Why Can’t We Separate The Personal From The Political?

Being too friendly with today's villains.

Color me confused that in today’s modern world of global communication,  we appear to still be in those fraught times where the Chinese don’t want you getting too cushy with any members of the Mongol horde and contact might get you viewed as spy and saboteur.  Don’t even go near their horses.

Since when did life become Saul Alinsky’s Rules For Radicals that’s now applied to everyone and every damned sphere of life?

After the events of Florida’s school shooting  – which looks far more disturbing in how it came about via deliberate changes to school discipline and policing  – social media and the internet in general became it’s usual shouting match and echo chamber that ensues after any mass shooting.

What alarmed me in particular this time was that to some gun control advocates, anyone who didn’t denounce the NRA as a terrorist organization or opposed gun control was personally responsible for the shooting and was of course a vile, despicable, human being who supports kids being murdered.

That’s a pretty easy strawman to beat in public for an applauding mob.   But wait, are’t these the same people who are interested in diversity?  Not when it comes to worldview and politics apparently.   In fact dissenters need to be isolated, dehumanized, and possibly targeted.   If you can cost them friends and family as well as various public shamings, all the better right?

Welcome to conversation in the 21st century on the internet which is now spilling over into people’s actual real lives.  Rid yourself of dialogue and arm yourself with a cell phone and your targets contact information and workplace details that can be submitted to a two minute hate twitter mob.

Have the wrong opinions and be at the wrong rallies and you can be beaten by AntiFa to the applause of self-professed very tolerant people.  They aren’t humans after all, they are apparently fascists and violence against them is justified.   (You don’t want to end up like AntiFa.)

Trump supporters being attacked by various mobs such as AntiFa. (One though is of the white disabled kid who was “kidnapped” in Chicago.)

Perhaps we are much more divided in terms of worldview and culture in America then we ever have been, but since when did dissenting views equal incompatibility with even spending time or associating with someone?  When did it start to approach being okay with violence toward them?

Recently I was having a conversation with a family member – one that I very much respect -who was surprised at how I could become “friends” with someone in the Dissident Right who my family member considered to have rather reprehensible views. (Granted, most of my family members would consider him to have said reprehensible views.)

He was particular surprised by me using the word friend.  Why would you become friends with someone with views and speech seen as inexcusable or unacceptable?  (While I don’t agree with this friend on everything, he is still a friend.)

Well regardless of where you are on the political spectrum, it’s a damn good question.

How I Became a Deplorable With Detestable Views

Picking my friends, associates, or villainous enemies to be denounced on twitter based on what they think or hide in perspective closets has always simply been a matter of how and where I meet people.

Hookah lounges. Bars. Concerts. Churches. Raucous Parties. Parties I will not mention.  Internet Forums. Gaming Circles. Gaming Servers. Family functions. Work.  My Old Campus.

Years ago before Trump was a thing, I used to play an online browser game called Astro Empires. While I’ve retained a friend from that game, one other “friend” – a rather progressive one – on Facebook told me he couldn’t be friends with me anymore because my views were detestable.   We even really enjoyed soccer too!   (At that time I was first stumbling across the Manosphere.)

When I reflected upon that moment, the recent conversation I had between me and my family member prompted that EUREKA moment in my puny bigoted backwards brain; plenty of people today view life style, worldview, political, or even cultural differences and disagreements as the whole of a person.

Sad.

If their views are too far out there or “offensive”, their friendship is something that’s found to be shocking.  I find this notion troubling as to what it implies; you are what you secretly dare to ponder upon in the late night hours when you entertain crimethink thoughts about the nature of man, society, and any other specifically touchy controversial subjects where voicing opinions on what you actually think could get you fired from your job because guilt by association.

Talking to people, associating with them, or even communicating or working with them on mutually agreed ideas – even if you differ with them on everything else is certainly not allowed.

What happened to Quinn Norton, which while it certainly didn’t happen to me reminds me of myself.   She got fired hours after being hired by the New York Times for talking with the wrong people. Quinn dared to “associate” with Weev or the greatest deviant villain alive on the internet today, Andrew Aurenheimer founder of the Daily Stormer.  Whoops.

Obviously Quinn is the opposite of a Nazi, but the fact that she had communicated with him on just ONE idea they shared the same opinion on and that she felt was important produced some sort of alternate internet depiction of her as a Nazi.

I was called a Nazi because of my friendship with the infamous neo-Nazi known on the internet as weev—his given name is Andrew Auernheimer; he helps run the anti-Semitic website The Daily Stormer. In my pacifism, I can’t reject a friendship, even when a friend has taken such a horrifying path. I am not the judge of who is capable of improving as a person.

 

This philosophy also requires me to confront him about his terrible beliefs and their terrible consequences. I have been doing this since before his brief time as a cause célèbre in 2012—I believe it’d be hypocritical for me to turn away from this obligation. weev is just one of many terrible people I’ve cared for in my life.

 

I don’t support what my terrible friend believes or does. But I strongly advocate for people with a good sense of themselves and their values to engage with their terrible friends, coworkers, and relatives, to lovingly confront them for as long as it takes, and it would be wrong to not do so myself. I had what I now see as the advantage of coming from a family of terrible people.

 

This taught me that not everyone worthy of love is worthy of emulation. It also taught me that being given terrible ideas is not a destiny, and that intervention can change lives.

One article that covered her reaction to her Twitter scalping had this particular gem of a comment posted:

“There’s a big difference between being friends with people in private and changing their minds personally, one-by-one, and being friends with people publicly and normalizing their BS. If friendship with the Nazi is so important to her, let them be friends. But if it’s part of her public persona, that makes it part of NYT’s public persona, that makes a big cultural voice voting for white supremacy – welcome to 2018. Everyone can see everything, everyone can hear everything.”

Right there in this tripe of slime comment is everything that is wrong with social media, the internet, and our outrage culture in general.  I’m picking on this comment in particular because this is EXACTLY the kind of attitude I see reflected by so many saintly twitter and social media stake burners when they light their torches.

Being friends with bad people – or those deemed to be by our new cultural overlords – is the same thing as “normalizing” their views.   Pious peasants don’t associate with heretic harbingers or they risk becoming them or promoting them.

Even if you are friends with a Troll,  Sauron, Nazi or worse -a Communist considering their body count in the 20th century – talking, eating, communicating, gaming, participating in gay orgies, or shooting the shit with them isn’t going to “Normalize” anything.

We aren’t our political or worldview beliefs.  We are Jack, Jon, Joan, and June who are living life in the 21st century in the digital age afflicted by social media Popes who think that too many “radical” blog posts or social media rants are the absolute embodiment of what someone is 24/7.

Can’t the friend police ever take a damned break?  Don’t they have lives? Is this really what they want to reflect upon gloriously when on their death beds?

I always viewed having various friends and associates like a 9-5 job where after you got done talking about what you thought – no matter how heinous it was deemed to be, you then went on with your life.  You kept drinking beer, smoking stogies, and telling stories late into the night with them.

In fact,  I would imagine myself as a professor or his neighbor.  I could have a daily talk with some uber male feminist ally like Michael Kimmel, have very different conclusions, and go back to grabbing a beer with him later while throwing darts.

The disagreements, while fundamental to our worldview differences and how we choose to life life and spend time would fade while we live our normal lives. One would leave work, go home, unwind, and enjoy time with family and friends.  Another would go to the bar, play softball or volleyball, or watch the newest Game Of Thrones episode together.

That right there. Normal life.

Journey Of Self Discovery

When you form your worldview and outlook on life, it happens over time – often in a kind of butterfly and domino effect of situations, events, friends, and where you spend your time.   It’s a journey, just maybe not as adventurous and  epic as something out of Lord Of The Rings.

I’m far from a modern day Jesus, but I  have and do associate with plenty of sinners, reprobates, and people who are today’s version of heretics.

Lately there’s been a wave of miserly curmudgeons who want to dictate who you can and can’t hang with.  If you deviate, you are labeled some sort of ist /ism or more frequently a fascist or Nazi lover.

