Luke Ford

From the Chateau: Bonus God Game routine: After dressing in your Sunday best, kneel at the foot of your bed while she’s still in it half-asleep, wondering if you’re for real, and pray, “Dear Lord, wash the taint of carnal sin from me, and spare this woman your divine retribution. Show mercy on your wayward flock. Amen….Oh darlin’ there’s leftover pot roast in the fridge if you get hungry later.”

Why does this work?

Chicks dig the jerk with a heart of gold. (Bust expectations to crest poon vibrations.)

The bigger reason is that sheilas get all confuse’d-like and tingly when their man ignores them for a higher purpose.

The beta mangina’s credo is “there shall be no other god above me than the goddess whose pussy pedestal I swear to polish unto my last day”, and we can see how arousing that is for women. (Not very.) But the jerkboy who knows the value of God Game has placed a higher power above pussy power.

In fact, I’m convinced that the abandonment of Christianity and rapid secularization of the West removed a critical pillar supporting the natural hierarchy from women -> man -> God. When man no longer had God’s pearly gates to polish, his worship was redirected to the pussy below him. But women are constitutionally repulsed by men who worship them (being the object of worship goes against the inclination of women to submit to a sexy, dominant power), so secularism has had the knock on effect of hardening women’s feelings toward the growing brigade of supplicating secular beta manginas. Women have become resentful of the pussy pedestals onto which their areligious men have placed them, and they have reacted to this unnatural state of no-affairs by lashing out at feeb betas and by themselves masculinizing to fill the masculinity void.

Natural born alpha male jerkboys who haven’t lost that supernatural feeling know that God is the perfect foil for wanton woman, serving the role of the “other woman” who incites romance-intensifying jealousy and neediness in his earthly woman. God is an HB10 who shuns careerist cuntery for nurturing femininity and boundless few-strings-attached love. That’s the source of some serous mortal female envy.

From an email to the Chateau:

In case there are younger guys reading, I want to (re)tell the story about what got me to think about this subject (I’ve written this before elsewhere). One of the sad aspects of growing old is that when you look back at your life, people and things that once seemed trivial become more important than you realized in retrospect.

The first time I ever set foot on college campus, at Freshman Orientation, I met a sweet, very inexperienced girl from a small town. Within hours we were “together.” That night at the sleepover in the dorms we kissed — which I practically had to teach her to do.

But she was “cute” and not sexy or beautiful. She also looked about 12 years old and had no sense of style. All of this and her “small town-ness” put me off. I wanted the hot chick(s).

Which I did get. When I returned home after orientation I started dating a high school hottie I’d been after for a while. I also blew off Orientation Girl without a second thought and without any apparent guilt (until now, ironically enough).

I had a lot of fun in college and dated the aforementioned high school girl as we went through college. But she left for California after graduation. After that I was thrown into the early ’20s dating market. And by then you start to get jaded and meet people who are even more jaded: The women with multiple abortions, countless partners, strange diseases and habits, etc.

Decades later, I was able to track Freshman Orientation Girl down on Facebook. She got married and stayed married (to someone who is a lot like me, funny enough). She looked too young back in college, which was bad. Now that quality is good.

My advice to any young guy reading this is that you probably already know the woman who would make a great wife, but you’re passing her up to ride the male version of the carousel. Unless women like these become young widows, you won’t have the chance to meet them again because they get pulled off the market and stay off the market. Forever.