I was chatting on Facebook to Bodi this afternoon. He’s just wrapped up a trip to South America and is now visiting a friend in Asia. As he’s written about extensively in hissuicide note book, Bodi is a chronic procrastinator. Back in London in 2013, before daygaming he’d often lay several t-shirts on his bed trying to decide what to wear and while I waited in the lounge impatiently tapping my foot, he’d be experimenting with more costume changes than a Janet Jackson concert.
I’ve always been exasperated by indecisive people. Life is really simple – decide what you want to do and then go do it. Don’t worry about failure. Don’t worry about what people think. Just do it*
That got me thinking about from whence decisiveness comes. It’s a fundamentally masculine trait. We’ve all seen how women just cluck and squeak, chasing their own tails until a man comes along and leads them. Why is that?
Bodi said his 2014/15 testosterone replacement therapy has made a massive difference in his decisiveness, such that he’s ended a dry spell by knobbing six birds in two months. Rather than sit around like a faggot on dates he’s been putting the moves on. Decisiveness.
So at least in part, decisiveness is influenced by your T-level. What else? I find it extremely easy to go out and take decisive action when an activity meets the following criteria:
I know I have the ability (or at least have a path to develop that ability)
The worst case scenario doesn’t scare me**
Applying that to daygame is pretty obvious. We want to fuck hot girls. We’ve seen on YouTube and Daygame Overkill how effective seduction looks. There are books that explain step-by-step how to develop the ability*** And of course it’s not too tough to mentally prepare yourself to accept the worst-case eye roll blowout. Add all that together and you can hit the streets and take decisive action.
A vision of success, yesterday
Of course it’s not quite that simple, but that’s the crux of it. When I started daygame in 2009 we didn’t have anything for 2) and 3). You guys have it easy!
Those of you who also read Danger & Play and Bold & Determined (and if you don’t, you should at least try them) will note how Mike and Victor’s decisiveness shines through in the very language they write. They are also rather productive guys, always working a new hustle. I see many commentors marvel at their workrate.
Is that workrate really so impressive? Not really.
It’s the natural outcome of having nurtured their decisive mindsets. I’ll bet ONE MILLION DOLLARS**** that Mike and Victor don’t actually feel they are working especially hard. Decisive action is energising. You might as well be asking happy kids stomping around the sandpit if they are “working especially hard”.
I’ve had a very productive winter.
I’ve been working on a secret (non-pickup) side project that has consumed hours per day for months. I’ve almost finished writing a new 150,000 word book. I’ve been hitting the gym. I’ve read a book per week. And I’ve still had time to complete several big video games. In each case I didn’t rely on any “hacks” for time efficiency. I didn’t need a “four hour workweek” plan. I didn’t even need willpower. Instead I just figured out what I wanted, formed the vision of how the completed goal looks, and then walked towards it.
School and corporate life conditions you to believe a high workrate is the product of self-discipline, willpower and sacrifice. Only if you’re doing something you hate. If you want it and have the vision, you’ll take decisive action without feeling like it’s work at all.*****
* There’s probably a marketing slogan in that. I might trademark it. ** I should add that I’m so tough that nothing scares me. That bullet point was just for all my pussy readers. *** Customary Daygame Mastery plug. **** Of fantasy internet currency
***** Case in point is this blogpost. It took me fifteen minutes from conception to publication. I had unified the four criteria so the words tumbled out. Easy.
This is particularly important for daygamers due to the introversion, stubborness and obsessiveness that tends to characterise them. Put simply, many daygamers start out Gamma and then after prolonged grinding and introspection they become Sigma*. I don’t think nightgame sees such obvious clusters of these personality types. Gammas are also extremely common among Sci-Fi and Fantasy fans, genres where Vox made his name as a novelist, so it’s perhaps unsurprisingly that he was the first to identify the type. I thoroughly recommend you read him. So, what characterises the Gamma male? Two things, I think:
“Secret king” delusions of grandeur.
These drive it and then all their other behaviours fall into place as you interpret then as attempts for the Gamma male to unsuccessfully reconcile them with reality. Let’s break it down.
Women deal with emotions rather than facts. They are naturally solipsistic, interpreting everything through the prism of “what does this mean to me?” Thus they’ll think if you are talking to them you must be talking about them. They’ll assume if you attack their ideas in an argument you are attacking them as a person. Because they believe themselves to be the centre of the world, they assume everyone thinks exactly how they do and therefore women project their own priorities and motivations onto other people – if it’s in my interests, it’s in the common interest. Lastly, no amount of evidence can ever overturn their own personal anecdote – this is how it happened in my experience, therefore this is how it happens everywhere always.
Gamma males think like women. I suspect it’s due to overly feminised upbringings such being children of a FemDom-MaleSub marriage, anti-male schooling, an early avoidance of competitive sports, and low testosterone.
“my personal term Number Farming”
There’s a male totem-pole for almost every activity – sports, politics, money, sex. Men naturally sort themselves into hierarchies, usually based on each member’s usefulness to the group project. If you’re good at what the group is trying to accomplish you get promoted and lavished with respect. If you’re a dead weight, you’re the goalkeeper. These hierarchies are based on performance, and they require other people to comply with you. You can’t simply declare yourself high-born and slot in at the top. The other men won’t tolerate it.
Gamma males are much too precious to accept their lowly position on the totem pole. They seeth with resentment over it and look for any way at all to climb up the pole – any way except through improved performance in the group’s task, that is. This makes Gamma males a source of instability. The Alpha/Beta/Omega hierarchy is stable because all know their place and accept how ranking battles take place: Alphas make power plays, Betas ace perfromance tests, and Omegas show willingness to carry out the drudge work without bitching. Gammas cheat and scheme.
This is why so many movies use the gamma archetype as the sneaky back-stabbing social climber figure (think the treacherous vizier in the king’s court, or the jealous weasel among the group of survivors in the zombie movie). Stories require drama and gamma males are the rogue internal element that upsets a previously stable social arrangement. If the beseiging horde overruns your castle or the zombies stream through a breach in the boarded-up windows, you can bet it was the gamma who let them in because he’s jealous of the team’s alpha.