It’s not like I went out trying to make friends with hardcore druggies, dangerous online deviants, violent biker types, or Molotov cocktail wielding AntiFa activists.  Rather I simply kept looking for the truth and I was going to wherever it led.

I wanted to find out who I was.   Being drawn to controversy, mischievous and dirty humor, abstract in-the-clouds freedom of speech ideals, gaming, history, rebellion, cigars and smoking, etc all played apart in the paths I would choose at the forks in the road.

In fact, it was similar creating a character class with attributes in an RPG.  I was forging an identity as there were flaws in my current thinking and approach at the time that left me feeling like I was wasting away in the wind while others clearly were not.

What led me even more into the devious, deviant, and every “ist” and “ism” under the sun circles is the simple fact that they were as hostile as I was to control over freedom of association.

Not once did the mean miserly misogynists sexist racists in the manosphere writhe in constant shouting, shaming, and denunciation of myself for being friends with feminists, social justice advocates, Black Israelites, “liberals”, Trump haters, ect.

Neither did those in the #GamerGate, the Dissident Right, and even in horrible dangerous despicable your-soul-may-perish-for-eternity places like the Roosh V forum.

In fact,  not once did some White Nationalist or Supremacists types I talked to flip shit over the fact I talked to Jews, had Jewish friends, and didn’t loathe them.  Even in the case of me being mixed race, my family being mixed race of various sorts, and plenty of friends and associates being every kind of ethnicity, race, culture, factions and members of various “groups”  did this occur.

After a while, I realized where the real “bigots” were coming from and who was surprisingly far more “tolerant” despite having all sorts of views I didn’t agree with.  At the end of the day, I didn’t have to be fully 100% on board with Nazis jackbooting in Harlem with a Hivemind to agree with them that feminism is bad thing.

Look what happens to people like Laci Green who are still ardent feminists and social justice advocates who dared to ask questions and not be completely in lockstep.  They of course get all the nasty labels deliberately designed to rid them of their humanity, making them acceptable targets.

After all, if someone isn’t human and their views have no place in “acceptable” society, then there are no rules that limit what you can do to them.  The insane exaggerated hyperbole and straw-men they are tarred with is therefore not only “acceptable” but apparently some sort of cosmic justice.

Dissenters must be squashed.  For some in uber progressive circles where they spiritually and mentally self-mutilate themselves for not being better allies, they reach a breaking point.   The term “Peak Trans” comes to mind.  Now they not actually suddenly jump to the right politically, but they end up realizing that they can’t survive in a hive mind which allows for no free thinking.

Social media just exacerbates this problem of free thinking.  Express views where you question a popular and accepted narrative?  People lose their minds and you become a Nazi, ist, or ism.  People will take screenshots of denouncing you and “defriending” you.

One is either a hero or a villain – no in between.  If you associate with them in anyway or dare to be friends with them, then via guilt by association, you also become a hero or villain.

I suppose this is the evidence that we needed to prove that friends on social media really aren’t friends. However, too often have I seen family befall the same fate.  Even for family members, certain beliefs are too far and suddenly you are disowned even if the son denies the accusation.   I didn’t know we were all secret Muslims at our core.

Pearce Tefft proclaimed that “Peter Tefft, my son, is not welcome at our family gatherings any longer. I pray my prodigal son will renounce his hateful beliefs and return home. Then and only then will I lay out the feast.”

To quote the guy from 300 who get’s kicked into that bottomless pit, “This is madness.”

I have two sons, and regardless if they became die-hard SJWs who loathed every view I espoused, they’d be welcome in my house.   I’m not pouring years of time, smelly diapers, long nights, and the joys of watching them crawl, walk, and start talking down some drain filter because of what they might believe.

In fact the mere thought of it really bothers me.  I can see not marrying or dating someone because of it, but your very own flesh and blood?

However,  this isn’t a new phenomenon.  It’s one of human nature.  Plenty of family members, villagers, tribesmen, etc. have disowned each other to the point of the sword because of differences in belief.

However that was then, this is now.  Right?

Supposedly the Enlightenment and Age of Reason were supposed to put us past this, but they haven’t.  I’m not going to bother to go into the reasons for that, but I will say that social media obviously fuels this polarization and dichotomy of us vs them.

For some people, they aren’t just content to “de-friend” and dehumanize you, they also believe you need to lose your job, be unable to pay your mortgage, and ensure you are out on the streets. Your family who you support financially? They don’t give a shit.

I’ve been an advocate of fighting fire with fire – specifically those people who threaten to or go after people’s jobs.  However, with finances being tight for myself and with me being the sole provider for my wife and two sons, it’s hard for me to imagine attempting similar retribution to someone, even if they were the aggressors in trying to get me or people with whom I hold similar views with fired.

At some point, we have to draw the line as to how far one should go in a polite and civilized society – while it still barely remains one.

To all you activists out there, regardless of your stripe and creed, how far are you willing to go?

I don’t consider activism, political stances or worldview to be this ever constricting bubble where you dwell permanently, but if your entire life and purpose is based on “activism”, where else do you go to seek your identity? To seek who you are?

Seriously, consider that so many ardent screaming activists are often far removed from the situations and people they express outrage about.  Do those who scream about gun control the loudest with the biggest platforms live in Baltimore in the ghetto?  Often they don’t.

So many people say they want “diversity”, but it seems we pervaded by a culture that encourages us not to have friends or to cut them loose if they won’t come to similar views as ourselves.  Diversity indeed.

Those same people are then shocked when they exit their bubble and briefly enter another where very different views are held.  You’d think they’d embrace that diversity, but often they just point, shriek, and scream “HERETIC!”   Often, that’s where the mutual conversation ends and the pitchforks and torches begin.

Is this really how any of us want to live?  Where we can’t separate someone from their politics or opinions?  I certainly don’t, but I fear far too many do.

 

The Next Red Pill: Building The Family Legacy

The true soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him, but because he loves what is behind him.” –  G.K. Chesterton

A while back, many in the anglosphere noticed that many of the notorious “PUAS” were reaching the end of their hedonic treadmills.   For some like Roosh, they were entering a new season of life.  Those of us who had discovered the Red Pill knew there had to be more.  We realized that the West had to be rebuilt with a solid foundation and a legacy that couldn’t be based on hedonism, bashing feminists, or have an identity built on opposition.

Note Roosh’s startling admission a few months ago that goes to show were he is now:

At the height of my PUA days, I declared feminists as my enemy. They were degenerate, anti-family, and promiscuous. This was at the peak of when I embarked on behavior that was degenerate, anti-family, and promiscuous. My attacks against them were one way of relieving the guilt and discomfort of my own behavior, since most of the girls I slept with had to have feminist thoughts in their minds to allow me to gain easy sex. I was experiencing pleasurable orgasms with the enemy in the evening then writing about how bad they were the day after.

We were staring into the abyss and it was turning us.  While pretending to flush the sewage, we contributed to it while calling the girls who put out easy sluts.  What was the point at the end of it?  Were we doing anything useful? Building the kind of culture and society that we kept pointing out was being destroyed, but deliberately contributing to its very destruction?

There is a next step.   Some of us may not be able to to take it and for that I will not pass judgement.  But those of us who can must, and so we have.  I’d like to bring your attention to two new sites in particular that I believe are of vast importance to building that foundation – one that wont be built off bashing feminism, sjws, and a myriad of other things that ARE NOT in our immediate local context to effect.

A Kings Castle is what I believe is the next evolution of ROK, except it focuses on fathers and families.  Those two subjects are essential for the stable foundation and prosperity of any culture and society.  It’s staffed by multiple men who all are fathers and husbands who are doing their part to try and promote healthy family growth and life.    Demographics is destiny and a demographic that is composed of strong families is what will build rise from the ashes of what is left of American culture.    You’ll notice that the race obsession isn’t a part of that.

