Originally posted by Pook
A young man sat and pondered the next phase of his life. “It is time,” he said, “for a girlfriend.” Yet, this new course in his life seemed both exciting and frightening. “But success will not come without much failure,” he realized. “If only there was a way to avoid the painful trials ahead.”
And then, like magic, appeared a Pook!
As like anyone shocked by the sudden appearance of a Pook, he was speechless. But this happened to be a talkative Pook who said, “I will guide you. The constant heartbreak, the loneliness, the feeling of having no control- these can be avoided. Follow me and I will show you many of the lessons that must be learned.”
“Oh Pook!” the young man cried out. “Would it not be better to throw myself into initial error? Is not error the best way to success?”
“No; your heart does not need to be shattered to realize its lessons. Do successful marriages come from a series of failed ones? Of course not. For…
“Foresight teaches gently; error teaches brutally”
With that, the young man asked, “And what is the first lesson?”
The Pook replied, “Follow and see.”
Thus, the young man followed Pook to a nearby college campus. Pook then said, “Behold, the first example.”
A young man, overflowing with desire, saw a woman he thought was extremely cute. She was simply walking around and was involved with her own things.
“I should speak to her,” he told himself. “I must meet her!”
But his body would not obey. He stood there, watching her in the corner of his eye, and felt as if he was burning. She eventually left and he cursed himself even more.
Then appeared another woman who was even cuter!
“I should say hi,” he told himself. Yet, he stood like a statue and his body felt as if he was burning. “She is out of my league. She would never go for someone like me!” He never approached and the woman left.
Yet, another woman appeared more beautiful than the first two!
Somehow, he got himself to approach. “Hi!” he sputtered nervously. She was pleasant. He eventually asked for the number to which she said no. Even though he failed, he felt much better that he tried.
“Alas,” he said now realizing the error of his ways.
“Rejection is better than Regret”
“Remember,” said Pook. “Change is gradual. Before, you saw no opportunities. Now, you see them all about you, yet you are too hesitant to take them. You’re slowly becoming more aware.”
“What are you saying?”
“When you find yourself hesitant, always yield to Action. If you see her, do not wait, gawk or wait for a ‘perfect moment’. Action, action, action!”
“Pook, I cannot. You see… I am insecure. I don’t have that confidence!”
“You are confusing CAUSE and EFFECT. The CAUSE of your hesitant nature is not because of your insecurity. You have not gotten what you’ve wanted, what you’ve desired. THAT is the cause of your hesitant nature.”
“You are caught in the vicious cycle. You are hesitant because you are not used for things going your way. And things will never go your way because you remain hesitant. You see what you want, become hesitant, and the door of opportunity closes. It happens again. And again. And again. With each choice towards Inaction, you reject yourself a little bit more.”
Pook continued. “This is where that cycle of hesitation leads. In your world of Hesitation, you shred off more and more of your manliness until you turn into a full-fledged Nice Guy. Then you seek to remove hesitation by making the approach risk free. Then you start giving gifts, poetry, flowers, and declarations of love. You start to examine and re-examine non-existent signals until they read the way you want them to read. In the end, you place her on the pedestal and throw yourself to her worship.
“If there is a choice between less pain or the possibility of more pain, we default to the less pain. In adolescence, going for a girl and failing made you think everyone else would laugh at you. Whether or not it was true, you thought it was true. This was how you were kept within the cycle.”
“But Pook! How do I get out?”
“By realizing that the choice of Inaction is more painful than Action. Childhood is over. You are the MAN. You must approach. Always default to Action now. From those of us who wasted years in that hesitation mode know that Rejection is always better than Regret. Always.”
The woman enters the house followed by a guy. The guy is all smiles thinking that great acts of intimacy are about to occur. But, alas, the woman launches into a rant about men.
“My ex-boyfriend was such a jerk,” she began. “Why is it that men treat me so roughly?”
The guy then transformed into Mr. Sensitive. “There, there,” he purrs. “They do not know how great you are! You are beautiful, lovely, enchanting, dazzling in every way, and they are idiots when they cannot see it.”
“You are so nice! What a friend you are!” she squeals. “Let me tell you more of my problems with men…”
And so the guy, who was excited because great acts of intimacy would occur, leaves severely disappointed with a hollow feeling echoing throughout him. “I thought that through friendship, love would eventually spring. How wrong I was! A friend she sees, a friend you be.”
When he entered the house, the guy noticed a sign above the door. At the time, he was too excited to even CONSIDER reading it. Now that he was leaving, he read it. “So true!” he cried. For the sign above the door read:
Friendship- Abandon all hope ye who enter!
“But why, Pook!? Why is friendship hopeless!? I fall in love with my female friends. Do they not do the same?”
Pook then called up a woman. She appeared in a blaze of fire (probably from the place which all women are from…).
“Oh woman, pray tell! Why do you not go after your male friends?”
The woman looked amazed that anyone could ask her that. “Because they are just friends.”
“But do they not fall in love with you?”
“Yes. My male friends constantly fall in love with me.”
“And, speak truly madam, what do you and your male friends do?”
“Oh! Well, we hang out. We talk a lot.”
“Talk? About what?”
“And they fall in love with you.”
“Ahh…” said the Pook. “Now we have the answer. Away with you!” And the woman vanished in a fireball.
“Why, it is a difference between the sexes. Young man, what do you do with your friends?”
He looked thoughtful. “We play basketball. We ride around town. We play video games. We…”
“But do you and your guy friends ever sit around and talk about your feelings and things going on in your life?”
The young man looked angry. “HELL NO!”
“There is your answer. Men do not get together and just talk. We do things. When we are with our women friends, we talk much more. Since we reserve our talking, sharing emotions and experiences, to our romantic interest, we get confused with our female friends. We begin to get interested in them because of this.”
“But what about women, Pook?”
Pook pointed to the telephone lines above them. Lightning surged and glowed along the lines.
“The phone lines! They are on fire!”
“Indeed. When women get together, what do they do?”
The young man looked at the fiery lines. “They talk!”
