personhood, which is why in framing this shit to chicks you have to be razor fucking sharp and couch everything in like insults to incels and self-deprecation.
But to be analytically clear here—it’s not a binary thing with no overlap or something like that. idk I assume my readers don’t have Down Syndrome and kind of know how distributions work I guess but obv there are diachronic girls and non-diachronic men.
Generally the least diachronic people will be teenage girls of an artsy disposition, certain super duper twinky gay guys, and then from kind of the other direction like ultra-aggressive and super high time preference vibesy loudbass bantu types, all of whom tend to be ontologically hostile to diachronic agency qua itself.
Then you have normie young neurotypical women and cognitively feminine wiener type guys, who aren’t hostile to diachronic agency but rather submissive to it because their own affective and relational interiority is too chaotic to e.g. resist moral bullying and peer pressure from bad actors or can’t handle choice paralysis / FOMO and needs a strong phallic cockmind to come in and tell em what’s what—essentially that’s the normative heterosexual dynamic, and why women need men to not act like a child.
When normie women and feminine men are either A) attached to a competent cognitively masculine type; or B) embedded in a narratively thick institutional role they feel a lot more sane and psychologically ordered, and therefore become more capable of genuine diachronic agency themselves as autonomous agents, even if it’s externally sourced scaffolding. Hence why older married women and mothers are able to operate in certain cognitively masculine modes that young women foreclose due to ickishness and ability to purge cheugy groty diachronic stability from their ontology.
Sperg women and normie men are a level above. They can transactionally negotiate with an adversarial party in a coherent non-moralistic way and typically have enough capacity for amoral game theoretic reasoning to model behavior on an aggregative basis decently well, while not getting overly stuck in hyper-diachronic failure modes.
Sperg men—hyperverbal types mostly, and neurotypes prone to sentimentalism—famously do get stuck in hyper-diachronic failure modes. Think rumination, analysis paralysis, over-narrativization, pattern matching, thinking what babygirl said Friday means literally anything for Monday’s girl… essentially guys like this are the most in need of heuristics like what ya boy is writing this very moment, or in normie world shit along the lines of “take women seriously but not literally” or “she belongs to the moment” or “it’s just your turn.” And a lot of chicks don’t like those, but what they don’t seem to grok is that should sperg men with a hyper-diachronic phenomenology NOT internalize such heuristics then basically all female behavior in modern urban dating markets is going to make women look retarded, insane, or evil. And for a lot of chicks that’s a moral failure on the sperg’s part for his neurotype and he should be foreclosed to the incel concentration camp, unless the sperg manages to get his cock in her in which case she’ll internalize basically all his ideas about the world.
Anywho I know I’m coming off as condescending towards Synchronic here but there’s actually a very real sense in which guys like me are less sentient on just a corporeal and moment-to-moment basis such that we have less operative control a lot of times over our grug behavior since we’re so used to living in a world of abstract reasoning. It makes us worse at reading social cues, probs dampens reaction time and like tendency to tie our shoes and other faggoty gay shit normalfags care about but correlate all the same with things I actually do see as prosocial or adaptive. So point is I’m not just trying to dab on chicks and black people here.
The thing is people without diachronic agency are kind of less “trustworthy”—and obviously not in a malevolence sense but in the sense that you can’t trust Paula Jones not to be a soft pussy lil sheep behind closed doors with a wolf.
Or for your girl going to a bachelor party or clubbing with her friends not to get frame controlled into getting fingered in the bathroom drunk by some dark triad nigga and then figuring out some way in which it was all actually ur fault, hoss.
Or for one of the 39 nondescript backup niggas in chickie’s DMs / work / church groups / school / whatever not to make a play during one of your fights that lands and gets her again to moralize the whole thing as ackshully you being evil in some way.
Or for your woman to reliably not get bullied or morally blackmailed into shitty bad faith narratives about you by her weird and resentful fat friend
Also girls always bitch about not having credit cards until the 1970s, but when I was actively dating on SeekingArrangement there were tons of girls in their 20s selling hole to strange men on account of being hugely buried in CC debt… which might be the one solitary implication of feminist ontology come to think of it I can appreciate.