The other is Jacobite Mag.   A particular article of theirs, “The Right Needs Joy” struck me.  It argues the definition of Thomas Aquinas in that joy proceeds from love and the truest joy is ordered love that focuses on the very things that deserve that love.  The following point is devastatingly accurate:

“This sort of joy is in dangerously short supply. Many on the right, especially those who identify as “Alt-Right,” spend massive amounts of time rejoicing in the pain of those with whom they disagree. The fact that videos about “libtard meltdowns” and “Butt-Hurt Crying Hillary Voters Compilation” have far more views than videos about Shakespeare, Alexis de Tocqueville, and Dante’s Commedia, should tell us something. Young conservatives and reactionaries, much as they flail their hands at the death of Western civilization and the loss of wisdom, do very little in the way of actually preserving the beauty and truth underlying this great tradition. If joy is truly a result of love, man must be very careful to develop the right affections in his breast. Right now many on the right seem hellbent on cultivating affection for dank memes rather than for truth, goodness, and beauty.”

“When not mocking, many give way to the temptation of defeatism, resentment, and self-congratulation. One of the clearest examples of this habit is the use of the “red pill” metaphor. While it has some communicative merit in expressing how fundamental many of the disagreements between progressives and traditionalists are, it is a troubling metaphor. It encourages a gnostic view of truth and happiness, in which only those who have seen through the fog of progressive brainwashing can recognize any meaningful truths. While I certainly agree that contemporary progressivism is a suicidal ideology, many virtuous, dedicated, and intelligent people ascribe to some part of it while still recognizing aspects of reality. Insofar as these people are living in the truth, they are able to properly rejoice in it. Meanwhile, many who rightly critique the emptiness of the progressive project fall into habits of resentment and unhappiness that actually moves them farther away not just from joy and charity, but truth itself.”

If we want to Red Pill anyone, we have to lead by example.  How much joy can you have if your primary purpose is destruction and schadenfreude instead of laying down roots and a foundation?  The Alt Reich could learn from this.  Or they can continue their descent into blaming instead of building.

They’ve been consumed by hate. Instead of building families they writhe with hatred of jews, blacks, and whoever else can be blamed for why their life isnt what it shouldnt be.   What a terrible way to go.  They’ve missed what will really rebuild not just “whites”, but everyone. Yes, that includes our black brethren in the cities.

Stable families that show love, laughter, faith, truth, beauty, goodness, and a reason to get up tomorrow morning with a purpose and hope in life.   We need to focus on what we can actually affect – the lives of those around us.  This is done through families that can build up the community and the lives of those in our community.  It’s probably the primary point that the authors of A Kings Castle will hammer home; focus on what we can affect instead of national politics and scaremongering.

See this happy face?

@makaylaarianna gave Julius a donut. It went everywhere. #toddlers #boys

A post shared by Lucas Temple (@armenia4ever) on

That’s my son. Him and his younger brother will build a legacy that affects our families, friends, and neighbors.  That’s how you Red Pill the world around you; by showing them how it’s done.  We will outbreed those who so throughout endorse abortion and create a new foundation built on the shoulders of those who came before us.

We will build marriages worthy of remembrance and praise.  Our children will rise to the top bringing those around them on the ride.  The community around us will see our lives.  We will live, drink, laugh, and not be brought down by the things in life we CANT control.   There is a better way and we will show it.

I’m far from perfect – of that my wife will assure you.  But damnit, I’m going to keep going forward and showing those around me that life is worth living, the future is worth building, and that even in the darkest of times and despair there is always a reason to keep going.

 

Six Things I’ve Learned as a Husband and Father

Six Lessons Early On As A Husband and Father

You Will Need A Support Network

I can’t understate how important this is -especially when your kids are infants and need a lot of time.  Many families often relocate to where they can get work.   What’s crucial is finding a job where you have family or close friends available that can give you a leg to stand on in hard times, but can help babysit when you and your girl – in my case wife – desperately needs a break.

One or two people wont be enough. People get busy – often when you really need them – and you will need a wide network to ensure it doesn’t happen to you.  They say it takes a village to raise a child, and when you have two boys that are 10 months and 4 days apart, that couldn’t be truer.  Your family, her family, friends, everyone.    People we know have bought us diapers, clothes, even carseats and strollers.  Without that help, I don’t know what we would have done.

You want to avoid daycare at all possible costs, but to make ends meet these days, often both parents will have to work. It’s essential you have family, friends and GRANDPARENTS nearby who can babysit and help out.  If you aren’t able to have one parent remain at home with your kids, your family and close friends are far more nurturing and key to your kids success later in their lives than a daycare will ever be.

Lots of babysitting needed there.

With three months left of our lease, our babysitting situation and inability to get the support we needed caused us to uproot and move back to Illinois and in with some close friends of ours.  Now, with my parents nearby, my mom can give us babysitting whenver we need it.  This has been essential to both me and my wife getting work and being able to pay off what’s left on our lease back in Missouri.

Again, if you don’t get support, taking care of your kids in their infancy will become an exhausting burden, rather than a blessing and your marriage will be strained as a result.  Me and my wife have had plenty of small fights over problems created by exhaustion and the lack of people to help us out.

The fact my mom will babysit at any point means that I can finally take my wife. We can go to the Warped Tour and see her bands. A night out at the drive-in theater becomes a reality, instead of a fond memory.  We can never forget what brought us together in the first place.

Swallow Your Pride

Alpha this, alpha that. If you are an “Alpha”, you should have some pride and confidence in yourself and the decisions you make for you family.  However, when you screw up, don’t let your pride get the better of you.  If you can’t keep a promise, plans blow up, or you legitimately end up causing your wife grief – apologize.  Own it.   You are a man.

I must admit, I’m a stubborn prideful bastard.   So when I’m wrong, it’s hard to admit it.  Your wife will respect you if you are willing to admit and own your mistakes.  Key here is that you apologize when you screw up – not just apologize for her mistakes or to make her feel better. Only apologize when you do something wrong so it’s significant when you do.

Admit when you are wrong.

Just do it.   This one of the rare times, “Man up” should be said.  If you want your wife to apologize for the mistakes she does – and not blame you for them, you will have to lead by example.  I absolutely suck at this, but lately I’ve been trying to own any actual mistakes I make.    When it comes to raising my sons, this will be key.   They will look at my example and see if I do what I preach.

Now this doesn’t mean that you should roll-over.  (My wife even admitted she’s glad I don’t do everything she says or wants.)  If you have to battle, pick your battles and stand your ground when needed.

Manage Your Time

It’s so easy to be lazy and not make use of your rare downtime. I get it, but when things are tight and time is of the essence, do something useful and productive.  I love my video games, but the demands and needs of young sons come first.   This means keeping on top of giving them baths, getting them fed, changing them, and watching my oldest as he scurries around trying to touch and grab everything. 14 months is indeed an active age.

For instance, I want my wife to be satisfied with cheap easy to make food – which she usually isn’t.  To make it easier, I’ll have to spice it up, do the small things, and actually learn more about cooking. ( I work from home.)   I’ll also need to do whatever cleaning and stuff needs to be done.

In fact, there was a faucet that had to be replaced.  I had to get some extensions for the water supply valves to reach the faucet ends, but I took forever to get around to it because I was lazy.   We needed that faucet ready to go. I finally did it, but far later than I should have.

Luckily with that SUPPORT NETWORK that I mentioned earlier, time is a bit easier to manage when they boys are being taken care of by my mom and I’m able to get whatever I need to done around the house that me and my wife are staying.

Me and my wife have sex every single day.  That’s no accident. We ENSURE we have the time – that and my wife demands it with her high drive.  No matter what happens that day, we MAKE time.   If you really value something, you can and will do the same without excuses.   This also means that I have to stop making excuses for not getting things done that I should.

Laugh, Love, Live

These are great slogans, but people are usually either too busy or self absorbed with life to actually participate in these.  A great support network will help enable you to actually live life.    The house me, my wife, and the boys currently live at is the home of my best friends parents who are like my second parents.  It’s very similar to living in a multi-generational house and the benefits are immense and tremendous.

We actually talk to each other over food.  Laughter, great stories, and that noise of “happiness” can be heard constantly.   We are never “Bored”, unlike so many people.  There’s always something going and someone to hang out with.  Great conversations occur. Often friends and grandparents are over. Board games, bonfires, barbecues outside are staples of our lives. Beer taste better when you are enjoying it with people you love.  Having a Wii with Mario Party and Brawl is suddenly a phenomenal thing.   We are our own Brady Bunch.