He looked thoughtful as sparks rained on him. “Everything!”
“Women usually aren’t used to getting together and doing pure action. So when they do so with their guy friends, they get a bit confused as well.”
“So avoid the friendship route. When you see a woman you are interested in, go for her romantically. For a friend she sees, a friend you shall always be.”
A guy called a woman and asked her out. The guy was nervous, was scared; he was shy.
“So we’re set for tomorrow night?”
“Umm, yeah,” she replied.
Then, tomorrow night came. The guy agonized over the date the entire day. How should he act? What shall he wear? Did he have enough money? Would he be fun enough?”
But the poor guy realized he was wasting his time worrying for there was no date. He got stood up.
Obviously, there HAD to be a reason. Perhaps something awful happened. Perhaps her car didn’t start. Perhaps some incredible thing occurred in her life AT THAT TIME that kept apart the two star crossed lovers!
So he tried again. “Did we miscommunicate?”
“You still want to go out?”
“Let’s go out on this and this day. OK?”
That day comes. The guy gets stood up yet again.
But he rationalized it away. She did say she had things going on in her life. She did say that she wanted to go out with him. She did say that she wouldn’t mind spending time with him. Obviously, something had to have come up. After all, she SAID she wanted to go!
So the guy calls again and sets up another date. Likewise, he got stood up AGAIN.
“Argh!” he screams to himself. “It is my fault. For I should…
“Judge by actions, not by words.”
Pook then took the young man to a wall with a majestic painting on it. The painting showed a young man, much like the young man in person, standing before a feminine monster, a sphinx!
“What is that monster?” cried the young man.
“Why,” said the Pook, “it is All Women, Mother Nature herself! This nasty sphinx devours all hearts and lives of those who cannot answer her riddle. That man, in the picture, he figured out the riddle to Woman. Thus, he became known as Don Juan.”
“And the answer to the riddle?”
“Is that there is no riddle. Woman is a sphinx with no secret. It is only our minds that we assign her secrets, mysteries, pedestals, and goddess-like status.”
Pook noticed that the young man was confused so he elaborated. “Look at the above example! Look at how the lad got stood up over and over and, yet, over and over he rationalized the standing up! How often is it that a lad rationalizes ‘signals’ to his liking? How often is it that a lad offers gifts and treasures as sacrifices to her goddess-likeness for in his mind she is a goddess? How often is it that a lad’s overactive imagination converts her disrespect, her shallowness, her flaws, into love?”
“So we paint the image we want to see?”
“Exactly! Judge by her actions and not by her words. Judge by what she does than by what your mind wants to see. Our vanity will convert the image of every disinterested girl into secretly loving us (for women tell us what we want to hear). This is why we must judge by her actions and not by her words.”
A man found himself in the company of lovely ladies. Alas, also in company were several men of high esteem. They were more handsome. They had more money. They had more charm. They were better in every way.
But this man knew he had the goods too, if not in such a polished way. “I will be patient and let the cards fall where they may.” Notice that this was NOT inaction or an abrupt slowness. He did not let the lovely ladies’ attention get the best of him nor the success or failures of his competition.
The lovely ladies would cry, “Come here you!” and the other guys would rush to them. When they did it to the man, though, he just laughed, replied, AND WENT ON HIS WAY.
The other guys, more handsome, more beautiful, lost the girls because they could not hold back their desire for a girlfriend. The patient man ended up with the girls.
“I now understand,” he smiled with both girls on his arms.
“Patience is the refined sense of confidence.”
“But Pook!” cried the young man. “How can patience be confidence? Isn’t confidence courage? Isn’t confidence action? How is patience courageous or action?”
“Oh foolish boy!” and Pook slapped him. “Now let us summon up a Don Juan and observe his mannerisms.”
In a fountain of light descended a Don Juan.
“Hear me, oh Don Juan! There are women around and other men are hitting on them! What is your reaction?”
The Don Juan just shrugged his shoulders and laughed.
“What!” cried the young man. “These other guys are going to take his women! How can he be so laid-back?”
“He is laid back because he knows how great a catch he is and that getting women is easy. He knows he is the Prince.”
“But the women…”
“…are not significant! The focus must be on you! The guys that can get almost any women are not scared or nervous that other guys are hitting on girls. He knows things the other guys never will. In fact, he might let them have free reign to weed out the desperate and stupid chicks from the smart and picky ones. As with muscles, it is the strong guys that know they are capable who are quiet and patient. It is the noisy guys that lack the skills. It is the large dogs that are quieter while the small dogs make up for their size with their obnoxious bark. It is the patient ones that control the world; the impatient ones are controlled by it!
A woman was crushing on him badly and the guy was bewildered and stunned for this was unfamiliar ground for him. He was now wise enough to have patience. But…
She would get close to him. Her eyes would shine like stars. She would make jokes about kisses and kissing. He felt the urge to kiss her but denied it.
Eventually, the iron grew cold. The woman became disinterested. She moved on.
“Oh dear,” the guy realized. “I should have kissed her. I have been following philosophies and not being myself. I should follow my inner nature, and…
“Trust the gut.”
“How do you trust the gut?” asked the young man.
Pook led him to the breakfast table. Before it sat a kid.
“Now, how does the kid know to eat?”
“Why, the food is right in front of him. His nose smells it. His eyes see it. He drools.”
“And so is the same with women! What does the kid do next?”
“He takes a taste.”
“But how does he KNOW when to do it?”
“His senses all tell him to do so. He knows when to eat because the food has been all prepared, has been cooked, and is presented before him.”
“But what mechanism tells him that?”
The young man smiled. “His gut.”
“And so is it the same with women! They have been prepared through decades of aging and growth for this purpose. They dream it. They want it. Oh heavens, do they want it! They have been warmed through your fun, through your attention, through their desire, through your desire. They are presented through themselves. Do you think she is wearing what she does for herself? No, she is wearing it for you! Women are not ornaments to be admired. They are there to be consumed. You know it. They know it.”
