Tag Archives: Red Pill

Prison Break: Free Yourself By Taking the Red Pill

yellow saltwater fish

This fish has spent its entire existence swimming in water, yet is probably completely unaware of what water is. Maybe the fish does know, and we have even bigger problems than I thought. It’s hard to be certain. And that’s the entire point. (Image/Unsplash)

We’re going to talk a little red pill, blue pill.

Not the way dudes who hate women sometimes talk about it, though.

But like Morpheus does—the impeccably dressed part-time sage, part-time badass in The Matrix.

We’re going to get a little weird. Please don’t run like I would have five or six years ago.

Try hard to not do the thing I always did in late-night college pot-smoking circles when one person would inevitably start waxing stoner philosophy, and I thought they sounded like morons and thus insta-dismissed whatever they were saying.

Because there’s this idea that I think might be the most important idea in the world.

The idea that we’re dangerously blind to what’s constantly in front of us.

Like fish that spend their entire lives in water, but don’t actually know what water is.

And I think the amount of people we hurt or help in life, and how people will remember us after we’re gone, and the relative success of our marriages and work life and parent-child relationships is entirely dependent on how well we manage to execute this ONE life skill.

You see, when I consider what makes someone interesting, or “deep,” or intelligent, I tend to think about it in terms of how much they know, and their capacity for learning, or their capacity for thought.

Maybe you do too. I believe it’s common.

But the more I think about this way I thoughtlessly measure how intelligent I consider something to be, the more I agree with the brilliant David Foster Wallace’s suggestion that a good education should be less about someone’s capacity to think, and more about a person’s ability to choose WHAT to think about.

And that is going to seem intolerably banal to many people, and maybe you want to stop reading now.

Like breathing.

Like blinking our eyes.

You almost never think about doing them even though they might be the two things you’ve done more times than anything else in your entire life. Boring as hell, to be sure. But so important. If you stop blinking, you’ll go blind. If you stop breathing, you’ll die.

I think this idea is just like that. Like blinking. Like breathing.

If you’re feeling that mental-auto-pilot nudge to shut your brain off now and move on to the next thing, then maybe that is your little warning light to hang on just a little longer. That means I’m writing this sentence just for you.

I know you might not care, and that’s okay.

I’m not writing it because I think you’re wrong or bad or dumb, or need help from some idiot writer on the internet.

I’m writing it because sometimes we humans mess up our entire lives, and damage our children, and lose everything that’s fragile and dear to us, and if someone asked us to explain how it happened, most of us wouldn’t be able to.

Not because we were careless, even though it might feel like that afterward.

Not because we were reckless, even though it might feel that way to the people we hurt.

But because we CHOSE to think about something else in moments when thinking differently would have changed our entire lives for the better.

That’s not a small thing.

Our health.

Our bank accounts.

Our human relationships.

Our souls.

I must ask, as Wallace did in his remarkably poignant commencement speech that first introduced me to this idea, that you please “bracket for just a few minutes your skepticism about the value of the totally obvious.”

The Real Value of The Matrix’s Red Pill/Blue Pill Lesson

Morpheus - red pill blue pill The Matrix

(Artwork/Joel Jerry)

Before it was hijacked by men who I perceive to be intentionally trying to recruit broken, depressed and angry guys to join their Women are the Real Enemy Cult, the red pill/blue pill symbolism portrayed in The Matrix served as a valuable thought exercise.

20-Year-Old Movie Spoiler Alert: The film’s protagonist Neo is given a choice by Morpheus.

Neo can choose the blue pill, which will put him to sleep and allow him to wake up in his bed with no memory of recent events, and carry on with his low-stakes, ignorance-is-bliss life. That would have been easy. No risk. Very little danger.

Or, he can choose the red pill. The red pill won’t taste so good going down. It will be hard to swallow. He’ll have to face some really uncomfortable truths, and life will inevitably feel harder. But it will be REAL. It will be the TRUTH. Even if it doesn’t feel as good. Even if it’s more difficult.

Neo chooses the red pill.

After swallowing it, the world melts around him. Neo wakes up in this alien goo pod with a bunch of cords and shit sticking out of him. His weird, goopy, hairless body is hardwired into some kind of massive biomechanical machine tower with millions of other human bodies all sleeping and hardwired into the same system.

Big machines are flying around.

Aside from the machines and the enslaved humans in sleeping pods, the world is nothing but rubble and ash.

Neo had spent his entire life in a simulated computer life that the machines built to make him think he’s living just like the rest of us. With houses and cars and day jobs.

But actually, he was unwittingly a slave to an intelligent race of alien machines harvesting humans to produce energy.

Whoa.

The Importance of Choosing What to Think About

My mind wanders. A lot.

I have an ADHD brain, and I take medicine every day for it.

That means I have a capacity for unawareness (when I’m on auto-pilot) that I believe exceeds the average person, and which I think contributed heavily to the demise of my marriage.

But even if you don’t have similar brain chemistry, you are still affected by blindness to all of the things hiding in plain sight. (Breathing. Eye-blinking. Fish not knowing what water is.)

Our minds—on autopilot—file everything we see, hear, taste, feel, or experience into some kind of bucket.

OMG. That’s amazing.

Or.

OMG. What hot garbage.

Or.

OMG. What happened, again? I wasn’t paying attention because I just dripped coffee all down the front of my shirt and now I’m for-sure going to look extra-assholey today. NEAT.

We automatically—without any thinking whatsoever—classify stuff in our own minds. How good a movie or song is. How attractive that gal or guy is. How we perceive what others will think about us if they know that we like or do [insert whatever here].

We value and measure whatever we just heard or saw or tasted based on a million prior experiences—which calibrates our personal measuring sticks totally differently than other people’s measuring sticks.