My best friend’s family had four kids and my best friend and his wife have a 3 month old son.  (I’d like to think we inspired them to get going) We are going through almost the same stage of life. The naive dream of me and my best friend hanging out with our wives and raising kids is actually happening.  I feel like I’m living my own version of Second Hand Lions.   It fills me with joy everyday and makes me look forward to waking every morning.

All this makes it easier to raise our two boys with the love, help, and input that my best friends family gives us. I’m constantly learning new things as a dad because of it and me and my wife fight MUCH less than when we lived on our own in Missouri.

One interesting realization is that there’s other people who can hear those fights, so we have to mediate our differences calmly and quickly.  It prevents arguments from blowing up into nasty fights and has allowed us to get needed space and conversation with others in the house to take our minds off it.

Regarding that love part; the daily sex that I mentioned earlier helps resolve those fights and constantly bond us together to overcome if either of us have had a bad day, her emotions are at a low, or just our libido is going crazy.  It also boosts her confidence in herself and her body – very necessary after having two kids back to back.

When my wife’s particularly cranky,  she’s mentioned how she has a stick up her ass and that she needs sex to get rid of it.  Sure enough, it works every time.  Never forget that little fact when you wonder why she’s mad at you for no reason and you can’t logic at all with her.

Do The Small Things

1. We can be great at having the big picture in mind, but it’s the small details and living of our daily lives that makes all of that happen.   It’s those small conversations, memories, and emotions that shape our futures.  It’s easy to let the days blend together until you can’t remember what you did last Thursday.

Do something small each day to make it different.  Tell you wife you appreciate what she does.  Make her a small gift, come up with a quick movie list, and tell her you have a surprise for her – just don’t tell her what it is to the last minute. Never let that spark of romance get lost in the gritty routine of life. Make a date night each week.

2. Plenty of fights me and my wife have gone through were often because she wasn’t feeling “loved”. Every time it comes up, I think to myself, “Seriously?”  Simple stuff like saying, “I love you” in the morning, a kiss when she wakes up, a sincere compliment here and there. If she’s looking really good during a moment of the day, TELL HER SO.  You’d think that she knows you already love her and think she’s beautiful, but she needs to be reminded of it.  She needs your validation and appreciation.

Go beyond her outward beauty and look to her as a whole. It’s easy to see what your spouse does wrong – especially during arguments, but you often forget to compliment and appreciate what she does right.  She needs to know everyday that she is making you happy and that she is worth it.  Appreciate your wife for the great mother that she is and that the effort she puts in everyday.

You can do it

So many men have become jaded and believe that marriage isn’t worth it and fear losing any kids they do have to divorce and eventual child support via a vicious ex.   The risks are there, but the rewards of choosing a life you want to live are there as well.

I don’t make much money.  Neither does my wife.  But with that support I keep shouting about, anything is possible. You don’t have to be financially “stable” – most of us won’t be for years to come – and in your late 30s till you can get married and even think about kids.   Against the current grain, I would advise getting married young and having kids.

It’s far easier to deal with the responsibilities of kids when you are young, then when you are in your 40s and your back is killing you. You also enjoy the wife of your youth in your prime when you are full of energy, hope, and that “spark” that seems to fade as people age.

That essential support network can let you live a life worth living.  Be your own man and if a family is what you desire, don’t look back.  Keep striving forward.  Even though I’m new at being a dad, my boys already have an advantage – they will grow up with a father who loves them, will lead by example, and will always be there.

 

 

 

Never Denounce Your Friends – Stand By Them

Friendship is like standing on wet cement. The longer you stay, the harder it’s to leave, and you can never go without leaving your footprints behind.” – Unknown

Beginning Your Quest

“Stand By Me” is what crosses my shitlord mind when I think about the ultimate meaning of the word “friend”.   Hopefully something of similar aspiration and brilliance crosses your mind as you agonize late into the night about your lack of instagram followers, likes, and retweets.

The 1986 classic is a tale of boys who bond while on the adventure of their lives – to find a dead body first. A dead body was the goal of their quest, but the story of their lives is related by how they got there.   Their story, retold by our venerable writer, is what we all desire deep down at our frothy cores.

Even more important, it makes their quest worthy of completion, instead of merely just beginning.  Think about the movie Sandlot and Scotty’s quest to make friends.  Their adventure expands and culminates in getting that baseball back.  Scotty didn’t know it yet, but the neighborhood kids became his family and the quest he began with became something grand – and a classic in American cinema.

Every man needs his quest. He might not know it yet, but ever man at his core has a quest in mind for his life.  Myth, legend, history, and memorable fiction is filed with the larger-than-life stories of Achilles, Caesar, Genghis, Harry Dresden, and Huck Finn for a reason.

Real friends” make that quest worth undertaking, as well as make the quest into what we never imagined. Experiences and encounters with friends shape the stories to be told to our grandchildren. Chunk was essential to the group in the Goonies just as Huck Finn was impossible without Tom Sawyer.

Tom and Huck

They also shape what our quests become and give you those “life is worth living” feelings that everyone want of us wants.   You may start off in the Shire, but the way to Mordor is packed with many different stops.

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Before I go any further, let me shout something at the rest of you, “STOP CARING WHAT OTHER PEOPLE WILL THINK!”   When you don’t shift with the wind and popular opinion and consensus to “fit in”, the friends you will attract will be a of a high caliber and more likely to be TRUE actual friends.

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Friends should be thicker than water. Crazy stunts on your bikes, nerding out laughing and gaming on xbox late into the night, and enjoying a pickup game of baseball created a bond that you didn’t easily forget.

I still haven’t forgotten me and my best friend Tim bingewatching anime late into the night while slamming mountain dew.  A decade later, we had switched to bud light.  Conversations late into the night about plans for the future were the norm.    (Think “Second-Hand Lions“)

Yea, I know, “Nerrrddssssss!”

Friendship was a bond between people that extended beyond the normal worries of life.  Bonds weren’t necessarily established because you both held up similar signs at a protest, but because  you had been through thick and thin together.

You legitimately had not just commonality, but a sense of enjoyment and purpose in the company of someone you considered a friend.   Speak friend, and enter.   (We all need our Sam, Frodo, and Gandalf in Moria.)

Unfriended

In these dark times, we force the term “friend” to also mean comrade, ally, etc.   Obviously, you can be a friend, but not necessarily an ally willing to hopscotch onto those landmines.  Well, this used to be the case.

That distinction matters because everyone assumes that you have the same exact views as your friend – or that you should. Become the hivemind.  You are identical symbiotic cells according to Facebook feeds.

The current political sphere entails that while you may be a gay Asian lesbian who voted Trump, you are still apparently a Nazi who hates humanity. You are either in the camp getting gassed, or you are the one’s laughing maniacally as you usher the Zyklon B into the shower vents.

Either a deplorable Nazi bastard, or a trans black disabled two-spirit.  This thinking has done wonders for those shallow people whose lives depend on political schadenfreude for purpose.

Believe it or not; Trump being the devil or the messiah, the ethics of trannies in the girls bathroom, and whether God exists are great conversations while in a drunken stupor that won’t be uploaded to Facebook.    When amongst friends, disagreement/agreement shouldn’t matter.

Why?

Agreement and disagreement aren’t what drives your friendship.  If they do, you have many like minded acquaintances, but likely no real friends who will stand by you.  A rather unsettling thought.   So what does a friend look like?

Do you know someone with  the history, proximity, life-goals, to some extent common-cause, and shared experiences/ stories that you want to tell your grandchildren?   How about that feeling of purpose, fulfillment, and sense of belonging?

Did you think to yourself, “I’d love to grow old with this guy?”  Were they always at your back in the thick of life with you? Did they stand by you in times of strife when everyone trashed you? Was there couch always available when you needed it and their ear open when life had you bent over?  If so,  that’s a real friend – and they don’t make em like they used to.

Friendly Heretics

Go back to the year 1000 and gaze upon a man who was excommunicated.  Modern self -loathing Christendom hate aside, the heretic was often avoided by the community and usually dead to his family.   At that time, it was essentially a death sentence.