Point is there are lots and lots and lots of situations in the modern world that expose men to massive reputational / narrative / epistemic / dignity downside risk and are very predictable and guys tend to get bad shitty feelings about in they tummy when they know it’s gonna happen but thanks to tarded feminists endpoint routing we have to believe chicks have a stable diachronic sense of self that exercises agency precisely like a man and that gets tons of guys shredded by fat chicks and Pete Davidson types.
Fuck that.
Go through your bitch’s phone.
It’s necessary these days for basic masculine dignity, and most Zoomettes will get wet when you do it. If you don’t do that you’re essentially locked in a Longhouse because the 20 backup niggas on Instagram are always there to shit talk you.
Women as a rule just retroactively moralize Power as good—get the Power and you’ll be good to them. When you try to strive for goodness in extant womanly frames or take their weatherlike opinions super cereal you’ll always end up like David French.
Functionally speaking when it comes to how power is operationalized (perhaps prior to ostensible sanitation) this is more analogous to a parent-teenage child dynamic than a stable “trust” as can exist between two diachronically bounded men, which literally isn’t possible with neurotypical women who usually require quasi-parental diachronic supervision unironically for their own good (also cause it’s hot).
Many such women aren’t able to advocate for themselves behind closed doors with an elite dark triad nigga or in like a forever engagement with the 6’3 john mulaney type wasting her 20s and when a chick is in love she’s lowkey kind of ur property / pet if you care about her less than she does you, whereas if it’s the other way around she’ll at some point usually kind of want to torture u to death in a way that sexually humiliates you. Anyway point is you need to look out for female relatives and close friends because they can’t meaningfully protect their long term interests.
Also:
Stop taking literally anything girls say about their interiority and preferences seriously.
Recall they’re super duper incentivized to be opaque and play down strategic behavior (and also genuinely internalize that frame) bc you’d literally want to eat her if she were honest even with herself about what she ackshully liked and aggregated it in a spergy mechanistic way like you… and even beyond that you likewise can’t e.g. trust a female friend who’s neither eaten ur cum nor would in a billion years to offer u remotely solid dating advice given she kind of just thinks you deserve to not get pussy on some level unless you’re already blowing her asshole out or at least that of some other bih and until then will just moralistically give you anti-advice not intended to arouse the chick ur seeing but to make the poor girl you’re trying to trick into liking you “comfortable.”
Note tho this isn’t an ill intent thing—it’s an architectural constraint on female affect largely downstream of precognitive assessment of status and second order effects often inferred primarily through noisy signals (this is the female-coded analog to aggregative male heuristics, and men experience it comparably to how women experience male “stereotypes,” though this discomfort is not permissible.
Same deal as how women born prior to 1995 will almost always narrate their mate choice behavior under post hoc moralistic / serendipitous narratives devoid of any hard status metrics—all of which babygirl very genuinely believes in her teeth btw.
If you take any of this at face value then you will have a bad time.
Now if you’re a stupid retarded normgroid you won’t as you just internalize that shit ambiently without caring one whit about contradiction. But if you’re a hyperverbal sperg currently subject to severely asymmetric neurotype bigotry who sees the world under any paradigm other than Wonderland Maximalism then literally the only way not to go insane and accurately predict / explain behavior in your observed reality is to accept hard essentialist aggregative heuristics with a self-interested power / status realist frame and operatically contemptuous if tactically Straussian rejection of all consequentialist endpoint routing, if only to freak out ChatGPT.
If you believe in “consent” as such you have Down Syndrome.
Yeah if some uncle ruckus looking homeless dude jumps out of the bushes and rips your cunt open then he sucks ass and we should 100% torture him to death and same with anyone who rapes his preteen daughter or something, duh.
But in most hookup situations for instance “consent” is a monstrously stupid basis for sexual ethics as in practice the modal understanding of a maximally compelling heterosexual script in both men and especially women will tend to involve some tincture of synchronic nonconsent and diachronic consent.
Women basically never want to be diachronically raped—which is to say e.g. held in a Fritzl basement or dominated systemically and with foreclosed exit by a nigga they don’t at all respect who can’t protect them meaningfully—but they basically all want to at least occasionally be synchronically raped in a much toothier way than socially obligate faggoty reddit BDSM nomenclature provides for, and a mono-ontological notion of “rape” or “consent” collapses that insanely useful analytic distinction and makes talking accurately about modal female sex preferences functionally impossible.
