There are only three types of Danish girls that I’ve noticed: the perma-student, the older woman, and the mom.

You know those people that have been students for what seems like forever, always working on a master’s or PhD? That’s your first category, the perma-student. Since the government pays for education, a Danish person would be stupid not to achieve the highest level possible, especially since in Denmark there is a strong correlation between years of education and income.

It will be rare to meet a girl under 26 who has a full-time job and is not in school at least part time. It’s great that she’s investing in her future, but the problem for you is that liberal universities destroy a woman’s femininity. The more years she spends in them, the less likely she will be able to please you, physically and emotionally.

Since Danish girls spend much more time in universities than American girls, I’m sad to conclude that American girls are more feminine than Danish girls. Yes, it’s true, I’ve found a species that is even more masculine than American women. After accounting for the fact that Danish girls aren’t as slutty as American or Icelandic girls, I hope you’re beginning to see that we have a real problem on our hands.

An annoying feature of the perma-student is that she has a chip on her shoulder. Even though she hasn’t worked a hard day in her life and has had her hand held by the government every step of the way, she thinks her education has given her everything she needs to know about the world, including your own country. She thinks that her time in school is a superior substitute for real-life experience.

I had cases where, in the process of obtaining sex from a Danish girl, she said some outrageous shit that offended my sensibilities so greatly that I had to terminate the interaction by telling her what a retard she was. It’s a bad sign when an American has to tell someone of another country they’re being arrogant, since we’re generally the most arrogant assholes on Earth.

The second type of Danish “girl” is the older woman, starting at 30 years of age. She’s finally done with school and ready to settle down, but is finding it harder to get guys since she has zero femininity units left (she used them all up during the decade she spent in college). The main problem is that her looks have faded and she never lost the freshman twenty. She’s reduced to trolling Internet dating sites with high contrast photos that hide what the unmerciful hands of time have done to her face.

While I don’t like older women, in Denmark they were great for breaking slumps since getting them into bed was easier and more straightforward with less flakiness. This type of girl is easiest to fuck, but you’ll regret it in the morning. I know I did.

The final type of Danish girl is the mom. While she can be young, I usually saw them in their late twenties. Motherhood has reignited her femininity and she will probably be more pleasing than her motherless counterparts. You will find the occasional MILF, but expect to see some serious degradation to her face.

You’re most likely going to encounter the perma-student during your stay, especially if you head to popular bars and clubs for gaming at night. I find that younger girls who are around 21 will be the most enjoyable to talk to because they aren’t as outspoken. The sweetest and kindest girls I talked to were all young.

The worst girls are around twenty-five, an age when they think they know everything. They will be the first to call you out on your game or to give you shit. By the second week in Copenhagen I got into four heated arguments with Danish girls after two months in Iceland without having one. For you, the most pleasant interactions will come from the youngest Danish girls you can find. Troll the high school if you have to.

—

The above article was adapted from my newest release, Don't Bang Denmark, a 72-page hater travel guide that teaches you how to sleep with Danish women while simultaneously convincing you not to go. It contains tourist tips, game advice, sex stories, and hate. It gives you all the information you need to dislike Denmark with extra details not released on the blog. It's available in both paperback and ebook. Read sample pages or learn more about the book.

P.S. I'm huge on Twitter, with over 1 billion followers. Click here to check out my feed.

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REVIEWS:

Alexander The Great

This is an entertaining book about how Alexander conquered the Persians to create one of the largest empires of the ancient world. The author takes you along all the key battles while giving you insight into the personality of perhaps the most known man to have ever lived.

What struck me most about Alexander was that all he cared about was glory and conquest, not money or women. He was the human incarnation of the saying, “If it’s not hard, it’s not worth doing,” and simply wanted to accomplish what no other man had done. He even preferred winning when disadvantaged because he know it would increase his glory. He wanted to be a legend, and on that front he succeeded.

Even though he killed an untold number of people, I couldn’t help but root for him along the journey. Perhaps an unfortunate quirk of human nature is that we love winners, no matter what they have to do in order to win. Those who consider him a murderous tyrant must realize he was a man of his time, no more brutal than other generals who conquered the lands before him.

The only problem with this book is that writer goes on historical tangents that don’t relate to Alexander, needlessy listing names of historical extras and foreign lands without giving you much context to work with. Other than that, I had trouble putting this book down. If you like reading about war or history, you’ll enjoy it.

“Alexander was seeking the glory that comes from taking an unexpected risk—and winning.”

“Brave deeds are what true men do.”

“To truly understand Alexander we must realize that—perhaps more than any man in history—he hated to lose. Alexander was and is the absolute embodiment of pure human ambition with all its good and evil consequences.”

Poorly Made In China

“This is a book about Chinese obfuscation and subterfuge. It is about gaming, strategy, and tactics.”

The author of this book worked as a consultant for American importers who wanted to manufacture in China, acting as translator, inspector, and local expert. He has written a surprisingly entertaining book about how the crafty Chinese try to squeeze importers through a variety of tricks, either by producing goods using inferior raw materials or gradually raising the cost of production. With some of the stories I was on the edge of my seat wondering which party was going to get screwed, and at times it read like funny travel memoir with episodes of tourist scams and culture clash.

“Chinese factories often engaged in quality fade—the incremental degradation of a product over time. They quietly reduced the amount of materials or else manipulate the quality of raw inputs. The changes were gradual, almost imperceptible. The importer was neither asked for permission nor told.”

I can never look at common items the same way. Essentially everything you buy that is made in China is prone to faulty, deceitful, and unsanitary manufacturing practices. In one of many examples, a Chinese factory changed the formulation of liquid soap so that it congealed under cold temperatures, coming out of the bottle in clumps of jizz. The importer could no longer say with confidence what the ingredients were after the factory owner tinkered with the recipe. Through trickery and superior negotiation skills, Chinese factory owners made importers so dependent on them that in essence they becomes the boss while the Americans became middlemen, mere agents.

In a passage from Upton Sinclair’s “The Jungle,” which took place in the early 20th century, a poor young mother goes to the store to buy milk that has a blue tint. It was obviously tainted, but there were no regulations or enforcement in place to ensure she was getting a quality product. There is an assortment of agencies now to help prevent that sort of thing, but just a tiny percentage of goods coming from China, some of it food, is being inspected. We’re back in the wild west where buyer must beware. While you probably trust big brands, you shouldn’t trust the factories those brands outsource to.

The book also points out that shaming companies who outsource isn’t the answer to America’s problems. If just one company in your field successfully outsources work, you will go under if you don’t find a cheaper way to do business. A problem is that Americans don’t give a damn about Made In USA, and will happily purchase the Chinese product if it’s a nickel cheaper. Every American whining about there not being enough manufacturing jobs—while shopping in Walmart or Target—have to do some soul searching, because it’s that behavior which began the exodus of jobs to Chinese shores.

It was bittersweet to read about the economic implications of China’s success because ultimately globalization is a zero-sum game. One country’s gain is another loss. While Americans currently get to pay less for goods than the rest of the world, they give up their factory base in the process. Cheap crap at Walmart will end once our credit line runs out. Then we will have no cheap imports or jobs. We’ll have to depend on China for the most basic of necessities. China is in it for the long-term while Americans are living paycheck to paycheck, quarterly report to quarterly report.

“Importers were thinking checkers, while manufacturers were playing chess.”

All that’s left is checkmate.

Watch My Back (Kindle) / (Paperback)

“My goal became to control and master fear, rather than erase it.”

This is a memoir of an Englishman who grew up having intense anxiety and fear of physical confrontations. He decided to face his fear by becoming a bouncer, ending up in a rough club called Busters. The book features exciting tales of bouncing and fight stories combined with his personal development.

The bulk of this work features simple stories of him beating people into a pulp. The knockouts never got old and I laughed out loud many times throughout the book. With this great power of destruction came his transformation into a bully, where he was ready to hit anyone at the slightest provocation. In spite of that, you root for him to continue knocking people out.

Towards the end of the book, the author talks a lot about the physiology of fear and how to deal with it. Many times he stated how he had trouble dealing with the fear before every fight, that a new match could lead to his end. He repeatedly stresses that fear can be tamed but not completely eradicated.

This is a book of one man facing his fears and getting what he wanted out of life. My only complaint is that he goes off on little side-jaunts while in the middle of the action, but otherwise it’s a captivating story that I recommend.

“Your own mind can be your worst enemy and that as soon as you give in to these thoughts, even a little bit, they grow stronger and stronger, feeding on each little victory, making you weaker and weaker.”

Stuff Parisians Like

This is the Parisian version of Stuff White People Like, best for people who are planning a trip to France. I bought it as a temporary substitution for going to the country. The book portrays French people as insecure and snobby, obsessed with what other people think of them (I guess you could say the same thing about Americans). Overall I found it interesting from a cultural standpoint and sometimes funny, but it’s a better read if you know some French since the author sprinkles many French words throughout without giving English equivalents.

“Rule number one is that jeans are never to be worn with sneakers in Paris. A person walking the streets of Paris wearing jeans and New Balance shoes is American.”

Guilty as charged!

(I thought the author’s biography was interesting. He seems like a go-getter.)

The Pomodoro Technique (free download)

The Pomodoro technique is for managing your time and getting shit done, based on doing uninterrupted 25-minute periods of real work that you time using a basic kitchen timer. I already do a remix of this technique from various productivity tips I’ve implemented in the past ten years where I work for periods of 60 or 75 minutes instead of 25 (I also take longer breaks). When it comes to writing books, I find that 60 minutes should be the minimum work unit because of the time it takes to get into the writing “mood.” For regular office tasks which the book seems geared to, 25 minutes should be sufficient.

It also contains a system for helping you deal with distractions and eliminating bad work habits like getting up for a drink you don’t need or “quickly” checking something on the internet. This book reads like a technical report, but it contains a lot of useful tips if you’re interested in improving your productivity.

The Complete Idiot’s Guide To Understanding Islam

I read this book because I’m converting to Islam. Just kidding, I read it before launching Fat Girl Jihad so I could make better jokes. However I did read it with an open mind to try and understand one of the world’s largest religions.

The book was mostly a disappointment. It offered a rosy propagandist view of Islam that did a horrible job of batting down counter-arguments to some of the religion’s problems. The story of Islam presented here is just as silly as Christianity’s, but you got to respect how efficiently the religion commits its disciples through a ridiculous amount of prayer and a yearly fast. Having to pray five times a day means god and his potential punishments will be constantly on your mind. You become obsessed with god.

The argument made here is that Islam is awesome and peaceful and any negativity you perceive is from media distortions, extremist groups, and misrepresentations by backward cultures. In other words, Islam can do no wrong. Unconvincing elementary school logic is used throughout, such as: “If [Muhammad] was addicted to sex, he would have married all young women. Instead, they were mostly old and/or widowed. Each wife had a special status in the community.”