Despite our scorn of those bigoted terrible Christians as we beat on our enlightened snobby chests about how awesome we are ,we’ve actually brought that same mentality back.  This time it only dooms you to bad jobs, little opportunity, and scorn from your elite educated betters who’ve studied long and hard for their liberal arts degree.

If you are one of the lucky converts, you’ll be seen as a sinner who needs an extended time of penance in the mines of ally activism to repent for your sins of privilege. You filthy white devil you.  Prostrate and repent – but make sure to donate.  Forgiveness isn’t cheap.

Huh?

What the hell happened?

The culture wars in their meme and social media glory have fooled people into a shallow sense of friendship.   Sure, you both may like Bernie Sanders, spam his memes on Faceberg,  support #BlackLivesMatter, and denounce bigotry in the movies, but will Joe have your back when push comes to shove?

Will they stand by you? Surely he knows you are a good person at heart, just misunderstood in the shouts for your burning at the stake – but will he voice it in fear for his own hide? You better damn hope so Solo.

The casualties of heresy aren’t necessarily just the one’s you see on the front page of Drudge, but on your social feed as they defriend and block all trespassers of wrongthink.  Surely they can’t be seen to have such deplorable friends. After all, what would people think?

Peer pressure makes for likes on Facebook, but will any of those people drive out of their way to pick you up in the middle of nowhere? Will your “friend” have time for you when you actually need it? True friends are indeed rare.

Will he denounce you to the other virtue signal despondent deviants desperate for Faecbook likes and acceptance because you didn’t support #BlackLivesMatter loud enough, check your privilege, or didn’t prostrate yourself low enough for that offensive joke?

Stand By Me

Rest assured that if I call you a  friend, I’ll always have your back when the storms rage.  It’s exactly why I’ll never denounce men like Forney, Roosh, Aurini, Quintus, etc no matter how many people recoil in horror because they deem their perspectives deplorable.  Guilt by association is nonsense and anyone who appeals to it should be disregarded.

Even more so for the close friends I’ve known for the better part of my life.  When told that it makes me look like I share their reprehensible heresies, my response is simple and emphatic:“I don’t care.”

Be honest with yourself; the shrieking wolves of Twitter will always assume that friendship equates to a cult like hive mind of absolute agreement. Their goal is isolation of their targets.  When they’ve finished, they will still come for you next.

Consider closely who you want to be in this short life. You are never guaranteed tomorrow.  Sure, plan for the future, but exactly what future?  In fact what would your friends and family say around your gravestone?  Deep down, we want a future filled with people, family, and FRIENDS, which make it worth living.

Even if I don’t agree with someone or their supposed racist, sexist, misogynist bigoted uttering – of which I am accused of frequently –  they are still my friend no matter what they have or will say.

That’s what true friends do. Your friendship transcends the frequent winds of “change” on the “right side of history.” The right damn side of history is by their side, and they by you.

History won’t fondly remember the con artists who appeal to the moral authority of the majority to scold those who aren’t on the “right side of history” – if it remembers them at all.  Face it, history won’t remember virtually any of us, but good friends make our short lives worth getting up in the morning to go to that job we hate to feed our families.

My best friend may be very liberal, but he’s welcome in my home at any point, and I in his. The trust we’ve built over the last 20 years can’t be shaken.  Our kids will play together, and our wives worthy of defending regardless the reason.

A word of warning to those who think long-term friends can be replaced:  Those who throw their friends away – especially over politics – will be treated with contempt by their newfound like-minded revolutionary comrades, because none of us at heart will ever be truly radical enough.

“Betrayal” no matter how you want to dress it up is not invisible to new bedfellows.   Trust will never be built, and thus loyalty will never follow, as they assume you will do the same to them at some point.  So goes the common cause.

No matter how much faithful zeal you may have for social justice you will tire, even just slightly of being beaten for your privilege while living paycheck to paycheck – cis straight white males in particular.   It is then you will be chastised and exorcised for your lack of allyship.

Meanwhile your best hope is that the friends and family you shunned know well the parable of the prodigal son. You will know them to be true friends and family when they welcome you back with open arms and no demands to get on your knees and beg for sweet forgiveness.

That is what marks a true friend. Value them above all else.

Can Your Marriage Survive Pregnancy?

I had no choice. Get out of the apartment.  This is what female lawyers have advised when your wife is hitting you.  Usually my wife blocks off the door so I can’t leave, but this time I was quicker than her.

Running through the door and down the stairs, I called my mother-in law.  She called 911 for an ambulance. During the call she mentioned we had been physically fighting.  My wife had threatened suicide via pills, hit me in the face, and chucked her heavy purse at my face.  Just a bloody lip for me this time.

Moments after making the call, my wife sent me a text urging me to come quick. Something bad had happened.  Rushing back in, she was on the floor holding her stomach.  “What happened!?!?!” I asked her.

In haste to chase after me already being dizzy, she had run into the corner of a shelf. Yea, I know how that sounds, because when the cops showed up –  which they have to during “domestic dispute” calls, they asked her several times.    Often when women are abused, that is exactly what they would say.  “I fell down the stairs,”  or “I ran into the wall”, or “I hit my head on the bed post.” (I know a girl who alleged this.)

Except here she ran into a shelf.  Even though I was the victim here, it sure didn’t sound that way to onlookers.  Come several days later and some of my wife and mother in laws friends were asking her if she’s SURE she ran into a shelf.   Honestly, I would too.

Rumors will swell and I’m sure I’ll be portrayed as a very timid deer.  Oh well, me and my wife only have to last another 6 months here before we move back.  To be honest, it wears on me to always be the bad guy to people we know.  Online, I don’t care, but close to home it takes a heavy toll – especially considering I have no close friends or family around.

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When You Really Do Love Someone

So many marriages are dysfunctional in some manner, rather then harmonious fairy tales. You see couples mingling happily at parties with each other, but what’s lurking under that surface?  Everyone pretends life is FANTASTIC!!  To outward eyes, they aren’t just at Disney World, they are it.

Take perfect me.   While I and my wife are constantly intimate, it hasn’t staved off issues from  her past – one’s I was fully aware of.   It’s led to us literally biting, slapping, and even hitting each other – but more on that later.

Safe to say, a lot of things haven’t gone according to expectations for us – especially our move to our current place.  She thought she would have a specific job.  We didn’t expect another pregnancy so soon.   With both of us working for a bit,  saving some money up was expected.   Most certainly, we never expected to lay a hand on each other.

Welcome to pregnancy.

What I described earlier was just another day of joyous and stress free pregnancy – almost finally at the end.  My wife’s been pregnant for essentially two years with back-to-back boys.  Can we last through this? Surely if this is the worst, it can only get better?

Those romantics among us hope it can.   The harsh truth is a much more difficult question.   So much bullshit is spouted about what it should be, but no one talks about the behind-the-scenes dysfunction that most marriage suffer.

Most people won’t admit to because of their pride, reputation and what other people will think.  I suppose in the digital and social media age where haters are always looking for ways to malign you, it makes sense if you want to exist quietly and living your life happily.

Marriage is a loaded term today filled with gloried ideals and bitter stories from those around us.  Some people hate it ranging from MGTOWS to angry rad feminists who consider it evil and part of Patriarchal oppression.  Cool.  I can’t tell you how many twilight zone divorce stories I’ve heard, and “forgiveness” and encouragement to get married urges don’t follow.  I understand why.

Truth is that when your marriage hits lows – even those weekly ones – people don’t talk about how low because they are afraid of the judgment . I’ll bite the bullet and share the dirty violent details.

Before I was married, I swore that I would leave any women who hit me, assaulted me, etc.   Pride aside,  take enough hits from someone and you will hit back in some manner.

That always being in the back of my mind and what happens in domestic situations when the cops get called,  abusers aren’t worth my time.   Then again when you really love a women – especially if she’s your wife, leaving her to fend for herself isn’t an option.

Rolling With The Punches

You think you know your wife, but not until pregnancy do you know what festers beneath.  Pregnant women attacking their husbands with feminine graceful fists is a staple of time, because so many men and women I know laugh about it when I tell them.