“Nature has a system in place. No philosophy in the world can do you any good. The philosophies that supposedly ‘work’ are the ones that best match Nature’s music. You either can flow with the system and get what you want or you can buck it in pain. So LISTEN to that gut.”
The guy was on a prowl for a girlfriend. He approached many girls and did everything he could to WIN them. He failed miserably.
With one girl, he brought flowers. With another girl, he brought her gifts. Yet, with another girl he brought her candy.
In conversations, he would be agreeable to everything she said. In matters of planning, he would reschedule anything and everything on her whim. The women would become his sun with his entire life merely orbiting them.
But the poor guy kept crashing and burning.
“It is because they don’t know how good you are,” older women and friends said.
Yet, the guy noticed a pattern in his crash and burns. “The only constant is I. What if it is something I keep doing?”
He stayed the same. Unsurprisingly, he crashed and burned more. Eventually, something in him snapped. “No more!” he said. “Why am I acting like a beggar? I am smart, handsome, have a future, and women ought to work to get me!”
So, thus stopped the flowers, gifts, and candy- the agreeableness, rescheduling, and revolving around her whims.
“No more pedestals!” he declared, for…
“You are the Great Catch.”
“Yes!” says the Pook. “YOU are the prize to be won.”
The young man jumped up and down with joy. “Goody! That means I get to be passive, to continue to indulge in my vaporous habits, and not do a thing to alter myself! I like to hear that because it means I am perfect as I am and ought not change for anyone!”
Pook slapped him. “Foolish youth! If you are not changed by life, then you are not living life! Only those who are not altered by life are those totally unaware of it!”
But the young man was stubborn. “I” he said with a moral tone, “will not change for anyone.”
“What about for yourself?”
“I like myself the way I am!”
“All right! Enough!”
The young man was startled. He had never seen Pook angry. “I am what I am!” he persisted.
So Pook summoned two young men. Each stood in a corner. Pook then said, “Before us are two youths who are on the threshold of life. Both have the same origins. Yet, the destinations are different. Let us look at the first one.”
What was witnessed was that young man growing up. If he got a bump on his head, he would cry to his mother. He would pull on her apron strings. He felt safety and comfort in his mother. With his father, he felt an uncertain fear within him. His father was the one who set the punishments, the deadlines, the lessons that had to be learned. He preferred the company of his mother who seemed free from those hard edges.
Now the second young man’s childhood came into view. His life was exactly the same!
“Is there a point to this?” protested the impatient young man.
“Watch,” said the Pook.
The first young man never broke free from the enticing womb-like feeling around his mother. He sought to replicate it over and over. Off he tumbled into reality like tumbleweed blown every which way by the winds of the age. He didn’t know what he wanted to do in life so he did what everyone around him did. He was captive to his friends, never seeking to break apart to tend to his own matters or such. The playtime was too important to him, a part of that sense of ease and joy he had around his mother. He eventually found a girl, chose the first one that actually liked him (or tolerated him, he couldn’t know) and married. Alas! The marriage lasted only a few years until divorce came. “Why did she leave me?” whined the pathetic male. “I CHERISHED her! I bought her flowers everyday. I sang her sonnets. I always told her I loved her!” She complained, “He disgusted me.” The man goes through life, broken and re-broken, trying fruitlessly to re-build that sandcastle of childhood fun whiles waves of reality kept on crashing down on him. He dies forgotten and irrelevant.
“Oh!” cried the young man. “That is awful!”
“What is so awful?” Pook replied. “He was, after all, just being himself! Now for the second young man.”
This young man quickly realized that childhood was over. Rather then looking towards forever replicating that sense of summer vacation of escapefulness and feminine bliss, he launched himself at reality. “I will not live my life as a nothing!” he declared. His friends and friendly were astonished at his constant self-improvement, his constant blossoming of talent and will. He, in turn, was astonished at them. “It is like,” he would say, “That they are stuck in a type of stasis. I have changed; they acknowledge that. But THEY are exactly the same!” He got to PICK what woman he wanted. He got to PICK what career he wanted. He got to PICK his destiny. He answered life’s challenges and refused to retreat from them. Whereas the first young man was defined by the age within he lived, the second young man defined the age himself! When he died, countless people mourned. For they thought he was a genius. Others thought he was talented beyond description. Yet, others thought he was touched by heaven itself! After all, how else could these poor fools realize such success? “It couldn’t have been made,” they said. “He had to be born with it.” No, it was because he was a Man who chose to ground up the world, culture, and all to his vision rather than to be grounded up into the worldly culture’s axing wheel of routine and fashion.
“The difference is simple,” said the Pook. “The first young man is facing TOWARDS infancy. The second young man is facing AWAY from infancy. The first one wishes to climb back into the womb; the second one wants to fly from it. The first wishes a cushioned place in the world while the second one leaves the cushions behind. The first one is ordinary; the second one is extraordinary. Thus, the second one becomes the Great Catch while the first one merely becomes a filler of a void.
“I see…” said the startled young man. “The second one is always getting better. The first one is always staying the same if not getting worse.”
“Exactly! It is the difference between ROTTING and RIPENING. Be the good fruit! Be the PRIZE to be won!”
This young man thought he had become successful with his desire. Boyfriend and girlfriend were they; the hard awkward early moments finally gone. All was good! Except…
“I am hungry,” (are they not always hungry!?). “Fetch me lunch.”
Poor young man! He had enough wisdom not to do this earlier, but now, he told himself, “She is my girlfriend. I must make her happy!”
He brought her lunch. After feeding her face, was she satisfied? NO! For she said, “I need to do this and this at work today. It would be wonderful if you would go get the supplies for me.”
And off the Nice Guy went! And when he returned, there was another task. Poor Nice Guy! On and on it went! More tasks, more chores, he became wrapped around her finger.
Then, it happened: “I think we should just be friends,” she said.
The Nice Guy was devastated. But also, he was puzzled. He did everything he could to please her, and this was the result?
