The esteemed PA, over Thanksgiving, made the point on his blog that a balance between a realistic appraisal of woman’s nature and natural male romanticism is the healthiest attitude to have as a man. He criticizes Jim (not mentioning him by name, but we all know it is Jim) for dwelling excessively on the cold biomechanics of male-female interaction, calling it

“…repellent, like trying to live our one life with eyes compulsively fixed on the movement of a myriad insect legs in the grass”

He also makes the point that because men are so good at compartmentalizing, they can hold both a hard-nosed biomechanical understanding towards women and a romanticized attitude towards, in this case, his wife, as he fondly recalls the nostalgic early years of their marriage. I agree, in a way. Men are natural romantics, which is precisely why I, and bloggers like me, will hammer home the “soulless biomechanics”. Rather than compartmentalize female hypergamy away from romanticism about women, I actually see them as two sides of the same coin: admire the rose’s beauty, put it to your nose and drink deep, but take care of the thorns! The spiritual nature of women has a dark side.

Like I said, I will talk more about the dark side because it is the least understood and the hardest to accept. It’s a matter of good rhetoric. If I promote a healthy balance, say 50/50 for the sake of discussion, the ravings of this lone madman will be absorbed into a reader’s 95/5 understanding of women and average out to an unhealthy balance. Because no matter what I or Jim say, men will always insist that “this one is different”; the romanticism will creep in. So I will promote the 5/95 understanding, or even a 0/100, because it exerts a stronger pull and makes the reader settle closer to the truth. Basic Overton window.

I have my own anecdote over Thanksgiving, talking to a young man having a few woman problems. He had been “talking to this girl” for a while but hadn’t been able to “make anything happen”. His words. This guy was conversant in red pill topics. He expresses disdain for ‘social justice warriors’, and asked advice on whether or not she was ‘shit testing’ him. But his behavior was totally out of step with what was logically going through his brain. He couldn’t help himself- even though he understood what she was doing, he couldn’t break out of his romanticized programming on how to treat a woman.

My advice to him was along the lines of: “You live in the middle of nowhere. You’re easily the best man within 20 miles, and she knows it too. But every minute that goes by without you making a move, her respect for you goes down.” But it was half-hearted advice because without something happening to truly draw the veil from his eyes, he will act this way around women until his member stops working.

One must be fully disillusioned before he can allow romanticism to creep back in. I was lucky in that regard, or maybe it was because I spent more time in and around women in my younger days. I recall sophomore year in high school, when I was working in the computer lab with headphones on. On, but not listening to music. So I happened to overhear a conversation between a girl I had a crush on, who was sitting next to me, and her friend. These fifteen year old girls were talking about last weekend’s sex party, and more specifically arguing about which of my classmates gave better dick. I asked them jokingly why I wasn’t invited, which game-wise is kind of cringy. (If I could do it again I would’ve said something like “make sure you send two invitations next time, mine must’ve gotten lost in the mail”.) But somewhere inside of me, a little squire in a white cape began to waste away, and a fat bearded biker who only answers to “Daddy” started to rev his engines in the distance.

This anecdote wasn’t enough by itself, but I’ve had a pretty eventful life. The better I got with women, the weaker that little white knight became. I don’t think many men who play it by the book and respec wahmen ever dare plumb the sexual depravity that the weaker sex is capable of. Or if they do, they’re too polite to talk about it. I’m not. Once you get there, and it begins to spiritually disgust you as it did me, the romanticism creeps back in with tender, cautious steps. PA, with all due respect, has the luxury of a little romanticism. He has had a long and fruitful marriage. I forget who it was, but I read a comment on the ‘sphere somewhere that was like

“Make sure your woman understands that she won’t get your full love and respect until your firstborn’s head comes wailing out of her cervix”

That about hits the nail on the head. (I think it was a comment on Heartiste’s blog) By all accounts, PA’s wife has more than proven herself. But he is kind of like a boomer who, having made his wealth when the getting was good, deigns to advise millenials on how to succeed. So Jim, and I, and many others, will continue to look at the insect legs scuttling in the grass, because that insect is carrying a plague, and we are researchers trying to devise a cure.