Gaming the Curse of Eve

The always brilliant and cerebral Rollo Tomassi, posted another insightful piece at The Rational Male, illuminating another facet of the feminine imperative.

Mrs. Tomassi looked me square in the face and said, “I am so glad I didn’t end up like that!” I was actually kind of surprised at the tone of her voice. “Thank God that’s not me, how horrible to be in that position at her age.” I nodded my head because I knew she was expecting my usually analyzations of post-Wall women and the beds they make. Then, with a hint of a tear in her eye, she gave me one of the best compliments I’ve ever heard from her, “I hope Bebé finds and marries a Man just like you.”

That made me feel really good, and what I’m about to type here sound really shitty. After not a small swell of pride, I thought, while it’s nice to be appreciated in this respect, would this realization have come without the influence of our friend and her state of life?

We know the answer to Rollo's rhetorical question.Of course it sounds shitty. That is the essence of the red pill: UGLY TRUTH.

In his incessant campaign to take over comment sections of the most influential blogs in the MAndrosphere, exhorting to all who will listen, the MAndrosphere's most infamous adderall and Ritalin junkie, GBFM, repeatedly makes his case that the only way to stop the decline and restore civilization is to re-discover the truth of the highest ideal mankind can aspire to: the code of masculine honor. Honor as exemplified and expounded upon in the canon of classic Western literature.

It is apropos that his list of GREAT BOOKS FOR MEN, both begins and ends with the Bible.

For what is the very first story of the Bible? The story of the fall of Man...by following the whimsical lead of HIS Woman.

Dalrock's recent thread, What is the Manosphere? sparked a discussion about the origins of these fringes of teh interwebz. The basis for most of the discussions found in the 'sphere regarding the relations between Man and Woman, can be found in the very first chapter of the GREATEST BOOK for men, long before Al Gore invented teh Interwebz.

Lately, there's been a dramatic increase in the proliferation of "red pill Women" blogs that have been popping up in these fringes of teh Interwebz. These are they who we can rightly call the NAWALT-women. For truly, despite the humor found in the typical woman's snowflaking tendencies, we should recognize that indeed there are NAWALT ladies out there.

These are the ladies who are capable of introspection and self-awareness. Of course, the only way she attains this state, is by recognizing and accepting the axiomatic truth that ALL WOMEN ARE LIKE THAT - including, and especially, herself.

NAWALT-Ladies are the ones who consciously and vigilantly focuses on her thoughts and behaviors to fight her base, natural state of perpetual discontentment, fueled by her innate solipsism and hypergamous mating instincts.

While the number of aware women are increasing, they are still few and far between. Most women in Western society are mindlessly following the Janet Jackson programming:

There's an old MGTOW way joke I remember reading on some blog back in the ancient days, before the MAndrosphere:

Man built civilization, turned to his Woman and said: "Look what I made for you!" She replied, "That's nice....now what?"

The "red-pill" woman takes frequent moments to step back and observe all that her husband does for her and their family, and she appreciates it and expresses it to him with her words and her actions. But even the best of them will admit that doing so is a constant struggle to avoid taking their husbands for granted.

This is one of the reasons why unaware, "blue-pill" husbands are utterly destroyed when their wives give them the Eat-Pray-Love frivorce experience. From his blithely unaware perspective, he has a catalog of things he's done over the course of years stored up in his own mental ledger. An accounting of all that he has done, built and sacrificed for their her benefit.

He assumes she knows the score, even if she doesn't often express gratitude and appreciation for it. These are the men who are emotionally and mentally devastated to find out she gives all of that previous provisioning, support and stability absolutely zero consideration,  while she's explaining to him that  she's not haaaaappppy.

A good provider is dependable. Dependability quickly and easily becomes routine. Routine for men is comfort.

Routine for women is boooooorrrrrrring, and after enough time has passed in a routine, dependable existence,  Eve's Curse kicks in and she no longer notices nor accounts for all that she already recieves in benefit from being married to him. She starts to focus on what she still wants but doesn't have or can't have.

A husband's comfortable routine becomes the wife's greatest discomfort.

So what does this mean for the "red-pill" aware husband?

Unexpectedly and randomly break routine. Do it with confidence and authority, and surprise her with your planned unpredictability.

I remember when I was a young Husband just starting to earn decent money after getting my first "real job" after college graduation. We began eating out at restaurants almost daily, with dinner and movies (either at the theatre or a DVD at home), becoming a regular, nearly every weekend routine. Eventually, the complaints that we "never do anything anymore" began to frequently rumble from her discontented id. It got to the point where taking her to the best restaurants in town was not enough to stave off this building discontent.

I distinctly remember one instance in which we went to an expensive seafood restaurant in a renowned Waikiki hotel, and I paid over $200 for appetizers, drinks and dinner, and she never said one word of thanks for the entire evening, nor expressed a single iota of delight or happiness at the fine dining experience. It was just par for the course. Another typical Friday night.

It put me in a bad mood, but at that point in my blue pill addled mindset, I was afraid to express my disappointment in her lack of appreciation. The hindsight of 20/20 vision illuminated by the red pill can be a painful and humiliating reminiscence...but it is quite instructive nevertheless.

