If the rumors are true, Donny, you just lost 2020

Donald, the American people elected you to do one job:

Hold the line on immigration.

Obviously that means no amnesty.

Not under any conditions.

There are other things that are important, but not that important.

So if what we’re hearing, that you’re supporting an amnesty, is true, you just sold out the American nation and made a civil war, of the literal variety, inevitable.

You also, if you care, just lost 2020.

(You also just destroyed your ability to portray yourself as a good negotiator. When the opposition opens with “We demand amnesty for 800,000 illegal invaders!” and your response is “Oh yeah? How about 1.8 million!?” you’re being ass-raped at the negotiating table.

By Chuck Schumer.)

The only shred of hope I see here is that the media, being liars, have done their usual “Let’s just lie!” and portrayed you as supporting something you don’t support.

Seriously, YOU HAD ONE FUCKING JOB.

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Don’t Cave on the Wall, Mr. President

The Dems and the God Emperor are currently engaged in budget brinksmanship about amnesty for illegals. Except for us, it’s not brinksmanship, because if we cave in on this there’s no way for us to save our country without a literal civil war. Actually, that may be unavoidable at this point, but battle space preparation requires that we minimize the number of invaders in our country when the shooting starts in earnest.

We cannot afford to cave in on DACA because that would mean the character of our nation is diluted yet more by a flood of other nations’ citizens… and when the civil war starts there will be more invaders in our country.

Back in July I wrote about why President Trump should hold fast on border defense:

1) The future of our country depends on it so there’s no reason not to. There’s nothing to lose. Even if the Left doesn’t back down, even in some worst-case scenario in which their constituencies riot in the streets, that’s not as remotely as bad as what will happen to our nation if we let immigration continue. And they’re already rioting in the streets and shooting at Republican Congressmen. Besides, as the Left gets more violent, as the Berkeley incidents show, the Right gets more violent in response. Violence doesn’t work well for the Left in this country.

2) The Left will be forced to say to Middle America, “We’re holding firm on the budget because we insist on undefended borders,” while Trump says, “I’m holding firm on the budget because I insist on defending our nation’s borders.”

Middle America loves the Trump position. The only people who like the Left’s position already vote for the Left anyway. So again, nothing to lose for us. It’s a losing position for the Left.

Ann Coulter last year:

The 1986 amnesty under Reagan was supposed to be a one-time fix. We’d forgive the estimated 1 million illegal aliens living here and, in exchange, draconian measures would be imposed on any employer ever caught hiring an illegal again — up to a $10,000 fine per illegal and jail time for repeat offenders.

We never got the employer sanctions.

There weren’t 1 million illegals — it was 4 million.

Don’t negotiate and certainly don’t believe anything the Dems (or certain Republicans) promise about future enforcement. We need to fight this out.

Now is the moment.

Red Pill in Fiction: Grossman’s Magicians series

Lev Grossman’s Magicians trilogy is an excellent fantasy series set in the modern world.

MagiciansCover
Magic, R-rated Narnia, and cellular automata.

The series stands apart from the run of the mill because – among other reasons – Grossman actually takes seriously the project of imagining what magic would be like if it existed in our world. This is done surprisingly infrequently in modern fantasy, and rarely done this well. The only other work I can think of that does it so well is Scott Hawkins’s brutal The Library at Mount Char. The red pill isn’t in the Magicians series to a great extent, but there’s a crimson lozenge here and there.

They don’t seem to be there by the author’s design. Grossman’s a hellasmart guy, but I don’t think he’s red-pilled. If he is, then part of his intention for the viewpoint character, Quentin, is to show a guy who’s not red-pilled and how that screws up his romance life. What I think more likely is that Grossman just got a lot of this stuff right either by luck, or because he was drawing upon some of the less happy interactions that he himself has had with the opposite sex.

Anyway: First book, The Magicians, a.k.a. Quentin goes to magic school.

The problem with the relationship between Quentin and Alice – and anyone who has read the book will instantly understand what I mean – is:

Alice is an intermediate- to advanced-level girlfriend.

Quentin is only ready for a beginner-level girlfriend.

What he needs at age ~19 is a girl whose shit tests are normal, not advanced, and are only occasional and not too hard to deal with. In other words, he needs a chick who is not shit testing him most of the time, and when she does shit test him, flings tests that are (1) obvious and (2) standard. Something like suddenly snapping at him, in a bitchy tone of voice, “Don’t do it that way! Do it this way!” with an unspoken addendum of “…you idiot!” In other words, Quentin needs a ~19-year-old girlfriend who will give him standard shit tests of the sort that start in 8th grade and continue through college, for most chicks. That will get him going on the learning process (if he’s willing to learn) that would eventually let him handle a girl like Alice.