I just never knew about it till now.  Turns out a lot of women didn’t know this rage and capacity for violence was in them until they were pregnant.  When you start to read various forum boards and sites dedicated to “mommies” and dealing with pregnancy, it starts to appear:

“I know I am not alone because one of my best friend’s DH told me he has been physically attacked in every one of his wife’s 3 pregnancies, and she is not a violent girl at all.”

When a women becomes pregnant, so much about her changes.  Obviously she gets a bit hungrier – hangry – as a I call it, as well as grump, frustrated, sometimes even jealous.  Raging hormones escalate everything to the max level of what it could be.

While we’ve had sex practically everyday – which still isn’t enough for my wife’s increased “Take off your clothes now” drive, the negatives always linger.  We’ve had fights escalate over the smallest things to the point of where we are screaming at each other.

The question becomes, how much do you really LOVE your wife? What are you willing to forgive?  Can you swallow your pride?  Note, we are still going strong as I write this.  Also, this is not about being a victim.  It’s about how to address this problem.

Swallowing that pride becomes VERY difficult when things become physical.  Many a time my wife has hit me, got on top of me pinning me to the bed or couch, started choking me, digging her nails into me, and even going for crotch kicks and punches.  Normally, Id toss her off.  However, with the pregnancy I can’t do that.

When she blocks me from leaving the house my standing in front of the door and or physically holding me back from leaving, I can’t just shove her into a wall.  Other men have told me how it happened to them, but I didn’t know how it felt until it happened to me.  Neither did I know that feeling of helplessness that envelops you completely.  You bounce between feeling bad for her to feeling outraged with her.

There have been moments I wanted to shove her head through the wall, just as she has wanted to do to me and they scream in your mind to obey your inner animal urges when the fights are physical.

My wife isn’t stupid, and when she’s in a rage, she uses this to her advantage.  Essentially she can rain down hell and there’s nothing I can do.  Unfortunately there’s been a few times where  I could deal with it no more.

Before I go further, some things have to be mentioned.  My wife was raped freshman year of college.  I didn’t actually believe her at first because of the amount of false accusations out there and the very loose definitions applied to “sexual assault” and “rape” by feminist types.

I knew I would have to deal with it, but it pours the rage, frustration, and anger into her at times when she is already stressed and her hormones are raging.  My wife is phenomenal women.   She’s strong, loving, and loves me without a shadow of a doubt and would do anything for me.

This comes back to her, but when she is seeing red, the violence overtakes her, almost like a bloodlust.   All logic is gone.  She is consumed.  Often I’m lucky, she’ll only throw things all over and against the walls.  (That includes her glasses, which shockingly haven’t broken yet, and older phone that did break, and numerous other objects.)

Sometimes I’m afraid that some of my cherished possessions – namely my desktop computer – might become a casualty.   If her seeing red is complete, she has before dumped out my coffee and even some whiskey because she knew it would irk me – especially as I often cant afford to replace the whiskey, let alone my desktop computer.   A very keen new style of warfare I must say in “break his shit”.

She’s also no pushover with the exertion of force. The punches hurt. In middle-school and highschool she was a bully and she beat up boys and girls.   Also, she always got away with it and she would tell me how she used to cry and shed some tears when questioned about her role.  Worked wonders avoiding trouble for her part in the beatings.

She knows how to reign down wrath.  I’ve had cuts, deep scratches, bloody lips, and bruises and swelling on my face.  I consider myself lucky. One of my wife’s friends shoved her husband down the stairs in a pregnancy influenced rage.  Suffice to say their marriage has been very bumpy since.

Now when her rage is done, she’s that sweet innocent and crying girl who doesn’t know why she’s hitting me and what’s happening to her.  Pregnancy indeed.  At that point, all I can do is hold her tight and swallow justified anger.

Later on I’ll lightly chide her for it and she’ll do her little girl pose saying, “I’m an innocent angel.”    She certainly can be and just like that, it’s like it never happened.  But then it does happen. Again.

So what do you do?  I’m not calling the police, because I love my wife and my son needs his mother as does this baby soon to come.  Essentially, there is no immediate penalty right now for hitting me.

Valentine's day Walmart aisle.

The Facebook Posts You Don’t See

When we were living with my inlaws, I can recall one time where we were fighting and it got physical. She ended up on top of me choking me – she doesn’t remember her choking me during this fight.  I was so mad I started choking her back.  If she was going to choke me, I was going to choke her back and let her see how it felt.    Her parents ended up walking in and seeing this and well, nothing’s ever been the same in terms of “abuse”.

I’m not a big manly guy. I’m five foot seven,  have boyish looks, and a good amount of people thought I was gay- to give you a picture.  My wife has been in more fights then I have and she knows how to throw a punch.

Many men are raised to never hit a woman.  I don’t ascribe to that.  If a girl throws a punch at me, she receive one in kind.   However, this is my wife, not some girl I barely know.

Even still I can recall snapping.   One fight, she kept hitting me to the point I saw red. She hit my leg hard and I snapped back and hit her leg shouting, “How do like it” as both anger and tears flowed from her.   This exchange went back and forth.

The attacks usually flow from my wife when (1) I’m not listening enough (2) I don’t let her talk.  Usually that means she is hearing and seeing red from the pregnancy hormones and if I don’t say she’s correct in some way,  I’m not “listening” and I’m going to be eating a punch.

To make it worse, she doesn’t let me leave.  She makes sure to block the door off making me feel like a caged animal.  Honestly even after our fights are over, it still bugs me.  (One time I had to jump off our balcony to evade being hit and to get out of the apartment.)

One time I definitely ended up being the aggressor.  Another fight and the previous day I had suffered some punches.   That night we were arguing and she threw a set of keys across the room which I thought had been intended for me.

I saw red and immediately tackled her to the bed and grabbed her hair and pulled on it hard.  A second later I five starred her back.  In her eyes, for the first time, I could see fear. My wife was actually afraid of me and to top it off, she IS PREGNANT.

It made me recoil in horror.  “What was happening to me?  While she has asked this question many a time to me, now I was asking it of myself.    I had never done anything like this before to a girl.   I had snapped and I was blaming her for it.

Worse off it concerned and troubled me.  I had a momentary experience of what all these feminist types want to insist we “Red-Pilled types are – abusive monsters rather then men who love women for who they are.   Obviously, they don’t care about my wife’s role, but still it shocked me.

Learning and Loving

Fun fact: When I’ve mentioned to people that my pregnant wife hits me frequently, people laugh about it.  When customers call in to where I work and ask me how I’m doing, I’ll remark something like, “I’m surviving pregnancy” and about how I’m dodging punches.

They laugh about it as if it’s pretty normal to dodge punches from you wife.   Gauge this reaction and I’m betting that this happens to a lot of other men, but society consider it normal.  If so, why the constant huff and haw about domestic violence?

In many ways, we do give pregnant woman a hell of a pass, but I suppose it’s part of the price for birthing not just my children, but the next generation.   Again, I will note that the “violence” part only has occurred during pregnancy and it’s not like an early scene from “Enough” where Jennifer Lopez is getting pummeled by her manipulative husband when they think of domestic violence.    (1) Honestly consider what we imagine when hear of “violence” in relationships (2) consider how many other couples report the same issues. (My wife’s Faecbook mommy group apparently has some aggressive mommies.)

Now normally when my wife hits me, she’ll tell me its my fault because I didn’t let her talk.  Classic abuser behavior is blaming the victim for why the abuse is happening.   When I’ve let her know that I’m angry about her “physical abuse”, she will retort she’s mad about my “emotional abuse”.

Right there you have the excuse and catalyst and it makes perfect sense to her. Even though my wife knows she is violent sometimes, it’s still likely I would go to jail – even if I’m keeled over bleeding because of the way the system works. (The Duluth Model)

Despite all of this that I’ve mentioned, we are in good shape as a couple. Valentines day for us was extra special.  You now know we have our flaws.   I’m just here to let you know that those of you out there in this kind of situation aren’t alone.

