By David Futrelle
My new favorite Red Piller is Red Pill Duke, the not-so-humble proprietor of a blog called “Fight Club Theory” that purports to educate the masses on how to live one’s best bachelor life.
Most of his posts cover regular Red Pill stuff, ranging from lists of the “20 Rules of the Bachelor Life” (rule one: “No marriage!” seems a tad obvious) to the alleged disposability of the human male.
But sometimes he takes his little literary wings and just flies. Consider one recent post with the unprepossessing title “Coffee Shops and Bars.” In it, Red Pill Duke reports the result of a pre-quarantine experiment of sorts in which he spent a day tapping out his thoughts on a laptop while hanging out first in a coffee shop and then in a favorite bar.
It becomes quickly evident that he didn’t much like the cafe or its inhabitants.
The coffee shop is well lit, but full of society’s hipsters and posers. People plugging away at computers diligently working very hard to produce fuckall. Despite the crutch of stimulants and a perfect workspace, little seems to get done. Nearby a fat cow of a woman with a “speak to the manager haircut” walks in. She asks for a pen. She will likely crucify me if I give her my pen that says “www.redpillduke.com” on it. I say nothing while stacking up words in my mind to type later.
He never specifies which words he stacked up. I’d like to imagine they were cromulent, badger, metempsychosis, and shard. Those are pretty good words.
As a mysterious writer tucked away in the corner, I continue to mind my own business. I’m observing. A preserver of these evanescent moments of daily mundane activities. I am fitting in with my beanie and cozy sweater. My bulging muscles betray me and I fear their gluten intolerant noses pick up the scent of my toxic masculinity.
They probably did, if you spent your whole morning sitting nursing a single cup of coffee, scowling disdainfully at everyone around you. People can pick up on that.
Later, in the bar, RP Duke feels much more at home.
The bar is the yang to the ying of the coffee shop. It is dark and quiet.
Uh, the yang to the yin. No g. The Ying-Yang Twins are a rap group; the yin and the yang are the philosophical concepts.
A few of society’s more decadent and thus interesting, wander in and out of its cozy atmosphere. They talk of the truths of the town in quiet but more honest discourse. …
I belong here more than the coffee shop, not because of my demeanor or clothing choices. No, I belong here because everyone knows my name.
Huh. So you feel more at home at a place you go to all the time than at a place you’ve been to once. What an amazing revelation.
I once brought a woman I was seeing to this bar. I shit you not, I walked in and three fucking women gleefully shouted “Hey Duke” at me as I walked her in. The ultimate pickup artist couldn’t have planned a better dread game. … As we leave the bartender hugs me. This is the first time she’s done this. Her giant breasts press against my bulging chest muscles as my girl glares at her.
And then everyone in the bar stood up and applauded. That bartender’s name? Albert Einstein.
Amazingly, while RP Duke can use words like “evanescent” correctly, he sometimes struggles a bit with simpler ones. And he has a devil of a time sorting out some rather basic grammar. At one point he has this to say about the inhabitants of the bar:
They also know me cause I’m hear every week and my tongue loosen with each sinful sip from my steel member’s cup which dons my name.
There are a lot of sentences like that.
Yet the mothers against decadent delights decide that this drugs is bad while others are good.
In walks a man with a distinguished mustaches…. belay that. He shaved it off for the current flavor of the week.
The world may run on caffeine, but it is alcohol that stimulate true action and that is what makes change possible.
Here’s a thought, dude: try not to write when you’re drunk. Or maybe try not to write at all.
Oh, who am I kidding? Keep writing, dude. I always need material for my blog.
H/T — Big thanks to TakedownMRAs on Twitter, who introduced me and the rest of his followers to this delightful fellow.
Send tips to dfutrelle at gmail dot com.
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