The problem is that Alice is at an entirely different level of shit testing. She doesn’t fling particular shit tests at him; rather, her entire personality is one big shit test. She is a shit test. Truly, this is a different kind of shit test; it’s not just the same stuff, but more of it. A woman who is herself a walking, breathing shit test is a different kind of thing to deal with.

It takes a certain kind of man to handle a woman like this intuitively. Otherwise, she can only be handled by a game-aware man who has had a certain amount of practice dealing with women from the perspective of utterly amoral sex war, which is the female sex’s natural perspective on male-female interactions. Either that, or a natural playah who has had so much pussy already, that he doesn’t have to fake a cavalier indifference to any one vagina, because he does, in fact, have a cavalier indifference to any one vagina.

Alice is actually an asshole. If she were a real person… hmm, but if she were a real person she never would have been with Quentin in the first place. (In the third book in the series, The Magician’s Land, Quentin and someone else discuss this puzzle [in Ch 20]. I was glad to see the puzzle of how Quentin and Alice got together explicitly acknowledged in-text.) But if their relationship were a real one – if we ignore the fact that it’s fundamentally implausible – I would (after predicting its imminent death) diagnose it as follows:

Alice is full of rage because she can’t find a man who will stand up to her shit testing. If a woman can’t find a man who will swat down her shit tests, she becomes full of anger because she feels she cannot find a male who is worthy of her (this is an aspect of standard female hypergamy). Alice is brilliant and magically powerful, so with the female hypergamy built into her neural hardware, she’s a walking rage bomb. God, there is so much anger in Alice. It’s weird: it’s like Grossman got that detail right without understanding why.

Then there’s the drama, which Alice carries with her wherever she goes. But again, it’s not so much that she creates dramatic scenes at particular moments – though she does that too – as that she herself is a walking blast of drama. She is constantly wondering why, though she’s an incredibly powerful magician, she was not detected by the Brakebills magic school and invited to enroll. She had to force her way in through their magic wards, upon which event the faculty basically said, “Okay, okay, fine, if you’re that strong, and if it means that much to you.” But the big unanswered question of her existence is what is so wrong with her that she wasn’t invited in the normal way. Later, we learn the answer to this question, which dials up the drama even more.

Anyway, she carries this drama around with her constantly. It is, as with her shit-testing, an entirely higher level of drama from that chick you made out with that one time in 8th grade and then started acting all weird. Quentin is not ready for this, either.

SPOILERZ UP THE ASS BEYOND THIS POINT.

In the first book, Alice turns herself into a powerful demon (with the unlikely name of niffin, which sounds like a kind of cake that English people would have with tea. “Would you like another niffin, dear?” “Yes, thanks so much!”) because this is the only way to defeat the ultra-powerful bad guy that she and her friends are up against.

In the third book, Quentin figures out how to convert her back to human form. After sleeping 20 hours and getting re-accustomed to having a physical body, etc. she goes into full-bore drama mode:

“You robbed me.” She spat it… “I was perfect. I was immortal. I was happy. You took all that away from me. Did you expect me to be grateful? Did you? I didn’t want to be human again, but you dragged me back into this body.”
She held up her hands like they were low-grade meat, a butcher’s discards.
“I lost everything, twice. The first time I gave it up. But the second time you stole it.”

Well! That’s the quite the speech! But there’s one little problem: Alice knows the spell to turn herself into a niffin! That’s how she came to be one in the first place! So if she really wanted to, she could just cast it again. So she’s just being a melodramatic asshole.

Quentin figures out how to deal with this crap eventually, though it’s not how I would have and it’s not particularly red-pilled.

Pulling back for the broad view: Overall, this is a very well conceived and executed fantasy series. Just one caveat: It tends to provoke extreme responses; people mostly love it or hate it. So read enough to decide if it’s your kind of thing before purchasing.


Index page for my Red Pill in Fiction posts:
https://neurotoxinweb.wordpress.com/2017/11/25/red-pill-in-fiction-index/

CLONE WARS: Stupidity on Cloning

I originally wrote this ~1997, in response to some of the more fuckwitted reactions to the Dolly the Sheep announcement. It has a couple of dated references to celebrities, which I’ve left in on the grounds that they add an element of period charm.