“Ahh,” he realized. “By pleasing her whims, I lost track of mine. A servant you’ll be, a friend she’ll see. As…
“Respect is All.”
“But Pook, why!? Why would respect be so vital?”
“I’m not equipped to answer such a question. Let us ask a Great Philosopher.”
And then, out of nowhere, appeared Socrates!
“Attention Socrates! You have been summoned! Did you know that? Answer the question that is respect.”
And Socrates replied, “That’s an easy one, Pook. Where there is reverence there is fear, but there is not reverence everywhere that there is fear, because fear presumably has a wider extension than reverence.” Socrates then vanished in a whirl of bluish smoke.
“Oh wise sage! Salient soul! Respect is the realization of set boundaries. After all, how can reverence become without any sense of fear (of you walking away!)? For true passion with women can only come when the man can easily walk away; the Great Catch walking away is woman’s Great Fear.”
“Yes. Now let us ask a question to that opposite sex. Arise woman!”
The woman enters with flare and fire.
“Answer this riddle, why do men who are willing to walk away turn you on?”
And the woman laughs. “Didn’t everyone know this? A man that can walk away means that he has his pick of the litter and the woman can easily be replaced. You won’t find the lawyer or doctor or politician be entangled to a woman at first.”
“Away you go!” The woman melted in a blaze of fire and flame.
“So the Great Catch is always willing to walk away?”
“The Great Catch is respect. She is supposed to celebrate life with you, not use you as a peon. Be a man and respect attends to itself.”
Now the young man had battle plans galore for the women. “If she does this…” he said, “I will do this.” He memorized the interest signals and was stuffed with philosophies.
Yet, he noticed that guys who did knew nothing of seduction scored left and right. How did they do it?
Also, he faced a big problem. Talking to a woman normally he was fine with. Talking to her with a sexual outcome made him feel guilty and dirty.
He knew being desireless was keeping him from being desperate, but it wasn’t getting him women. In fact, it seemed that those guys desiring the women would have their desire reflected back.
Then it hit him,
“Only the Sexual Ones get the girls.”
“I don’t get it, Pook!”
So Pook took the young man to the workshop of Leonardo da Vinci. The young man sat and watched the Pook stand before a large screen. Like Leonardo’s picture of Man, Pook had one of Woman.
Pook tapped on the Woman with his pointy stick. “Women,” he said, “are entirely sexual creatures. They do not respond to your intellectualism. They do not respond to your genius. They only respond to sexuality.”
“What do you mean, Pook?”
“Most men are scared of their sexuality! Look at the chumps! They are not men; they are androgynous. They are ape-like.”
The young man wasn’t getting it, so Pook summoned up a Nice Guy and a woman.
“Look!” says Pook. “The woman has invited the Nice Guy to her pleasure palace. She is wearing sexy clothing…” (The young man merely nods and drools.) “She is being a WOMAN!” (The young man nods enthusiastically.) She simply… IS. Now look at the Nice Guy!”
The Nice Guy was very frustrated and looked extraordinarily nervous.
“Why, he is not being male. He is not being what he is. Enough.”
Pook summoned up another example.
“Here, the Nice Guy is leeching off the woman in a pathetic friendship way. Anyway, let us ask the Woman: ‘Does Mr. Nice Guy have a penis?'”
“What!? Mr. Nice Guy!? NO WAY! He could never have a penis!”
But the young man was still confused. “I still don’t get it.”
“What do you want a relationship with a girl to be about?”
“Do you want to talk about DNA or genetics all day?”
The young man laughed. “Of course not!”
“Then stop talking to her about DNA and genetics! Stop talking to her about GEEK things. You do not need another lab partner.”
“I want sex. I want a sexual relationship!”
“Then embrace your own sexuality. Be a guy, talk like a guy, act like a guy. Do action things. It is one thing to talk about things you love, but most guys talk about things just to talk.”
“Sexualize myself, my appearance, and my actions, and the women will naturally follow?”
Oh, how he wanted success with women! Why did others do so well and he so poorly? All jocks did was breathe and grunt to get chicks, and he did everything possible with no success. Alas, the pangs of desprised love! She was beautiful, wonderful, but only wanted him as a friend. In fact, every girl he held desirous thoughts about thought of him as only a friend or less.
It was time for change! Information was the key, he knew. He devoured books, articles, anything at all about the nature of women and creating romantic success.
Then he met a Spanish guy named Manual.
Manual said, “Behold, for here is your battleplan:
Psychological Maneuvers! You shall learn Neuro-linguistic programming! Now speak like this: “When you HAVE THAT CONNECTION with someone, that WARM, SAFE, and COMFORTABLE feeling RIGHT THERE, then what sometimes can happen is…” With Manual, women became a sum of psychological instruments to be played to his tune.
“Guides! You shall learn and memorize the booklets of Societal Situations with Women.” Now he knew to do this when she did that, to do that when she did this, on and so on. Following Manual’s guides, he met a consistent success.
“Ceaseless Information! You shall never have too much information,” commanded Manual. Thus, countless articles, countless posts streamed underneath the young man’s eyes. At the end of the day he was still in front of the computer.
“I love you, Manual!” the young man cried. Any problems, any situations, Manual would always have an answer. He would consult with Manual day and night, memorize Manual’s teachings, and worship Manual.
But, oh oh. Something was not going right. He had burned the mantra in his mind, “Thou shall never stay on the phone longer than twenty minutes,” only to break it… with a startling success! Also ingrained was the mantra, “Thou shall never compromise,” and lo and behold! When he broke this rule, he usually crashed and burned. But this time he achieved high flying success. Soon, the rules that had so framed his courtly actions disintegrated.
“Ahh,” he realized. “These guides and rules were a clutch for my lack of confidence. They do, however, work but are overall limited.” Then he smiled. “The rules and guides are the training wheels, the helper out of the nest.”
No more shall he be completely dictated by that Spanish guy named Manual! He could now fly and soar on his own. So…
Be not contained by formula.
“If the rules and guides were successful, why would he abandon them?”