It’s cool that this happens because it saves us an enormous amount of mental energy. Our brains go on auto-pilot, and for that we’re not needing to start drinking heavily or go back to sleep by lunchtime just to survive the mental strain of our brains working a thousand times harder than they do now.

But it’s also NOT cool.

Because maybe when we were young, we were either taught something that wasn’t true (or was only partially true) because we were too innocent, inexperienced and naïve to question what people taught us.

I’m not talking about the big, scary things like religion and politics. Most adults, parents, teachers, older siblings, celebrity influencers aren’t intentionally trying to brainwash people. They simply believe something as surely as everyone else does, and if we value their thoughts and opinions, maybe we adopt them for ourselves.

Most of the time, it’s harmless.

Some of the time, it’s not.

I’m talking about the stuff most people think very little about—whether it’s cool for a man to be a ballerina; whether dogs or cats make better pets; what the vehicle someone is driving says about them.

I know a lot about NFL football and NBA basketball, which many guys like to talk about.

But if I go to a random pub in Dublin, Ireland; or Juneau, Alaska; or Istanbul, Turkey, will the average guy there give even a miniscule shit about North American football and basketball?

I don’t know.

But certainly less than you might expect to find in downtown Cleveland, Ohio; Chicago, Ill., or Boston, Mass.

It’s because people know what they know, and NOTHING else. We can’t know what we haven’t been exposed to or experienced ourselves.

And for everyone, everywhere, we are the stars of our own stories. You, me, the people in Bangladesh, and some other people in Argentina. Everybody. Everywhere.

We have experienced EVERY moment of our entire lives from the view inside of our own heads and first-person perspectives, and filtered through the prism of our specific individual experiences.

And really, this is great most of the time. That you are a unique individual. It’s awesome that you’re not identical to everyone else, because that would seem really boring to me and others. It’s amazing that you’re you. Don’t stop being that.

But it’s also a handicap, even though most people don’t think of it that way because few people like selfish egomaniacs, and most of us want to be liked.

A significant handicap. One with life-and-death consequences.

“Blind certainty, a close-mindedness that amounts to an imprisonment so total that the prisoner doesn’t even know he’s locked up,” Wallace said in that commencement speech. “The point here is that I think this is one part of what teaching me how to think is really supposed to mean. To be just a little less arrogant. To have just a little critical awareness about myself and my certainties. Because a huge percentage of the stuff that I tend to be automatically certain of is, it turns out, totally wrong and deluded. I have learned this the hard way.”

This isn’t about being a good person or being a bad person.

This isn’t about encouraging people to be virtuous.

“It’s a matter of my choosing to do the work of somehow altering or getting free of my natural, hard-wired default setting which is to be deeply and literally self-centered and to see and interpret everything through this lens of self. People who can adjust their natural default setting this way are often described as being ‘well-adjusted,’ which I suggest to you is not an accidental term,” Wallace said.

The Life-Saving Opportunity Crowded Supermarkets, Traffic Jams, and Adulthood Monotony Provide Us

busy supermarket by ABC News

(Image/ABC News)

Note: I just want to reiterate one more time that these aren’t my words. They are from Wallace’s commencement speech to Kenyon College graduates in 2005. And the only reason I know about it is because one of my favorite writers, Mark Manson, shared it several years ago.

It affected him profoundly.

It affected me profoundly, even though I still mess up often.

And I wonder: If it affected EVERYONE profoundly, would most of what’s wrong in the world go away?

I think the answer to that is: Yes.

And I think people who apply what Wallace is encouraging us to do to our relationships with our spouses, friends, siblings, children, co-workers, and even the strangers we encounter in the world—I think if we can muster the strength and courage to take the extra step of choosing WHAT to think, then we can prevent the worst things in our lives from ever happening in the first place.

Maybe we don’t get cancer because we quit smoking.

Maybe we don’t have a heart attack because we exercise and eat healthy.

Maybe we don’t get divorced because we don’t spend years accidentally swinging bats wildly in a room full of the most precious and fragile things in our lives.

Now, Wallace is going to take us home.

“And I submit that this is what the real, no bullshit value of your liberal arts education is supposed to be about: how to keep from going through your comfortable, prosperous, respectable adult life dead, unconscious, a slave to your head and to your natural default setting of being uniquely, completely, imperially alone day in and day out. That may sound like hyperbole, or abstract nonsense. Let’s get concrete. The plain fact is that you graduating seniors do not yet have any clue what ‘day in day out’ really means. There happen to be whole, large parts of adult American life that nobody talks about in commencement speeches. One such part involves boredom, routine and petty frustration. The parents and older folks here will know all too well what I’m talking about.

“By way of example, let’s say it’s an average adult day, and you get up in the morning, go to your challenging, white-collar, college-graduate job, and you work hard for eight or ten hours, and at the end of the day you’re tired and somewhat stressed and all you want is to go home and have a good supper and maybe unwind for an hour, and then hit the sack early because, of course, you have to get up the next day and do it all again. But then you remember there’s no food at home. You haven’t had time to shop this week because of your challenging job, and so now after work you have to get in your car and drive to the supermarket. It’s the end of the work day and the traffic is apt to be: very bad. So getting to the store takes way longer than it should, and when you finally get there, the supermarket is very crowded, because of course it’s the time of day when all the other people with jobs also try to squeeze in some grocery shopping. And the store is hideously lit and infused with soul-killing Muzak or corporate pop and it’s pretty much the last place you want to be but you can’t just get in and quickly out; you have to wander all over the huge, over-lit store’s confusing aisles to find the stuff you want and you have to maneuver your junky cart through all these other tired, hurried people with carts (et cetera, et cetera, cutting stuff out because this is a long ceremony) and eventually you get all your supper supplies, except now it turns out there aren’t enough check-out lanes open even though it’s the end-of-the-day rush. So the checkout line is incredibly long, which is stupid and infuriating. But you can’t take your frustration out on the frantic lady working the register, who is overworked at a job whose daily tedium and meaninglessness surpasses the imagination of any of us here at a prestigious college.