Now I know my wife really does love and is loyal to me. One single call , I could be carted off regardless of how many times she had hit me.  It’s a terrible imbalance of power, but nothing can be done about it.  Life isn’t fair.   She would never do this, but she has the power so to speak that makes marriage such a risky proposition for men.

You can never fully know your wife before marriage, but you can know what kind of women she is.   Loyalty, loyalty – and sex – are probably the most important things a girl can give you.  It can and will make the difference when life starts to hit hard – literally.

Persevere.

 

 

 

Quintus Curtius Is Today’s Paul Harvey

Bedtime Stories Unearthed From History For Adults

I’ve been unsure of just how to write this review of Quintus.  He is a friend of mine and I hope I can relay accurately just how incredible his work is.  I want people to be able to realize the grasp of what he’s been doing and it’s significance to us men today and our children in the future.

Inspiration for the subtitle of this post comes from me reading through his site and chapters from his book right before bed, enjoying a new piece of history that was previously unknown to me – similar to the late great Paul Harvey’s “The Rest Of The Story”.   Enter his treasure trove of untold stories and you will know my comparison is not exaggerated.

“In times like these it helps to recall there have always been times like these.” – Paul Harvey

Chatting with him over the phone,  through emails,  and in conversations of various kind, I’ve realized that Quintus is exactly who he says he is.   His lessons from both personal experience and from history are coming from someone sees past much of the political and culture war aspect that dominate much of the manosphere and anglospheres.  He really is our very own Paul Harvey. 

It’s with that comparison you realize just how much of a breath of fresh air Quintus is, especially in recent days when everyone on both sides is screaming about Trump, feminism, immigration, and white nationalism.

As NeoReaction (NRx) is the thinktank and shares overlap of many in our spheres, Quintus is our philosopher for those who don’t wish to learn the language of the NRx crowd of infiltration, as well someone who provides a different but important set of foundations and principles.   His work seeks out an audience consisting of those who search for substance instead of viral entertaining prose about fleeting events.

True actual Renaissance men – are rare to encounter these days, let alone one’s who are public, articulate – yet readable by the us laymen, and can write with both a fiery passion and a fine tuned nose for taking the stories of history and presenting in a simple manner as to why they matter to us today.

Quintus Curtius: A foundational archive for knowledge and rebuilding western culture
A Mission In Mind

Meet Quintus Curtius, the manosphere’s own historian, translator, philosopher, and writer – though he would describe himself as a “humanist”.  Further credentials for you of an academic mind include being a former marine, current world traveler, publishing four books – including a phenomenal and readable translation of the two thousand year old classic”On Duties” by Cicero, and having taught himself Latin, Arabic, and Portuguese.   Channing Tatum may have the looks, but Quintus has the brains that so many of the most esteemed scholars of today wish they possessed.

Quintus has his own site via Fortress Of The Mind, but he has been writing for Return Of Kings for 3 years with a weekly Monday column without fail – to give you an idea of his dedication, consistency and perseverance. Now when we think of that “most vile” website Return Of Kings, we think first about it’s viral articles.

Whether it was Tuthmosis talking about signs you know shes a slut or Forney’s 5 reasons why you shouldn’t date girls with tattoos or piercings, ROK’s truest and most important gems often go unnoticed.

That gem has been most of the articles Quintus writes for ROK and his own site.  Fortune is finally and justly smiling on Quintus in recent days with a curious attack on his work was launched by Mark Zuckerberg’s very own sister.   Of course, this is boosting his recognition and scope of his  audience.

Oddly, but deliberately timed are her efforts.  Quintus has a mission – and a very personal and heavy time investment – of equipping men with knowledge, wisdom, and purpose primarily through the classics, history, and biography.  Notice the archive he is assembling at his site, the books he has written and the common themes throughout them and that its readable even by the layman.

On his site in the “About” section, you’ll notice that he says his goals are to educate, inspire, and to entertain and the different method he goes about achieving this.  Of course we all know feminists are harpies, but more articles about slutty Western women aren’t going to help men become their best and reverse our cultural decline.   Understanding this Quintus points out his educational mission:

Educate.  My books deal heavily with themes from history, philosophy, and biography.  I use these subjects as the trunk of the tree on which I can graft my own ideas and interpretations of these subjects.  I do not belong to any political affiliation; rather, I see myself as a “humanist” in the Renaissance sense of this term.  Several chapters of my books “Thirty Seven” and “Pantheon” deal specifically with this subject (i.e., the education of the young).
 
The current educational curriculum in the United States (as well as in much of the West) has seriously neglected classical learning and humanistic knowledge for some time.  This has resulted in the degradation of the training of character, morals, and masculine virtue.  Women have also suffered from this neglect of the cultivation of virtue.  A good portion of my readers are women, believe it or not.  My goal is to bring this neglected or forgotten knowledge to a new audience who may have never had any exposure to it before.  I have done this through my translations, books, and blog articles.

Quintus is serious in this endeavor. If you take the time, you’ll notice articles on everything ranging from proper speech delivery to ways to overcome failure to learn a new language.   Don’t forget knowledge about men’s health  and the necessity of variety in one’s fitness routines is covered. Can you see the classical influence yet?  Even in his travels he brings back lessons to be shared.

Most of the people we know have neither time nor reason to further their own self-education.  Netflix is too easy, gaming is too pleasant of a distraction,  criticizing feminism and SJWs easy slap-on-the-back choir noise,  and the 24/7 news cycle an addictive dopamine to convince ourselves we KNOW what’s actually going on.    So why bother?

To this extent, Quintus provides inspiration to delve deeper. Stumbling upon a writers best work is how you get hooked, and I’m glad I did.   While some of the more elite writers might scoff, awakening the desire to learn once again is how a cultural renaissance begins.  Quintus demonstrates why inspiration is so important:

Inspire.  Good writing inspires readers.  Reading about great figures in history, literature, art, science, medicine, and any other field of endeavor can inspire readers to their own achievements.  I have the ability to take incidents from history and to write about them in a way that focuses their relevance to contemporary affairs.  I also have written extensively about my own personal experiences and views of life.  Taken together, these subjects let readers know that they are not alone, and that others have shared their struggles and emerged triumphant.

Do you gentleman want to awaken some of that inspiration ? I’d highly recommend the survival story of anarartic explorer Douglas Mawson  in which Quintus demonstrates the importance of why his survival story MATTERS and what we can take away from it.

Mawson would survive through shear willpower alone one of the most harrowing and vicious conditions I’ve read about.  Here’s a quick summary: 310 miles from his main base in Antarctica him and his companion lost their sled-dog team and all of their food and resources which fell off an ice ledge.   He would drag his companion through the bitter freezing subzero conditions with winds that regularly reached 200 mph toward.

His companion would die from the conditions, but Mawson would refuse to give up even with his flesh falling off his bones .   Continuing toward a hut filled with supplies that was over a hundred miles away, he would LITERALLY will himself to survive, crawling and stumbling the last 26 miles to it.  Let Quintus relay the eloquence of this incredible feat in his own words:

“As he approached Commonwealth Bay, Mawson made out a black speck in the distance. He approached it, walking, stumbling, and crawling, and he could eventually see that it was the hut. One of the remaining search party, a man named Frank Bickerton, chanced to see Mawson lurching about in the distance in the snow. He and several other men ran out to make contact with the desperate figure. They did not know who he was at first. The skin was falling off what remained of his flesh, most of his hair had fallen out, his hands and feet were barely functional, he was covered in frostbite and frozen sores, and he could hardly speak. Mawson collapsed in their arms, and his ordeal was over.”

It was this story – which he tells in vivid detail in his book Pantheon, which I’ve read and poured through multiple times.   That leads us to another point actually – all of Quintus books should have notes taken on them during readings . Each time you come back to a particular essay, you can come away with new insight because his material is designed to be re-read and studied.

His approach to history is wide ranging, full of such depth, and dare I say; inclusive – and I don’t mean in the current sense of the buzzword.  Many of his lessons from history include the best of the Arab classists, poets, and historians ranging from Ibn Khallikan to Ibn Khaldun.  Quintus even delves into the work of Lu Hsun, Machiavelli, and Libanius.