Vox has made a number of predictions about how Gammas will interact, though unfortunately he hasn’t collected them all in one place so I can’t simply link to a page. As I remember it, they include:
Gammas will actively pick fights they can’t win against higher-ranking men. This is because the Secret King can’t accept that nobody appreciates his value but being feminised they don’t really understand how men handle conflict. Their risk assessment is faulty, like a belligerent woman screaming “you can’t hit me I’m a girl” before she’s decked on WorldStarHipHop.
Gammas can’t back down from these fights because that means admitting defeat, which goes against the Secret King belief. Also, everything is too personal, being feminised. So rather than slink away from a beating they have to keep running their mouth and keep getting beaten up.
Gammas will lie, spin, and employ sophistry to maintain the illusion of winning when obviously losing. The evidence doesn’t actually support the winning, so it’s avoided, but they don’t realise how transparent their defeat is.
Gammas use the feminised debating tactic of tackle the man not the ball. They will directly insult in order to create badfeelz, because they project their own fear of badfeelz and assume their opponent is similarly wounded by it.
There’s lots more, so do check out Vox’s blog. The reason I bring it up today is I had a Twitter encounter yesterday in which a prize Gamma specimen decided to have a go at me for no reason whatsoever (cf. force of instablity). I brushed him off first time, but he wouldn’t stop. So I checked my feed and saw he’d tried it on the previous week too – totally uncalled for insults barely related to subject at hand. That got me curious so I checked his blog and saw a video of him running his mouth about being a dating expert.
My first thought on hearing him talk was “gamma”. Then I noticed the Japanese writing on the truck behind him and saw he lives in Osaka as an English teacher (the dream job of every gamma male). A bit more digging and I saw zero evidence he’s ever fucked a hot girl and his actual daygame advice seems to be “say hello and hope Asian girl has white man fetish”. Okay, let’s have some fun, I think. Here’s the full exchange. I’ve had to copy paste a bit, but if you suspect I’ve reordered or edited to push a narrative then just go directly to my Twitter feed and you’ll see the original tweets and timestamps.
NB – Gammas are always twats. It’s really hard not to instinctively hate them. Vox likes to toy with them because they are so predictable.
Here are my thoughts on a recent video making the rounds. I do suggest you watch it as the guy has put a lot of effort into building his theory and then figuring out how to present it clearly. He’s offering value and it is worth trying. However, I think he makes some serious miscues – mainly because of who he is and who he’s talking to. Like Jack Nicholson’s famous line to Tom Cruise: “You can’t handle the truth!” It’s a poster boy for the Purple Pill (a marketing ruse to use the credibility of red pill truths but water them down with blue pill illusions so that the listener isn’t required to stare into the abyss)
The 21 Convention has always been the Chump Convention. A room full of credible chumps lectured to by a stageful of posturing pseudo-intellectuals and PUA fakers. So, it’s with a shivering unease that I considered giving ninety minutes of my life to watching one of their speakers following a recommendation in the comments. I first skimmed through, clicking along the ninety-minute bar to see if it looked interesting. I’ve been burned way too many times into wasting my time on rubbish PUA nonsense (the brown Wayne brothers, I’m looking at you).
On walks a fat bald guy with bad fashion against a David DeAngelo type background. “Hi, my name is Socrates.”
I initially suspect he’s identifying more with the philosopher than the footballer, and that it’s hardly a modest start either way, but his bio says it’s actually his birth name. Okay, can’t hold that against him. Nonetheless he comes across rather pompous, like a Blue Pill Rollo – this will turn out to be closer to the truth than I first imagine. I’m not really against a bit of pomp in a public speaker (I do like irrationally confident people) but I do find myself asking “What’s his credibility?” I don’t actually know the answer to that. He just doesn’t feel credible. An armchair philosopher.
Nick, don’t jump to conclusions, I tell myself. Give him a chance. His ideas might be good enough to render such initial impressions meaningless. His first slide is a picture of some beta chump kissing some reasonably pretty girl, like the poster photo for a Hollywood rom-com. Right from one minute in he’s setting the prize as a monogamous relationship. Okay, that’s setting the bar low. “This isn’t something easily acheived…. You have to find a partner willing to commit to this.” O…..kay.
As I find over the remaining minutes, the purpose of his talk is to re-affirm to the audience what Rollo calls men’s burden of performance. A man must work hard to earn his right to intimacy. Every day. Sustained every day as a process requiring agency.
We then begin on the meat of the talk, outlining the sexual marketplace and the language continues to confuse. I’m not against a bit of intellectual mind-wank but you’ve got to go somewhere with it. This starts off heavy with the mind-wank and needlessly verbose. He’s just telling us the obvious, dressed up in latin-derived unusual words. It’s just S&R value from Mystery Method made opaque. I can save you the first hour with one sentence: Figure out if you need to boost either your alpha or beta traits, and then do so.
Socrates defines alpha as the traits we players generally consider as “sexiness”, which I agree with. However he wants to sell “provider” / sucker traits too because he’s in the Chump Convention and that’s what his audience wants to hear. So most of the next hour is spent finding ways to redefine the attractive men having sex with hotties as somehow limited or damaged, so his audience can feel superior with their chump traits.
For example he brings out the male-dom/fem-sub dynamic and the importance of conflict in nature as we all struggle to survive and replicate. Great, I agree. But then he poo-poos it as not being a nice place to be. Well, the world is struggle. He knows the chodes in the audience don’t want conflict and dominance, they want to be told there’s still a place for unicorns and rainbows. So he introduces the concept of virtue. This is a go-to throughout the talk to baby-talk the chumps.
“Nature’s a bitch. Nature’s a deadly violent place” he says and I agree. But I don’t agree that “the people who live on this domain are equally brutish and violent.” No. Human tribes co-operate into win-win behaviours in order to lift themselves out of it and create stability. That’s also pretty well established in both the biology literature and the game theory literature. Pretty much everyone has these latter traits, except for the small number of people with outright behavioural disorders. He contrasts nature along the x axis with civilisation up his y axis. That’s where virtue resides.
It’s still very wordy. Simple anglo-derived words are not used when there’s an unweildy latin-derived one that could replace it. I appreciate his wish to stablise language and be precise but it’s sounding little different to the 1950s functionalist sociology – an empty structure of interconnected words devoid of real meaning. The power of the logic comes from it’s tautological nature of carving up a chessboard that only dimly resembles the battlefield it’s meant to represent.
