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.
Also titties.
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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@Lollypop
I have mixed feelings about it myself. As you said, it was useful to discuss the behavior of certain entitled white women, but the fact that it is gendered and almost exclusively used towards women is an issue. I’ve heard various male equivalents, like Kevin or Ken, but none are as widespread despite entitlement being very common in men. It also seems to be yet another example of white people stealing Black culture and ruining it.
@LollyPop:
I was going to say, the chin-length bob has been typed, not just in the manosphere, as the “entitled white woman” hairdo. Possibly because it’s pitched as the standard haircut for soccer moms, while simultaneously being one of the most high-maintenance ‘dos. Calling someone a fat cow is still unforgiveable, though, even if they actually do act entitled; this woman appears to have merely asked if anybody could lend her a pen—what hubris.
@’mantha:
qua is the best word: 13 points or more, gets rid of your q, short, includes common letters so you can easily place it.
The risk of course is that someone extends it and scores your 13 points all over again.
I’m unclear: does he have bulging muscles? He didn’t really mention that.
So he’s made from white bread, and he’s afraid of the hipsters. Huh. I thought real manly men didn’t know fear.
I can’t stand food bullies – people who pick on other people’s allergies and intolerances because they think it’s just a made-up affectation. It’s another form of ableism. They’re the assholes who terrorize allergic kids with peanuts and laugh at them.
Many of those bullies are in for a big surprise when they reach middle age and discover their system can no longer tolerate the things they used to eat with impunity. Sneering won’t do anything to prevent it. (And gluten is in absolutely everything, so have fun with that)
He’s a “mysterious writer”. Everyone else is just sheep mindlessly bleating trivial blather into a laptop.
Nobody else in the coffee shop notices or remembers things. Or uses big words.
Plenty of people are socially awkward and have trouble making connections, but it takes a redpiller to sit there silently insulting everybody and making up unflattering interior lives for them. This guy has a bad case of “I Need To Feel Special” syndrome, and since he actually isn’t all that special, he has to do the time-honored mediocre white male thing of hobbling the competition. And since he doesn’t deign to talk to people, it all takes place in his head.
You think you’re “Duke” to the people in this bar, but you’re probably more Cliff Clavin.
This reminds me of Davis Aurini forcing himself to sip scotch in his videos, in the mistaken belief that it made him look manly and experienced. “Sinful”? Dude, I too once thought that drinking was naughty. Then I turned eighteen.
This mysterious writer is in dire need of a mysterious editor.
Syncrisis (sometimes synkrisis) is one of my favorite words. It was used in ancient literature as “the comparative juxtaposition of people and things” and now just “the comparison of opposites”.
@numerobis
I favor qi or qat. They don’t require a U, and are easy to make with minimal letters if you’re stuck with the q at the end of the game. And there are less ways to extend them.
@Buttercup
They’ll also be in for a shock when their “game” no longer works (assuming it worked to begin with). It seems middle aged red pillers either end up turning into religious fundamentalists like Roosh or repeating weird Twitter poetry like Stefan Molyneux. Both seem to have had midlife crises upon realizing that they could no longer manipulate women into bed as easily.
@Moggie
For me, when I think of scotch I think of older women because it was my grandmother’s favorite drink. I’m pretty sure that’s not what DA was trying to invoke.
So he wasted an entire morning staring at people in a coffee shop and then got mad at them because he decided they were wasting their time? I read that right?
@ Some Chick in Texas
The redpiller slogan needs to be “When YOU do it, it’s (slur of redpiller’s choice). When I do it, it’s AWESOME.”
@Victorious Parasol
It really does.
My favorite coffeeshop when I’m “in residence” 🙂 and being fully Stacey (with the owner’s and manager’s ok, of course) in my favorite space, which they often reserve for me would SO freak this creep out.
I bet he’d run away.
Especially if I had one of *my* guys (probably with better muscles than this creep anyway) with me, looking at pictures of training gear on my computer and sharply putting the latest NiceGuy(TM) jerk, whoever he may be, in his place.
Creep has no idea.
But maybe I’d inspire some pathetic complainy blog post about mean entitled women who don’t do exactly what creeps want. That would be ok because then I could at least laugh and mock his pathetic whining which is what that kind of red piller whiners about women like me deserve
@Stacey
Good to see you back again.
@Naglfar
Thank you! Nice to see you too. I hope you are safe and well.
Things where I live are slowly getting better. The funding for my temple is getting going again but the sponsors who are funding it are looking at an existing building. It’s going to be organized as a performance art group LLC for legal reasons but our intent is also truly spiritual. It’s sobering as I realize the gravity of what I’m starting but exciting too and I’m ready (though the pandemic makes it difficult to do everything right away).
A hallmark of 21st Century conservatism is the idea that “THEY AND ONLY THEY” are privy to the Great Secrets
@Weird Eddie
They are the only ones privy, and they’re welcome to keep their Great Secrets for all of me.
Got absolutely zero interest in learning how to stick my head up my own arse. 🙂
@Threp
Well, if you change your mind and wish to learn I’m sure skimmingway in the other thread can teach you.
Am I the only one who likes bobs and thinks it’s a shame they’re always derided as a soccer mom cut these days?
The bob enjoyed a brief period of being in fashion in the early 2000’s and I was quite happy about it. Rachel from Friends and Buffy both had them and there was a whole entire article in Vogue or Elle about Kristy Hume, a model who was known for her very long hair getting the cut. I think it’s a flattering cut on a lot of people and I wore it for years after it went out of style because the curl in my hair doesn’t start until past my mouth, so a bob is easy for me to maintain. Maybe I’ll get it again. Part of the fun of now being 40 is I can embrace my past the wallness and not give a fuck.
@ WWTH
I’ve been rocking a stacked bob for years now, and would be rocking it still if corona hadn’t gotten in the way. I’m having to wear my hair in a ponytail these days, and am seriously considering asking Mr. Parasol to take the clippers and give me a 1-inch buzz cut.
This “stacked bob” wouldn’t happen to resemble the hairdo of your avatar, perchance, would it?
Think Twiggy, but fluffier.
@WWTH
I don’t wear one myself, but I think they look good on many other people. I do find it to be unfortunate that they are now associated with the stereotype.
@ Surplus to Requirements
Nope! The avatar hair is long and bunned up because I don’t have to wash it, comb it, or dry it. 😉 As Threp said, more Twiggy but fluffier.
Our salon honestly did have its share of privileged white women clients but I didn’t see our stylists doing those stacked bobs much.
I used to still see some older clients get a Rachel. I didn’t even know it was called that because I was a kid when the TV show was big.
Privileged white women clients usually treated me well and I wrestled with feeling guilty about it and making money from them and felt guilty sometimes about how much I enjoyed the attention because I knew on some level they were treating me well but only probably for the wrong reason or reasons that if I was honest conflicted with my feminism. That was true about working in the beauty industry generally. I still wrestle with enjoying my little part of something that big picture makes women feel bad about themselves and that misogynists use to justify abuse. But the success in my salon hostess job did get me to a better place in life where I’m a sponsored artist legally but recognized by some as literally a goddess and not some girl living in a tiny apartment choosing between either expressing myself and facing constant harassment from creeps or being safe but pushing down my own creativity. So I don’t know.
@Stacey
OK, this is probably a really foolish question, but I haz a puzzlement.
You don’t make them feel bad about themselves, right? You use your skills and your art at work to make people feel good. Same for your boss and your collegues, from odd things you’ve said here.
So, why feel guilty?