The idiotic commentary on cloning serves as a sharp reminder of the low intellectual level of the human species.

What follows are some of the more extremely cretinous objections raised against cloning in the weeks immediately following the Dolly announcement, along with remarks highlighting their already obvious imbecility.

1. Cloning will cause a gradual accumulation of genetic defects.

Why?

Because gene surgery, like everything else in this vale of toil and sin, will not be perfect, so mistakes will be made, and must inevitably accumulate over time. Asymptotically, the entire human race will be genetic freaks.

Here’s why this argument is moronic: First, cloning and gene surgery are not the same thing. Second, mistakes—mutations—occur all the time in nature, but they don’t accumulate over generations. (Unless they’re beneficial, in which case no prob.) Third, any society advanced enough to do gene surgery in the first place, will be advanced enough to use gene surgery to correct the mistakes made by gene surgery. Following this kind of “reasoning,” cars must be getting worse all the time, because mistakes are made sometimes, and “they must inevitably accumulate.”

2. Cloning will cause a loss of genetic diversity.

Why?

Because everyone will just copy himself.

Uh-huh. Yeah, sure. But whatever. Suppose everyone in the world elected to copy himself. Then the genetic makeup of the next generation would be exactly identical to the genetic makeup of this generation, so the level of genetic diversity would also be exactly the same. Fucking duh.

3. Cloning is like incest. (Yes, someone actually said this).

You’re an idiot.

4. Clones would be bought and sold like slaves.

If this isn’t legal for people created the traditional way, why would it be legal for clones? I’m not aware of any clause in existing laws that says “…unless the victim is a clone.” And if there were such clauses, the thing to do would be to eliminate them, not to outlaw cloning. Argument a la mode: “Women are sometimes raped! Therefore we must outlaw… women!”

5. Corporations would own cloned children because they’d be perfect workers, or something.

See above. And if you’re not a perfect worker, a clone of you wouldn’t be either.

6. Cloning violates a person’s right to be unique.

Oh, now there’s “a right to be unique.” WTF?

Round up all parents who have twins or triplets, and string ‘em up.

7. Cloning raises tough questions about the nature of free will.

Like what?

8. The rich would be able to afford it and the poor wouldn’t.

I suppose if you’re a socialist this seems self-evidently a bad thing. The response from the rest of us: Yeah, so? The entire point of being rich is being able to afford lots of goodies. Furthermore, if you really think it’s unacceptable for anyone to be able to afford stuff other people can’t (and if you have a touching faith in government programs) your argument does not support outlawing cloning; it supports making it an entitlement.

9. It’s like Naziism, what with all the shades of improving the race.

The Nazis were evil because they killed people. If someone resolves to improve the human race by producing children only if the other parent is a physically perfect supergenius, fine, let ‘em. That doesn’t hurt anyone. The same applies to doing it without the sex, even if it’s not as fun. I’m not an advocate of zero population growth, but if any are reading this: An article in The Times on September 13, 1977, made the following droll observation: “The principle that a lesser but early benefit will offset a substantial but postponed liability is one which rules human life; indeed, it is the principle on which the human race reproduces itself.”

10. The government could take an individual who is a perfect soldier – strong, fast, and obedient – and make thousands of copies of him, thus making the military and law enforcement forces more efficient and therefore more dangerous to liberty.

If this really worries you, excellent. Join those of us who want a smaller, less powerful government. Either that, or be consistent and oppose all technology that could, in theory, possibly be used in some way by government to limit individual freedom. Of course, that means all technology.

Also, see the above remarks on the illegality of slavery. If the government can’t own children and dictate that they be professional soldiers now, why would they be allowed to do so for clones? Oh, wait a minute. The government can force people to be professional soldiers; that’s called the draft. Well then, let us oppose a reinstatement of the draft, which is, as a matter of objective fact, unconstitutional, since the Constitution forbids involuntary servitude. See the Thirteenth Amendment. In the absence of the draft, most of the government’s intended military slaves would just say, e.g., “No thanks; I’m going to be a party planner.”

By the way, note the technology available to the government also would be available to private individuals, so they could adopt cloned babies of an individual who is strong, fast, and courageous – thus evening up the odds in conflicts with minions of the State.

Addendum January 2018: How easy would it be to design a bioweapon that would kill 100% of these soldiers: They’re all genetically identical, LOL! (It just hit me that that’s a serious problem with the Star Wars clone trooper thing.)