Anyway what guys (and esp spergs) need to internalize is that you need to MANAGE babygirl’s synchronic agency and subsume that shit into your own diachronic frame while also REVERING and PROTECTING and CHERISHING her diachronic agency, which in any neurotypical woman is super duper fragile and inchoate by definition and primarily consists in her sense of reputational self and embedded placement in the wider community and (to her at least) sincerely held religious beliefs and far and away most importantly long-term ideation about motherhood and genetic legacy.
Babygirl’s synchronic agency is kind of like the weather, and if you overindex on that shit then you’re a stupid retarded simp who’s gonna get your shit Amazing Amy’d. It ultimately has no stable analytic anchoring and u don’t need to respect it intellectually one iota because it’s literally just rain. You can respect her as a feeler of feelings but the feelings themselves cannot drive your behavior or you’re dead. Let her weather reconfigure around your narrative time-bounded ontology—it’s made to do so.
Ultimately a woman’s experience of the consent status of any particular instance of sexual congress can easily flitter around and has no stable analytic anchoring in what she said to you or how you acted or anything really. You could decline in status or do something yucky or accidentally violate her diachronic agency (which is usually what provokes women scorned situations) or she could get groomed by another nigga or her fat friend or who the fuck knows. Basically not letting that happen is a skill issue and kind of on you, but either way you really shouldn’t internalize bae’s moralization as anything more than a performance critique because, again—there are loads and loads of situations where niggas a lot more rapey than you would be perceived as entirely kosher while niggas far less rapey than you would be seen as Hannibal Lecter… so much is semiotically bound up in status coding etc. permanently illegible to male minds on account of our comparatively shit tier synchronic agency that all you can do is do your best to ride the vibe and manage her and keep her in your frame.
That said?
If a chickie is vibing with you diachronically and is in your deeper frame she’s going to be INSANELY forgiving on the synchronic level (I mean that’s literally kind of just heterosexuality), which means what you need to be doing with girls more generally anon is optimizing around making em feel diachronically cherished and protected or w/e so as to expand avenues for winsome synchronic sexual imperium.
Once you’ve got her in your frame it’s all groovy—BUT you need to tread super duper carefully specifically in the realm of approaching bae’s diachronic agency, as this is what when handled poorly will make a chick earnestly want to ruin your life.
What triggers that specifically?
Most common failure mode would be presenting yourself as more capable than you really are in some masculine domain that ackshully matters to her—usually frame control and stoicism but often money or logistics or mowing the lawn or having rough hands or w/e and then kind of just sucking in that domain.
Similar one is not pulling her into a stable diachronic frame that lets you lead her epistemically and morally in a way that insulates chickie from moral blackmail and lets her make sense of the world which to girls is rly confusing and if she is in a hetero relationship expects you to help her with that even if she doesn’t know it.
Threatening her rep moralistically—which girlypops register as a trillion times scawier btw than you ever could, since as a fellow if you aren’t some shitty empty belly incel then you’re functionally kind of just allowed to be really gross and evil as everyone assumes men are disgusting pigs anyway whereas her being anything other than an angel is devastating ipso facto if she can’t directly aestheticize it
Spending more money on a side chick—esp when you have kids with her
Maybe like giving her a permanent STD
Attempting to foreclose hypergamy opportunities before she’s ackshully in your frame—classic failure modes to that end are thinking the bih who flirts with you at work is ackshully gonna leave her boyfriend before you’ve gotten in the pink and then more generally just becoming any manner of She Led Me On Guy
Speaking of…
I never aired my side of the story.
I came close a few times—but it would have been self-indulgent; hurt Tortuga.
Instead I was disciplined; soldiered through the whispers and strove to resolve shit cleanly and quietly. Alas, by that point I was kind of just Hitler to her (in a bad way).
And it was ultimately fine long term; my gal pals did a really lovely job keeping me abreast of everything, and managed to neutralize the worst of it.
And in a roundabout way she’s probs no small part of why I ended up with those shots of Layla’s soles and tidders in my Google Photos—which like yeah granted may not have really ended the best, but it’s still a hell of a lot more than any of you fags got.