The most disturbing part of Islam is that it declares humans to exist merely to serve god, placed above your family and even your own life. Every negative thing that happens to you in life is god’s way of testing your faith to him. You are his pawn, his slave, and he is the puppet master of your existence. Your earthly life is his way of testing you to see if you should be admitted to Paradise, but entering is a little tricky.

When you die, your soul enters a sort of purgatory, or soul storage. You chill there for a while until Judgement Day when you line up in a huge hall where every human who has ever lived, regardless of their faith, waits to be judged by god. That “day” of judgement actually takes 50,000 years, so all those suicide bombers who are aching for their 72 virgins, which the book does not mention, still have to wait a little while longer. Can I take my Kindle while I wait?

Another problem with Islam is that your life is more or less pre-ordained by god. It is his will for you to be who you are, which is why most believers say “god willing” when they want to improve their lot. This squelches most forms of ambition and achievement in its followers. While Muslims don’t prefer poverty, it’s better to accept god’s will than work your way out of it since you’ll be rewarded in the afterlife anyway.

Islam believes that a woman’s natural state is very seductive and distracting to men, and that efforts must be made to temper their allure so that men will not be urged to sleep around outside of marriage. For example, during prayers women must line up all the way in the back so that men do not get excited at seeing them bend over in front of them. While I consider that extreme, I do agree with Islam’s view that a woman’s vagina must be protected before marriage. As American culture has shown, a woman should not be trusted with what to do with her vagina from the standpoint of securing long-term relationships (they give it up easily during their prime years when they should be using it as leverage to land a male provider).

In most countries that practice Islam there are no unchaperoned dates. There is no drinking at the club and no sex before marriage. The man pays a dowry to invest himself into a marriage with his virgin bride. While virgins make for horrible casual sex partners, I would pick them over the slut for long-term commitment any day. Islam gets it right in this regard.

Finally, this book documented the first historical case of trolling: “Some Jews actually pretended to convert just so they could gain entry into Muslim meetings and ask confusing questions to sow doubt into the minds of recent converts.” Obviously the trolls did not succeed (do they ever?). I suspect it only inoculated the believers against further criticism.

I’m glad I read the book from the standpoint of being more learned about Islam, but I can’t say it was an enjoyable read.

Natasha’s Dance

I’ll be honest: I picked up this book so that I could learn more about Russian culture in order to bang the women. On that respect, the book failed. It was what it said it was, a cultural history that reviews the intersection of art, the common man, government, and foreign influence, starting with Peter The Great when he built Russia’s first “European” city, St. Petersburg. It gives a blow by blow account of various artists and dandies with muted action and cutesie anecdotes.

The book started off describing the Russian duality of being Russian versus being European, which comes from Peter’s modernization push in the early 18th century. At one point, Russian aristocracy were better at speaking French than their own language, but the whole thing about Napoleon invading the motherland soured them on French culture.

I got so bored with this book that I had to stop reading (it’s almost 800 pages long). I don’t want to be harsh and say it sucks, but it definitely didn’t serve my sexual needs. Unless you’re interested in old Russian culture and art on a scholarly level, skip it. It will not help you bang Russian broads in the year 2012. I repeat: it will not help you get your Russian flag.

P.S. I'm huge on Twitter, with over 1 billion followers. Click here to check out my feed.

1. Start a nightlife, party, and game hybrid blog for the city you live in. Write about going out and having fun. Skip the philosophy and politics.

2. Once in a while, post a picture of yourself. It doesn’t even have to be a clear picture of your face, just something that hints at the strapping man behind the mirror.

3. Blog five times a week. If you’re starting from scratch you have to amp up your quantity to get noticed. Make your content a little sexist, but you don’t have to go full-Roosh.

4. Share a couple sex stories that hint at you being a desirable, experienced man. One of your stories should have the following line: “She told me that no other man made her cum as hard as I did.”

5. Connect with your scene’s top bloggers by commenting on their shitty blogs. It’s okay to be a comment whore as long as you’re giving value. The better your comments are, the more likely someone will click over to your site.

6. Cultivate your audience. After six months and at least 100 blog posts, you should have at least 300 unique visitors a day, half of that from locals. You will get occasional emails and comments from girls that you can follow-up on. If a girl is leaving comments on your blog with her email address, it’s acceptable to contact her privately (in fact, she probably wants you to).

7. Attend local blogger meetups. Among the local set your half-Roosh sexist content should have helped built a reputation that will no doubt precede you. If there are no meetups in your city, coordinate with two other girl bloggers to plan one (they have mostly a female following). Throw a happy hour in a centrally located part of the city.

8. Fuck all the groupies.

I had the most amount of groupies when I ran DC Bachelor, when over 60% of my audience was from DC (now it’s less than 5%). There were monthly happy hours with a freshly rotating crop of vagina that passed my boner test. By 2007, my blogger buddies and I had banged most of the cutest blogger chicks and their readers. (Fun fact: it came out later that both Roissy and I banged the same groupie—what a lucky girl!) Sadly, the quality of groupies soon took a huge dive and the happy hours became more of a support group for fatties once they found out they could get easy attention in spite of their unsightly appearance.

As my readership has gone international, so have my groupies. When I was living in Colombia, I started getting hit up by a Brazilian girl on Twitter. She was gorgeous, so call me beta for making sure to stop by her horrible city in the Northeast for one week of magnificent love-making. Unfortunately, my current crop of lady fans live in random parts of the world. My groupie days have come to an end.

Your first groupie will probably be a thickie blogger chick who wears flip flops, but don’t worry—your quality will increase with your notoriety and blogger status. Soon after that will come the paranoia, where you’re not sure if that chick is looking at you because she likes you or because she knows you. Probably both.

P.S. I'm huge on Twitter, with over 1 billion followers. Click here to check out my feed.

Since she’s unable to flirt, a Danish girl doesn’t know how to show interest, and thinks that doing so would be showing weakness. She won’t go out of her way to make you feel like a man. She’s just… there, wasting space in a bar that could be better used by the cute foreign hookers mingling right outside.

Speaking of hookers, I’m not exaggerating when I say they are more charming than Danish girls. They consistently made me smile. On lonely walks home when they approached me for my money, they said things ten times funnier than anything I heard from a Danish girl.

If you’re stuck in Copenhagen and want something that reminds you of what a woman should be, your best bet is to find a foreign girl who has been in Denmark for less than one year. Otherwise you’ll get yourself a corrupted specimen of a woman that will make you less happy than your run-of-the-mill American girl who insists on wearing flip-flops twenty-four hours a day. It’s that bad.

Even the Danish girls who have somehow escaped the corrupting influence of the androgynous culture (she’ll probably be from Jutland) will have some random masculine quality that fucks everything up. She’ll look good from across the bar, maybe even slightly sexy, but when you interact with her you’ll discover that she has a deep voice. Or she has man hands. Or she moves like a man. Or she has a slight mustache. Or she is arrogant like a man. I’ve met girls in Denmark who were more masculine than me, and I’m the hairiest, horniest motherfucker I know. I’m barely exaggerating when I say that mimicking Danish women has taught me how me to be a stronger man.

Initially a Danish girl will be somewhat reserved, but it takes no more than fifteen minutes for her true outspoken nature to shine. Since a Danish girl thinks she’s an expert on everything, be prepared to get educated on matters your feeble brain can’t possibly comprehend. You’re going to hear the wackiest, most liberal opinions you’ve ever heard in your life (e.g., “The state should supply and inject heroin addicts with pure drug in a safe environment that is also provided by the state”). Take the most liberal shit you learned in college and multiply it by fifty to get a feeling for what you’re going to hear in Denmark.

If you don’t want to bang a Danish girl, disagree with her. While this may build attraction with American girls, for Danish girls it completely shuts off the pussy faucet. They want the role of the alpha while you’re left with the role of the dopey beta. Therefore if you want sex you’re best served by simply nodding or asking her more questions so that she talks enough to make your ears bleed. You will hate yourself for doing this.

If you don’t like a girl, just question what she says, tell her she’s wrong, and enjoy the argument. In Denmark, the girl is always right and it’s the guy’s job to validate her stupid beliefs long enough to get her into bed. Again, while in America, nodding along won’t get you laid, in Denmark it will. She wants an obedient little puppy dog, not a challenge who sees her as the idiot she really is.

Danish girls don’t like masculinity, cockiness, or outspoken guys. Because of Jante Law, any attempt on your part to even indirectly show that you’re more experienced, knowledgeable, or smarter than her will terminate the interaction. Even if you’re definitely more experienced than her (she’s likely to only be a student, after all), you must pretend that you’re both equal. I don’t care if you’re ten years older than her and have lived in a dozen locations around the world after succeeding at a million-dollar business built from scratch, but you must treat the stupid opinions of a 23-year-old Danish girl with reverence and respect if you want to get laid. In other words, you have to sell yourself out for pussy.

Yes, I did this. I sold out. I nodded along to a stupid girl’s opinions to get laid. I feel ashamed for doing it, but I got my nut every time and never called any of those girls again. Maybe I did come out on top a little.

A big problem is that just about everything offends a Danish girl, especially if you make casual observations about her culture, whether positive or negative. She doesn’t believe in stereotypes or generalizations at all. She has the belief that everyone is a completely unique snowflake and any attempt to generalize is wrong and offensive. The irony of this is that Danish people are so incredibly homogenous and alike due to Denmark being a strong conformist culture that they’re the easiest people to generalize about. When girls told me not to generalize, and I noticed that they were basically carbon copies of one another, I concluded it was a case of the lady doth protest too much. If you interact with one Danish girl, you might as well have interacted with them all.

The thing that pissed me off the most about Danish women was their hypocrisy. Like I’ve mentioned previously, they will bash anything non-Danish, expecting you to sit there and take it, but the moment you make even a mild criticism about their culture, they’re ready to call the police.

For example, it was common for a Danish girl to joke that Americans like cheeseburgers and French fries. She’s indirectly saying that Americans are fat. I get it, and I don’t care, because Americans are fat and I personally love cheeseburgers and French fries. I would counter her observation with one of my own by saying, “We love hamburgers, but you guys like the kebabs. Those places are everywhere.” Pretty innocuous comment, right? Wrong. The Danish girl gets offended and counters with, “No, Danish food culture is quite varied. You’re not looking hard enough to find other places.” Really, bitch? There would be no less than four kebab shacks within a stone’s throw.

There are so many kebab shacks in Copenhagen that if an alien landed in Denmark he’d conclude that kebabs, shawarmas, and gyros have been Danish cuisine staples for thousands of years. I’d ask Danish people what their typical cuisine is and they’d give me an answer like “thick wheat bread with meat on it.” In other words, sandwiches. Yeah, real indigenous. They’d rather die than admit that a “stupid American” got them pegged.

It’s the girls’ denial of reality (in exchange for an ultra-liberal worldview) that made it least enjoyable to spend time with them. They use conversation as a way to display the superiority of their beliefs, not hesitating for a second to immediately strike down anything you say. While she has a right to do that, the real-world effect is that blood rushes out of your penis. Talking to a Danish girl has the same effect on your dick as going for a dip in a cold swimming pool.