The glaring common feature in all the above objections to cloning is that they’re all easily refuted by someone who has the desire to be objective about it. Quite evidently, not everyone has the desire to be objective about it. This is a real mystery. Why cloning? What is it about cloning that makes people so prone to spout off without even going through the usual rudimentary activity commonly labeled “thinking”? Will someone who “thinks” like this kindly tell me the emotional reasons, that is, the real reasons, that everyone finds this so horrifying?

I think y’all have been exposed to too much bad science fiction.

If you’re afraid that “corporations” or the government might steal your genetic material, may I suggest, with all due respect, that you’re flattering yourself? Also, why would they? Do they steal kids now? Do they secretly fertilize human ova and train the resultant people to be CIA assassins or whatever? Whoa. Huh huh, that would be cool. But there are easier ways to get assassins, and anyway, it’s a bit too late to worry about it. You see, the ability to do this is a matter of test tube baby technology, which is distinct from cloning and which has been around for decades.

Maybe you don’t like the idea of a rich guy like Ross Perot making a hundred copies of himself. I don’t like that idea either, on aesthetic grounds, but we needn’t worry. If Ross didn’t choose to have a hundred old-fashioned kids, why would he choose to have a hundred clones? It’s not as if it would be less costly to raise a cloned child.

Ah, maybe that’s the issue. Maybe you slightly slow individuals have forgotten about the laws of conservation of matter and energy. You envision this technology creating a new adult instantaneously and out of thin air, by wave of the technological wand. Never fear; this is science, not magic. It’s not even Star Trek. No, there aren’t any matter transmuter thingies. Raising a clone to adulthood would take exactly the same quantity of time and other resources as raising any other child to adulthood. If your neighbors can’t afford to feed, clothe, etc., ten old-fashioned kids, how are they supposed to afford it for ten clones?

There’s this thing called thinking and it would benefit us all if you hoi polloi would try it every now and then. As an exercise in noblesse oblige, I will now take you step by step through an example of this process as it applies to cloning.

Let’s return to the example mentioned just above of the laws of conservation of matter and energy. Since I have two brain cells to rub together, this point is simply obvious to me, but I’ll pitch it down a level to make it easier. Despite what many say, the important thing in thinking is not so much to avoid jumping to conclusions, as it is to actually check the conclusions to which you have jumped.

The first step involved in thinking is to identify in specific detail the scenario you’re thinking about:

Step 1. The scientists press a button and instantly, a Tia Carrere look-alike appears on the laboratory workbench. Also, she’s naked (here at Neurotoxin we believe that learning should be fun).

The next step is to list in detail what would be required for this imagined event to occur:

Step 2. More than one hundred pounds of matter, in the form of gorgeous dark eyes, high round cheekbones, etc., have suddenly appeared next to the Bunsen burner on our laboratory table. This requires one of two things: either matter-energy that did not exist one second ago exists now, or matter-energy has been converted from one form into another very rapidly. The first is impossible; it violates the laws of physics. Also, if scientists had found a way around the conservation of matter-energy the last thing they’d be chatting about would be cloning; it would be about, for example, the best technique for blowing your nose into tissue made of gold, constructing Jeep rollbars out of solid diamond, etc. So we must be assuming instantaneous conversion of matter from one form into another.

Let’s consider the “out of thin air” scenario. Earth’s atmosphere is about seventy-nine percent nitrogen, twenty percent oxygen, and one percent carbon dioxide, which is in turn composed of the elements carbon and oxygen. The gorgeous piece of femininity we’re ogling at is assembled partly from these three elements (i.e., nitrogen, oxygen, and carbon) but also, among other things, iron, hydrogen (in water), calcium, etc. Thus our latest science project could not exist unless we had the ability to convert any arbitrarily selected element into any other one, for example, nitrogen into iron, and so on. As it happens, we cannot do this – that’s another scenario in which you’d be hearing about golden Kleenex. (We can convert some elements into other elements—for example nuclear breeder reactors convert uranium 238 into plutonium 239—but only for a small number of special cases.)

Summing up, for the scenario we’ve envisioned to occur, we’d either have to create matter out of nothing, which violates the laws of physics as we presently understand them, or we’d have to be able to convert any element into any other element, which we cannot do now and may never be able to do.