He’s pushing strongly that the “vertical domain” of civilisation is where you have to live, because it’s virtuous. And here we are getting to the main limiting factor of the model – he’s feeding the chodes’ desire to use virtue as a cloak to disguise their low SMV and inability to compete.
Beta traits are NOT virtue. To say they are is a sleight of hand. Beta is SMV failure. Beta is sacrificing yourself for the team because you have to. Hot young women only care about alpha traits. Beta traits exist in another dimension entirely and only become useful in preparing the beta male as the parachute for a woman hitting the Wall. Presenting this vertical domain as a component of SMV is pushing water uphill, literally in his graph. More muddying of waters follows.
“Men and women equally display alpha traits.” I know he is precisely defining his version of alpha for the purposes of the talk, but that’s just misleading. There is no alpha in the female side. Just replication value, which is mostly youth and hotness. It’s wrong to say Beta traits are what makes the world safe to raise families. Alphas are leaders who organise and bring the group together to pacify the land and defend it from outside invaders. Think Donald Trump and immigration. Alpha is inherently important to the whole tribe’s ability to make the world safe to raise families, which is why the whole tribe doesn’t just tolerate alphas but it follows them. Betas don’t have a monopoly on it.
His high beta / low alpha guys have a strength per his formulation: teamwork, stablity, handling relationships etc. I think that’s baby-talking his audience of chodes who reside here. Really, they aren’t there due to strengths, these are just compensations for overall weakness. Team Beta pulls together. Really the beta traits he’s describing as strengths are co-dependence and people-pleasing – weaknesses in the SMP (even if they can be strengths in nation building at times).
His advice is to build everything up so you move yourself towards the top-right quadrant. It’s kinda true that if you’re high in Y (beta) then shifting along right-wards with more X (alpha) is the path to success. What’s nottrue is that people high in X need to add Y. If you’re already strong it’s bad advice to introduce weakness. I get to this in a minute.
17 minutes in he starts mapping familiar territories to their places on the graph, correctly identifying the friendzone. The problem is that this graph requires the friendzone to occupy one location. The reality is the friendzone is relative to the quality of the girl you’re chasing, your competition, her preferences, and her position in the life cycle. It’s more dynamic than a simple category. In his defence, that’s bloody hard to represent on a graph so I’ll give him a pass. While it’s true that you can always stay out of the friendzone, it’s also true that often you do so by never talking to the girl again rather than by fucking her.
19 minutes in he defines high SMV as “emptiness and charm” and puts it as fuck buddies. This is more sleight of hand, trying to bring virtue in to an SMV calculation. This is the centrepoint of selling his presentation to the weaselling chodes. Women really don’t care about virtue. I’m reminded of Dalrock’s post here:
“this paradigm is almost certainly crucial to his friend’s view of himself as a man with a high Sexual Market Value (SMV) and especially Marriage Market Value (MMV). The twisted thinking goes like this:
– Women are attracted to good and noble men.
– I am better and more noble than other men.
– Therefore I am more attractive than other men.
There is of course one small problem with this line of reasoning, which is that the women around Hank’s friend aren’t acting in a way that would suggest that they find him attractive. At the same time, the women around Hank’s friend are demonstrating attraction for unworthy men. This must mean that less worthy men than Hank’s friend are tricking women, essentially impersonating him. These fakers are getting in the way of women realizing how attractive he really is.”
I think this is where I really disagree. Socrates wants to make the real high-SMV men into sociopaths and psychopaths in order to clear them out the way of the mid-SMV men he wants to elevate into their position. “These are dangerous individuals. I’m not kidding.” he warns.
Ok, I think, he’s never fucked a hot girl. Men who fuck hot women don’t feel the need to disparage the other men who do. They “get it”. They know all women like sex and all will sometimes have casual sex.
The individualist Alphas are not pulling their weight for Team Beta and so he’s calling them genetically damaged: “They can’t help themselves.” I think there’s a tell here about not understanding Game. He’s talking like men only get laid off the back of physical characteristics and dominance – Game is all dark triad and looks. After briefly saying the alphas are charming he later acts like they are socially awkward (putting the “awkardness zone” as the X-axis equivalent of the Y-axis “creepy zone”)….. okay. He later says these people need to learn pro-social behaviours to move themselves further into success.
No, they just need to change objectives – they aren’t lacking the skills.
So he’s subtly letting his chump audience position themselves above these high-SMV alphas. How very gamma. As if getting casual sex with hot girls is evil. With those pesky alphas neutered Socrates can move on to describe his happy place, the dating zone. That’s the happy place because ultimately he’s selling try-hard monogamy to gamma chodes. “This is the natural position of mankind” he stastes and therefore he has to define everyone outside the happy place as damaged. He just doesn’t get r/K as permanent and fluctuating strategies.
Up towards the top-right of the graph – high enough to be badass but not so high as to be unattainable – is the “marriage potential” zone. I wondered if the marriage potential area is so small, how come most people in the history of the West managed to get there? And why is he selling marriage as the goal to a room of men when surely it’s women who are desperate for the ring? It’s because in Socrates’ world the man has a burden of performance and he’s raising the next cohort of suckers.
“If you commit outside this range, you are betraying virtue.”
I press on. I think fundamentally his problem is he’s got a purity fantasy: “I’m here to shame”. He doesn’t get that casual sex is fun and consensual, that it can occur between emotionally balanced people who do it because they like it, rather than from personal dysfunction. That’s not allowed because then the virtue sleight of hand loses it’s power. If you want to tell people to be virtuous, great. Do so. But don’t tell them being virtuous raised your SMV. It doesn’t.
The talk is not all bad, mind. He’s right about where creepy and awkward are located. He’s half-right about creepy is an obstacle right at the beginning of your journey – yes, but only once you start hitting on girls or trying to be taken seriously. You can actually do the groundwork of gym / fashion and general social skills withouth encountering creepy. That only comes once you want to take some value back.