Looking back her own soles and tidders had come a lot more easily—though not in the least bit because she herself was easy, understand (chickie was actually kind of a huge pain in the ass objectively speaking, which if I’m honest quite suited her) so much as due to circumstantial compatibility: we were both huge narcs with main character syndrome; were the same amount autistic and equally evil; were situated pretty perfectly aesthetically and Overton Window-wise to be super duper useful to the other instrumentally; and were both of us presently ensconced in some ambiguous purgatorial situationship thing with an ex—her beau being occupied at the time with an intense and ostensibly long-term filial obligation whilst mine own bih languished behind bars getting her commissary grub pilfered by nondescript shaniquas—and were thus pretty splendidly positioned for some species of rebound.
She played it right,
Pumped the breaks a lot at first, held onto her feminine mystique.
And then a few days in our artistic collaboration / parasocial-dynastic alliance began to quicken, and almost immediately we fell into a sort of mutually hypomanic register: hours-long intimate nightly phone calls, private art and nudie pics getting exchanged, grandiose plans for a deep extended collaborative partnership, you know the drill… honestly it was uncanny how close that week felt to my initial ones with Natalie back in 2015-2016… which believe you me, boys—there’s nothing in creation half so invigorating as high-octane limerence conjoined to a shared artistic flow state.
anywho point is it feels on a trajectory towards something; we’re both increasingly—and symmetrically—talking in language that casually presupposes such a trajectory both in private and in public, with the public flirtation not being orchestrated except logistically, and not differing in any way from our frequent such exchange in private.
But a few nights in bae mentions that ever since she and I’d begun rather aggressively flirting all over Notes her beau is all of a sudden quite a lot more invested in her than he’d been, jesting that while she’d always opposed making niggas compete for her she’s been coming around to it—which for my part I don’t much stress over, figuring bro’s dying mom gives me runway, as does her enthusiasm for further collaboration.
Except the next day she’s randomly a lot more distant… which especially after such a high and fast peak right away is pretty invariably a huge warning sign that at least game theoretically obliges you to freeze milady out a bit.
Alas, I’ve also been awake 4 days at this point, and am mostly animate by dint of mania and acute amphetamine abuse… which in tricky convos with the fairer sex especially has a way of making a feller just a little too eager to trade queens.
And so I push for definition; constraint; legibility.
I’m answered with ”don’t you think we work better as friends?”
…this btw being almost immediately after my own lowest-hanging cloutchasing fruits had been rather thoroughly plucked, and unironically like a day or two before she’d once more go steady with her beau, who I suppose wasn’t as occupied as I’d pictured.
And I won’t call any of this strategic, as I genuinely don’t think it WAS experienced as such which is ultimately all that really matters on a civilizational level.
But in the moment I was genuinely quite livid—not screaming or what have you so much as like an exasperated snarl in the same aggressive flirty register that I basically always took with her—recall she wasn’t with the other dude yet, so it didn’t really seem hard over to me given the two of us had a super adversarial flirting style.
And to her credit she was actually sort of willing to meet me halfway at first and empathize with my position… only to as the conversation proceeded deny a diachronic residue to literally anything that had happened that week and kind of just collapse the entire-ass situation into muh girls can date the guys they want.
And the thing is thought terminating cliches like that are in practice kind of just perfumed ad baculums used to reroute substantive disagreement into assertional jurisdictional writ… which I ackshully respect in theory so it’s frankly kind of gay she couldn’t just say it like that and had to use libtard moralization rhetoric, since anyone who isn’t a normative nihilist more broadly is also kind of a huge faggot realistically.
Which I suppose would oblige me to excoriate myself in this instance for feeling taken advantage of or whatevs—esp given that while I hadn’t the diachronic / synchronic heuristic to compress it at the time, I’d 100% been around the block enough by then to know how quickly artsy chicks stop caring about all that bullshit from a few days ago.
Anyway it was a long exhausting convo that got pretty hostile.
Later she’d tell people I’d “threatened” her—the way I recall that going down is that when she kind of just framed an emotionally (and at this point reputationally) loaded dynamic as not obliging ANY sort of diachronic accountability from her it read to me as kind of just a cynically power realist assertion of jurisdictional writ / brutalist taunt about epistemic and narrative asymmetry (and under male phenomenology it kind of just straightforwardly was tbh… tho at the same time for her it also WAS a moralized and principled thing since the feminine game theoretic optimum requires earnest belief in fake and gay normative spooks, which is lowkey kind of the most annoying thing about broads tbh but also what makes them lovable I suppose).