Finally, note there is also the organizational problem of assembling our black-eyed siren, even if we did have all the ingredients. I mean how, in detail, do you convert eighty-five pounds of water, a bunch of carbon, and so on into a set of working lymph nodes, hemoglobin-laden red blood cells, perfectly proportioned calcium endoskeleton, etc.? Or consider the brain: since we don’t understand how it works, how are we supposed to build a working model, from scratch no less? Now I know you anti-cloners are stupid, but even you should have realized this task presents some difficulties.

Of course in a practical sense everyone does know how to turn so much free oxygen, etc., into living human biomass, but our role in such a project is limited to what can be accomplished in the first thirty minutes or so, with no instruments more complicated than a couple of gin and tonics, some crotchless panties, and a pair of thigh-high spike-heeled black leather boots. After that, we just release the resultant biohazard into the environment and watch the mysterious process of its self-assembly. It’s sort of like downloading a self-extracting ZIP file.

In conclusion: the process of thinking, in the proper sense of the word, requires, among other things, attention to real-world details. You have to imagine specifically, concretely, how the scenario you’ve imagined is to be accomplished. If we’re talking about science then it might occur to you that the laws of physics are sort of relevant. If you’re not sure whether we can do things like violate the classical conservation principles of physics, one way of getting a vague clue is to imagine what the world would be like if we could do so.

For example, if we could say a magic word and have a ton of anything appear, the world would be a very different place, different enough that you’d notice. The price of all precious metals would drop to zero. Formerly starving Africans would suddenly appear rather corpulent. Terrorists would alter the Earth’s orbit by creating another planet the gravitational pull of which would jerk Earth around. And so on. In short, you’d know about it.

Whew! This has been a long exercise in the way a person who is not mentally challenged sees the world. I hope that you have learned something about this activity called thinking. If you don’t believe your intellectual skills have been improved, may I ask that you not vote ever again? Oh, and please don’t reproduce – by any method.

Hillary Clinton: Loser

Via Amanda Green at Sarah Hoyt’s site, some choice quotes from Hillary Clinton’s book about the 2016 election:

Spoiler: She lost. She LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOST.

THANK GOD.

Anyway,

For weeks, I had been carrying around heavy binders full of memos relating to the transition and the first decisions I would have to make as President-Elect. There were Cabinet Secretaries to pick, a White House staff to hire, and a legislative agenda to begin working on with Congress.

LOL. I love how she admits that he was just assuming she was going to win. She really has lost her touch, politically (assuming she ever had it and it wasn’t just the media protecting her). The correct thing to say, in this sort of situation, is something like, “I knew that the outcome was uncertain and you can never take anything for granted.” In other words, you’re supposed to try to NOT make yourself look like an overly cocky asshole. Duh.

Another amusing quote:

I also think about the strong headwinds we faced, including the rise of tribal politics in America and across the globe, the restlessness of a country looking for change, excessive coverage of my emails, the unprecedented late intervention by the director of the FBI, the sophisticated misinformation campaign directed from the Kremlin, and the avalanche of fake news. Those aren’t excuses…

LOL!!! “Excuse excuse excuse. Those aren’t excuses.”

This is another reason she lost: Even her base got fed up with the insults to their intelligence.

PS: Dear reader, you have no idea how hard it was to resist applying the “Fiction” tag to a post about Hillary’s book.

Red Pill in Fiction: The Other Boleyn Girl

Philippa Gregory’s The Other Boleyn Girl is a superb novel, particularly with respect to characterization. I may return to this novel in depth in the future, but today I simply want to lay out an unsurpassed example of girl game in fiction.

OtherBoleynCover
People at the King’s court had better be good at intrigue, or heads are gonna roll!

Anne Boleyn as portrayed here is a high-social-intelligence amoral Machiavellian manipulator. She has decided that she is going to marry Henry Percy, a powerful and wealthy English lord. Boleyn is alarmingly adept at manipulation. (It kind of makes one wonder about Philippa Gregory!) She’d defeat Scarlett O’Hara in some sort of “Who can get a certain man to propose to her?” Ultimate Grudge Match. O’Hara, while just as amoral pragmatic as Anne Boleyn, is a little too inclined to let her emotions run away with her (recall that she’s dizzyingly in love with Ashley Wilkes). Boleyn, in contrast, is remorselessly purposeful. She does nothing that’s not thought out.