It’s a conceit 29 minutes in that the people having lots of casual sex want to enter the dating zone but are frozen out by lack of beta traits. No, only the women might be frozen out. Men who are having sex can enter the relationship zone any time they damn well please. But he can’t say that because that’s admitting the central truth the chodes don’t want to hear: the guys having sex have higher SMV in every way. All the stuff chodes have (money, listening skills etc) isn’t relevant. The chodes don’t have a single advantage. In the SMP they are simply lower value in every way.
“The work they [casual sex guys] have to do is the same as the other side [the chodes]”. Really? C’mon let that sink in and ask if it sounds convincing or if it’s just part of selling system to chumps.
You can’t derive ought from is, but he’s using ought to hamstring his model of is. He’s smart to say nature locates narcissism in teenage because it’s effective to breed and that’s when you need it. So what’s the obvious lesson? He wants you to fight it. Not harness it, but fight it. I disagree.
This talk is clearly to Team Beta on advising them how to be better betas.
33 minutes in he’s wrong. Hot girls with limited beta traits canget relationships, they just have to revise expectations towards thirstier guys or seek out chumps. And really, “don’t be a cunt” isn’t such a high bar for their beta traits. There are also different niches of relationship, from intimate soul mates to kept woman that a hot-but-annoying girl can use.
Socrates needs to paint alphas with low-beta as damaged. Really he’s talking about behaviour disorders rather than a lack of skill. He uses War Machine as an example – a total knacker (not a “world class MMA fighter”) who is “banging porn stars left and right” – so a bottom feeder. That’s not a guy with high-alpha. War Machine is just a roid monkey with issues. Ironically, he’s right that War Machine had no ground game – but it’s true literally, not in his sense. It’s an enduring manosphere myth that jail is full of alphas. No, it’s full of imbeciles.
By forty minutes I had to turn off. My impression is it’s a half-decent exposition of manosphere truisms twisted to make the Chump Convention crowd feel good with a purple pill. Did I miss something in the rest of the talk? Really, maybe the second half resolves all my issues. I’d like to know, but can’t be bothered to watch it.
Brad is sitting on a plush leather sofa in his flashy bachelor pad in the hippest part of town. His eyelids droop as he pours himself a slug of 20-year Scottish whiskey that cost £100 for the bottle. It’s worth it. Damn fine whiskey. He swills the brown liquid around the glass, revelling in the crackle and pop coming from the ice cubes.
Ah, this is the life!
He’s tired because he just finished another tough ten hour day at the law firm. He’s put in a solid four years at Saul White & Pinkman Associates. That’s on top of the three years at his training firm. Brad just hit 32 so he’s in the prime of his life. He’ll still make it to the gym tomorrow morning. He’ll still measure out all his supplements and weigh his food. A shot of whiskey won’t put a dent in his rock hard body. He’s been training five years now and looks great. Not quite a six pack but he’s pretty buff. Brad prides himself on his mental discipline and ability to carry through on a personal commitment to his lifeplan.
As he’s reading through the internet, he’s nodding his head. Satisfied. He’s reading City Alpha Lifestyle blog and there’s an article: 5 Reasons You Ain’t Alpha. He chuckles as he realises the first four reasons don’t apply to him. He’s buff. He’s got money. He’s dominant in his social circle. He’s wearing good clothes.
Unfortunately it’s that last reason that does apply and it bothers him: He hasn’t fucked many hot women.
Well, how could he? He’s been working sixty hour weeks most of the last ten years. When the weekend finally rolls round he’s just going to cool bars with his buddies. The career chicks who go there aren’t much to look at (or talk to). Most of his spare time is in the gym, or reading motivational material. There’s not really any time or opportunity to meet girls. The only hot girls he sees are walking down the street or sitting having coffee – and how’s he supposed to talk to them? I mean, what do you say?
It’s not so bad though. He hasn’t been truly single for more than a few months in all these years. He always seems to find his way into a relationship – at a party, at dance class, at a business trip – and the girls are quite pretty. He’s even had a few adventurous one-night stands. Indeed he’s fucked maybe twenty girls, more than double most of his friends. It’s just a shame they nearly all insist on fancy restaurants, making him wait, and then those interminable weekends in the parks, beaches and Ikea.
“No worries”, Brad thinks smugly. “I’m entering the prime of my life – Rollo told me so – so at some undefined point in the future the hotties will flock to me.”
Adam is also sitting on a sofa tonight but it’s worn and squeaky. His small loft conversion is in a grungier part of town but that’s where the best nightlife is, so it’s exactly where he wants to be. His eyelids droop as he pours himself a slug of Jack Daniels that cost £25 for the bottle. It’s nice. He sets the glass down and lights a joint, rolling the smoke around his mouth before inhaling it to his lungs.
Ah, this is the life!
He’s tired because he just woke up. He works nights mostly and sometimes early mornings, depending on the shifts at the bar-tending job and the warehouse job he juggles to meet rent. He’s 32 and has lived in the area most of the last ten years. So he knows everyone and has a bit of a rep as one of the cooler local guys. It’s a late shift tomorrow so he’ll be working on his music all afternoon. He started learning guitar as a teenager and after fifteen years cycling in and out of various punk, indie and now rock bands he’s pretty good at it. His tattoos are still pretty cool and it doesn’t matter much that his body is turning to skinny-fat at a young age.
He’s also reading through the internet, nodding his head in satisfaction. He’s reading Dangerous Horizons blog and there’s an article he likes: 5 Reasons You’re Not Cool. He chuckles as he realises the first four reasons don’t apply to him. He’s badass. He’s got a big social circle. He doesn’t answer to anyone (except his bosses, but those jobs aren’t so important to him). He is the life of the party. Unfortunately it’s that last reason that does apply and it bothers him. He stares at it again and again, trying to figure out why:
You don’t get to date and fuck the girls you like.
Hmmmmmm. What’s wrong with that statement? Adam does a mental check. “I’ve fucked 160 girls” he counts, but then he adds “but most of them were pretty grotty.” Then his eyes light up. “That said, Talisa was hot. And Sophie. And Angela” and there’s a faint murmur in his heart as he recalls some nights of fantastic sex. The lights fade when he thinks “but they just chose me and I took what I was given. I wish that would happen more.”
“And Talisa was a fucked-up BPD loon” he remembers, and shudders.