“But anyway, you finally get to the checkout line’s front, and you pay for your food, and you get told to ‘Have a nice day’ in a voice that is the absolute voice of death. Then you have to take your creepy, flimsy, plastic bags of groceries in your cart with the one crazy wheel that pulls maddeningly to the left, all the way out through the crowded, bumpy, littery parking lot, and then you have to drive all the way home through slow, heavy, SUV-intensive, rush-hour traffic, et cetera et cetera.

“Everyone here has done this, of course. But it hasn’t yet been part of you graduates’ actual life routine, day after week after month after year.

“But it will be. And many more dreary, annoying, seemingly meaningless routines besides.

“But that is not the point. The point is that petty, frustrating crap like this is exactly where the work of choosing is gonna come in. Because the traffic jams and crowded aisles and long checkout lines give me time to think, and if I don’t make a conscious decision about how to think and what to pay attention to, I’m gonna be pissed and miserable every time I have to shop. Because my natural default setting is the certainty that situations like this are really all about me. About MY hungriness and MY fatigue and MY desire to just get home, and it’s going to seem for all the world like everybody else is just in my way. And who are all these people in my way? And look at how repulsive most of them are, and how stupid and cow-like and dead-eyed and nonhuman they seem in the checkout line, or at how annoying and rude it is that people are talking loudly on cell phones in the middle of the line. And look at how deeply and personally unfair this is.

“Or, of course, if I’m in a more socially conscious liberal arts form of my default setting, I can spend time in the end-of-the-day traffic being disgusted about all the huge, stupid, lane-blocking SUV’s and Hummers and V-12 pickup trucks, burning their wasteful, selfish, 40-gallon tanks of gas, and I can dwell on the fact that the patriotic or religious bumper-stickers always seem to be on the biggest, most disgustingly selfish vehicles, driven by the ugliest [responding here to loud applause] — this is an example of how NOT to think, though — most disgustingly selfish vehicles, driven by the ugliest, most inconsiderate and aggressive drivers. And I can think about how our children’s children will despise us for wasting all the future’s fuel, and probably screwing up the climate, and how spoiled and stupid and selfish and disgusting we all are, and how modern consumer society just sucks, and so forth and so on.

“You get the idea.

“If I choose to think this way in a store and on the freeway, fine. Lots of us do. Except thinking this way tends to be so easy and automatic that it doesn’t have to be a choice. It is my natural default setting. It’s the automatic way that I experience the boring, frustrating, crowded parts of adult life when I’m operating on the automatic, unconscious belief that I am the center of the world, and that my immediate needs and feelings are what should determine the world’s priorities.

“The thing is that, of course, there are totally different ways to think about these kinds of situations. In this traffic, all these vehicles stopped and idling in my way, it’s not impossible that some of these people in SUV’s have been in horrible auto accidents in the past, and now find driving so terrifying that their therapist has all but ordered them to get a huge, heavy SUV so they can feel safe enough to drive. Or that the Hummer that just cut me off is maybe being driven by a father whose little child is hurt or sick in the seat next to him, and he’s trying to get this kid to the hospital, and he’s in a bigger, more legitimate hurry than I am: it is actually I who am in HIS way.

“Or I can choose to force myself to consider the likelihood that everyone else in the supermarket’s checkout line is just as bored and frustrated as I am, and that some of these people probably have harder, more tedious and painful lives than I do.

“Again, please don’t think that I’m giving you moral advice, or that I’m saying you are supposed to think this way, or that anyone expects you to just automatically do it. Because it’s hard. It takes will and effort, and if you are like me, some days you won’t be able to do it, or you just flat out won’t want to.

“But most days, if you’re aware enough to give yourself a choice, you can choose to look differently at this fat, dead-eyed, over-made-up lady who just screamed at her kid in the checkout line. Maybe she’s not usually like this. Maybe she’s been up three straight nights holding the hand of a husband who is dying of bone cancer. Or maybe this very lady is the low-wage clerk at the motor vehicle department, who just yesterday helped your spouse resolve a horrific, infuriating, red-tape problem through some small act of bureaucratic kindness. Of course, none of this is likely, but it’s also not impossible. It just depends what you want to consider. If you’re automatically sure that you know what reality is, and you are operating on your default setting, then you, like me, probably won’t consider possibilities that aren’t annoying and miserable. But if you really learn how to pay attention, then you will know there are other options. It will actually be within your power to experience a crowded, hot, slow, consumer-hell type situation as not only meaningful, but sacred, on fire with the same force that made the stars: love, fellowship, the mystical oneness of all things deep down.

“Not that that mystical stuff is necessarily true. The only thing that’s capital-T True is that you get to decide how you’re gonna try to see it.

“This, I submit, is the freedom of a real education, of learning how to be well-adjusted. You get to consciously decide what has meaning and what doesn’t. You get to decide what to worship.

“Because here’s something else that’s weird but true: in the day-to-day trenches of adult life, there is actually no such thing as atheism. There is no such thing as not worshipping. Everybody worships. The only choice we get is what to worship. And the compelling reason for maybe choosing some sort of god or spiritual-type thing to worship–be it JC or Allah, be it YHWH or the Wiccan Mother Goddess, or the Four Noble Truths, or some inviolable set of ethical principles–is that pretty much anything else you worship will eat you alive. If you worship money and things, if they are where you tap real meaning in life, then you will never have enough, never feel you have enough. It’s the truth. Worship your body and beauty and sexual allure and you will always feel ugly. And when time and age start showing, you will die a million deaths before they finally grieve you. On one level, we all know this stuff already. It’s been codified as myths, proverbs, clichés, epigrams, parables; the skeleton of every great story. The whole trick is keeping the truth up front in daily consciousness.