I could bite my lip for a couple hours just to get my dick wet, but the second after I ejaculated I could no longer put up with it. This means that I didn’t get one repeat bang during my entire stay in Denmark, simply because I couldn’t tolerate the girls any longer.

I had to “reset” my tolerability clock by hitting on new pussy, which unfortunately was almost exactly the same as old pussy. I was miserable. I dealt with my predicament by offending as many girls as I could and getting them ensnared in my “you’re a hypocrite” trap. My favorite bit was to say how Danish girls were the least feminine I’ve ever met and how I couldn’t wait to leave such an androgynous country. I got more satisfaction from bitching out Danish girls than actually fucking them, because one made me feel like a man and the other a pathetic sellout.

Sadly, the dynamic of insulting girls instead of banging them was similar to what I had with American girls, though at least the latter liked masculine, outspoken guys. If you’re a sniveling beta male, Denmark could be your heaven since you have the vibe that Danish girls like, but if you respect yourself and have trouble keeping your mouth shut when people are bullshitting you, Denmark will not be pleasant.

—

The above article was adapted from my newest release, Don't Bang Denmark, a 72-page hater travel guide that teaches you how to sleep with Danish women while simultaneously convincing you not to go. It contains tourist tips, game advice, sex stories, and hate. It gives you all the information you need to dislike Denmark with extra details not released on the blog. It's available in both paperback and ebook. Read sample pages or learn more about the book.

P.S. I'm huge on Twitter, with over 1 billion followers. Click here to check out my feed.

2. You are obsessed with looks. When a man claims success with women, you attribute 100% of that success to his appearance. In your world view, a good-looking guy who is deaf, blind, and mute would still get laid a lot.

3. You are obsessed with money. You think you need to be rich to get a 7, yet you spend your free time playing video games posting on hate forums instead of increasing the income that you think is so important to sexual success.

4. You offer no solutions. If you do, they’ll either be an abbreviated version of existing game advice or be just flat-out retarded. One prominent game denialist said the secret to getting laid is to take a shower and then go out and completely ignore women (he wasn’t joking). Instead of pursuing a path of self-improvement, you complain endlessly like an elderly woman.

5. Your mother had power over your dad. You’re trained to believe that only women can be empowered, not men. The best thing a guy can do is to accept that he sucks with women and get a 9-5 job to enjoy the occasional Chipotle meal with a side of guacamole.

6. You find it hard to believe that women want to have sex just for the sake of having sex. You think heavenly bodies need to be aligned for a girl to have a one-night stand or put out quickly, that she needs to go through a 100 bullet point checklist just to open her legs. I’ve seen haters who claim that one-night stands “don’t exist” and are “impossible.”

7. You believe in the myth of the good girl. You think that all the girls having sex are sluts. You think that an “honest” girl guards her pussy like a medieval sentry and only puts out for rich and good-looking guys who invest one year doing Compliment and Cuddle groundwork. You think playing the numbers game is “wrong” because it just selects for girls who want to have sex, when the entire point of game is to have sex with girls who want to have sex.

8. You have society anxiety disorder. The amount of unresolved fear has built up in you for so long that it is no longer curable by modern psychiatry. Therefore, you’re most likely a 20-something virgin. The world is a dangerous place, and those who have successfully met that danger head-on are obviously con artists or liars.

Sadly, if all game denialists died right now, neither men or women would mourn them. They provide value for neither.

P.S. I'm huge on Twitter, with over 1 billion followers. Click here to check out my feed.

I should have unbridled happiness flowing from my pores, but truth is my life today brings me contentment, not bliss. I’ve gotten used to this lifestyle and see it as normal. Only when I think back ten years do I appreciate how far I’ve come.

I’ve become a man without goals. I don’t need more notches or a higher income. I don’t want a family (right now). I don’t want a smartphone or tablet device. Besides a couple of countries I want to visit in the future, there is nothing else I want. What should I try to achieve next?

I’ve meditated about this problem a lot for the past couple months. My thoughts kept going back to the pussy I had in Poland, where my penis reached the then pinnacle of its existence. I don’t need any more notches, that’s for sure, but I can’t think of anything else that keeps my mind sharper and my masculinity stronger than chasing pink. The day-to-day adventures of pussy chasing keeps me young, vigorous, and fully engaged in life. Being a slave to the pussy has made me a warrior. I’m miles ahead of the sexual pack when compared to my male peers of the world, whose approach to getting laid is based more on luck and hope than concerted effort and strategy.

If pussy is my fountain of youth, it is clear what my new mission in life must be. It was under my nose all along, something I must have known was the answer but could not admit to myself. Here is what I wrote almost a year ago:

Within a country there is a city that has a bar that contains a spot where you will be in disbelief at how easy it is to consistently get quality women, regardless of how many flaws you think you have. On this 3 foot by 3 foot patch of space you’re an unstoppable rebel force, though for the guy standing next to you the patch does absolutely nothing because it’s not his patch. It is your duty as a man to find out where that little patch of Earth is and reap the rewards that it contains.

Ironically enough, I titled the post “Your Duty As A Man.” At the time my duty was slightly different, just to travel through Europe and fuck around, not to find this magical patch, this pussy paradise. I wanted to meander through Europe and accumulate random experiences and flags. Then Poland happened, and that plan no longer made any sense after I realized that a consistent stream of high-quality pussy profoundly affected my immediate happiness in a positive way. The feeling that comes from being unstoppable with the women was like natural heroin. Every night in Poland I’d go to sleep with a little smirk on my face, ready to die in peace, even if I was alone in bed.

It’s finally obvious what I have to do. My mission today is to find a place that exceeds Poland. My goal in life is to find pussy paradise.

I want to be in a place where if I step outside and take a deep breath, pussy will come. I want to walk in a huge club and be the most desirable man who women compete over. I want zero-effort pussy of the most beautiful girls I’ve ever had in my life. Maybe you’re laughing right now that I’m dreaming, that this place doesn’t exist, but I believe it does, and sometimes belief is all it takes.

Before a man searches for pussy paradise, he must understand its transient nature. Nothing stays paradise forever. They’re like once in a millenia tsunamis that occur after a convergence of unlikely factors, never to be seen again in a location for many generations. In two recent countries I visited, Estonia and Latvia, I saw the scattered ruins of the paradise that existed before me. Stories from those who remembered its peak suggested great riches and glory to all those men who visited, but I was too little too late (actually five years too late). With the rapid societal changes that globalization brings, I estimate a 1-3 year window until emergent pussy paradises fade, with the only thing left for late arrivals is the smell of faint pussy juice in the air.

When you stay on the road you start to develop a sixth sense for where pussy paradise may be. You look at a city name that you’ve never seen and have a feeling that this could be it. Then you dedicate a lot of time and resources to investigate further, only to be likely disappointed. In my hand I hold yet another losing lottery ticket, but the jackpot continues to grow and I still believe in my numbers. I will find pussy paradise, no matter how long it takes me.

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You’d think they’d be thinner with all that bicycling they do, but they overcompensate with frequent late-night kebab meals and an all-around fatty diet. Just like in America, it’s not proper to shame fatties into not being so fat, so Danish people are more likely to attribute someone’s disgusting obesity to a glandular problem than from constantly stuffing their pie hole.

I’m still in disbelief that the women of a country can be so ugly. Copenhagen is one of the few large cities I’ve been in the world where I can go several days without seeing an approachable chick. This was also the case in Bolivia, a place where my dick simply powered down due to lack of arousal.

While you’ll still spot cute chicks in the city (somewhere), the average Danish girl is both undatable and unfuckable. You won’t be wowed by the women and you won’t be changing your travel plans to stay longer. The few girls that are decent looking know they’re relatively beautiful and have large flocks of guys surrounding them. The worst part of this is that Danish guys are actually much better looking than the girls. The result is a surplus of good-looking dudes and a limited supply of hot girls. That means that guys are forced to date down.

It was routine to see decent-looking Danish guys with busted Danish girls, but never the other way around. If I saw a hot Danish girl with a man, he’d always be very good-looking. Unlike girls in Brazil or Poland, there’s no reason for a Danish girl to date down because the sexual market is heavily skewed in her favor. Denmark is one of those places like Washington DC where you have to work like a fucking mule to get a 6. The same amount of work in Brazil or Poland would get you an 8.

One feature of the Danish girl that bothered me the most was her masculine walking style. She keeps her arms still while hunching her shoulders over like a wild boar, as if she wants to barrel into something. Sometimes she tilts her head down to add to the masculine effect. I don’t know where they learned how to walk, but I can assure you it’s not feminine. Denmark is the only place where I got out of the way on the sidewalk if a thick girl was approaching, for fear that I might be injured in a possible collision.

Their tits are of respectable size, but their asses are pancakes, not helped by their love of jeans so baggy that they often have to pull them up. If you’re an ass man like myself, you’ll be in tears by your second night in Denmark. The fine asses you do end up seeing will probably be owned by a non-Danish girl.

The hottest girls are usually mixed breed daughters of Middle Eastern immigrants. If she’s good-looking and has a bit of olive in her, you can bet that she’s Danish in culture only. While most foreign girls in Denmark live a normal middle class lifestyle, many are prostitutes shipped in from Africa or Eastern Europe. They walk the streets at night in Copenhagen’s Vesterbro neighborhood, where prostitution laws aren’t enforced. In Denmark they tend to punish the johns instead of the whores, since the girl is an “unfortunate victim of her environment.”

In every country I’ve been to, prostitutes are bottom of the barrel. They’re almost always ugly, filthy whores who would have to pay me to have sex with them. While for the most part this is true in Copenhagen, there were a shocking number of streetwalkers that blew away the Danish women. The hottest girl I saw in my first five days was a sexy Middle Eastern prostitute who walked like a normal woman. I couldn’t believe that such an attractive girl had to sell her body. How did she arrive at that predicament? Why couldn’t she get a sugar daddy? How much did she charge, anyway?

Later, when I moved into my apartment, a Russian prostitute working in front was usually hotter than all the girls I’d see during a night out. Believe me when I say I was tempted. It seems that in Denmark the hottest girl a guy can get is a prostitute, while in the States the prostitutes serve mostly to provide orgasms. When streetwalkers are hotter than the local women, something is very wrong.

Even the style of Danish women is atrocious. They dress frumpy and dumpy, as if they just checked out of a homeless shelter. For some reason, these girls are big fans of dirty black military-style boots, turd-green or brown jackets (sometimes with a German flag on it), loose clothing, baggy jeans or MC Hammer parachute pants, and mismatched scarves or grandma shawls. Their favorite color is brown, since anything feminine like pink is sexist and breaks Jante Law. They step up their style game at night, but during the day they look like absolute hell. There seems to be a competition on how plain and unattractive they can make themselves.

For an idea of what I’m talking about, check out the blog Hel Looks, a site where some guy takes street photos of people in Helsinki, the capital of Finland. Though the country is different, people dress the same.