“Because he realized he was successful not by the rules and guides, but by the approaching and fun mindset the rules and guides demanded.”
The young man, as ever, was confused. So Pook, with his seemingly endless magic abilities, summoned up two men.
“One of these,” said Pook, “is an actor.” And the three watched the actor become Hercules, Henry V, Hamlet, and every hero with a capital H. But in person, this actor transformed into a wimp.
“What happened to the hero!?” wondered the young man.
Then they saw the other man in action.
“He is heroic!” marveled the young man.
“Indeed,” said the Pook. “One is naturally confident, the other is scripted.”
“But what is wrong with the scripted?”
“Nothing! But it is critical to realize the purpose of scripts and guides.”
“Which is what?”
Pook then took the young man to a place that overlooked two crowds of men. One group kept rushing back and forth to the man on the center pedestal, the Spanish guy named Manual. The other group consulted Manual only here and there, but traveled off in blazing new and fresh paths.
“What is the point?”
“It is simple,” Pook declared. “The point of Manual is not to grant you success. If you do, you will forever be under his dictatorship. The entire reason why Manual exists is to not grant you success but illustrate the means of success.”
“Meaning that a few people became successful and formed Manual out from the clay of their knowledge. Manual is their automaton, their robot, to consistently answer newbies’ questions. The end goal in seduction, in success, is to make it natural. When it becomes natural, you have no need for Manual and can handle anything women throw at you.”
“Argh!” the young man pulled his hair. “I used to think women were nice and charming, that only bad boys were the problem! This knowledge is shattering every ideal I held about women.”
Pook nodded. “These are but a few of the Harsh Truths:
Women would rather share a successful man than be attached to a faithful loser.
Many women do not marry for love.
Most divorces end up with the guy cherishing the woman but the woman detesting the man.
Even for long-term marriage, the Don Juan is the way to go.
The ‘innocent, nice girl’ is often the horniest and likely uninnocent.
Many women consider your looks, your career, what you can offer them, before your integrity and character.
Women are more sexual than men can even dream.
Women are not attracted to genius, only strength and imagination
Woman’s sole mission is union, either for pleasure or the fruits of children. She cares nothing for your philosophy and all except to either use it to catch interest in a guy or to enthrone herself.
Women, in sex, desire to be treated as an object and relish it.
Women place value in societal links; how they are thought of. You become her ego.
Why did some guys succeed with women without even trying while other guys fail with women no matter how hard they try? Why did these guys, seemingly arrogant, get women? Why did these jerks succeed where he, the nice young guy, failed?
“Because you’re a wimp!” answered the jerks. But the Nice Guy responded in a bashful tone, “But I am myself. I will never change for anybody.”
But this Nice Guy wasn’t receiving any dates, either.
“Haha, you are such a wimp!” said the jerks. The hot girls would laugh behind his back, “What a desperate chump!”
Desperate! Why was he acting as if the women were better then he? Why should he win her, let her win him! Why buy her gifts? Let her buy him gifts! This new attitude got him all the dates he needed. But why did he not adopt that mindset before?
He remembered the past voices in his head. What did they say? Let us hear them:
“You do not have muscles. What makes you think you can get hot women?”
“You are not that smart. Why do you think you can get the pick of the group?”
“You do not have a high paying job! Why do you think you deserve a hottie?”
And the loudest most annoying voice: “You are not as cute or handsome as the other guys. Therefore, you do not deserve a hot chick.”
Alas! He knew he was not Prince Charming so he did not act like one. But now he realized that Prince Charming is not the producer of the confidant thought; to the contrary, the confident thought is the producer of the Prince Charming. In order to be successful in the world, you must be successful in your mind.
“That is the secret,” he said during his revelation. For…
“As you think, you shall become.”
“And so long as you think, so long you remain free.”
“But Pook! What are you, a self-improvement seminar? Where is the woman in this?”
“Women come and go, but YOU are forever. The focus must be on you. What do YOU want in a girl? What do YOU want to do for a date? What type of relationship are YOU looking for? It is a machine to the ONE. You push the button and out she comes.”
“But Pook! What if she does not like your date ideas? What if she is different from what you are looking for?”
“Then she is not for you! The thing girls hate is when you cannot have a date idea (which happens to guys because they want to please her without thinking of themselves). You have a series of hobbies and tastes. If she likes your date ideas, then that is good. If she doesn’t, then go get another girl. There are billions out there.”
“But… that is… rejection!”
Pook slapped the young man. “Only if you place the focus on the woman. If you do that, then you actually believe it is women who are making the choice, not you. There is no rejection; you are merely finding out if she has good taste. After all, she is looking for a guy that fits her interests and tastes. If she doesn’t like you for whatever reason, let her! And thank her for doing so!”
“Which would you prefer, a woman who collapses her own interests for the sakes of yours merely to have a boyfriend or a woman who likes you because of you!?”
“Because of our tastes, our compatibility, runs parallel!”
“Indeed! Now think back to your Nice Guy days, those suffering days of endless agreement and non-confrontation. What service did you do to help find compatibility?”
“Alas, no!” The young man’s face turned white as he realized the utter disgust he was in his old ways. “I am so ashamed!”
“You’re not the only one,” said the Pook. “Look into the valley! Look at how Man has fallen!”
And the young man looked into the valley. There he saw hordes of Nice Guys throwing themselves toward an idol, the golden woman statue. Flowers, chocolate, bad poetry, and declarations of love were all tossed at the statue. Thunder then exploded.
Then, out of nowhere in graceful light and melodies of enchanted harps, appeared the Don Juan.
“What is he doing here?” muttered Pook. “This was not scheduled in the post.” [Sosuave Note: Indeed! The Don Juan spirit can appear in any post whenever he wishes!]
The young man called out, “Speak spirit!”
“I will call out to it.” Pook cupped his mouth. “Where from did you come!?”
The spirit stood there, silent, with a confident air of invulnerability.
Then Pook yelled, “Oh speak perturbed spirit! Speak thy truth!”