“Worship power, you will end up feeling weak and afraid, and you will need ever more power over others to numb you to your own fear. Worship your intellect, being seen as smart, you will end up feeling stupid, a fraud, always on the verge of being found out. But the insidious thing about these forms of worship is not that they’re evil or sinful, it’s that they’re unconscious. They are default settings.

“They’re the kind of worship you just gradually slip into, day after day, getting more and more selective about what you see and how you measure value without ever being fully aware that that’s what you’re doing.

“And the so-called real world will not discourage you from operating on your default settings, because the so-called real world of men and money and power hums merrily along in a pool of fear and anger and frustration and craving and worship of self. Our own present culture has harnessed these forces in ways that have yielded extraordinary wealth and comfort and personal freedom. The freedom all to be lords of our tiny skull-sized kingdoms, alone at the center of all creation. This kind of freedom has much to recommend it. But of course there are all different kinds of freedom, and the kind that is most precious you will not hear much talk about much in the great outside world of wanting and achieving…. The really important kind of freedom involves attention and awareness and discipline, and being able truly to care about other people and to sacrifice for them over and over in myriad petty, unsexy ways every day.

“That is real freedom. That is being educated, and understanding how to think. The alternative is unconsciousness, the default setting, the rat race, the constant gnawing sense of having had, and lost, some infinite thing.

“I know that this stuff probably doesn’t sound fun and breezy or grandly inspirational the way a commencement speech is supposed to sound. What it is, as far as I can see, is the capital-T Truth, with a whole lot of rhetorical niceties stripped away. You are, of course, free to think of it whatever you wish. But please don’t just dismiss it as just some finger-wagging Dr Laura sermon. None of this stuff is really about morality or religion or dogma or big fancy questions of life after death.

“The capital-T Truth is about life BEFORE death.

“It is about the real value of a real education, which has almost nothing to do with knowledge, and everything to do with simple awareness; awareness of what is so real and essential, so hidden in plain sight all around us, all the time, that we have to keep reminding ourselves over and over:

“’This is water.’

“’This is water.’

“It is unimaginably hard to do this, to stay conscious and alive in the adult world day in and day out.

“Which means yet another grand cliché turns out to be true: your education really IS the job of a lifetime. And it commences: now.

“I wish you way more than luck.”

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I’m Starting a Cult Called “Your Gender-Politics Cult is Bullshit”

gender politics

Much of the fighting is ridiculous. Stop acting like you don’t want to sleep with each other. (Image/stephenwhitehead.org)

[15-minute read]

“Don’t call my cult bullshit, you pansy-ass mangina!”

Sorry, Johnny Men’s Rights. Maybe stop peddling bullshit.

“You tell ‘em, Matt! Radical feminism is the BEST!”

Or it’s not.

Equality is the best. NOT SAMENESS. Not advancement at the expense of others. Actual equality.

Equal doesn’t have to mean “identical.” Equal doesn’t have to mean “the same.” It can mean simply “has the same value.” We’ll get into that shortly.

A significant number of feminists (and some subsection of men’s rights groups) want just that—equality.

Fairness. Non-bullshitty fairness for everyone. I like those people and I hope they join my new cult.

Actions and words that lift people up WITHOUT tearing down others in the process are best.

Feminists and Men’s Rights Activists promoting equality for all while NOT being massive dick holes to enemies, real or imagined, deserve our support.

And since I think most people who angrily pit men and women against one another to perpetuate political and social gender wars are scummy shit-eaters, and also think being a cult leader sounds rad, I’ve decided to start one.

Join My Sweet New Cult – YGPCIBS

My cult is going to be awesome, so you’ll definitely want to join it unless you’re already in a gender-politics cult.

My cult teaches ideas that are unpopular with other gender-politics cults—groups that have a stranglehold on the hearts and minds of millions of people, including maybe yours and mine.

My cult has only one member so far because I just invented it five minutes ago, but all are welcome and encouraged to join—especially if you feel like there isn’t a place for you in one of the current batch of gender-obsessed political cults out there.

The name of our new cult is: Your Gender-Politics Cult is Bullshit, or for short, YGPCIBS.

For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Cult Leader Matt. (Hi!)

Yes, I have an agenda. I want our movement to inspire people. Before this is over, I want people who identify with Red Pill philosophy and members of the Women’s Liberation Front to be licking arsenic-free purple Kool-Aid® off of one another.

That’s not the primary goal, mind you. Our primary goal will be to reduce instances of assholery regardless of gender and politics (OR, if already in the non-asshole camp, to continue being awesome).

But just so we’re clear, the porny licking thing will probably be among the cult’s top-three objectives because we’re also going to be a bit juvenile.

‘Hey, Cult Leader Matt! Why Do You Think Feminist and Men’s Rights Groups are Bullshit?’

First, I do not think everything about all feminist or men’s rights groups are bullshit.

I do not think all of the stated beliefs and objectives of these groups are bullshit. And even if I did, I certainly wouldn’t think all individual members of those groups are bullshit.

But, I would say that I perceive an uncomfortably large percentage of any politically motivated gender-based group to NOT be committed to equality, but to winning.

The two groups we need to perpetuate the human species are at WAR with one another. And the hilarious part is that it’s for the same reasons the average couple struggles with communication and understanding one another.