On the site you’ll notice odd hair styles that are similar to Denmark, as well. Many Danish girls go to a salon and say, “Shave the sides, but leave a bit in the middle.” I would estimate that 10-15% of girls have some part of her head shaved, usually only one side. If they elected not to shave it, they sometimes slick it back like in the Robert Palmer music video “Addicted To Love.” But even the girls in that video, who were designed to look like emotionless sexbots, are fifty times more bangable than your typical Danish girl.

I have painted a picture of ugly-faced women with thick bodies, flat asses, short (or no) hair, military styling, and a walk that makes you want to get out of the way. In summary, Danish girls would make fine soldiers. Even though Denmark is not a militant nation, if World War III breaks out, the government can call upon these female Scandinavian warriors to fight for their country. Since they’re not busy looking like real women, they’ll find adapting to life in the army most agreeable. If you like rough and tumble army chicks who can possibly open a beer bottle using their hands (and not look sexy doing it), Denmark is the place for you.

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A lot of things can happen that prevent another date, most of which has nothing to do with you. This is especially true today when every woman feels like a little celebrity thanks to Facebook, Twitter, and Tumblr. She’s content getting validation from internet fans and orbiters as much as a man in the flesh. Other times it may be completely about you. Maybe she’s losing attraction for you or just not into your style of humor. In either case, besides spitting the best game you can, the result is out of your hands.

There’s no guarantee the number you got will lead to a date. There’s no guarantee that an amazing first date will lead to a second. There’s no guarantee that a girl who said you gave her the best dick in the world will want to see you again. There’s no guarantee that your girlfriend of six months will not suddenly fall in love with another man. The only guarantee is the law of averages, which tells you to play the field and not bet the farm on one hand. Monogamous relationships with honorable women who want to grow old with you until death do you part is a thing of the past.

In my early 20s, it was my nature to romantically fantasize about women I met. Reality helped me temper that habit. Otherwise I’d be an emotionally shattered man too scared to ask out another girl for fear that she would flake on me. The truth is that fantastic pickups and dates only slightly correlate to whether you will see a girl again. You can have the best game in the world with buttery lips that make her melt with ecstasy, but there’s no way you can counter a hater comment by her fat friend who did her best in making your girl feel guilty for going out with you. There’s no way you can keep her ego at a normal level when 20 guys hit on her the night after you met her. You have absolutely no control over most of the things that block your chances at getting into her pants.

Women have trained men like me to be as cold as possible in order to meet my sexual needs. When I’m with a girl that I like, and I look into her eyes and she looks back into mine, I do all that I can to get what I want from her at that moment, because I know there’s a good chance I may never see her again. Her pretty face can disappear off the face of the earth, and it won’t make any difference to me.

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Now it’s rare that a day goes by where I don’t think of the grim reaper. I hold death real close to my chest, using it as the main way to act instead of waiting for tomorrow. The reaper pushes me to go against what my upbringing has indoctrinated me to do, to fit my peg body into the college-career-mortgage-marriage hole.

The more I think of death and the more I use it as a tool, of knowing that there is a clock on my life that ticks every second of every day with a random deadline that I can’t predict, the more it has pushed me to take the tough steps of making big changes in my life.

It’s now clear to me what I have to do so that I will not be upset when the end is near: I have to complete as many of my dreams and goals as quickly as possible. It’s a bucket list I must work on while still very much alive, not when I turn 50 or get diagnosed with a life-ending illness. I’m in the prime of my life, but I’m living as if it will soon end.

I believe the more times you can say “been there, done that” on your death bed to all the things you set out to do, the more peacefully you can go. These can range from the insignificant to the lofty:

• Banging a big Brazilian booty
• Writing a book
• Learning a foreign language
• Starting a successful business
• Living in another country for one year
• Procreating
• Playing a few songs on a musical instrument
• Fucking cheap hookers who loved you all night long
• Paying off debt
• Owning a restaurant or bar
• Starting a nonprofit organization
• Beating someone up with your bare hands

While it will be impossible to complete everything you want to do before you die, there is a point where you feel like you’ve done enough, where you’ve gone far above your human duty and any extra day you live on earth is gravy on top of what already was an exciting life where you acted instead of waited. When it’s your time to go, you can say to yourself, “I had a good run,” and close your eyes with no regrets. This is what I want.

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It’s taboo to show off, brag, or even indirectly show your value. You can’t talk about how much you enjoy your job, how you bought an awesome brand new anything, or how generally happy you are with life—anything that might show how you may be better than your audience. When you disagree with someone, you have to be very gentle about criticizing them because otherwise you would imply that you’re smarter. You can never say “you’re wrong” to anyone. Most Danes avoid possible arguments by simply not bringing up their contrary opinions.

Here are the ten rules of Jante Law:

1. Don’t think you’re anything special.
2. Don’t think you’re as good as us.
3. Don’t think you’re smarter than us.
4. Don’t convince yourself that you’re better than us.
5. Don’t think you know more than us.
6. Don’t think you are more important than us.
7. Don’t think you are good at anything.
8. Don’t laugh at us.
9. Don’t think anyone cares about you.
10. Don’t think you can teach us anything.

Take a minute to think about the resulting personalities of people who believe in these rules. Combine it with Danes not being risk takers. Can you imagine the type of conversations that result?

Painfully boring conversations.

Everyone is scared of generalizing or giving strong opinions. Risky topics are avoided. Showing knowledge or experience must be done in a light-handed way. All your accomplishments, no matter how small, must be minimized to make them a result of luck instead of hard work or innate talent. You can’t judge those who are less fortunate than you by calling them lazy or stupid. You’re immediately punished for showing any real spark or emotion. You must hide your individuality and conform to what society expects of you.

The Danish egalitarian system and Jante Law feed on each other to form what is one of the most liberal, feminist-friendly societies in the world. Therefore, when it comes to getting laid, your American attitude and belief system will cockblock the fuck out of you before you even open your mouth. Since basically the entire point of game is showing you’re better than the next guy, something that Jante Law specifically forbids, it’s no surprise to find that game efforts will not be well received in Denmark, especially if you consider yourself an alpha male. It was amusing how often and how quickly I’d offend every Danish girl without even trying.

In the States you may have heard someone say, “If the police want to get you, they will. There are so many laws on the books that you’re always breaking one at any point.” I feel the same way with Jante Law. As an American, you’re breaking every facet of Jante Law just by being American. Your confident body language alone is breaking tenets one and four. Understand that Danish culture will cockblock you on your every approach.

Even minor game techniques go over poorly in Denmark. For example, let’s take a look at this statement: “When I was in Colombia for six months, I studied Spanish. I got good at it, but now I suck again.” A pretty innocent way to show value to a girl, right? Not in Denmark. I’m implying that I’m more well-traveled than her and also more knowledgeable in the realm of language. I’m breaking Jante Law. The girl will punish me by withdrawing from the conversation.

You’re probably thinking that this is absurd. That’s because you’re from a country like America, England, Australia, or Canada, where that type of statement will be rewarded with female interest. The conversation you’re supposed to have in Denmark should be void of these types of “value drops” while at the same time not teasing her at all, since teasing implies that you’re better than her. Consider that even wearing a tight t-shirt that shows off your muscles comes close to breaking Jante Law because you’re bragging that you’re stronger than someone else. In Denmark, individuality must be destroyed for the greater good. You’re not an individual, just a worthless slug that is just like all the other slugs.

While the Danish government has made human rights more egalitarian, Jante Law has made sex more egalitarian. Instead of a few guys fucking all the women like in the States (while the sexual losers stay home and play World of Warcraft), you have more Danish guys getting laid, though with fewer partners. In other words, the alpha male is neutralized in Denmark. He’s not rewarded with more sex for his alphaness because alphaness breaks Jante Law.

If you were in a country where game didn’t really matter and everyone downplayed their attractiveness by looking like they had just come out of a thrift store, which man would fuck the most women? Answer: the one with the best social circle.

My biggest complaint about Jante Law is that there is a double standard in how it’s applied. I’ve already remarked how Denmark is a highly feminist country. It’s a place where women think they’re equal or superior to men, eager to castrate them for displays of alpha masculinity. So can you take a guess as to which gender will be hypocrites when it comes to the law’s application?

Danish women are the most hypocritical breed of female I have ever encountered. Let me give you an example. In conversations, I would make a comment about how Danish women aren’t feminine or that the state shouldn’t be so eager to take care of drug addicts who have no interest in quitting. I was then scolded for having “expectations” of how people should or shouldn’t act and that I was attributing a person’s faults to his nature instead of his environment. Fair enough—that was their argument and I can respect another person’s opinion.

Then five minutes later, I’d say I was going to Poland. The Danish girl would frown and say, “Why Poland? The people there are ugly. Polish girls are dirty prostitutes.” Really? You just got on me for generalizing, but now you’re doing it five times worse. This happened to me at least a couple of times each week.

You’re not allowed to criticize Denmark or their way of life, since you’re just a stupid, possibly fat American, but she can criticize anything she wants while shitting on your opinion at the same time. This angered me to no end, and the fact that Danish women ended up being so wrong about Polish women suggests they hold some jealousy towards them.

I’ve come to the conclusion that Jante Law has two real purposes. The first is to hold men down. It serves to cherish women and their opinions and hypocrisy while preventing you from “fighting” back. A girl can break Jante Law but you can’t, and if you do, you’ll be banished from the tribe. This is a classic case of women demanding equality but then perpetuating inequality to further their cause at the expense of men’s.

The second feature of Jante Law is to keep your neighbor down. If there is no benefit for your neighbor to show off his unique character, experience, or wealth, that means he’ll be more ashamed about doing better in life than you. Jante Law is like an anti-bragging behavioral modification drug meant to make people who aren’t as skilled or successful as you feel better about themselves.

What Jante Law ultimately does is protect the egos of women and the unambitious who constantly feel the need to compare their lot with everyone else’s. While I approve of the benefits the government gives to all its citizens, Jante Law is something I can’t live with. Unfortunately, we have to accept that they go hand-in-hand, that we can’t fulfill basic human rights for all without viewing everyone as equal. That’s fine for most people, but I’ve spent way too much time happily surviving in the jungle to pack my bags and move into the zoo.

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No, it’s simply to reproduce.

Quick—name a female scientist besides Marie Curie. Name a female artist during the Renaissance. Name a famous female architect or Nobel Prize winner. Women have been quiet in the history of the world not because of male privilege, but because they’re not designed to achieve. The advantage that nature has given them concerns solely their appearance.

[Nature] has provided her with superabundant beauty and charm for a few years at the expense of the whole remainder of her life, so that during these years she may so capture the imagination of a man that he is carried away into undertaking to support her honorably in some form or another for the rest of her life, a step he would seem hardly likely to take for purely rational considerations.

A woman loses her beauty during motherhood because it’s superfluous to her existence. For every MILF you encounter there are 100 mothers whose drab appearance would not even breach your consciousness. Western women, through their stupidity and lack of self-control, have rebuked nature’s call of taking advantage of those few years of beauty by staying fat and masculine for their entire lives. It’s too little, too late when she’s unable to attract decent men in her mid 30s or silence the call of her genes telling her to become a mother. She will remain barren, a failure in life.