And the spirit, in great anger of how Men have turned into beastly chumps, threw the tablets he held at the fleeing Nice Guys. He spoke these words then vanished in a fountain of light:
You cannot be yourself without truthfully seeing yourself.
You cannot sacrifice character for joyfulness without ultimately destroying happiness.
You cannot control the situation, but you can control yourself, your emotions, and your life.
You cannot have women love you until you love yourself.
You cannot grasp the female nature until you grasp your male nature.
You cannot win her until you focus on her winning you.
You cannot fully know the principles of this website until you leave it.
You cannot obtain love by giving yours away for free.
You cannot fulfill your desire by letting it trump your integrity.
You cannot be yourself by denying your dreams and what it takes to achieve them.
Comfortable with himself and his successful habits, he relaxed and reacquainted himself with his friends. He noticed they had lady-problems.
“Why are women female?” one opined. “Everything would be much simpler if they weren’t female and would logically make sense!”
“Indeed! They are not just female but so annoyingly female.”
And on and on they complained.
Years later, the young man found his old friends married or in serious relationships. In every single one, the girl chose him. Each and every one of them was chronically unhappy.
However, they wouldn’t admit it to themselves. They said, “What! You are still single? Oh, poor guy! You will one day progress and get a chick like us.”
“Indeed,” said another. “I just got a new girlfriend and you are still single! Hah!”
And a third said, “We all are married or have girlfriends but you, poor chap, are still single. You need to start listening to our advice…”
And together they said, “Give the woman flowers, chocolate, poetry, declarations of love, your full attention, your promises, your exclusiveness, your time, your dreams, your LIFE and adopt her desires, her plans, her manipulations, and her designs on your future.”
The young man laughed. “Shrug off my Manhood for a girl? No thanks. For…”
“Getting a girl is not the success.”
“Pook! Whatever do you mean by this?”
“Most guys still think like women. They think that by sleeping with lots of women, by having a girlfriend, or by having a wife means they are successful with women.”
“You mean that ‘beggars can’t be choosers.’ You mean for guys to PICK the girl rather than the other way around.”
“You’re closer and that is true. But women date for all sorts of reasons. They marry for all sorts of reasons. They sleep with you for all sorts of reasons. To the addition of the above, you want to find a woman that is interested in YOU.”
“I don’t understand.”
So Pook summoned forth a guy and his girlfriend. The guy, smug, says, “I got a girlfriend now! Dobedobedo!” Pook summoned a single guy into the room. The coupled guy smugly said, “Oh, poor thing! You will get a girl like me one day!”
The single guy bowed his head and looked sad. Alas. He had no chick. Boo hoo.
“Now,” said the Pook, “let us fast forward several years.”
Years later, the guy and his girlfriend got married. Why did they marry? “It seemed like the next thing to do!” Alas, the divorce swiftly came in a few years.
“The error is guys defining their success on having a woman or women. They should rather be concerned with having a woman that DOES actually like them.”
“Why do you say this, Pook? It sounds like a bit more work.”
“Yes, but if you do this then you won’t be like the following:”
“She said she loved me and we got married! Why does she want a divorce now?”
“All my friends thought ‘she was a keeper’. So why is she cheating on me with her ex?”
“She won’t return my repeated calls? What is going on?”
“I do her date ideas and she thought I was ‘boring’. What does that mean?”
Pook shook his head. “When you aim at something long term, you need to make sure the woman like you. Just because she dates you, sleeps with you, and yes, even MARRIES you does not mean she likes you.”
“So what should I do?”
“You define what the dates are at first. She will work with you if she likes you. You can ‘soften’ up later like in a couple of months. If she starts breaking dates, giving you the run around, or seems INFLEXIBLE then that should be warning signs that she doesn’t like you.”
“I see… But what if you’re so awful at DJing that NO woman likes you?”
“Then you’ll have more free time with your buddies. Success cannot be getting a girl because that means failure is being alone. No. Failure is being in an unhappy marriage or a relationship where she has no true interest in you.”
“So the focus must be on you, including her interest?”
“Right. Drop the ‘getting a girl is success’ mantra and you will never be DUMPED.”
The young man showered himself with the ladies daily. Oh, how sweet this life seemed! But how sour its effects were! He felt hollow… as if he wasn’t true to something. And then, a Voice swelled up inside him.
VOICE: “Pestilence! You cannot keep me caged forever!”
“What are you, cruel voice? Your words like daggers in my heart.”
VOICE: “Then you are not valiant, for you fear the pointed tip like a soft worm. I am you, your inner self, your own imagination, and… if you like… soul. By caging me, your successes with women will spike with increasing frustration.”
“What! You are the one that is spreading this EMPTINESS through my body like a virus?”
VOICE: “You craven dismal-dreaming miscreant! You know you are now getting what you desired: women. So why are you so unhappy?”
“Oh Voice, most cruel and foul. You are the rudeliest welcome to this world. My answer is, because I haven’t found the right one…”
VOICE: No, you wimpled beef-witted wagtail! You have divided your emotions from yourself, your imagination from reality, your true personality from the universe.
“But I had to change because I wasn’t getting the women!”
VOICE: “And you failed because by keeping me caged, you limit yourself.”
“I act only in accordance to what women want.”
VOICE: But women want you to live in your own world, to stop bending over to be spanked (and not in the good way), a willy billy translating into a tampon that every woman uses for her needs (emotional, physical, social, etc.). You are the equivalent of the woman doing whatever to please the men. Yes, the girl that is the smokehouse where every man does place his meat. You are the Magical Tampon where every woman does place in her…”
“Oh you are a crusty botch of Nature!”
“All the things women want… confidence… humor… spontaneous… fun… These are all qualities of a MAN living out his imagination. Embrace your dreams! Stop trying to be ‘perfect’ in woman’s eyes for you’ll wrong the truest commandment with sexuality: Do not bore women. And…”
“Unite Dream and Day”
“Goodly youth, you have gotten a letter.”
The youth was excited. “A letter? For ME?” He hurried to rip it open. “Who is it from?”