I am firmly and strenuously committed to FAIRNESS. To justice. To actual equality. Not fake-equality.

“Hey, Cult Leader Matt! What’s fake-equality?”

I’ll give you an example.

I have a job where I sit at a desk and spend most of the time typing things on a computer.

All I need to do my job effectively is a laptop computer with internet access. Which means I can pretty much do my job from anywhere connected to the power grid.

But, if I want to keep my job, I’m not allowed to work from wherever I want. If I don’t sit in a designated spot in a specific corporate office building for 40-50 hours per week, they’ll eventually fire me.

That means no working from home. That means no working from coffee shops or restaurants. That even means no working outside on company property on picnic tables or whatever.

Why?

Because other people at the company have jobs with a function requiring them to be inside the building. You know, maybe they pack and ship boxes. Maybe they stock shelves. They can’t do those jobs while sitting outside.

And so, if those of us who can do our jobs from anywhere were to be seen working outside on picnic tables, or discovered to be working from off-site locations, “that wouldn’t be fair to all the people who can’t take a laptop with them and get their work done!”

That is fake equality.

Some bureaucrat decided to write a rule that “Everyone Must Be Treated The Same!” without accounting for the fact that all the company executives get an ass-load of financial and schedule perks unavailable to most employees, and that everyone in maintenance gets to work outside all the time.

Treating everyone as if they are “THE SAME” is fake equality.

Real equality is treating everyone equally.

I shouldn’t necessarily get paid the same as the company’s CEO. I shouldn’t necessarily get the same perks as someone who has worked here 25 years.

Parents don’t typically prevent their 18-year-old kids from activities just because it wouldn’t be fair to their 9-year-old siblings. That would be some next-level fake-equality bullshit.

Just like all the anti-men and anti-women political cults out there. They’re just like shitty parents and silly corporate rule-makers.

People are often NOT the same. This reality needs to be okay.

But, all people have equal value. And THAT must be a core principle guiding our treatment of others.

Anyone taking the stance that men—by virtue of their gender—are better than women, or that women are better than men, have been brainwashed and indoctrinated by an evil cult leader somewhere, and they need our help.

When discussing human equality:

  • Equal can never mean “the same.”
  • Equal must mean “of similar value.” 

The Inherent Danger of Us vs. Them

If the aim of a person or group is to gain advantage at the expense of another (outside of activities where competition is inherently involved like sports, business, job candidacy, dating, etc.) then I’m of the mind (and so it is decreed by YGPCIBS) that they’re doing it wrong.

YGPCIBS cult members will not blindly take sides in identity politics.

The same people crying foul about feeling stereotyped are the same people participating in grand-scale groupthink, and exacerbating a bunch of Us vs. Them nonsense.

The only possible end to an Us vs. Them conflict (that isn’t resolved diplomatically) is one side winning and the other side forced into shit-eating submission.

And if you believe all humans have value and don’t aspire to live your one life being a massive penis, then you’re going to want to avoid any zero-sum games involving human wellness.

I remember one male blog commenter writing: “Way to betray your own gender,” under one of my posts. That guy was totally being a massive penis, which I get because I’ve also acted like a massive penis. (I might be being one right now.)

Identity politics—the act of fighting for or against the agendas of a particular group of people—is one of the biggest problems in our world today.

So that guy who accused me of betraying my own gender because I told the truth about what I’ve observed in male behavior (and done myself) that I believe contributes to massive amounts of divorce and broken families—does he think I should side with every “group” of which I’m a member?

I mean, I’m also white. Does that guy think I should be a racist cock and join some “oppressed white guy” group that denigrates and fights against the prosperity of anyone who has different skin tones?

I’m also straight. Does that guy think I should start harassing gay people and maybe go commit some hate crimes against anyone who has different opinions and/or personal interests than me in the sexual-intimacy department?

Racism. Bigotry. Sexism. Misogyny. All of these are bad things that have no place in our cult because they violate YGPCIBS’ most sacred core principle: Don’t be evil assholes.

Here’s another thing: I’m exhausted trying to tiptoe around with my words when writing about male-female relationships. I blame all the bullshit cults for this.

There are millions of people out there who have never been exposed to the types of relationship discussions we have here. And if one of the ways to affect positive change in a couple’s relationship, or in someone in the dating pool, is to offer real-world examples that play on gender stereotypes, then I feel I have a moral obligation to do so.

Some of you may not know this, but in the United States, sugary carbonated soft drinks are commonly called one of three different names, depending on which region of the country people are from.

In the Northeast and on the West Coast, people call it “soda.”

In the Midwest, people call it “pop.” (Despite being born in Iowa and spending the majority of my life living in Ohio and Illinois, I’ve said “soda” most of my life.)

In the South, people inexplicably call it “Coke,” even if they’re ordering Pepsi or Mountain Dew or Sprite.

Customer: “I’ll take a Coke with that.”

Waiter: “What kind would you like?”

Customer: “Wild Cherry Pepsi.”

That’s insane, right? It’s a minor miracle Pepsi executives and stock holders aren’t regularly arrested for having violent outbursts every time they witness such an exchange.

I don’t call soft drinks “pop,” even though most people I interact with do. Is it wrong, offensive, insensitive, inherently harmful, or some other negative thing to say that most people in the Midwest call soft drinks “pop”? Even though it’s demonstrably true?

Of course not.

Now, if I say that everyone who calls Mountain Dew “Coke” is a dumb redneck, or that everyone who says “soda” is a liberal, elitist snob, could that be called harmful or wrong?

Totally.

It’s all about passing the Asshole Test. And you, Male Right’s Activist and Radical Feminist, are failing the Asshole Test. Or passing? I don’t know. Whichever one means: “You’re being an asshole. Please stop.”