I’ve always said that even shy and young girls have a competence of game that would rival that of experienced men who are much older. Female game, in the form of cunning, manipulation, lying, and charm, is hard-wired into their genetics. While some men are also born with such skills, most have to learn it through trial and error. Men of the past have found it much easier at becoming skilled at a specific trade and earning money in order to land a wife than to compete with women in the game arena. But when having a good job is no longer sufficient, like it is today, the arduous process of becoming competent at game must be undertaken. The demand for game advice has become so great that it has spawned its own industry in several countries, the first time that has happened in world history.

[Women] are sexus sequior, the inferior second sex in everything respect: one should be indulgent towards their weaknesses, but to pay them honour is ridiculous beyond measure and demeans us even in their eyes.

This is a fact that white knights will never understand. As any game practitioner knows, a woman does not respect you if you respect her. Call this sad or unfortunate but that’s the reality of human nature. Women do not like you if you attribute value to them that is not actually there. Complimenting a woman beyond her appearance, such as on her personality, courage, intelligence, or what have you, is a sure-fire way to not sleep with her. Even complimenting her beauty has become dangerous. Do so at your own peril and be hated by your penis for all eternity.

That the property which has cost men long years of toil and effort, and been won with so much difficulty, should afterwards come into the hands of women, who then, in their lack of reason, squander it in a short time, or otherwise fool it away, is a grievance and a wrong as serious as it common, which should be prevented by limiting the right of women to inherit.

There is a reason why a woman’s vagina was locked up and guarded in ancient times until marriage: she could not be trusted with her sexual choices. Look at a modern woman’s sexual behavior and ask yourself who is gaining from her promiscuity. Alpha men are gaining. She’s wasting the few years of beauty she has to fuck them with absolutely no commitment or strings, and soon will be left alone, without a provider, and nothing to show for her prime years of beauty besides HPV and a bitter attitude. Ancient practices were followed to specifically avoid this outcome, no matter how “misogynist” they are to the modern feminist cunt.

There is no point in wasting any more energy worrying about their plight. They made their bed and will now lie in it while sucking off the alpha she just met in the bar. Having game, being alpha, and understanding the true nature of women allow today’s man to be harem masters of the past. I’m enjoying this party to no end, but one day the music will stop. And then I’ll adapt again.

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I had been out to clubs a couple times before, but I had absolutely no game, no style, no confidence, and no money. All I had was hope that I’d get lucky. My mom helped me pack my wardrobe, including two fine pair of brown slacks, and I was off.

For some reason, guys think it’s easier to succeed with women when they are far away from home, that you unlock some type of cheat code that places you in a parallel universe where women are ten times more attracted to you. I thought no different. I believed that stepping foot in Miami would reveal the Casanova that was always bubbling underneath. I even took a couple boxes of condoms.

It become very clear early on that I would not succeed. I was a helpless little minnow in an ocean far bigger and more competitive than my University of Maryland lake. Me and my slacks were utterly unable to compete, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t try. I approached at least ten girls that week, my first approaches ever, and actually got a number from one (I remember calling her from a pay phone). I also talked to a “hot” girl for about fifteen minutes. I was proud of myself. Though I didn’t come close to getting laid, or even kissing a girl, it was the moment I first dipped my foot into the pool. The water wasn’t as cold as I had thought.

I get nostalgic when I think about that trip. I was just a sexually frustrated guy who wanted to bang a couple girls until finding a nice girlfriend. Back then I fantasized more about cuddling and romantic trips than aggressively loosening a woman’s pussy. I had no clue I would become who I am today, a guy who fucks just for the sake of fucking with no higher aim in mind.

I thought that learning game would be a means to the end of helping me get a girlfriend, but I didn’t know that within my nature was a man who viewed the game as the end itself. Now I look back at poor little Roosh of 2001, and remember how he had to gather the powers of Zeus to approach just one woman.

Then I wonder why men become who they become.

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The Danish welfare state is admirable: every citizen receives fully covered cradle-to-grave services. A Danish person has no idea what it feels like to not have medical care or free access to university education. They have no fear of becoming homeless or permanently jobless. The government’s soothing hand will catch everyone as they fall. To an American like myself, brainwashed to believe that you need to earn things like basic health care or education by working your ass off, it was quite a shock.

The biggest surprise was that the Danish government pays people to attend university for both undergraduate and graduate degrees. In addition to having health care costs covered and access to cheap rent, all students receive at least a $1,000 a month stipend to attend class. Along with part-time jobs that pay high wages, the average Danish twenty-something lives a pretty comfortable life getting educated to eventually follow a straightforward career path in a country where nearly full employment seems to be the rule.

Even if you don’t get a job, the government will pay you each month until you do. Do you feel like taking a little hiatus to a foreign country? As long as you can show you’re taking part-time classes, the government will keep the cash flowing. For a lower-class American, becoming a Danish citizen is almost like winning the lottery.

How is Denmark able to afford this? Two ways: they spend a third less of their GDP on the military than we do, and they tax the hell out of their citizens. Tax rates start at 40% and tilt above 50% for the top classes. My effective tax rate last year as an American resident was 20%, so the question I’ve asked myself is if I’d want to double my tax for not having to worry about being homeless or getting a serious disease. I’m leaning towards no, since of course one day I’m going to be a billionaire like every other American and don’t want half of it taken away. I would actually save money by being taxed at 20% and getting private health insurance, but then again I’m middle-class and can afford it. America is great if you have money, but Denmark is great for everyone.

What surprised me most about Denmark is their healthy job market. It’s almost guaranteed that a job will await every Dane after graduation, and I’m not talking about crappy jobs at McDonald’s or Walmart, but well-paying career positions. After taxes and the exorbitant high prices for basic goods, Danish people still live comfortably. No one is starving and you’ll have to look hard to find homeless people.

It’s no accident that the American media isn’t eager to discuss the many citizen benefits that countries like Denmark have. They are quick to do profiles on poor countries in the third-world, but they rarely write about the extensive services Scandinavian countries provide for all of their citizens, regardless of race or class. When they do talk about these countries, it’s usually about how budget cuts are looming for their “ailing” social models, as if the average American citizen is doing far better.

Unfortunately, there is a cost to providing your citizens everything they possibly need: you make them averse to taking risks. Why bother when you got it made in the shade? There is little incentive for entrepreneurship and striking it rich, even though the Ease of Doing Business Index ranks Denmark as number six, only one behind America. Danes would rather work for the man and do the minimum required of them to coast through the system than take a gamble. Being aggressive and taking risks may cost them some serious benefits, so they do what they need to in order to maintain a decent middle-class existence. While I don’t blame them, this mildly offends the entrepreneurial spirit within my American core.

The Government’s Role As Mother And Father

Thanks to its extensive services, the Danish government has replaced parents as the primary caregiver. The Danes decided that there was too much inequality in the system with the rich having access to all the benefits, so they constructed an egalitarian society. The government’s utopian visionaries told parents, “You don’t have to do anything but love your children. We’ll take care of the rest. Oh, and when you get old, we’ll take care of you, too.”

Since family is pushed out of the picture, one consequence is that Danish people very seldom talk about their families. I never saw a 20- or 30-something Danish adult with an elderly person, whereas in Poland I saw it a dozen times a day. The old people are pushed aside to be taken care of by the system, not by the kids, the opposite of what I saw in South America where the elders are cherished, often living in the same household as the younger generations. I’d bet that the average Danish person interacts with the government more than with their parents.

Another consequence of the Danish system is that women no longer need men. For hundreds of thousands of years, women have sought to marry powerful men with strong financial means in order to live a comfortable life (or to merely survive), but in Denmark this is not at all necessary. Danish women don’t need to find a man, because the government will take care of her and her cats, whether she is successful at dating or not. Her quality of life won’t be negatively affected if she happens to remain single until death, whereupon her cats will inherit her possessions according to Danish law.

Since a Danish woman is in no rush to find someone, she wants to hold out for her top choice instead of having to “settle” for any particular man while she’s still in her physical prime. The result is that Danish women like to sample men and play the field, thinking they have all the time in the world. They’re also less willing to change their behavior by adopting a pleasing figure or style that’s more likely to attract men. It’s no surprise that there’s a flood of sloppy 30-something women on dating sites, making Denmark one of the most popular countries where the Internet is used to find a mate.

In spite of the negatives, I think the Danish economic and welfare system is superior to the American system for one simple reason: it’s fair. They have achieved a near utopia of human equality, where everyone can educate themselves and seek employment without fear of possible bankruptcy from illness. Even the mentally decrepit and drug addicted are treated like human beings, meaning that everyone has an opportunity to rise up above their station. In the United States we have a bad habit of kicking people when they’re down. Watching people fall, especially the famous, is almost a national sport, but in Denmark, they put out a strong hand to help you back onto your feet.

I liken the United States to a jungle where everyone must fend for themselves. A lot of people don’t make it, but the ones that do can roam the land freely and suck on its glorious fruit. On the other hand, Denmark is like a pleasant zoo with scheduled feeding times and twenty-four-hour veterinarian care. While I’d prefer the American system if I was on top of the food chain, the average human being would be better served by the Danish system.

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The beautiful Colombian girl you fucked a couple years ago? Doesn’t matter. The 18-year-old with a perfect body who you raw dogged? Big deal. The doctor’s wife you seduced that let you drive around in her husband’s expensive toys? No one gives a fuck. You’re only as good as your last bang. The past is not water that you can carry over to the present, just an abstraction that grows dim in your mind with time.

I rode a little high into Latvia after banging two new girls during my final weekend in Poland. I was ready to keep the momentum going and do even better in my new home in Riga. The universe had other plans for me.

I swung wildly but was unable to connect with the ball. My first week I went out on Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, did countless approaches in almost ten different venues, both day and night, but had only two measly numbers to show for it. I was annoyed and angry because I thought I had passed the point of grinding it out, especially after coming from a country that was easy for me. The universe knew I was getting spoiled in Poland. It wanted me to be humbled again, to appreciate what I had. It began throwing curve balls to remind me of it really takes to succeed in the game.

I was beat by the time Saturday came around. I didn’t want to go out, and my thoughts constantly drifted back to Poland. I made myself snap out of it. Whatever made me successful there was not present in my new home, so I had to treat Poland as dead. I went to the coffee shop and wrote down a plan to get my Latvian flag from the things I had so far learned in my three days of experience. That night I walked out of the door with the plan in my pocket, telling myself that I couldn’t return home before 7am without exhausting all possibilities.

I got lucky on my third approach and returned home half past five with a Latvian girl. She had no idea that violating her pussy was the culmination of four grinding days where I questioned the decision to visit her city.