Anne’s pursuit of Henry Percy begins in the chapter titled Spring 1523 (page 123 in my paperback copy). As told by the novel’s narrator, Anne’s sister Mary (with editing for brevity):


After that I watched Anne with more care. I saw how she played him. Having advanced through all the cold months of the New Year, now, with the coming of the sun, she suddenly retreated. And the more she withdrew from him the more he came on. When he came into a room she looked up and threw him a smile which went like an arrow to the center of the target. She filled her look with invitation, with desire. But then she looked away and she would not look at him again for the whole of the visit.

It was clear that he only had eyes for Anne and she walked past him, danced with anyone but him, returned his poems. She went into the most unswerving of retreats, having been unswervingly in advance, and the young man did not begin to know what he could do to recapture her.

He came to me. “Mistress Carey, have I offended your sister in some way?”

“No, I don’t think so.”


Skipping ahead: Eventually Percy finds Anne in the gardens of the palace and asks her to walk with him. Here I feel the sting of the omissions I’ve had to inflict for brevity. The omissions make this whole episode of Anne ensnaring Henry seem more direct, more blunt, than it is in the novel. In the novel Boleyn masterfully starts the thing at a simmer and brings it to a boil, and I’m not really conveying the smoothness of it here. But let’s continue. From here on the only two people present are Henry and Anne; the narrator is relating what follows as Anne tells it to her later.


He led her away from the bowling green, down the winding path that led to a seat beneath a yew tree.

“Miss Anne.”

“Your Lordship?”

“I have to know why you have grown so cold to me.”

For a moment she hesitated, then turned a face to him which was grave and lovely.

“I did not mean to be cold,” she said slowly. “I meant to be careful.”

“Why?” he whispered.

She looked down the garden to the river. “I thought it better for me, perhaps better for us both,” she said quietly. “We might become too close in friendship for my comfort.”

“I would never cause you a moment’s uneasiness,” he assured her.

She turned her dark luminous eyes on him. “Could you promise that no one would ever say that we were in love?”

Mutely, he shook his head. Of course he could not promise what a scandal-mad court might or might not say.

“Could you promise that we would never fall in love?”

“Of course I love you, Mistress Anne,” he said. “In the courtly way. In the polite way.”

She smiled as if she were pleased to hear it. “I know it is nothing more than a May game. For me, also. But it is a dangerous game when played between a handsome man and a maid, when there are many people very quick to say that we are perfectly matched.”

“Do they say that?”

“When they see us dance. When they see how you look at me. When they see how I smile at you.”

“What else do they say?” He was quite entranced by this portrait.

“They say that you love me. They say that I love you. They say that we have both been head over heels in love while we thought we were doing nothing but playing.”

“My God,” he said at the revelation. “My God, it is so!”

“Oh my lord! What are you saying?”

“I am saying that I have been a fool. I have been in love with you for months and all the time I thought I was amusing myself and you were teasing me, and that it all meant nothing.”

Her gaze warmed him. “It was not nothing to me,” she whispered.

Her dark eyes held him, the boy was transfixed. “Anne,” he whispered. “My love.”

Her lips curved into a kissable, irresistible smile. “Henry,” she breathed. “My Henry.”

He took a small step toward her, put his hands on her tightly laced waist. He drew her close to him and his mouth found hers for their first kiss.

“Oh, say it,” Anne whispered. “Say it now, this moment, say it, Henry.”

“Marry me,” he said.


Yikes! That’s terrifyingly good girl game. It is even better in the novel, not only because there are no omissions, but because by the time we get to this point Anne Boleyn has been established as the most purposeful and competent manipulator in a court full of purposeful and competent manipulators. One should also keep in mind that at this time, women were constantly plotting to make men marry them, and men were aware of this and constantly careful to avoid being tricked into a match they didn’t want. None of that hinders Gregory’s Anne Boleyn. It’s all just grist for her high-functioning, Machiavellian mill.

One’s first thought is, Whew! I’m glad I’ve never met a woman like that!

One’s second, chilling, thought is, What makes you think you haven’t?

Of course, we all have encountered people (men and women) like this. Statistics guarantees it. But most of them manage to cloak themselves most of the time, devoting a significant fraction of their manipulative social intelligence to hiding their manipulative social intelligence.

I once read, in an article about sharks,

“Beach swimmers would probably find it unnerving if they knew how often sharks cruise underneath them while they swim.”

What Lies Beneath indeed.


Index page for my Red Pill in Fiction posts:
https://neurotoxinweb.wordpress.com/2017/11/25/red-pill-in-fiction-index/