Now that I've gone "Paleo" for the past 5 years or so, eating out at restaurants is something done rarely now...like once every other month or so. To this day, whenever I issue an unexpected "Get ready, let's go out to eat," invitation, it is cause for excitement and anticipation in the Galt household....and it doesn't have to even be a nice restaurant. A cheap noodle house or plate lunch meal is gratefully appreciated and a cherished, delightful experience.

Of course, there's a flip side of that coin. Part of the transition to the paleo paradigm of eating, was to embrace cooking on a daily basis. I now cook 50% of all the family meals. When I first took this up, she was impressed and full of praise, compliments and gratitude whenever I labored to create a tasty and nutrient dense culinary dish in our kitchen. But here we are five years later, and my efforts at creating unique and distinct meals with the highest quality ingredients, is largely now taken for granted.

Now, it doesn't bother me.

The old me used to seethe with anger whenever I got the "we don't ever do anything anymore" complaints.

"What do you mean? I just took you to a nice steak house last night, then we went and saw a movie after?!?!?!"

Now I know better. I know where this complaint is coming from, and I know what it will lead up to if I don't do something about it. Aside from my greater understanding of the underlying dynamics, I've found I actually have a true passion for cooking. I don't need her appreciation or approval to keep practicing the culinary arts...though I do have to say, she still does express appreciation from time to time. But most of the time, my cooking skills and service are largely taken for granted now.

It is what it is....for the curse of Eve is also expressed in the old maxim: "Familiarity breeds contempt."

At random intervals at unexpected times, don't be familiar. That's how you game the curse of Eve.





Eve had all the fruits of Eden at her disposal save the fruits from the trees of life and knowledge, but the allure of the forbidden was eventually too much for her to resist. As a husband, your history of dependable provisioning and caring is like all the other fruits of Eden. She enjoys eating it on a daily basis, she derives sustenance from it....but after awhile, she's just not thinking about it. She's only thinking of the fruit of those other trees she's not supposed to taste.

The curse of Eve is the irresistible allure of the unknown. It is intrinsic to the structure of her psyche. A primary feature of this mental dynamic of her thought process. By default, the feminine mind takes anything and everything she already has for granted, unless she receives some sort of up close and personal reminder -- like Mrs. Tomassi's expressing gratitude to Rollo after getting to know the details of their friend's life as a lonely, post-wall, spinster divorcee.I've experienced similar conversations with Mrs. Galt in the past as well when she discussing the depressed and lonely existence of some of her divorcee co-workers with me.

Surely Eve regretfully reminisced more than once of the bountiful fruits of Eden they used to freely and effortlessly enjoy, before God drove them from the garden and forced them to toil for their subsistence. She "HAD IT ALL" and she didn't know it, until it was taken from her.
 
She had the best house on the best piece of real estate, endless bounty of food, and her Alpha male for a husband (as the only Man in creation, by default he was the AMOG...lozlzolzol)...and yet it was not enough.

She HAD to have more, which made her susceptible to the serpent's temptations.

In the MAndrosphere, this is well understood and oft discussed characteristic of the female sex, and the discussions about it are deadly serious. But even the typical blue-pill, firmly-plugged-in-denizen of the Matrix of mass media controlled society, understands it at a visceral level. This is why nearly all (except fat, humorless feminists) laugh at this old "The Husband Store" e-mail joke:

A store has just opened in New York City that offered free husbands. When women go to choose a husband, they have to follow the instructions at the entrance:

“You may visit this store ONLY ONCE! There are 6 floors to choose from. You may choose any item from a particular floor, or may choose to go up to the next floor, but you CANNOT go back down except to exit the building!

So, a woman goes to the store to find a husband. On the 1st floor the sign on the door reads: Floor 1 - These men Have Jobs

The 2nd floor sign reads: Floor 2 - These men Have Jobs and Love Kids.

The 3rd floor sign reads: Floor 3 - These men Have Jobs, Love Kids and are extremely Good Looking.

“Wow,” she thinks, but feels compelled to keep going. She goes to the 4th floor and sign reads:
Floor 4 - These men Have Jobs, Love Kids, are Drop-dead Good Looking and Help With Housework.

“Oh, mercy me!” she exclaims. “I can hardly stand it!” Still, she goes to the 5th floor and sign reads:
Floor 5 - These men Have Jobs, Love Kids, are Drop-dead Gorgeous, help with Housework and Have a Strong Romantic Streak.

She is so tempted to stay, but she goes to the 6th floor and the Sign reads:
Floor 6 - You are visitor 71,456,012 to this floor. There are no men on this floor. This floor exists solely as proof that you are impossible to please.

Thank you for shopping at the Husband Store.

While this old joke is a funny take on the curse of Eve, it's not really an accurate reflection of the current reality.

Plenty of women purchase husbands from the first 5 floors. And of course, under the current market regulations of our Brave New World Order, women are allowed to visit the Husband Store as often as they wish, as long as they discard the older model first. In fact, they can ditch the older model husband and go get a new one while still ensuring the discarded one must still give her provisioning and support while she resumes her shopping. The only catch is this: every husband that can be found in The Husband store, must agree to be purchased before she can buy.

Many women indulge in multiple shopping excursions to the husband store...but eventually they all hit the wall. They find out that none of the men on any of the floors will agree on her desire to purchase them.

That's when she finds out that she can no longer go shopping at the Husband Store, so instead she starts going shopping at the Pet Store.