He’s done well though, he reminds himself. Much much better than most people. Okay, so he’s completely sacrificed any chance of making money and living comfortably in his middle age. Okay, so he’s never going to be truly famous and be an alpha like Leonardo DiCaprio or Keith Richards – guys who truly do date and fuck whoever they like. And his tattooed bartender schtick will be decreasingly cool as he ages and all those nights maintaining the hip social circle will start to wear on him. But he’s had lots of fun and there’s still lots more fun to be had.
Brad and Adam are pretty happy with their lives. Years ago they plotted an “in” to women and then dedicated themselves tirelessly to it. Adding it all up, one way or another it’s been nigh on seventy hours a week each, for fifteen years. But that’s fine, because the “lifestyle” is paying off.
Simultaneously, ten miles apart, they both set down their whiskey glasses and stumble across the same article on a little-known site called krauserpua.com. They have the same instinctive reaction deep in their gut best described as “have I missed a trick?”. That gnawing fear recedes as they realise their own lives are still pretty damn good. Nonetheless they can’t help shake the feeling that if only they knew how to cold approach they’d quickly resolve that one nagging issue from the list of five.
Fortunately that entire emotional cycle takes about ten seconds and never really penetrates their consciousness. Simultaneously, ten miles apart, comes a booming clang and the heavy doors of two grandiose egos slam down the shutters together. And then a new reaction springs forth.
“Fuck me, have you seen this clown???? Hardly any money, normal body, no “lifestyle” at all. And he’s running up and down the street chasing girls like some creepy PUA. What a fucking idiot! Hahaha can’t he see what low value behaviour that is: dedicating ten hours a week, for five years, to enjoying nice conversations, dates and sex with beautiful women.
Ooooooooooo-kay, so he reckons in 2015 the average age of girl is 21 (19 years younger than him) and the average meet-to-lay is two hours. And yes, they are mostly good girls and all pretty. And yes, he gets to travel all around the world and sleep as much as he likes. And yes, he’s always choosing the girls he likes.
But, but but…… it’s so inefficient!
What a loser! Dedicating all that time and effort trying to get laid.”
Brad and Adam decide they will type in a comment to tell him precisely how much of a loser he is. And then they’ll retire to bed and ponder how awesome their lifestyle is.
Back in December 2014 I got a call from a production company working for the BBC. They were making a reality TV show about a young man trying a bunch of different activities to make him more masculine. Picking up girls would be part of it and one episode entirely about daygame. Did I want to be his daygame coach?
No thank you. Why would I want to be on TV? I’m not a woman, nor a faggot.
Not sure if woman or faggot. But definitely TV.
They kept on at me and finally we agreed terms. They’d pay for me to come down to London, put me up in a hotel for the weekend, book a room, set up the cameras and lighting. My job was to get six students of the right demographic, do a presentation, then take their guy infield for a few hours. Seemed easy enough. Knowing that I was dealing with a TV production company, I thought it almost certain they’d be:
So I got their producer on Skype and recorded her promising I could bring my own cameraman and release my own footage in the event I thought their edit was a hatchet job. I asked if she minded if I release the seminar footage recorded by my own cameraman myself. “So long as it’s after we broadcast, no problem, but we can’t give you the footage from our camera.” Win-win. They get their show and I get a product.
Those of you who’ve read Aesop’s fable about the frog and the scorpion will guess what happened next. Being clowns-SJW-dishonest they just couldn’t helping fucking with the whole thing. First of all they demanded the seminar be shot on Friday – when everyone has work or uni. Then all the students had to be aged 18-25 and new to daygame. I explained how my readers are older and most people don’t hear about me until they’ve already been doing sets.
Then they required everyone agree to be interviewed on TV. I explained how the community is mostly anonymous so they agreed this wasn’t important…. and then went back on it immediately, contacting my students and bullying them to agree.
Having explicitly agreed I had full control of the seminar and content (“we just want to be flies on the wall, seeing the event like it normally is”) they soon started acting like it was their seminar, telling me what I was and wasn’t allowed to do. I soon corrected them on that, sending this email:
I’m happy to do the date bit after you leave, but it has to be a reasonable time. Remember I’m coming down from Newcastle to do a special one-off seminar for you that I had to organise in a hurry, with narrow specifications on the attendees, on a difficult day, and I’m not getting paid beyond minimum expenses. So, I’m insistent that I get to do it my way, within reason. Remember I’m not on your payroll and I answer only to myself.
Finally it got to the point that I was ready to bin them. Two days before the event I was finally sent my train ticket. Just before boarding the train the day before I was given my hotel reservation, and by the evening before they still hadn’t told me the venue. There’s a reason these people are interning in media production companies for peanuts rather than earning mad stacks in the finance industry, after all.
Head producer, artist impression
Back in December they told me their “researchers” liked my material and blog. I sent the producer a free login to Daygame Overkill in January. It seems those crack researchers didn’t discover my twitter until the night before the event. I got a pompous faggot (“head producer” or something) call me late on while I was in the pub with Bojangles and Ramy.
Faggot: Am I speaking to Nick Krauser? Me: Yes Faggot: I am to understand we are supposed to be filming with you tomorrow. Me: Yes Faggot: Well, we are cancelling you. Me: Ok Faggot: [expectant pause while I don’t ask why] We read your Twitter. Me: Ok Faggot: [longer pause while I don’t complain or explain] We don’t want to be associated with people like you. Me: Ok Faggot: [longer pause again] Yes. So. We’re cancelling you. Me: Ok Faggot: And we are going to cancel your hotel too [it was about 9pm on a cold February evening] Me: Good luck
So I had a mad scramble to find a venue on less than a day’s notice, inform all the students, and set up my cameraman. The hotel told the BBC to piss off because I’d already checked in. I advised all the students not to tell the BBC the event was still going head because you know how SJWs are with bomb threats. These people were trying to make me homeless on the evening in a very cold winter’s night after inviting me down to their town. Hardly honourable people.
Late morning on the Friday we all met up outside the venue, ordered some beers, and went up to the pub function room for the seminar on Intermediate Daygame. And thus the Black Book was filmed. Dicking around with the production company clowns was a pain, but I’d written the seminar and prepared the slides assuming I was going to do a proper presentation.
Black Book is a 223-minute seminar advising guys who are already comfortable with beginner daygame on how to make the jump to intermediate.