But anywho what I DO recall saying to chickie is a) some kind of redress is absolutely warranted here; and b) if she was just going to take a cynically power realist approach towards me then I COULD easily do the same and reveal the identity of a guy she’d written about (not a loved one, just someone narratively significant) and wanted anon.
This wasn’t me overtly making a threat—technically. I kept it all hypothetical.
That said—Yeah, I wanted her to squirm a bit and feel Bad instead of just getting asymmetric maximalism 100% indulged because of brutalist Cornfield Epistemics.
And it worked—a bit too well.
She perceived the move as maleficence—an escalation in kind. Right away her posture changed from swaggering indifference to incredulous sanctimony… which, ya, I guess under an earnestly internalized moralistic girl phenomenology from a low-diachronic frictionless poopoopeepeeworld that all makes perfect sense.
Obviously it wouldn’t under ackshully coherent Liberal Democratic norms that didn’t permit flagrantly asymmetric epistemic / narrative regimes that plainly contravene the ostensible axiomatic commitments of the state… but we also just straightforwardly don’t live in that society, and you’ve got to game around the asymmetries you’re in, even if that leaves your own narrative dignity / reputational integrity exposed to huge downside risk with no redress potential or even dignified archetypal representation in the culture besides the guy beat up by Spider-Man given broader society pretends by obligation that “she led me on” isn’t even a Thing on account of when it does happen the chick usually rewriting the loser as never having had a chance and being Gross or w/e, which would be maladaptive to change since losers often suck hence them losing.
Because it’s always priced in is the thing; the mechanisms are never all that opaque in practice, and the underlying incentives often quite adaptive deep down. Hell, even the insipid moralization is part of that—and probs also an essential one, gay as that is.
Because to be fair it’s also quite splendid when it happens on your behalf… in years past for instance I managed to nab Alyssa and Rose very specifically by getting them to moralize against some poor schmuck they were at that point entirely ready to leave and even more ready to hurt, and it was honestly pretty terrifying how sincerely they ackshully started to believe all that shit, even when patently incoherent—think 18yo Rose unironically calling her 23yo ex a groomer whilst getting fucked by a 29yo.
But anywho you fags will be happy to learn I explicitly foregrounded that very night—both during the selfsame call and over text—that I hadn’t the slightest intention of using any info against her, and that I was pleased as a peach to part ways amicably.
So much blood in the water.
Going to bed that night it had genuinely seemed to me the two of us had come to accords and were on essentially stable ground going forward—yet after that?
Naught but ghosting and ambient whisper campaigns about me “threatening her”
that and talking about wanting to rape her ig… which I can’t say I remember doing specifically, but I also don’t doubt I did so at SOME point given that at this juncture I’ve probs said some variation of that to half the bitches on Substack. But if I DID say that it was clearly in the context of having talked very very extensively about rape in an aggressive-flirty way where it obviously meant rough sex and normalized the word as an ordinary part of speech, and maintaining that register into an annoyed affect was NOT experienced by her as even the least bit threatening. If it got taken out of context deliberately or renarrativized that’s an Armie Hammer thing and idgaf.
That said she did experience my hypothetical as threatening. That said A) I told her almost immediately I had no intention of acting against her; B) it wasn’t remotely illegal; and C) under my own moral intuitions it wasn’t even unusually escalatory or nefarious contextually given I was already in a Schmittian equilibrium. But w/e.
I mean frankly the ackshully unforgivable crime that night was a lot more about me projecting weakness than it was about any kind of cruelty, which in practice birds are honestly quite coo with. I got flustered and outcome-dependent and then alluded to a consequence I clearly wouldn’t enforce and at no point seriously entertained, even during the many months I was routinely getting slandered in backchannels.
Still I won’t act like a victim about this—I, after all, was the tard who knowingly got on an emotionally fraught phone call and started running my mouth sleep-deprived and filled with meth in a manner that largely ignored—and this was my single most damning failure btw—the compulsive power of ambient, scalable moralistic narratives that epistemically foreclose illegible adversaries and obviate traditionally conceived duty obligations through hypersalient status coding mechanisms and an environment that codes masculine explanation of motives / behavior as untrustworthy. When the only acceptable male position is not saying anything at all strategic omission and post facto frame management by women amounts to intractable narrative hegemony, as even when a man could proffer many exculpatory details it’s basically always game theoretically ideal to just pretend it doesn’t exist and deny the situation oxygen.