This wide range also includes the importance of Brazilian explorers and photographers such as Candido Rondon and Sebastião Salgado as he find nuggets to share via Brazilian history.  Again, one that stands out in particular concerning Brazil is their “Rubber Soldiers” and how through their efforts in the Amazon, the US was able to have access to rubber during World War Two.  In my greatness, I’d never heard of them before.  But that’s not all.

Quintus realizes that an entertaining writer is one who can bring men out of their slumber.  Sometimes all we need is that small push to drive us toward finding a fire within ourselves.  Laziness is often far more difficult to overcome, but that bit of entertainment in one’s self education can be the spark.  Quintus points this out as the 3rd significant part of his mission:

Entertain.  Everyone likes a good, engaging story.  One cannot convey a message unless he is able to maintain the attention of the reader.  I have designed my books in such a way that they can be opened at any place, and read with profit and entertainment at that place.
 
My personal observation is that the youth (and adults) of today have lost touch with the values, mores, traditions, and glories of the past.  It is my purpose to hunt down these forgotten treasures, dust them off, and bring them to a new generation of readers in a way that is unique, engaging, and entertaining.  That is my purpose.

Did you know Michael Collins is more than just whiskey? How about the strange adventures of Antonio Marques da Sylva?  The story behind the character assassination of baseball legend Ty Cobb? The dark death rituals behind the history of the Sardonic Laugh”?  Ancient treatment for the Common Cold? The worst pistol of World War Two?  That Slobodan Milosevic wasn’t a war criminal?  I can’t help but remember Paul Harvey.

Quintus Curtius’ thorough examination of these men isn’t because of any faux appeal to “diversity” and political correctness, but because of the merit of their work.    That is exceedingly rare these days when it comes to trying to find extraordinary and worthy snippets from world writers past and present that isn’t being pushed for some kind of social justice-esque motive.

Do you really desire more than just mere “self-improvement”, but an understanding of history, philosophy, and culture that will teach life lessons? Quintus is then VERY worthy of your time – much more so than many of the writers out there that dabble in justifiable outrage porn – that we all enjoy.

What he seeks to give us is the wisdom that so many men have only managed to acquire late in their life – and if you look at the stories he unearths from the past, you may indeed come to know not just the rest of the story like Paul Harvey, but why you should take inspiration and motivation from it.  Take hold of the future for it lies before you.   Don’t let your youth be wasted on the young.   Invest your time in Quintus’s work and begin your quest.

 

 
 

Two ways to deal with the raging emotions of your pregnant wife.

What happens to your old hobbies? They vanish as you and your spouse both envision strangling each other – but don’t.

My pregnant wife in her natural habitat. Ice cream. Facebook. And not directing emotional rages toward me.
My pregnant wife in her natural habitat. Ice cream. Facebook. And not directing emotional rages toward me.

The above picture is of my wife in her natural habitat – the bath.  To pacify her in this time of emotional tyranny, I gave her ice cream and let her chow down right out of the container.  I even promised not to make fun of her for it – a promise I’ve somewhat kept.     She even had her phone to scroll through Facebook.

I used this precious and rare time to play my current favorite game – Fallout 4 – modded because I have joined the PC master race.  Kid in a candystore, but this was one of my final pieces.

Welcome to marriage – pregnancy stage. Prepare yourself gentlemen.

My problem isn’t one that most men complain of – a lack of sex.  We average sex twice a day.  It’s my pride, the way our fights escalate, the hobbies I don’t want to give up, and the fact that I keep forgetting my wife is my wife – pregnant and not someone you can reason with.  Speaking in generalities, women respond to emotions and men to logic – though I’m seeing alot more emotional men these days.  I keep forgetting this.

Because I don’t want to be a complete loser, I’m trying to develop more productive hobbies – which does suck. I miss my video games, and I resent the amount of time I’ve been forced to give up playing them – regardless of how “mature” it makes me.

When I get home from work, I want to be lazy. I suppose now that I am a father with one son and another on the way, it is time to be responsible and look into new hobbies that my kids will share with me once they get a bit older.

That video game, I want to play it, without condemnation, nagging, or weird bouts of jealousy that I can drink alcohol and she can’t.  To this end, I am in her crosshairs – if she can’t have fun, I can’t either.  Now this is illogical, wrong, and plain out vicious, but that doesn’t matter.  She’s pregnant and emotional.

My lovely nympho wife will nag me about productivity – which is escalated depending on how bad her pregnancy hormones are that day. Alas, it has me writing more.  While I’ve sacrificed my prized video game time, my sex life is that of envy – we average twice a day with passionate bouts of love.

Today, I bring to you the subject of surviving your first year of marriage with a pregnant wife.   If you are with a women who is pregnant, throw out everything you know about her before she decided to carry your offspring.  Prepare for hell on emotional wheels of wrath.

Her raging, vicious, and unpredictable moodswings are now your problem.  She may start crying randomly, and by the end of it taking swings at you because of her rantings about her parents or yours. I’m not even referring to the verbal wrath that you will incur in the process – that’s just a bonus.   So what do you do?

You can’t reason with the beast. You can’t argue with it.

But you can pacify it.  As a man, it’s one of the most important tools you can learn to use when you have a family.
Behold, I give to you my fellow men, a weapon with which to master her emotions in their raw and uncontrollable state (1); the manly, yet smooth,  alluring, and sexual hug.

Now I’m a proud and stubborn man, and when my wife has either hit me or attacked me in the most vicious way with perfectly chosen words to inflict the most damage to my sanity, I don’t want to hug her.  (In fact I want to hit her back after she’s hit me.)  Again, muh pride.

Shockingly, I swore I would never allow a woman to do this to me.  Yet as she is my wife and the mother of my children, my tolerance for BS has gone up – because I love her.  Love changes things. It really does.  I am a proponent of the manosphere, but my wife is my wife, not just another plate.  (Also, dread game is a NO when your wife is pregnant, plus my wife is already very jealous and will beat up other women for looking at me wrong. )

I want to fight back with the nastiest words in my arsenal possible to make her feel the same anguish. “Hurts doesn’t it?”

Indeed it does, especially when she’s pregnant.  Of course, she will remember those fights far into the future and berate you later with, “You said these terrible things to me when I was pregnant,” regardless of any words of war directed at you, the suffering father.

Women fight very well with words, a favor I can return. But should I?  Should a pregnant women hear anything anything else that will make her emotions scream?  Stress is also an issue and it can cause miscarriages.  My pride though.  It’s very angry and upset.  It’s been unjustly wounded. Yet again, I swallow it, or at least I should.

Hug her tight – from behind and then move to the front. Slowly massage her shoulders and lower back.  Get her calmed down. Physical touch will do what the most logical of words will not.  Kiss her neck, suck on her earlobe a bit. Then notice what starts to happen.  Her face changes.

Your other weapon (2) : Angry frustrated pent up sex.  

When women are pregnant, their raging hormones need to be released. They are bottled up like a kid holding his breath. Sexist sounding or not, the truth is the truth.   So take control of the situation and arouse your wife in the process.

Those raging hormones? Well, release them. Direct them toward the bed. Or couch. Or bathroom.

If your wife already has a high sex drive, pregnancy will GREATLY escalate it.  So grab  her pants, and drop them down.  Get aggressive. Wrestle with her in that bed. Or on the floor.  Your video games may suffer, but your sex life will rise to new hard peaks.

So many of our fights could have been de-escalated, but since I was mad at her from her either hitting me or trashing me, I didn’t want to have sex with her – I was too livid. I had too much pride.   A simple hug and escalation to sex could have solved it.

I must admit, she’s even told me to hug her and hold her tight – and also to pull her pants down when we are fighting. In this, me and her are different.   My anger at that moment, I must swallow.   She doesn’t need words of logic about why she is being an unreasonable bitch -something she knows as well.  She needs a hug and to be led to the bedroom.

Never underestimate the power of sex.

Learn from me, swallow your anger at that moment, and pound it out deep.  Never has there been a more perfect time for a spanking in that love making. She will love you, and you will love her.

I wish you luck gentlemen.

For further advice on many at matter to do with marriage, I highly suggest TheFamilyAlpha and AverageMarriedDad, each with their own kind of approach.