The universe doesn’t owe you anything. I don’t care what you’ve done in the past. I don’t care where you’ve been and who you’ve fucked, because there is nothing that says you are supposed to succeed today. No girl you talk to has to treat you well or be easy just because she’s not as hot as another girl you had a long time ago. All that matters is how committed you are to putting in time and effort towards your goal. Your game, your skill, your environment, and the level of difficulty will always change but as long as you work, you will succeed. Walk up to the universe, tell it you’re not spoiled, you’re not entitled, and then punch it in the face. Make it watch you put in that work.

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2. Makes her proud to be ugly. Go into any middle-of-the-road bar in a major city and what do you see? Overweight women with short hair, loose clothing, and flip-flops. Feminism has taught women that it’s okay for them to look like they just rolled out of bed and that any attempt to look “feminine” will make men desire them for their looks instead of their intellectual and philosophical brains. Evolution laughs. Men are attracted to beauty, and always will be. Next thing you know, American women will appear in public wearing pajamas.

3. Makes them argumentative, uppity, and difficult. Feminism has taught women to “speak your mind,” a euphemism for “bitch about everything.” They can let nothing rest that they even mildly disagree with, and rather start World War III about some insignificant matter than simply biting their tongue and changing the topic.

4. Makes them dependent on global corporations for lifestyle guidance. The feminist message has been co-opted by companies that aim to sell women more crap. Of course corporations love “equality” and having women in the workforce, because they can move more products and increase their profits. Modern day feminists like Naomi Wolf and Jessica Valenti, who try so hard to empower women, get their income from media and publishing companies that are part of global corporations which also put out a neverending shit stream of dubious dieting and exercise books. The main form of empowerment for women today is for them to spend their disposable income on the goods of multinational firms.

5. Makes it exceedingly hard for her to find a life partner that is equal or above to her level. Feminism has given women more money while taking away their biological need to have a family. Because a woman finds it naturally difficult to marry a man of lower means than herself, she simply remains single until death, with nothing but her cats to keep her company when she takes her last breath. Pushing faux equality has created a generation of impoverished men who make unsuitable husbands. Women are making more cash, men have more limited work options, and marriage is on the decline, threatening the very fabric of society. Great job, feminism.

6. Makes her overvalue alpha males, causing her to be pumped and dumped by dozens of suitors. The majority of American men have been brainwashed by the feminist message, making them the most pussified specimen the world has ever seen. The contrast this creates with the minority of alpha men remaining results in a perverse Pareto law where small amounts of men are sexually monopolizing a majority of the women. What will end up happening is that beta males will completely withdraw from the marriage market and into a world of interactive porn and video games. The powers-that-be won’t care as long as the Mexicans are still reproducing and H1B visas are granted to every Indian and Chinese person that applies.

7. Makes them unfit mothers who don’t know how to take care of a household. Have you ever dated an American woman who knows how to cook a meal that doesn’t involve frozen ingredients? If she can’t cook for you, how is she going to cook for your child? She won’t: the corporations will feed your son with their genetically modified foodstuff while she’s busy posting his pictures on Facebook in between nonsensical updates of how women make less than men for the same work. I hope your income is high enough that you can hire a maid or nanny, because American women have no skills or ability to properly raise another human being.

When society eventually does collapse because of feminism, I want to be there to hear the excuses that feminists offer for the decline, especially since they got absolutely everything they wanted. For them to have to face the failings of their utopia vision, to have men simply be unwilling to reproduce, will be similar to the fall of Russian Communism in 1989: unexpected and containing a transition period full of hardship, but with a whole lot of reason to celebrate for those of us who suffered under oppressive rule. I hope I’m alive when it all comes crashing down.

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The Newbie Trip (Argentina)

Itinerary: 7 days in Buenos Aires and 7 days in Cordoba

Why You Should Go: The country is relatively safe and has lots of sights, making it a great place to break your South American cherry. Most importantly, it has women that will wow you, especially if you’re coming from fat America. Tourist infrastructure is well-developed and easy to use, though beginner Spanish will make your trip more enjoyable.

Why You Shouldn’t Go: There’s a high chance you won’t get laid.

Buenos Aires

The Easy Grenades & Old Rocks Trip (Peru)

Itinerary: 7 days in Lima and 7 days in Cuzco, the launching point for Machu Picchu

Why You Should Go: It’s cheap as hell, the archaeological sites will keep you busy, and Peruvian women think the white man is god, making it an ideal trip for game beginners to get their feet wet with flagging (as long as they’re not too picky).

Why You Shouldn’t Go: Women are generally ugly and you’ll probably get a foodborne illness.

Machu Picchu

Fun In The Sun Trip (Brazil)

Itinerary: 7 days in Rio de Janeiro and 7 days in Florianopolis

Why You Should Go: Assuming you visit during our winter (December-March), you’ll enjoy nice beaches while trying to bang sexy women. Brazilian culture is by far the most exciting and colorful in South America.

Why You Shouldn’t Go: It’s expensive and the women are becoming increasingly snobby.

Ipanema

Nonstop Game Trip (Colombia)

Itinerary: 7 days in Bogotá and 7 days in Medellin

Why You Should Go: Colombia is made for 24-7 approaching, particularly during the day and on the internet. If you go hard you should be able to pick up a couple notches.

Why You Shouldn’t Go: Girls are flakey and don’t speak much English. Conversational Spanish is somewhat required.

Colombian ass

South America is a huge continent and offers dozens of additional cities that are worth a visit, but I believe the above four itineraries are best for guys who don’t have a whole lot of time for long-term exploration. They’ll give you good experience for future trips within the continent.

For more tips on good travel locations, check out my travel forum.

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There’s no guarantee you’ll be happy in a country no matter how much due diligence and research you do. Don’t travel unless you’re ready to take the good with the bad.

Don’t underestimate how much local guys will hate you for being successful with their women. Watch your back when rolling solo.

There is a point where having additional money, without fame or status, will not at all help you fuck more or better women. That amount is much less than you think.

Too much success drives you away from what made you successful in the first place.

There are no regrets if you failed after listening to your gut.

Fucking pussy gets old, but fucking young pussy never does.

Success is less great if you don’t have anyone to share it with.

Everything they say about European winters is true.

When you’ve been with enough fast women, it becomes impossible to wait for pussy. During the time you’d be waiting you can fuck something else just as good, if not better.

Life is much easier when you assume that every girl will flake on you all of the time.

There are organized movements in Western nations to eradicate gender, particularly masculinity. Losing this war will make it all but impossible for you to find a feminine woman who wants to serve your needs.

The happiness you experience from success cannot be bottled up to appreciate another day. You need to constantly seek out more success that is even better than your last. If you cannot top an achievement, you have peaked.

Having an apartment near your favorite bar or club dramatically increases your notch count.

Some countries are not worth figuring out. If it doesn’t work after you gave it your best shot, move on.

The more happiness you find outside of your country, the more hate and criticism you will get from those who still live in it. They will do everything in their power to make you come back and suffer with them.

If you’re feeling depressed or lonely in a foreign city, go out for a one hour walk in the center. Something will happen.

Don’t dismiss eye contact from women; it’s the primary way they show interest. Your response to eye contact from a pretty woman should be instant, like a reflex.

The biggest way that men self-sabotage themselves is overdrinking. It’s worse than being best friends with a cockblocker.

Foreign women are almost just as bad about not using condoms as American women.

The layout of a nightlife venue is just as important as the ratio of girls to guys. I can pick up better in a sausage fest with a favorable floor plan than a gigantic mega club with more girls.

It’s hard to find good clothes in many foreign countries. You’re eternally stuck with H&M and Zara.

Tourist apartments are always cheaper than hotels, but they are more comfortable and don’t make you seem like a sex tourist. I see no advantage in staying in hotels.

As much as you hate your country, you will defend it if it’s criticized by a foreigner.

If you’re going to wear a suit, it will be much better received if you wear it in a venue where there are no other guys in suits.

You can’t go back to what used to make you happy. You have to find new happiness.

You should learn the local language, even for a short stay. It improves your experiences and scores points with the girls.

If you’re going away for a while, write a diary for one month before your departure. If you ever get homesick on the road, read that diary. If that doesn’t cause you to stop being homesick, you’re probably not meant to live abroad.

The low point of an expat’s year is Christmas. Buy good food and presents for yourself to dull the depression.

Women highly value honesty from a man, as long as it doesn’t involve positive feelings you have for her.

Baking soda.

Fear is man’s greatest enemy. I don’t ask anyone for advice with something that involves risk because they will try to talk me out of it.

The best city in the world can suck in the off-season. Not only do you have to know where to go, but when.

It’s better to overpack than underpack.

The first thing you should do when you get into a city is buy a small bottle of vodka to arm your afterparty move.

Foreign girls like silences. Don’t be so eager to fill them.

If a book doesn’t excite you, isn’t teaching you anything you don’t already know, or doesn’t fascinate you, stop reading and find one that does. Finishing a crappy book is like dating a girl you don’t like.

There are many first world countries in Eastern Europe where the cost of living is half that of the United States. You don’t need to live in Peru or Thailand to see considerable savings.

Polish and Russian are excruciatingly hard to learn for English speakers.

Your haters increase in direct proportion to your influence.

Life will you throw you problems that you can’t immediately solve, or solve at all.

Feminists have successfully brainwashed men into thinking they’ll become unattractive to all women if they choose to remain bachelors. Truth is that a man’s best pussy-getting years starts at 30.

Some guys say they grew out of the game. Then you see his unattractive girlfriend and realize he never got good at it.

The only game that will always work, no matter where you are, is the numbers game.

It’s better for a girl to look at you and laugh than for her to look at you and offer no response at all.

Reading books is the most powerful thing you can do to gain the experience of life without experiencing life. I’ve learned more from reading last year than I have from four years in college.

You adapt to little increases to your happiness each year. The dream life you envisioned for yourself ten years ago will be seen as normal when you finally get it.

No one is looking out for your interests 100% of the time, not even your family. You’re always on your own.

Your brain is capable of so much more if you clear it of distractions. Learning is a form of meditation.

There’s a reason why foreign guys don’t travel to the United States to get laid.

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A lot of guys in their 30s and 40s missed the game boat during their youth. They grew up in a time when feminism was taking hold but before countermeasures had yet to be developed. Should they just curse their timing and forget about ever becoming good with women or should they pick up a game book and start reading?

The fact that every month of practicing game can yield significant gains tells me that it’s never too late. Even if you’re a 50-year-old guy, there are tons of concepts you can learn in the next year that will help your odds with women.

The process is similar to learning a language after your 20s. I won’t ever become fluent in Polish, but studying one hour a day for a couple months (at the age of 32) allowed me to connect with more Polish people. I could ask for directions, order what I wanted from a restaurant or coffee shop, and have simple chats with women who didn’t speak English. My goal wasn’t complete mastery of the language, but being able to do more than I could before. You should have the same goal with game.

The only thing that older men need to be careful with is which school of game they learn. It wouldn’t make much sense to duplicate Mystery’s club game when their ages make them better suited for hotel lounges, coffee shops, or artistic venues. They must select the game advice that would fit well with the lifestyle of a more mature man. I predict in the next few years you’ll see more books dedicated to serving this age group.

