InanimatePragmatist
There is nothing for your genetics.
- Joined
- Feb 13, 2025
- Posts
- 6,208
- Reputation
- 8,632
Part One: Of All Creatures, Women Understood Best.
It always fascinated me. For a species so ruthlessly driven by subconscious impulse, I did not expect them to admit it so easily. Yet here we are. The only group I’ve spoken to who consistently understood the blackpill, without moralizing, denying, or crying about it. Were women themselves. Yes. The same group that benefits from the system most, that holds the biological power of sexual selection, and the leverage of societal validation. They saw it. Worse, they admitted it. Not in a grand confession or a speech. Just in the silent, passing moments of honesty that occur when masks are briefly lowered. I would ask them. "What did you hate most about men?" None of them answered with the usual fluff about toxicity, aggression, or politics and none of them answered with the usual fluff about toxicity, aggression, or politics.
They simply hated the naivety, the hope and the desperate gleam in the eyes. You know the look. That pathetic shine in a man’s gaze when he thinks maybe, just maybe, she’ll see him for what’s inside. That look of a dog that was beaten and yet still returns to its master, tail wagging, eyes begging. The women? They noticed. They noticed everything. I would bring up the concept of the “beta buxx.” The man who wasn’t good enough in her youth but will foot the bill later. The emotional landfill she uses after burning her prime years with the men who gave her dopamine and dopamine alone and every woman I spoke to? They nodded. They agreed. Some smiled. Some didn’t even flinch with a chuckle or a laugh. One even said, “Well, what else are they good for?”
You see, women don’t despise ugliness as much as they despise men who are unaware of their ugliness. That’s the fatal error. Not being low status but acting like you’re not. The delusion is what repels. Not the rank. A deluded janitor is more disgusting to them than a self-aware hermit. At least the hermit does not show himself at all for him to be even disliked let alone acknowledged. Women instinctively value hierarchy. They are built to detect it, navigate it, and exploit it. When a man refuses to accept his position in it? He becomes a farce. A clown with hope painted on his face. There is nothing more repulsive to them than misplaced hope. Ironically, they are not the enemy. They are simply a mirror, a brutal one. A mirror that reflects back to man what nature has carved into his flesh before birth.
If you cannot stomach it, you will rage at them. But if you listen, if you truly listen, you will see: They are not confused, they know what they want, they know what they hate and they hate the dreamers. Yet I say, why wouldn't they? The world doesn’t belong to dreams. It belongs to those who know their place, and move accordingly.
Part Two: The God That Sends You a Used Gift.
There’s something I noticed early on. Something most men ignore until it’s too late. I used to be religious. I was apart of the WASP group and I really liked being a loyal KJV rulebook-repeater. I believed, I trusted, I obeyed. Yet I never knew why I followed. I only really followed for the sake of community before I left once the blackpill changed my mind. Then there is the other religious men. They thought that if you waited long enough, prayed hard enough, and “worked on yourself,” You would be rewarded? That some divine woman of purity will come to this world and will be your counterpart that would descend from the heavens, pure and patient, because God loves His loyal men.
Do you know what the women around me thought? They thought it was pathetic. Not because they were atheists. Some were, others weren’t. That wasn’t the point. What was the point, was that they saw right through the lie, that religion was the average man's emotional crutch. That God was the imaginary father they kept begging for permission and blessings from because the real world refused to hand them either. They respected me more the moment I left religion. When I shed the naive hope that “God has a plan” and saw that the only plan was natural law, they began to listen. Not just hear me, but listen. Because now, I wasn’t just another vessel of wasted potential clinging to old dogma like a drowning sailor to driftwood. I became something different, self-aware. It is why I have go outside more. Do not get me wrong. I still dislike everyone but the women? They seem to get along with me just fine. Even if I say horrible things, they could not care less. Interesting. Yet they understand what I say so well. What if they are born like this? Just aware of such truth? Or at least to a degree? Maybe one day we can find out.
Here’s the part that’s going to sting for the believers. What does God send down to the devout modern man? A woman? Sure. But which one? The convert, the reformed girl~ The reborn one who laid with ten, twenty men. Who only now wants to be serious right after the fun has ended. You pray for a virgin. God sends you a veteran.
You dream of loyalty, He gives you a rehab project. The worst part of it all? You’re expected to thank Him for it. As if it’s a blessing. As if it’s anything but what it truly is: a participation trophy in divine gaslighting. You see, religion wasn’t the problem. Delusion was. God did not promise you anything. You just couldn’t accept that the game was rigged from the start. You want to talk about purity? Women laugh at the idea. You’re not getting the untouched. You're not even getting the gently used. You're getting what's left after the men who mattered left and you’ll be called a misogynist for noticing. You'll be accused of bitterness for telling the truth. Deep down? Even the most “saved” women know. They know you are not their first. Not their second. You are their safe choice. The safe choice is not the desired one. It is the tolerated one. So let me ask you again, holy, jihadi, juden, crusader man. Is that truly God's gift to you? Or did you just cope your way into buying another man's lease return?