Yes, I have written MANY times that I perceive the actions of men to be the biggest negative influence on relationship success.

That doesn’t mean women don’t sometimes (or even, often) suck. It doesn’t mean women are perfect. It doesn’t mean some men aren’t among the most honorable and wonderful people roaming this earth, because some totally are.

It just means that if you line up every single romantic male-female relationship in human history, I believe it’s the stereotypical actions of the common man that we can pinpoint as the root cause of relationship failure most of the time. (Beginning with their relationship, I mean. The ACTUAL root cause is all of the psychological and emotional baggage left over from childhood which they were too young to understand or do anything about. I’d blame the parents, except they ALSO didn’t know any better. Because their parents did the same thing. And so did their grandparents. And so did their great-grandparents.)

Men have a problem.

Math is math. Seven out of 10 divorces are initiated by women.

This is the part where the MGTOW guys cry conspiracy theory, and where The Red Pill guys try to pawn their alpha-beta and female-imperative nonsense.

Umm. No, dipshits.

If your wife left you, one of four things happened:

  1. You did a shitty job selecting a partner.
  2. You did a shitty job being a husband and/or father.
  3. You were two very decent and well-meaning people who accidentally hurt one another so much through the years, that she finally decided to pull the trigger because she was more afraid of being in a painful marriage than she was of living alone and/or losing time with her children. (1 & 2 may still apply.)
  4. You were the victim of an elaborate, pre-planned con carried out by your spouse over many years, and I’m sorry. That must be really hard. (But, 1 still applies for-sure, and maybe even 2.)

I’m tired of the cult of self-righteous, know-it-all feminists and butt-hurt men freaking out if I dare to suggest that men and women commonly display certain stereotypical behaviors.

If the path to understanding that other people often think, feel and experience things in radically different ways than we do comes courtesy of examples of what a person’s opposite-sex partner might commonly experience, and then a bunch of previously irreconcilable relationship differences can be reconciled, and fewer people feel miserable and like dying after a bad breakup or divorce, then I’m having a LOT of trouble identifying the downside.

That’s a worthy cause. This trying to help-people-not-divorce thing. It’s one YGPCIBS is committed to.

OF COURSE not every member of a particular group exhibits identical traits as every other group member. Gender. Religion. Race. Geography. Even identical twins developed from the same genome frequently demonstrate radical differences in personality and temperament.

We are all individuals.

I’m tired of the cult that is Men’s Rights Activists, including the MGTOW guys, and the internet tough guy Red Pillers and their bottomless barrel of bullshit.

You’ll find guys who label themselves as Men’s Rights Activists to be the least-annoying sect of the men’s cult scene because they have several good intentions and redeeming qualities.

They do a good job fighting for parenting rights for fathers, and for the civil rights of men who are sometimes unjustly crucified in domestic violence cases where they were actually the victims.

Men’s Rights Activists help draw attention to some telling statistics related to men’s wellbeing in 2017.

  • Men kill themselves five times more often than women.
  • Teenage boys kill themselves nine times more often than teenage girls.
  • Men are twice as likely as women to be alcoholics or drug addicts.
  • Men are four times more likely to be clinically depressed than women the same age.
  • Men are victims of the majority of violent crime (but they also cause the vast majority of it).
  • Men more often occupy the world’s most dangerous jobs.
  • During an emergency, it is still the cultural norm in virtually every society in the world to get the women and children to safety first, because men are deemed more expendable. Count the death totals from every military conflict in human history. Every tribe, undeveloped and developed nation in the world systematically sends their men to die first.

These are not insignificant facts. It would be intellectually dishonest and patently unfair to dismiss them when discussing men’s issues in 2017.

But then we also have the MGTOW (Men Going Their Own Way) clan and Red Pillers (which mostly exist in a loosely formed way on the subreddit  r/The RedPill).

MGTOW members reject any type of long-term personal relationship with women. No marriage. No cohabitation. Not even something like driving to pick up the child of a single mother. They avoid any action which they say “might be used in courts to turn him into her legal indentured servant.”

This is where all the butt-hurt Men’s Rights and MGTOW guys lose me, because they don’t accept any responsibility for their choices. They don’t own their shit.

I have an idea, assholes: DON’T MARRY PEOPLE WHO DO HEINOUS AND EVIL THINGS.

Hell, don’t marry anyone who annoys you a lot. Don’t marry anyone for any reason you can come up with! The fewer bad marriages we have, the better.

What’s so lame about their whining is that they never raise their hands and accept responsibility for:

  1. Whatever bullshit they brought to their failed marriage.
  2. Whatever poor judgment they displayed to MARRY someone so horrible.

That’s why so many of these guys like to go to the “ALL women do this!” card. It alleviates them of having to take responsibility for anything, or change any of their asshole behaviors.

Anyway. You get it. Many of them are dicks, and my YGPCIBS cult is better than theirs.

The Red Pill is a philosophy, and reddit.com/r/TheRedPill is its home.

According to an article in the NewStatesman, “the nearly 200,000-subscriber-strong subreddit describes itself as a place for the ‘discussion of sexual strategy in a culture increasingly lacking a positive identity for men.’  In itself, perhaps this doesn’t sound too bad.

“In practice, to ‘swallow the Red Pill’ is to accept the uncomfortable truth about reality. The phrase comes from 1999’s hit film The Matrix, in which the protagonist Neo must choose between the Red Pill – which would allow him to escape the Matrix but see the real, darker world – and the Blue Pill – continued existence in his comfortable, but ultimately fake, life.