My life in 2015 has settled into a familiar pattern. I hide out in Newcastle in winter, trying to get some work done, see my friends, and recuperate in preparation for the new season of travel. Then round about mid-March I begin to slot in little two-week trips to Europe to chase girls, with short breaks back in Newcastle between each one.
It’s working out well but like any big change, it brings challenges. By way of comparison, I spent 2012/13 living with the Rock Solid Game guys in London and splitting my game between the familiar haunts of London and short trips abroad. That was a lifestyle that had a solid “base” and a tight-knit group of friends seeing each other every day. By early 2014 it had broken up so I spent most of that year on the road, a month at a time in each destination travelling with mostly the same guys. That was a new flavour again, like being a nomad with a tiny travelling gang. Both patterns were good, but both had challenges.
“It seems a few of you haven’t been following the first rule….”
So 2015 is different again. Much more “off” time with the family in my hometown and the trips have been much shorter stays in any given city, rarely more than ten days. I’ve noticed a much more extreme contrast between my on and off times. While at home I barely think of women except when writing for the blog or my business. I’ll maintain a trickle of WhatsApp / Facebook with my regulars but most of the time my mind is on video games, detective novels and the gym. The first week of this is blissful and by the second week I get restless and start itching to Euro Jaunt. I don’t know if it’s worrying or liberating, but “normal life” only works for me in bite-size chunks. I can’t imagine a life without foreign adventure.
On the plus side having such complete “off” weeks really keeps me connected to reality and it’s where I’m most productive. Skirt-chasing saps all my focus for normal stuff.
I’ve noticed a real sense of time pressure on my 2015 trips that was completely absent from 2014. When you’ve got a month in one city and the dedication to keep grinding, lays start to pile up. Cutting your stay to ten days completely changes the game. Suddenly everything is pull-pull-pull. It’s been fun but my results suffered. Good stories, hot girls, but not as many as previous years.
However the biggest thing I missed towards the end of 2014 and into early 2015 was….. quality male companionship.
It wasn’t until the grand RSG experiment broke up that I realised just how special it was to live in a big old house with all your best mates. Hanging out, drinking, training and hitting on girls together. Three years of that was a very special time. In 2014 the travel-gang thing was good too but a bit too game-focused rather than fun-focused.
Solo euro jaunting is wearing. The first real time I felt this was – of all places – in Brazil. After three weeks of isolation in Sao Paulo and Rio (much of it due to language barriers) I was desperate to get back home. I’d go out every afternoon to sit on Copacabana or Ipanema beach, sip caiparinha and just…. hate it. Too isolated. Too emotionally cold.
Those readers who have recognised me in the street and said hello this year may have noticed I’ve been far more approachable than my blog would suggest. That’s not an accident. By the middle of last year I’d started to realise that Euro Jaunting has become a “thing”. It’s not just the province of the daygamers with public profiles, or my little group of friends. There are lots and lots of men giving it a try.
Sometimes I want to cave their heads in with a big stick, like in Belgrade recently. But that’s just me and my little pet peeves. Really, stepping back and looking at it dispassionately, there are a lot of good guys out there doing it. Living the dream. Sure it’s a tough road but they are putting their money where their mouth is and giving it a go.
So I’ve been meeting up with a bunch of them and trying to cherry-pick the ones I get on with who would make good regular travel companions. I scratch your back, you scratch mine. Quality male companionship.
I’ve been really enjoying it. As much as I’ve been enjoying solo daygame this year I’ve found having a few cool buddies around massively blunts the sharp edges of Euro Jaunt weirdness. The type of Groundhog Day I complained of a few posts ago doesn’t hit so hard. The obsessive compulsion to grind the streets every day doesn’t get so vacuous.
So, Euro Jaunting is now a thing. We’ve created a monster. And I quite like it.
There’s currently a rather involved discussion going on over at the RooshV Forum about me. You can go here to see what I originally wrote, and here for a thread Roosh started to whip things up. I’m not much interested in the opinions of people I’ve never met, but I am interested in correcting falsehoods that are spread about me – whether through malicious intent or innocent misunderstanding.
So, here are my actual views on race. Normally I restrict the “culture war” stuff to my Twitter so as to keep my blog purely Game. However, this will take more than 140 characters so the blog it must be…
First thing is I am racialist not racist. That means I think race is a natural organising line in humans, just as sex and age are. For examples of this just watch groups in action e.g. prison, dance halls, housing. It takes constant intervention by integrationists to deny this natural human impulse.
Second, I am committed to truth and reality above all else. Any time anyone tries to twist or deny reality, they are on my shit list. I write about this all the time in “compliance” in daygame, in martial arts, in science, and in business. It’s a pervasive human weakness to deny truth in order to advance your goals. I’m against that. I think modern culture has become extremely anti-white, at the expense of truth, and it’s a deliberate cultural marxist front.
Third, I believe each race has a natural homeland – the one they evolved in. So Europe for Europeans, Africa for Africans etc and smaller subdivisions within. That doesn’t mean “no blacks in UK”, it just means UK is a white land and the laws and culture should reflect that. Everyone else has to integrate. Africans are accorded the same control of their homeland.
This naturally leads to a few fairly simple conclusions such as:
Different races have differently-weighted traits, as HBD is quickly proving. Each race has a combination of positive and negative. There is no one “master race” but different combinations tend to lead to statistically observable trends that can be functional or dysfunctional depending on the environment. To deny these facts is to deny reality, which puts someone on my shit list as stated above. In practice in the West differences are usually denied in one direction only: to push down whites and push up non-whites. So, it’s a (cultural marxist) politically-motivated denial. When I highlight non-white bad behaviour on my Twitter, that’s in my mind redressing the balance of selective reporting against whites.
Every race has a right to be proud of it’s own people, culture and to control it’s own lands for it’s best interests. Current Western culture is very careful in protecting these rights for everyone except whites. We are the only race not allowed to be proud. You see this on RVF when I’m immediately slandered as Stormfront and racist. That’s the closet-SJWs having a go. I don’t have any desire to see other races abandon their culture in favour of mine – for example I’m very much against colonizers forcing a subject people to speak the colonial language, and I’m against do-gooder NGOs trying to turn Nigerian schoolgirls into So-Cal SJWs.