Game is just an assembly of tools to increase your value to women. While it does give you specific lines and techniques, it also teaches you to be the best man you can be by hitting the gym, becoming well read, gaining interesting experiences through travel or hobbies, and having great answers to typical questions that women ask. I don’t know of a single man who wouldn’t be helped by that.

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After writing guides for three South American countries, and getting no local reaction besides a few hater comments on my blog, I was expecting more of the same when I released Bang Iceland. Instead, every major Icelandic media outlet reported about the book. Because the coverage was almost universally negative, for one week in November I was the most hated foreigner in Iceland.

Click here to view the timeline of how it all went down.

I received dozens of negative messages that included the occasional threat of being beat up if I choose to return to the island. A few said that I broke a law and would be pursued across Europe (one guy said I committed copyright infringement by using the Icelandic flag on the cover). The coverage jumped the shark when Iceland’s largest feminist organization denounced me via their morbidly obese spokesperson. In a case of “the enemy of my enemy is my friend,” the responses then turned slightly in my favor since apparently a vocal minority of the Icelandic population hate feminists.

I was in Poland when this was happening. I’m not shy of attention, but I began to get nervous and paranoid when the stories started coming in. I felt vulnerable that an entire country was against me, and wondered if they would use their power to crush me in some way (Julian Assange?). I asked my sister for advice and she said to stand up tall and attack them back, but by that time the coverage waned and Icelandic life went back to normal.

The irony of Iceland’s reaction is that it was far more intense than less progressive or liberal countries I’ve written about. It appears that the more fat feminists a country has, the more angry the populace will be when it comes to game teachings that help men how to sleep with women. Have you forgotten the mockery that Neil Strauss and Mystery had to endure when The Game came out in the States six years ago? While cliche PUAs are a sideshow for most, feminist countries particularly don’t like it when you teach anything that helps men get what they want from women.

Last year Colin from the Expat Chronicles was questioned by the Colombian government after his writings exposed some uncomfortable truths in that country. Locals only want you to write about how great their country is, not that the women like fucking foreign men, the country is a shithole, or that government agents are corrupt. In the case of Iceland, they didn’t want me saying that Icelandic girls were sluts. Icelanders, the shyest people I’ve ever met, gathered their courage on internet forums and Facebook to make fun of my appearance, call me a liar, say I was a typical American idiot, and threaten me with bogus laws so I’d “unpublish” the book, all while those instant bangs that I accurately described still went down every Friday and Saturday night in Reykjavik. Iceland calls itself a “global haven for free speech,” but the minute something was published that didn’t suck their dick, they were calling for censorship.

I will be releasing Don’t Bang Denmark in a couple weeks. While I don’t expect a shitshorm like I got from proud little Iceland, I have to accept the possibility that I may not be able to happily return to countries that strongly disagree with my writings. The wave of rage from Iceland has actually followed me into the Baltics, with local sites spreading “warning” calls of my arrival as if I was a dangerous serial killer. Sadly, when it comes to men chasing skirts, Europe’s views are a couple decades behind America.

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REVIEWS:

Ancient Rome

This is one of the most interesting books I’ve ever read. The author does a great job of turning ancient history into a page turner full of drama and intrigue. Assuming your Roman history knowledge is as poor as mine (public schools), over 90% of the information in this book will be new. It describes six of Rome’s most important periods: the revolution inspired by Gracchus, the rules of Caesar, Nero, and Constantine, the Jewish rebellion, and the events that led to Rome’s fall.

What I got most out of the book was identifying the rhyming nature of history. Do any of these points sound familiar?

• “In becoming a superpower, Rome, so it was said, abandoned the very values with which it had won its supremacy.”
• Roman rulers used “self-defense” pretexts to invade other countries, with hawks criticizing doves for not being patriotic.
• War benefited the Roman elite before the masses.
• The aggressor nation will state conditions to avoid war that are impossible for the antagonist country to comply with.
• “The battle ahead was about liberty and justice winning out over tyranny.”
• Roman elite hated to make concessions. They’d fight to the death instead of give an inch to the well-being of the masses. They felt that they earned it, even though they used hook and crook to amass their wealth.
• The people seen as “barbarians” gradually wore down the empire, causing it to spend itself into bankruptcy.

There is a constant battle between the elites and masses, with ebbs and flows of power over an empire’s life. Great leaders pick a side to further their own glory, changing the course of history. What’s sad about America is that we haven’t even made it to the 250 year mark yet are already suffering from signs of decline. Carthage, an empire that most people have never heard of, survived for 700 years. Hell, there are coffee shops in Italy that are older than America.

If you liked The 48 Laws Of Power, reading this book is like going directly to the source. Buildings grow taller and technology get ever more advanced, but the human need for power and domination remains the same. Men must seize power when the opportunity arises because if they don’t, they will languish alone in bitterness to watch others take what they could’ve had.

“Rome had been on a slippery slope of moral decline ever since the sack of Carthage in 146 BC. Without the fear of that Mediterranean power to keep it in check, Rome had free rein to indulge in the selfish passions of greed and domination. Now, in the sack of Rome, that process had come to its logical, revolutionary conclusion. All human, earthly cities—even the new Christianized Rome of Constantine—were transitory and ephemeral…”

Highly recommended.

The 50th Law

This book is like a sequel to The 48 Laws Of Power, using 50 Cent’s story as a backdrop on how power can be gained or lost. If you loved 48 Laws, which most of you have, just stop reading this review and buy The 50th Law right now. It’s written in the same style, where real-life examples are used to bring home the author’s points. A lot of what the book had was review for me, but I was still unable to put it down, soaking up the wisdom as fast as I could. Here are some points you’ll read about:

• Expose yourself to what you fear.
• Soft environments make you soft.
• If you depend on others for too long you lose the ability to take care of yourself.
• You should be even more vigilant when things are going well.
• Constantly adapt to your circumstances.
• Don’t try to please others.
• Always be willing to walk away.
• Embrace death. Let it motivate you.
• There is no perfect opportunity to strike.
• You are only free when others are unable to disappoint you.
• More preparation will not necessarily lead to a better outcome.
• Talent and good intentions are not enough; be fearless and strategic.
• Resist the temptation to want to depend on others.
• “Never be a minion, always be an owner.”

This is an inadvertent manual on how to quit the grind and be your own boss. Read the list again; it’s practically a blueprint for location independent living.

One thing the book did was give me newfound respect for 50 Cent. I’ve always thought him to be a simple, if not silly, rapper, but turns out he’s one of the sharpest men that has ever come from the hood. If you forget about him selling crack to his community, he’s a classic American success story (he makes Drake seem like a member of the table tennis team).

With 50 Cent’s story in my head after reading the book, I wanted to make shit happen. You want to be a success like 50. In that respect, this book is definitely more motivating than 48 Laws.

The book also has tons of motivational quotes, which I think is worth the price of admission alone. My only complaint is that Robert Greene has stuck to his style of writing in generalities, almost like a cheesy psychic. He has an outcome that he wants to go for and will speak in vague terms to back that outcome up. You wonder if he just made it up as he went along. Nonetheless, this book gets my stamp of approval and should be required reading for all men.

“People who cannot suffer can never grow up, can never discover who they are.” —James Baldwin

“I was born alone and I will die alone. I’ve got to do what’s right for me and not live my life the way anybody else wants it.” —50 Cent

“The kid in the school yard who doesn’t want to fight always leaves with a black eye. If you indicate you’ll do anything to avoid trouble, that’s when you get trouble.” —50 Cent

“When fortune wants to advance a new prince… she creates enemies for him, making them launch campaigns against him so that he is compelled to overcome them and climb higher on the ladder.” —Niccolo Machiavelli

“Events in life are not negative or positive. They are completely neutral. The universe does not care about your fate; it is indifferent to the violence that may hit you or to death itself. Things merely happen to you.”

Black Passenger Yellow Cabs

A black man of Jamaican descent goes to Japan to teach English for several years. In the process he bangs over 40 women, goes through several abortions with his girlfriends, comes to grips with his inner demons and whoring ways, and finally begins the progress of settling down. This book offers very detailed cultural and sexual observations of Japan, along with brutally honest personal introspection.

Not only is the author an ass man who uses both day and night game to achieve his sexual goals, but he also likes banging raw. He uses sex slang similar to what I use to describe scores with my friends (it’s impressive how many metaphors he came up to describe a boner). He even has game moves that ring familiar. For example, he likes whipping out his dick, something that is part of any Virgle Kent sex story. His main opener, “You look like you speak English,” is something I’ve used many times in the past. The book was like a friend telling me his sexual exploits and addiction to Asian women, with asides that give you facts and analysis on the culture. It’s refreshing to see a natural player who grew up independent of the current game wave.

“Running counter to natural human thinking, the Japanese appear in general to minimize pleasure and maximize pain. All of life is an unending, character building shugyou (endurance course) to develop one’s strength.”

He paints a picture of Japanese girls that are not entirely favorable: bad teeth and breath, immature personalities caused by poor social development, inhibited natures, and backwards thinking from believing in ancestral rules meant to “save face.” On the other hand, Japanese girls have hyper-clean pussies that are easy to bring to orgasm. They’re also so insecure that they can’t leave the house without makeup or name-brand fashions. Most importantly, they love foreign men (especially white and black men).

The author eviscerates Japanese men. They are the most beta of the beta, sexual androgens who are more in love with their boss than their woman. The married ones essentially outsource sex with their wives to foreign men by turning a not-so-blind eye to the practice. The others simply withdraw from society into a world of manga, video games, and porn.

Like with many other Japanese expats, he came to find the country and its people hard to deal with, leaving after seven years…

“The thrill was gone and it was no longer exciting to have this revolving army of women flowing to and from my apartment. I had simply outgrown the need.”

There are two flaws in this book. First, he’s an admitted feminist. He constantly complains about how Japanese women are being subjugated by the men. At the same time he takes advantage of Japanese women for sexual gain, he cites studies that show Japanese women are being taken advantage of by the culture. He actually thinks feminism in Japan would lead to an increase in birth rates, not bothering to look at the low birth rates in countries where feminists dominate.

Second problem is the book is way too long. With most tension popped by the second half, I felt like I was reading a blog with long entries instead a book more tightly tied together. My interest waned towards the end as it seemed like escapades were being repeated. Other than these complaints, I consider this book a fun sequel of sorts to An African In Greenland, with enough sex stories to give you a complete picture on how it’s like to get laid in Japan. Reading it makes you feel like you’re already halfway to getting your Japanese flag.

The Breakdown Of Nations

(This review refers to the abridged version of this book which you can download here.)

“It is only in small states that there can be true democracy, because it is only there that the citizen can have some direct influence over the governing institutions; only there that economic problems become tractable and controllable, and economic lives become more rational; only there that culture can flourish without the diversion of money and energy into statis pomp and military adventure; only there that the individual in all dimensions can flourish free of systematic social and governmental pressures.”