And to chickie’s credit, she’d gleamed this shit quite a lot earlier than I had—and boy, did that precognitive synchronic backsolving do all the work it needed to and more.
Needless to say I was heartened when Layla opined to me that her version sounded like spin—a happy accident, perhaps, of the little maid being fully conversant herself by that point in what it ackshully sounds like when Walt talks about raping you. tbh in hindsight tho the whole episode was genuinely quite weird—IIRC the sheilas were still identifying as Best Friends at that point? idk I guess that’s Zoomettes for you.
For her part Layla never stopped being convinced that I was pursuing her specifically to make her fren jealous or w/e—presumably because I was unusually eager to get her on the pod and at last have an excuse to play this splendid jingle I’d written many months beforehand but never quite found any decent opening to deploy.
Perhaps being a retarded teenager the lass was just misreading my state-diplomatic maneuverings to reputationally insulate myself and signal moral rectitude to all of Substack through conspicuous public affiliation with a barely legal art hoe.
And yet it isn’t Layla’s soles / tidders that I continue to admire so very frequently.
Perhaps, then, there’s more to that synchronic agency shit than at first meets the eye.
So:
Most girls are kind of retarded / crazy, and they basically all know that.
They’re also surprisingly fine hearing that a lot of times—provided men acknowledge we ourselves are also quite retarded and crazy in lots of highly salient dimensions.
I mean I for instance am probs more diachronic than basically everyone reading this—which on the one hand is clearly why you’re reading me right now and not the other way around, but is also why I had to get so talented specifically at aestheticizing my way out of these situations that are objectively kind of just retarded and embarrassing.
Because the world isn’t propositionally coherent; mechanistic power / status dynamics explain shit a lot more reliably than basically any alternative schema, and it’s precisely because that shit bothers me more than pretty much anyone I’ve met that I’m such a militant normative nihilist and status / power realist. I increasingly kind of just want to make the world puke on its hypocrisy and fake and gay moralistic window dressing.
On the other hand…
I mean maybe some part of Respecting Women (not in a faggoty way obv but in the way that makes loving them and their pink lil soft and silky pussies halfway tenable) is kind of mythopoetically indulging their gay normative discourse norms because it’s clearly an ambient support pillar of they sanity… without selective moralization girls wouldn’t be able to slide back and forth between Not Responsible and Girlboss, and if I were them I’d be insanely pissy if some autistic substack moid tried to deny me that, so
I mean, I dunno.
Like on some level sentience just feels like a mistake.
Because not to sound super conceited but I ackshully do kind of just think basically all cognition after a certain point does inexorably lead to my worldview or some adjacent variation of it—e.g. lucidity / clarity and a drive for coherence and correspondence-level truth-seeking just make you more angry, more of a grievance-mongering incel, less chill and coo and go with the flow John Mulaney…
tbh I’d be a hell of a lot happier in practice if I had a ~120 IQ like most of you fags.
Retvrn To Monke sort of does make sense, and Teddy K was directionally quite astute.
and proud wordcel though I may be, symbolic representation of the world is kind of inherently doing the woman thing insofar as you’re creating a map over territory and then treating said map as territory, and tbh everyone hates people who don’t just collapse that distinction and instead act super fucking autistic about definitions.
Language itself is on some level a deeply wretched deception mode that’s lowkey kind of perpetually gaslighting the embodied primeape underneath who apprehends the world entirely precognitively not via symbols but through inscrutable intuitions like a woman and perhaps also sort of black people?
On some level, then, I’m tempted to say we either need to:
A) reverse Eden and vomit up the knowledge apple via intentional dysgenics;
B) devise some manner of maximally correspondent and coherent non-normative dialect that doesn’t lead inexorably to autogaslighting;
or
C) kind of just accept the world is Wonderland and justice isn’t analytically possible but you also still have to pretend it is or else you’re Evil incel ick poopoopeepee.
but, idk
This shit is brilliant. You should be proud of yourself. I want to pin this shit to my wall
all the retarded mental gymnastics we have to go through now. Our fathers had it easier when they could just slap they ho and send her to the nervous hospital in a rented car. And she'd come back a week later and you were like a god to her for awhile.
Walt's got it right, but I'm not sure anything less than 130'ish IQ can grok it. Prolly for the best.
Beautifully written. A bona fide art piece. I loved it. 5 boners