And the youth did. He looked at Pook. “The address says the letter came from Womaniverse!”
“Indeed! Like a heaven over us, the ladies in Womaniverse watch us over. Yes, they always notice you. They look at your life and reward the men of the world with the feminine element.”
“But not all men get the same type?”
“Oh, no! Some get virgin material while the fools get common ore.”
“What else can you tell me of this ‘feminine element’?”
“It is highly relaxing, very ornamental in sports cars, explodes and freezes for no reason, and reacts well to gold, platinum, or any of the precious metals. It also turns green when placed near superior specimens.”
“What are you saying, Pook? That how we are the rock in their world, that they are the rock, an element of ballast for us in this universe?”
“Oh, silly youth! These thoughts are too feathery and fluff at nothingness in your dimension. Don’t think of it, only read the letter.”
“Do the women write to us men, often?”
“Rarely. Usually, women speak in ******** so we men don’t hear anything anyway. But, being a dutiful Pook, an emissary myself, I have translated the letter to masculine terms.”
“Thank heavens! Now I see why it’s in 19th century style!”
“Just read the letter.”
The youth held up the letter and read.
|Dear Sir,Do not be ungrateful to the women. They surprised you, perhaps shocked you, but they also prepared unexpected triumphs for you as author. Among these successes will be the control and direction you place on your own life and destiny.
But, alas, this will not be the fate for most. Indeed, for many of you, you remove one kingly focus only to place another error in its place! Instead of abolishing the throne, you just throw new ‘systems’ and ‘techniques’ on it! This is the cycle of chumpdom!
Yet, there is good reason to say that the ways of Nature are as infallible as they are inscrutable. For if you will just grant us a moment (what we shall very soon try to demonstrate through our messenger, Monsieur La Pook), we will show you a revolutionary revolution. The throne that kept controlling your life in some way, in some fashion, will finally be shattered, no matter what ‘system’ you place on it.
Your fellow nobles, all ambitious with dagger eyes, will try to place themselves on this throne of your world, to get you to live in their world. They will crown themselves with your dreams and say, “Look at me! I am the object and axis of your world. My whims become your laws. What you enjoy today, including your tastes in food, women, and cars, will be dictated by me. I alone will frame the world you live.”
Oh, you pitiful youth! There you go, bowing down, letting people control you. But locked within you is a promethean fire just waiting to unleash, phoenix like, a sexual combustion of soul and desire whose ingredients of dreams and thoughts lay ready and abundant within you. All you must do is combine these ingredients, combine your thought and action, your dream and day, and watch that throne be swept away.
“Oh, Pook! How strange these women be!”
“Indeed! One of the biggest surprises of my transformations into Don Juan was not that the older women noticing the difference, no, it was that they said, ‘It is like you have grown up.'”
“Why did they say that, Pook?”
“Because it was the truth. Why do you let people mold and shape your life? Your life is going in circles because you cannot tear yourself from your loser friends or stupid entertainment. Keep reading the letter.”
|The difference between a Don Juan and a chump is the difference between a Man and a child. Make no mistake, the Don Juan world and the chump world are as different as heaven is to hell.You see, sir, there was a time when this was known. Men strived and created a world of their own. They took what they wanted and asked questions later. They had designs on what they wanted to do in life and how to get there.
What we women despise the most is the broken male. It is the drifter, the Nice Guy, the chump who, when the focus of your energies is misplaced, production and energy are wasted and undone. Years of your life can pass by in this tragic manner.
Or worse, when the focus becomes seen as something that it is not, the male becomes the Nice Guy, just as a dog becomes a sheepdog, provided Nature does not guide it to freedom.
The life of a Man is not to be coddled and guided. All men are called to be leaders, even if it is not to guide other men you are meant to guide your own household, protect it, and keep your wife and children from the paths of error, defending your fruits of Nature from the locusts and storms of Time.
The youth put down the letter. “How odd and strange this note is!”
Pook smiled. “If one day, you actually get the chance to enter Womaniverse, you’ll be even more amazed.”
“And the key to get to Womaniverse?”
“…is to unite your Dream and Day. It is the only way.”
Alas! Whenever the young man approached a woman, a thousand Don Juan philosophies came to thwart his peace. All these IDEAS clogged his action!
Then he remembered how AWESOME he was with women when he was a little kid. He was always the Don Juan of the sandbox.
He wondered, “Have women really CHANGED?” No, only in his mind. At heart, women are still little girls. So when he saw the luscious babe sitting there, he smiled and saw a bored little girl looking for fun. He would make fun of her, do physical action things with her, take her by the hand to lead her somewhere, and she thought he was the perfect guy.
“I understand now the source of Cocky and Funny…” he smiled..
“Charm is treating women like little girls.”
“This is the most sexist thing I have ever heard!”
“You doubtful youth! You are a beanstalk cynic, a crusty philosopher.”
“How can you argue so rudely against me?”
“Look. When we were young, we all desired to grow up. Now, once grown up, we desire to be young again! Being poor, you trade your time and health for money, only to use that money for time and health. We have all passed through the world of a child.”
“Are you saying that I ought to be child-like?”
“Yes! Young kids, lacking the chemical madness curse that puberty brings us, are at PERFECT EASE and treat the sexes appropriately. No young boys will say, ‘Whatever you want to do.’ Young boys RUN AROUND, they do not sit and TALK to the girl all night. Young boys have their cars, their trucks, their dangers and excitements. Now, compare the young boys’ actions to those who are REALLY successful with women.”
The youth was alarmed. “They are identical! I always thought women were IMMATURE for going after these so-called jerks, bad boys, and jocks. I see that in some ways they are immature, but they kept that joy of youth with them whereas I had killed it.”
“Youth, what do you do on a date?”
“Why, I speak to her about philosophy, about literature, about the designs on the universe, about DNA, about world events, about…”
“Stop! I can take no more! Come and drink from this Fountain of Youth.”
The youth did so. All those paper bullets of the brain ceased. “Now all I want to do is do things and not talk. I want to run around. I want to have FUN!”