In other words, smaller is better. The author makes a convincing argument that a country’s misery stems from its bigness, not its lack of power. The size is like a cancer, slowing killing the host until it either devours itself from within, gets subdued by another rising power, or splits into smaller states.

“The proposal of the national theory to cure the world’s misery by eliminating the evil-doing nation would lead us nowhere. For the moment one evil-doer disappears, the vacancy, as post-World-War-II developments have amply shown, will promptly be filled from the unsuspected but ever willing ranks of the previous defenders of better causes.”

The common denominator in nations committing atrocities is simply having the power to commit those atrocities. Aggressive humans will start wars because they think they can win and won’t be punished for it. The author believes that the problem lies with possessing great power, a phenomenon that occurs in large super states. If you reverse the trend towards bigness by keeping countries small, you’ll have more responsive governments that are less likely to try to dominate the world.

Small states have limited resources and power, making them unable to engage in a modern war that can cause more destruction than all medieval wars combined. The small state will also be more flexible and responsible in solving social and economic problems. A modern example of this is Iceland, which has already recovered after a collapse of its economy three years ago.

“Great power attracts by its very nature the strong rather than the wise, and autocrats rather than democrats.”

Big states don’t serve the individual, only a handful of artificially created population segments. It serves “society,” not you. This allows the super state to naturally drift to totalitarianism because it’s the most efficient means to control a large population of diverse tribes.

Written fifty years ago, this book not only predicted American imperialistic ambitions as a logical behavior of world power, but also the problems that coincide with those ambitions. The author, now dead, believed that America would spend itself into oblivion, resulting in an increase of state power that attempts to control the citizenry.

Into the Buzzsaw

This book argues that the American media is controlled by a handful of globalized companies obsessed with profit and ratings instead of truth. Several journalists contribute articles on a wide array of geo-political incidents that American people have been hoodwinked on, arguing that “responsible journalism” is now nothing but a euphemism for protecting institutions and the government.

“Oil context, geographical context, ruling-class context, historical context—all are hidden from the average American.”

A few things you’ll learn about…

• The great oil game and how that affects modern conflicts in the Middle East.
• Illegal activities by the CIA (Cocaine Importing Agency) in Bolivia, Venezuela, Afghanistan, Southeast Asia, and Afghanistan.
• How the Washington Post sends sensitive stories to the government for approval before publication.
• Strong evidence that TWA 800 was accidentally shot down by a Navy missile during a training exercise.
• Government strategy for relentlessly pursuing those trying to uncover the truth.
• How globalized companies that own media outlets depend on American hegemony for ever increasing profits, ensuring they will never take on the American government.

“The word ‘conspiracy’ is commonly used now to malign those who raise unpopular questions about sensitive issues. The fact is conspiracies do exist.”

Reading a book like this makes me feel that a curtain is lowered in front of all of us, that everything we hear in the “free media” is theater, not much unlike Russian or Chinese media. I have long since stopped accepting any report that gets most of its facts from the government. No one, including your leaders, should get the benefit of the doubt. Make them prove it.

Freedom Twenty-Five

This is a book that might as well be titled, “Introduction To The Red Pill.” In five chapters (Purpose, Wisdom, Sex, Money, Health), Frost gives you tips to escape the grinding Western cog. At the same time he offers a window into his journey to self-improvement and of dumping the 9-to-5.

This book is best served as an introduction to those either not heavily exposed to Manosphere writing or those who are new to it, since he spends roughly equal time arguing for the lifestyle as providing details on duplicating it. I consider it more of a gateway drug to digging deeper in other works, depending on what you need to work most on. For example, I mostly agreed on the section where he advocated for the Paleo diet, but I would still need to look up additional Paleo resources in order to fully implement it into my life.

If you’re knee-deep in my blog and others, the information will seem introductory in nature, but for beta males it’s an eye-opening work that will question the choices they’ve made in life, and then put them on the right path. Therefore I recommend it mostly for newbies who have not yet started their self-improvement journey. It will offer a stern wake-up to those who are coasting along and waiting for magic to happen.

This an ambitious work aimed to help men live better lives, and the first that I’ve seen that combines all features of “red pill” thinking into one work. While I think the book could use some more action item specifics, it was a strong effort that will help guys who aren’t yet there. I don’t think authors should be supported merely for self-publishing on their own dime, but Frost should be rewarded for trying to connect the lifestyle dots in this book, something that very few other authors have attempted. You can read his blog here.

“My problem was a lack of purpose. I was, like so many in this generation, adrift. I had no mission. No destiny. I was a sack of flesh and DNA waiting to expire, no matter what my job title was or what degrees I had.”

“We are the TL;DR generation.”

“We are rebelling against a culture of laziness, mediocrity and spiritual poverty. We are rebelling against a world that encourages us to be passive, risk-averse and unremarkable.”

The Art Of Love

“Women like being hurt. What they like to give, they love to be robbed of.”

I couldn’t help but read what is arguably the oldest game book is existence, written by Ovid around 2 CE. Ovid teaches you how to be a gentleman who understand’s what turns women on. While a lot of his advice is meant for a time where chivalry was rewarded, it’s not surprising to see that many of his lessons still hold true today. Here are some of them:

• Don’t let her think she’s the only girl you’re working on.
• Go where the women are.
• The best place to meet women is the theater. It’s a target-rich environment with a wide variety to choose from.
• The second-best place to meet them is the circus because you sit so close to other people. Start an elderly chat about the animals.
• Some women want to sleep with men they fear.
• Touch her by pretending to flick dust off her blouse.
• Always try to speak with confidence. If you’re drawing a blank, make it up.
• Loosen her up with wine; it’s fuel to the fire of attraction. But don’t get too drunk because you’ll make mistakes.
• Be careful of beer goggles. Don’t judge her appearance until you get her out in the day light.
• All girls want sex but they pretend they don’t.
• There is no optimum strategy for disabling the maid cockblocker, but definitely don’t give her too much attention. Also don’t assume that someone close to you like a blood relative won’t block you.
• Ignore her on her birthday. She will only think of the man who didn’t buy her a gift.
• Keep her hopeful by making promises, then break them (i.e., flake on her).
• Don’t be stuffy and business-like. Be engaging and say what you want to say.
• Be persistent. She won’t tell you to seduce her.
• It’s her loss if she rejects you.
• Mirror her body language.
• Make sure your clothes are well-fitted. Don’t look like a goof.
• If you want to say something risky, pretend you’re drunk. You can use that as an excuse in case it’s not received well.
• Customize your game depending on the girl you’re talking to.
• Display your strengths to her while minimizing your weaknesses.
• Compliment the parts of her that you think she’s insecure about.

This book could also be called Bang Roman Empire for its specific venue advice on where to find women.

Besides the novelty factor of reading an ancient game manual, the book itself was a chore to read. The list I shared with you above is the gist of the whole thing, though I must add that beta game is definitely the heart of Ovid’s style, even though it’s more tactical than the more pathetic variant we see practiced today. Back then, strategic compliments and effusive charm got the job done before there were one-night stands and the ability to isolate girls away from her entourage (in Ovid’s time women married exceptionally young, so every one of his approaches was on a married woman).

I wonder what someone in 2,000 years will think of us if they discovered a copy of Bang. My guess: “They had sex? Gross! Now where did I leave my sexbot…”

A Movable Feast

This book is an autobiographical account of Ernest Hemingway’s young life in Paris during the 1920s while mired in poverty trying to get his writing career off the ground. I became interested in it after watching Woody Allen’s excellent movie Midnight In Paris, about a modern man’s journey back in time to Paris during the same time that Hemingway and friends produced their finest works. The movie portrays Hemingway as a blunt, serious man who speaks in powerful bursts of straight talk.

The prose wasn’t exactly gripping, but I found it far more interesting than his boring work The Sun Always Rises. It simply contained thoughts and events of a writer’s life, along with descriptions of his friends Ezra Pound, Gertrude Stein, and F. Scott Fitzgerald, the latter of which would have been more prolific had it not been for his controlling, jealous, and bipolar wife.

You’ll be interested in A Movable Feast if you want to learn more about Hemingway or the artists who were famous during his time. Overall it was a pleasant read.

“All you have to do is write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence that you know.”

Time For Outrage

More an essay than a book, Time For Outrage puts the onus on you to fight the system. You can’t complain about injustices in the world unless you are fighting those injustices. Do something, and do it now. This essay is like your cranky grandfather telling you to stop being a pussy and fight for what you believe in.

“‘There’s nothing I can do; I get by’—adopting this mindset will deprive you of one of the fundamental qualities of being human: outrage. Our capacity for protest is indispensable, as is our freedom to engage.”

I’m doing my part by ragging on shameful women.

Thinking, Fast And Slow

Your brain makes decisions without conscious thought by using two mental processing systems. One is fast and intuitive (system one), controlled by your unconscious, and the other is slower and deliberate (system two), controlled by your conscious. Your brain does everything it can to process decisions using the first system since it takes less energy, but it’s often prone to error. People who are less rational and intelligent are more prone to using the first system for more complex situations, making them more likely to fall for logical traps and biases.

For example, when you’re driving you use system one, but when you’re looking for a specific address you switch to system two, which explains why you turn down the music or stop talking to a passenger (system two doesn’t like to be distracted). Since system two takes a high amount of self-control and mental energy, it actually can make you feel tired and depleted. This is why a night of talking to girls can make you feel exhausted even though you did very little physical activity (you’ve been using system two for many continuous hours). Your brain will do everything possible to avoid such dutiful thought, preferring to stay in auto-pilot, which takes the least amount of energy. In the book The War of Art, Steven Pressfield called this “resistance.” Your brain doesn’t want to stay in system two long enough to complete a large project like a book.

The problem with psychological studies, which this book is based on, is that it doesn’t duplicate real-world behavior. Most of the artificially created experiments are done in classrooms on Western students who want to get their study credit as quickly and easily as possible. I think they hint at how the brain works, but ultimately psychological studies are based on research that is not transferable or directly observable outside of the university. Plus even the author admits that most psychologists are morons when it comes to statistics, continually putting out studies with sample sizes so small that they say absolutely nothing.

Psychology also doesn’t give action items that can improve other people’s lives. This book says things like “Don’t be so trusting of your instincts” or “Be skeptical of sales tactics,” but those are vague pieces of advice you can pick up in an old issue of Readers Digest. More about psychology can be picked up in the biographies of great men than a compilation of studies.

I know you’ve read Malcolm Gladwell’s books, but have they helped your life? They were fun reads that gave you knowledge like “the tipping point,” but little to apply it with (e.g., how to create a tipping point). This particular book will not help you with your career, love life, or personal life. It was like reading trivia.

Ultimately the field of psychology has done little to make people happier or to uncover life’s wisdom. While reading this book’s run-down of cute classroom studies, I’m thinking, “Yeah, so?” An active life well-lived is all you need to understand how human beings think. Ironically, self-help business books like The 48 Laws Of Power or The 50th Rule, which are based on history and the experiences of man, give you far more wisdom that mainstream psychology books.

I got the point of this book in its first 100 pages and stopped reading.

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