Note this is NOT white supremacy. I don’t think the world is the white man’s playground. We have no more business in Africa than Africans have in Europe. So I was against colonialism and when the UK went to war in Iraq, Afghanistan, Libya and Kosovo I was against those wars at the time (I have a dim view of what lots of those foreigners were doing, but it was their country and not our problem. We had no right to interfere).
Also I lived in alignment with (2) in my own life: I went to Japan on a legit visa, worked four years, paid taxes, followed their laws, learned their language, then I left when my visa expired. I committed no crimes there. I didn’t apply for benefits. I didn’t try to change their culture to my liking. I didn’t demand regions of UK law. I didn’t shame the Japanese for being “racist” for not letting me vote.
So that’s the “serious” side of what I actually believe and will defend in debate. Now to discuss the inflammatory rhetoric that I often write…..
Firstly, I greatly value Victorian culture. I think that era was the greatest in UK history. One of the cultural habits of Victorians is “casual racism”. It’s basically an intersect of free speech, pattern observation, and ethnocentrism. It’s an expression of national / racial pride little different to what other countries have also used to mythologise their own histories and to provide social cohesion throughout the nation. It’s a crucial part of creating social order and a “we’re in this together”. It’s now fallen out of favour when whites do it because it’s a barrier to multiculturalism and the cultural marxist attack on white identity.
For me, casual racism is fun. It’s like people from Newcastle trolling people from Liverpool or Sunderland. I see identity groups (race, sex, age, region etc) in a good-natured competition, like rival football teams or businesses. For example Bojangles is a Liverpool fan and also my friend. So we chat, have drinks but on match day I’m in the opposite stand singing “scousers are all pedos” and hoping my team wins. I’ll shout at the referee when he disallows a Newcastle goal regardless of whether his decision is correct. I fully expect Bojangles to do the same to support his team and to ridicule mine. Then after the match we are friends again.
That’s pretty much my view on race. I have many non-white friends on a personal level because they intuitively sense this. On a public policy level I expect the UK government to protect the interests of my people from predation by rival groups. I expect my Indian friends to expect the Indian government to look after their interests, including when those interests are in conflict with the UK. And so on. There’s no contradiction between this and having Indian friends.
I’m not even anti-Muslim. I’m just anti-Muslim-conquest-of-Europe. I think they have a stupid backward religion but that’s their business. They can do whatever they want in their homeland.
If I was to pick my lowest point of 2014, it would have to be my flight home from Prague on November 6th. The previous day I’d rotated four girls through my bed, all of them solid 8s, the oldest 26 years old. I’d fucked three and the fourth was (and remains) a 19 yr old virgin. I’d fingered her a bit while she gave me a timid blowjob (the first of her life).
This was a holiday where I closed four girls in the last six days. It was clearly the highlight of my entire Game career. The best I’ve ever done per the younger-hotter-tighter scale. Yet as I boarded the Jet2 flight home to Newcastle, the filming of Daygame Overkill just two days away, I was feeling low. Dejected, even. Why was such a high followed by such a crushing low?
A low point, yesterday
A passing comment from Steve a year earlier came to mind, “Nick, fucking birds isn’t all that. Once you’ve shot your bolt you’re still the same man you always were. Shagging birds doesn’t solve anything.”
I was feeling this on a deep level. It’s pretty hard to conceive of a better send-off to the 2014 Euro-Jaunt season than to parade a string of hot young things through my bed on the last day in Prague. It’s one of those improbable scenarios that can only happen after years of patient work and then jumping on statistical rarerities when they pop up. So, if that’s as good as it gets and yet next day I’m still the same man with the same concerns…… oh well.
Game is a necessary but insufficient condition for a happy life
Moving away from the deeply introspective level, away from high-falutin’ concerns over contentedness and peace of mind, there’s also a cyclical aspect to the ups and downs of a player’s life. Sexual desire is a strongly motivating force that gives a man a sense of purpose – get laid. All that time you are chasing tail you have your eyes fixed on the prize and a clear sense of where you want to be. Once you’ve actually won, that goal evaporates. Typically a new goal immediately presents itself – the next girl. But knock over a bunch of girls in a short time span and that next target doesn’t appear.
You’ve shagged yourself out. All that energising testosterone has been squirted across a succession of firm breasts and into hungry young mouths. The tanks have run dry and listlessness follows. That’s how I felt boarding the plane. Half a pint of my DNA was currently being digested in the four corners of Prague while I was a shambling drained wreck waiting at the departures gate cursing my PSVita as it ran out of battery. I just wanted to lie down by a log fire and sip a cup of hot chocolate.
That’s just a short-term cycle driven by hormones. There’s also a medium-term cycle that I call Cycles of Immersion in Daygame Mastery. Players need an off-season to avoid the dreaded Hollowing Out.
Bear with me on a digression into Dark Souls 2. I love video games more than the Game itself. My favourite games of recent years are the Japanese cult hit Souls series. You play a solo adventurer thrust into a hostile demon world with no more than a broken sword. The game is punishingly unwelcoming – there’s no map, the NPCs give no advice, there are no waypoints, and everything that moves wants to kill you. It’s just you against the world. Alone. Like Oxford Street on Saturday afternoon.
Your character begins as a human but you die pretty quick. The first encounter with the undead ends with you as a bloody pool on the stone floor. Your spirit respawns but now you’re “hollow”. Your humanity died with your physical body and you’re now a shambling undead. Your health bar is limited to 2/3 of your human form and your face is a ghastly rictus grin. You notice most of the human NPCs dare not venture out of the small safe havens because the whole world is full of hollows. Those undead you must kill are just men similar to you who turned hollow sooner. The whole game becomes a battle to regain sources of humanity in the world to combat the degenerative hollowing process.
It’s grim stuff.
Now replace the caverns and castles of Boletaria with the pedestrian streets of Eastern Europe. Really they look quite similar – just light a few lanterns and increase the footfall. Now you and your fellow NPCs daygamers are travelling through a cold unyielding world, each creating his own adventure, creating and breaking alliances as their paths cross and then diverge. Each evening the fellow wanderers come back to the shrine to warm themselves by the campfire, drink health potions, and share stories by the firelight. Some poor lost souls get beasted in the wide world and shamble back as hollows, searching for humanity.