“In r/TheRedPill’s instance, the ‘dark truths’ that the subreddit’s subscribers have swallowed are these: feminism is toxic, sexism is fake, men have it harder than women, and everything the media teaches about relationships is a lie. In reality, (the argument goes) women don’t want soft-centered men/chocolates; they want to be dominated, controlled, and manipulated. The most extreme Red Pillers even believe that women want to be raped [by “high-status” men].”

If any of you guys remember a blog commenter here named Jeff Strand (a fake name), he was a Red Pill guy. He remains the only person in four years of blogging here that I’ve ever had to ban from commenting, and it had NOTHING to do with silencing his dissenting opinions, and everything to do with him being an intolerably dark-souled shit-eater.

There are always extremes.

Layers.

Shades of grey, if you will.

I believe there are decent men out there who call themselves MGTOW or Red Pillers.

But I think their ideas are inherently dangerous, and jeopardize the futures of our sons and daughters.

I May Be a Shitty Cult Leader, but Our Awesome Cult Beliefs are Worth Believing (Unless They’re Not)

Here’s a summarized YGPCIBS overview, and my qualifications (or lack thereof) for being a cult leader.

No, I don’t know any good mind-control techniques. I Googled “how to be a successful cult leader” before writing this and according to the only article I read on effective cult-leadership, I’m doomed to be a shitty cult leader. Bummer.

Yes, I hope you send me ungodly amounts of money. I apparently need to build an elaborate cult headquarters somewhere to fit in. Maybe a remote compound. Maybe a high-rise office building. Just somewhere with a nice swimming pool and plenty of high-end tequila, please.

If you’re already in a gender cult, you’re inevitably going to hate YGPCIBS. Some of your reasons will be foolish and immature. (My cult believes things that challenge and contradict your cult’s beliefs). Some of your reasons will be totally valid and appropriate. (My cult called your cult “bullshit”—and meant it.)

A successful cult leader insists that her or his cult’s beliefs are THE ONLY WAY.

People who think they have discovered the magical secret to Life and the Universe—and that only they are RIGHT, and everyone else in the world and human history is WRONG—scare me. This is among the many reasons I won’t succeed as cult leader.

A successful cult leader asks for a suspension of disbelief. And sure, I want you to suspend your own beliefs for a hot minute to ask good questions and challenge any false beliefs you may have, but by joining YGPCIBS I don’t want you to believe aliens flying a spaceship near the Hale-Bopp Comet will magically beam you up to a VIP Comet Party that only you and your 38 closest human friends are invited to IF you kill yourself. Remember: If it sounds too good to be true, it probably is!

A successful cult leader aggressively recruits new members. It’s totally possible this is the last time I ever mention YGPCIBS because I often struggle with follow-through.

A successful cult leader convinces you that you’re always wrong. But you’re not ALWAYS wrong. Maybe not even most of the time. You’re just often wrong. Like me.

A successful cult leader teaches a superhuman model of perfection, and promises to show you how to achieve that state of being. But there is no state-of-being destination for the human condition. The curse of “succeeding” as a human being is that one rarely feels successful, and the feeling is short and fleeting when we do. Successful people rarely think and feel that what they’ve done is good enough. They’re already chasing the next thing. Exceptional people don’t think they’re exceptional because they’re often in a constant cycle of trying and failing to achieve what might be an unattainable ideal.

I don’t believe we get to the top of a mountain one day and think Awesome! Now I’m done and can just feel great every day while I party and stuff! No. Mountain climbers look for higher mountains to climb, or more challenging ways to climb the dangerous mountain again.

A successful cult leader suppresses dissent. I encourage challenging questions. If I can’t answer them, it means I have more to learn.

Every disagreement has THREE possible outcomes and two of them are awesome:

  1. You help someone understand something they didn’t understand before.
  2. You learn something you didn’t know and correct a false belief.
  3. You cling stubbornly to a false belief.

A successful cult leader convinces the group members that they are special and that our specialness makes us better and more important than everyone else. But we’re not special. And it’s okay.

I won’t succeed as a cult leader because I KNOW that I’m not better than you. I know we’re not better than them.

I know that we’re all flawed and a little bit broken. That we’re occasionally weak and afraid. That we’re often selfish and thoughtless. That for every good thing we do, we also are capable of harming others even if we don’t intend to.

This world has ONE chance, and it sure as shit isn’t pitting the genders against one another.

The continuation of our species DEPENDS on men and women working cooperatively and having intercourse and stuff.

To make little humans and raise them to be the kind of people who want to be in good cults like YGPCIBS and not huge-asshole ones.

Many men—most men—have exceptional qualities. Awesome ones. Look for them. Appreciate them. Because the world needs them.

Many women—most women— have exceptional qualities. Awesome ones. Look for them. Appreciate them. Because the world needs them.

We need each other. Need.

And even if we didn’t, my hetero brethren and sisthren, stop being dishonest little sacks and acting like we don’t want each other.

Now, who has the purple Kool-Aid?

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Do Nice Guys Really Finish Last?

(Image/thetimes.co.uk)

(Image/thetimes.co.uk)

If we are referring to orgasms: Absolutely. I mean, you want her to like it and want to do it again, right? Sure, you do.

But in the Game of Life, as most people mean it when saying that phrase? I call bullshit.

I see it over and over again.

Because I’m a guy, and because Neil Strauss commercialized the pick-up artist industry and perhaps inadvertently turned the “seduction community” into a mainstream thing, I am often bombarded with “Here’s How to Get More Chicks!” marketing messages or “Be a man and learn some game!” blog comments.

It’s all coming from the same groups many of you may already be familiar with: MGTOW (Men Going Their Own Way), The Red Pill, or anyone identifying himself as a PUA (pick-up artist).