You chose the cross. She chose the carousel. Now you’re kneeling together at the altar, as equals?
Spare me.
It always fascinated me. For a species so ruthlessly driven by subconscious impulse, I did not expect them to admit it so easily. Yet here we are. The only group I’ve spoken to who consistently understood the blackpill, without moralizing, denying, or crying about it. Were women themselves. Yes. The same group that benefits from the system most, that holds the biological power of sexual selection, and the leverage of societal validation. They saw it. Worse, they admitted it. Not in a grand confession or a speech. Just in the silent, passing moments of honesty that occur when masks are briefly lowered. I would ask them. "What did you hate most about men?" None of them answered with the usual fluff about toxicity, aggression, or politics and none of them answered with the usual fluff about toxicity, aggression, or politics.
They simply hated the naivety, the hope and the desperate gleam in the eyes. You know the look. That pathetic shine in a man’s gaze when he thinks maybe, just maybe, she’ll see him for what’s inside. That look of a dog that was beaten and yet still returns to its master, tail wagging, eyes begging. The women? They noticed. They noticed everything. I would bring up the concept of the “beta buxx.” The man who wasn’t good enough in her youth but will foot the bill later. The emotional landfill she uses after burning her prime years with the men who gave her dopamine and dopamine alone and every woman I spoke to? They nodded. They agreed. Some smiled. Some didn’t even flinch with a chuckle or a laugh. One even said, “Well, what else are they good for?”
You see, women don’t despise ugliness as much as they despise men who are unaware of their ugliness. That’s the fatal error. Not being low status but acting like you’re not. The delusion is what repels. Not the rank. A deluded janitor is more disgusting to them than a self-aware hermit. At least the hermit does not show himself at all for him to be even disliked let alone acknowledged. Women instinctively value hierarchy. They are built to detect it, navigate it, and exploit it. When a man refuses to accept his position in it? He becomes a farce. A clown with hope painted on his face. There is nothing more repulsive to them than misplaced hope. Ironically, they are not the enemy. They are simply a mirror, a brutal one. A mirror that reflects back to man what nature has carved into his flesh before birth.
If you cannot stomach it, you will rage at them. But if you listen, if you truly listen, you will see: They are not confused, they know what they want, they know what they hate and they hate the dreamers. Yet I say, why wouldn't they? The world doesn’t belong to dreams. It belongs to those who know their place, and move accordingly.
Part Two: The God That Sends You a Used Gift.
There’s something I noticed early on. Something most men ignore until it’s too late. I used to be religious. I was apart of the WASP group and I really liked being a loyal KJV rulebook-repeater. I believed, I trusted, I obeyed. Yet I never knew why I followed. I only really followed for the sake of community before I left once the blackpill changed my mind. Then there is the other religious men. They thought that if you waited long enough, prayed hard enough, and “worked on yourself,” You would be rewarded? That some divine woman of purity will come to this world and will be your counterpart that would descend from the heavens, pure and patient, because God loves His loyal men.
Do you know what the women around me thought? They thought it was pathetic. Not because they were atheists. Some were, others weren’t. That wasn’t the point. What was the point, was that they saw right through the lie, that religion was the average man's emotional crutch. That God was the imaginary father they kept begging for permission and blessings from because the real world refused to hand them either. They respected me more the moment I left religion. When I shed the naive hope that “God has a plan” and saw that the only plan was natural law, they began to listen. Not just hear me, but listen. Because now, I wasn’t just another vessel of wasted potential clinging to old dogma like a drowning sailor to driftwood. I became something different, self-aware. It is why I have go outside more. Do not get me wrong. I still dislike everyone but the women? They seem to get along with me just fine. Even if I say horrible things, they could not care less. Interesting. Yet they understand what I say so well. What if they are born like this? Just aware of such truth? Or at least to a degree? Maybe one day we can find out.
Here’s the part that’s going to sting for the believers. What does God send down to the devout modern man? A woman? Sure. But which one? The convert, the reformed girl~ The reborn one who laid with ten, twenty men. Who only now wants to be serious right after the fun has ended. You pray for a virgin. God sends you a veteran.
You dream of loyalty, He gives you a rehab project. The worst part of it all? You’re expected to thank Him for it. As if it’s a blessing. As if it’s anything but what it truly is: a participation trophy in divine gaslighting. You see, religion wasn’t the problem. Delusion was. God did not promise you anything. You just couldn’t accept that the game was rigged from the start. You want to talk about purity? Women laugh at the idea. You’re not getting the untouched. You're not even getting the gently used. You're getting what's left after the men who mattered left and you’ll be called a misogynist for noticing. You'll be accused of bitterness for telling the truth. Deep down? Even the most “saved” women know. They know you are not their first. Not their second. You are their safe choice. The safe choice is not the desired one. It is the tolerated one. So let me ask you again, holy, jihadi, juden, crusader man. Is that truly God's gift to you? Or did you just cope your way into buying another man's lease return?
You chose the cross. She chose the carousel. Now you’re kneeling together at the altar, as equals?
Spare me.