There’s only so much of this you can take
Back in the USA’94 world cup I remember the German coach being asked why he allowed the team’s wives and girlfriends to stay in the same hotel as the players. Wouldn’t that deplete the players of their energy? No, he replied. Sex isn’t the problem. It’s the chasing sex that tires the men out. I’ve noticed this. I have an inability to produce anything of consequence while on a Euro Jaunt. No sooner have I sat down in Starbucks to read a book than a lithe hottie will totter past and sit opposite me. So I start that familiar self-dialogue:
Shall I open her? Okay, let’s figure out a category for her. Hmmm, what country? Okay, is she solo or waiting for her friend to come up from the barista counter? Right, should I try forcing an IOI first……
Ten minutes pass and I find I’m re-reading the same page over and over again, unable to absorb anything. That girl may wander off but I see a few more walk past the window. And my Whatsapp buzzes as a new lead has responded to a message. And should I invited last night’s close out tonight for some jollies?
A week of this is fine before heading back to normality, but a full month grinds me down. My 2014 Euro-Jaunt season was April to November, with only short one-week trips back to Newcastle to try to reconnect to my humanity. Halfway through a Jaunt I find myself daydreaming of “reality”: of Call Of Duty on my big screen TV, of a giant yorkshire pudding with Cumberland sausages from my favourite cafe in Newcastle’s Grainger Market. I start forming lists of all the good books I’ll read “once I get away from all these women who distract me”.
Chasing women is extremely disippating. It’s great fun but needs to be managed. I know some very effective seducers who are empty shells of men – completely hollow. Not all the time, but I see them hollowing out over time until they seem to realise the danger and then rub the Homeward Bone and come back to the campfire to recover their humanity. So this is the situation I find myself in now. My Euro season finished at the beginning of November and I haven’t banged a new girl since. I put myself into a self-imposed hibernation to recover humanity and reverse the hollowing process. But now it’s February and I’m human again. I’m chomping at the bit. Now I see other guys out daygaming and I’m like a kid clockwatching during the last lesson of the schoolday, waiting for the bell to ring so he can run down to the lake with his pals and swim in the water.
So my advice to you all as the Euro-season rolls around in late-March is to marshall your resources carefully and book regular trips back to the campfire. Maintain your hobbies, your routines, and your connections to humanity. Success can hollow you out faster than failure.
I’m looking for guys who would like to attend my next seminar. It’s a small affair, with a tightly limited number of spaces. Ideally, I’ll fill the room with guys who are:
1. Aged between 18 and 23.
2. Relative beginners. Somewhere between 10 and 500 sets.
3. Able to attend daytime on Friday.
4. Willing to do some sets on the infield section around Covent Garden.
5. Willing to be interviewed by a TV production company who are making a documentary about one of the students.
None of those five requirements are set in stone but I will give preferential treatment to people who meet them, and it won’t take long for the ten seats to fill. Contact me at nickkrauser1 [at] gmail [dot] com This is all happening fast.
UPDATE: A few people misunderstood the “casting call” term. I am looking for attendees to sit in the audience. I’m not looking for additional public speakers.
I woke up late today, about 11am, because I’m sleeping off a root canal treatment I had yesterday in Newcastle. Yes, my teeth are still fucking with me. Hopefully it’s all sorted now. So, I wake up and shuffle into the bathroom for a hot shower, climb into my clothes and then set the coffee filter machine brewing my morning cup. I can hear birds singing in the garden and I look out the conservatory windows to see the family cats chasing one up a tree.
but 4 degrees Celcius
My laptop boots up and I notice Steam is having a holiday sale. Chivalry is reduced from £18.99 to £4.99 so I snap it up and it downloads while I check my mails, books sales, and do my daily round-up of the few blogs I still regularly read (Steve Sailer, Heartiste, Vox Day, Roosh, D&P). Then I run around medieval Europe hacking limbs from rival knights for half an hour. Hmmmm, I’m hungry. I walk down the local pub for Cumberland sausages on mash inside a giant Yorkshire Pudding. I get a second coffee and read through my hardboiled detective paperback. It’s about 2pm now. I’m WhatsApping a few of the girls on my international rotation, hassling them for new naked photos. It’s Friday. Anyway…. I won’t bore you with my day. The point is this…… I begin to ruminate on the nature of free time.
There is only one truly precious resource in life – your time.
Time is the only thing you can’t get more of. It’s the resource you trade for everything else. When you go to work you trade it for money. With hobbies you trade it for fun. With girls you trade it for sex and affection. It’s your most precious resource and you’d better use it wisely. Don’t give it away cheaply. Don’t waste it. Don’t let people steal it. So my mind wanders further and I do a quick calculation of my free time now compared to when I worked “in the matrix” in my banking job. So, let’s compare:
07:45 – Wake up, shower, rush breakfast, get dressed, walk to work.
09:00 – Morning in the office, until the lunch break from 1pm till 2pm – half of that is walking to deli and waiting in queue.
14:00 – Afternoon in the office, usually getting out at about 6pm.
18:00 – Walk home, pick up dry cleaning, unburden myself of work clothes, put on normal clothes, start cooking.
20:00 – Finally I’m rested and well fed. My free time begins.
00:00 – Bedtime.
??:?? – Wake up when I damn well feel like it.
??:?? – An hour or so on my business, blog, and related mails and admin
??:?? – If I feel like working I’ll do anywhere from one hour to ten hours work on a product or blogpost.
So I realised that while at work I only really had four hours of free time per weekday, or twenty hours a week. Now it’s more like fifteen hours per day is free. I’ve quadrupled my weekday free time. Now, that’s not to say I lie in a hammock and watch Family Guy all day but almost my entire waking life is a blank slate that I fill with the things I feel like doing and only those. Future project that over the rest of my life. Twenty hours a week vs fifteen hours a day. Let’s say weekends are the same in both lifestyles.
Someone who wasted my time, yesterday.
If you consider, like I do, that the real business of living is doing the things you like in your free time then I’ve “extended my life” by four times.
I’m not saying the maths is perfect, but it’s a thought isn’t it. Unplugging doesn’t just extend your life through better health and lower stress. You’re pretty much extending it just by the incredible multiplier applied to your free time.