Like most things in life, it’s not as black and white as it might seem. There are lessons to be learned about self-respect, self-confidence, and general life tips for more effectively meeting strangers. A lot of guys suck at walking up to a pretty girl at the grocery store, striking up non-awkward conversation, and generating enough mutual interest for her to want to exchange contact information, or possibly date or sleep with him.

I’ve never been shy about telling you that scares me, and I can count on one hand how many times I’ve done it in the past three years. She probably has a boyfriend. She’s probably in a hurry. I don’t want to bother her. I don’t want to be a creeper. I don’t want to talk to her in front of her kids. I don’t want to talk to her in front of my kid. I don’t want her to judge the contents of my shopping cart. We probably wouldn’t work anyway.

There’s an endless string of irrational thoughts we invent in our own minds whenever we’re afraid of something and missing too much information. If we all walked around wearing signs: “Hi. I’m Tabitha. I’m divorced. Single. Have a son in fourth grade. Two dogs. I’m friendly. Please feel free to say hi!” or “Hi. I’m Linda. My relationship status doesn’t matter. I’m an introvert and don’t want to talk to you. Ever,” it would make things a lot easier for all parties.

To be sure, the PUA community sometimes offers valuable advice and perspective for men with self-esteem issues, or to decent guys who know too well the stomach-turning feeling right before walking up to a girl while praying none of the bad outcomes you just imagined in your head actually happen.

But, let’s be honest. Like totally, no-bullshit, let’s-not-pretend-this-isn’t-true-for-politically-correct-reasons honest: Most of these guys are assholes.

Some are not assholes. Some are pro-men (not anti-women) in much the same way most people who identify themselves as feminists aren’t anti-men. This is my one-size-never-fits-all disclaimer.

I know all of these guys are not misogynists.

I know all of these guys do not live lives that revolve around how much sex they have.

I know all of these guys do not think men are better than women.

I know all of these guys do not lie to women for the sole purpose of sleeping with them while secretly planning to never speak to them again.

But, right or wrong, I get the impression that many—probably most—do.

These men do as much good for the reputation of men as white supremacists do for caucasians.

This morning, someone was trying to sell me a book via email that would help me “slay hot chicks” and learn an important life secret about “Why nice guys will ALWAYS finish last.”

My “dishes” post received more misogynistic comments than I care to count, and a ton I couldn’t approve because I wasn’t going to let douchebag strangers call female commenters or my ex-wife the most-vile names our language has for women.

So, I’m going to pick on Jeff, who left this gem yesterday under She Feels Like Your Mom and Doesn’t Want to Bang You:

“Ha! You are so wrong and all of your dweeb followers. Women belong in the kitchen making sammiches. When i did all that shit and i mean all of it (i had to teach my wife how to bath and diaper our child etc etc) i cleaned cooked, house work. I think the most she did was grocery shop so she could find the most expensive organic produce. I had less sex. Now i dont do shit and have more sex. If she is home all day she can clean my underwear. If she wants me to do all that shit again, i will just take her debit card from her, hire a maid and get meals for myself and she can mve out.

“Its a fact that prostitutes are cheaper per sex than a wife.

“If my wife complains i ask her to go to work and i would be more than happy to stay home and clean and cook and talk with family and friends at my liesure. That shuts her up.”

That’s a solid example of the kind of guy I’m talking about.

He thinks because I’m single and not sleeping with a bunch of strangers all the time that I’m living incorrectly. And he thinks he has it all figured out and has mastered life because, if his comment is to be believed, he’s married to a subservient sandwich maker who blows him on demand.

I hope he’ll believe me when I say I don’t envy him.

Hey Guys! You’re Going to Get Old and Die

This may be hard for some to understand: I don’t think men should measure their lives by how much sex they have.

I know what cheap-and-meaningless looks and feels like. Maybe it makes you feel good. I don’t know. I only know what I experience. I don’t get it. I’ve never liked it.

I know what meaningful looks and feels like. That has always been good. I’ve never found it difficult to tell the difference.

Rather than pretend to be someone you’re not to get laid, why not make the real version of you awesome?

Rather than lie to con women into bed in order to feel accomplished, why not tell the truth to do so and see how much better it is?

Rather than disgrace our gender with pick-up tactics somewhat indistinguishable from sexual assault, why not behave with code and honor?

You don’t have to trick people to get them to consider you interesting. All you have to do is learn enough about something (you know, like you did with PUA tactics) to exhibit a little depth and intellect, and then you actually BECOME interesting in real life to anyone with similar interests.

The Measure of a Man

I think how much a man knows is worth more than how much sex he has.

I think how much skill a man acquires through hard work and practice is worth more than how much sex he has.

I think how successful a man is at achieving a harmonious and mutually beneficial marriage or relationship is worth more than how much sex he has (though, to be sure, he’ll be having a lot of sex in this case).

I think how successfully a man prepares children for adulthood and earns their love, admiration, respect and appreciation, is worth more than how much sex he has.

I think the stories people tell about a man at his funeral is worth more than how much sex he had.

I think how it feels in the silence—when all the lights and noise are shut off and there’s nowhere to hide—is a good barometer for how well we are living.

I think kindness and treating people well (including ourselves), striving to walk the higher path and sacrificing for something greater than ourselves, is a more noble effort than carving another notch on a bedpost.

I don’t know what the true measure of a man is. But I know this bullshit, Fuck People Over so I Can Periodically Feel Good for an Hour and Never Contribute Anything Meaningful philosophy ISN’T it.

We’re all going to die one day. And maybe we’ll have a little time to think about it before we do.

I already have enough regrets to reflect on when that day comes.

Maybe you do, too.

Nice guys finish last? Measured in cheap-sex currency? Sure.

Measured in any way that’s not morally bankrupt, or in penis-disease quotients?

Don’t bet on it.

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