“And women go CRAZY over these types of guys. Some people are so scared of growing older that they become extremely aged in their youthful flesh. Now you will be the envy of every philosopher, scholar, thinker, and deep analyzer. You will be in the world they have no access to. Nothing has changed. The attitude you had towards girls when you were in the sandbox is EXACTLY the attitude you need now. So think young and LIVE.”
The young man had one problem left. He would be very successful with women, from one night stands, from casual dating, from relationships, and so on. Yet, every now and then, he got that feeling of something BURSTING through his chest like a creature popping out from Alien.
The woman would talk to him, “Blah blah blah.” He felt it inside, a very sweet but gooeish feeling. She would go on, “Blah yappity blah blah” and he felt the sickly warm feeling spread throughout his body. What was happening to him? “Yappity yap blah blah, yapitty, blah yap!” the girl continued as he felt the FEELINGS spread throughout his body, paralyzing him, like a poison. “Yah blah blah yah,” she went on, oblivious as he was collapsing from this sickness.
The next day, he had this OVERWHELIMG urge to send her flowers, chocolate, and bad poetry. It was too much, and he gave in, and saying, “You are my life. I love nothing else so well as you. I will do ANYTHING for you.”
Then she said, “I think we should just be friends…”
Oh, that AFC disease rose up again in him! How does one smash it forever? He smiled, and realized:
Always have a back-up chick!
“But Pook! Perhaps this guy was falling in love!”
“No. It was a False Love. Come and see.”
Pook led the youth inside Every Man’s Heart. Inside the cavernous room, each surrounding wall depicted television screens with a graphic.
“What is this place?”
“Every guy has a passion about different things. On that wall is his ‘car’ passion. We see many screens of different cars, all ones he loves. On that other wall there is his ‘food’ passion. We see screens of all his favorite foods. And if you come along here, you’ll find the Ambition Wall where screens show all the things he wants to do. Now look at the Women Wall.”
“Pook! There is only one picture on it!”
“Yes. Nature has designed us to love in a marriage way when there is only one picture on that wall.”
“I can understand that. But where is the problem?”
“The problem is that he is not married or engaged to her! So he is acting married to her when really they are ‘dating’ or ‘just friends’.”
“Yes. When a guy decides to go dating and dates only ONE chick at a time, only one picture will appear on the wall. When there is only one, he is designed to think of her in a marriage way. So he starts becoming AFC with this girl he just talked to.”
“So say if a guy is socially unskilled and has only one friend that is a girl, only that girl’s picture will appear on the wall? And because of that, he will ‘fall in love’ with his friend?”
“Exactly! If there is only one f*ckbuddy, he will eventually want to ‘date’ the girl, want to become exclusive with her, and turn into a total AFC.”
“But if he has a back-up chick…”
“…then another girl is on the wall as well. He can’t act ‘married’ if there is more than one girl up there. Thus, he stops becoming a ‘latent AFC’.”
“But what if he has his interest in other things? Shouldn’t he date only one girl then?”
“No. Either go for MANY or go for NONE. If you go for ONE you will become an AFC. Most guys are too LAZY or too SCARED to go for multiple girls. So they remain AFCs and forever remain in the vicious cycle.”
The young man had all the knowledge he could dream of about women and life. He stepped into the Casino of Life and approached the game. A man placed the dice, the new ones the young man had been so busy forging in his mind into the young man’s hands.
“Pook! I recognize the young man you speak of. It is you!”
“Alas, I’ve only been telling you my own recollections with every lesson here. When I condemn the young man, I am only condemning myself. Let us continue:”
Pook looked onto the board and saw the squares of victory with their prizes. He shook the dice in his hand, knowing that it wasn’t the victories earned that mattered. “The zest of life is the rattle of dice in the cup,” he said to himself.
The Gamesmaster asked, “Monsieur Pook, how much are you willing to bet on the throw of your dice?” Pook looked at his dice. They were the dice of Talent, Dreams, and Endurance. He looked at his stack of chips, one color being whatever property and ‘things’ he had, another being his societal connections including that of his family and friends, and the most treasured type of chip of one’s most awesome resource: time.
Pook told the Gamesmaster, “Put it all on the table.” The Gamesmaster looked alarmed. “But if you do that, you may lose all your property, all your society, and all your time, and thus, your life. Are you willing to bet all that on your Talent, Dreams, and Endurance?” Everyone in the Casino was looking at Pook now. Very very few people bet it all.
“All on the table,” Pook repeated, rattling the dice. Laughing, he rolled the bones and said,
“The greatest risk you can take in life is not to risk it all!”
“You can be the smartest person in the world, the most talented, the most persistent, but you will never win in the world or with women unless you embrace the glory of RISK.”
“But Pook, I am scared of risk. What if I lose?”
Pook slapped the youth. “You cannot lose! Everyone wants to define your life, to shape it to their ends. From politicians to your friends. Everything is all right as long as you stay you. But if you break out of the mold, everyone, and I do mean everyone, will try to stop you.”
“So how can we not lose?”
“Just as on the battlefield, the valiant warrior losing in glorious battle is honorable. It is not the victory that defines the Man, it is the fight. There are some people who somehow have this curse or bad luck and must eat an excrement sandwich everyday. They win everytime they struggle against that.”
“So to risk is to fight. Then all this knowledge and ‘insights’ are merely the sword, shield, armor, and weapons we fight with? And those who fight, unarmed, are more worthy than those who sit there completely clad with the finest of weapons?”
“Yes. Paradise, spoken slowly, is literally a ‘pair-of-dice’. Gamble what you have. For if you bury your talent and dreams to sit on it, you will receive the wrath of heaven. ‘Unworthy servant!’ will be screamed at you.”
“But what if the situation itself seems IMPOSSIBLE? What if ALL ODDS SEEM AGAINST YOU? What happens then?”
Pook, exhausted from this post, began to vanish towards the Pook Place where all Pooks come from. “Just remember…”
“Opportunities are brilliantly disguised as impossible situations!”