I could never call a man truly intelligent if he doesn't understand the simply sexual reality and physical benefits of hard physical exercise which produces a masculine appearance. There is no reason for those with High IQ's to not apply their intelligence to their physicality and sociosexual navigation other than simple arrogance and disdain for the strong.
(05-24-2016 09:21 AM)scrambled Wrote: Good for them, but I seemingly can't do this; I get spotted instantly by smarter girls, even if I use simplified language and try to run 'joe six pack' game. I do badly with lower-class, hooters, hot-but-not-beautiful tatooed types. Intelligence is simply in the face, and eyes, and announces itself to the world.
My theory is that no matter the moral shaming, people expect others to fit easy stereotypes, so they won't look deeply enough to see the intelligence if you don't ping their suspicions.
That being said, I don't recommend trying 'Joe Sixpack' unless you are highly-intelligent and struggling with women. Gaming the vastly-less intelligent requires the ability to juggle at least two mental abstracts at the same time. When I say, 'less intelligent', I don't see this as a negative value judgement, more just that our minds have different capabilities that can make smooth communication otherwise impossible.
Why are you failing? Questions you could ask yourself:
Are you really that invested in dumb sluts? I don't have a choice, Australian Women from White English backgrounds are, largely, morons. We really got the dregs of England in the gene pool due to the Convict Stock. Travelling in Europe was exciting for me because I could pitch my intelligence much higher than usual and be understood.
Are you physically-intimidating enough to look like you could fuck someone up? This is Dumb Girl Crack, and also makes everyone underestimate your intelligence if you don't have any 'cultured' tells that could be misread as 'gay'.
How are you presenting yourself? Is your presentation too upmarket? Dress down.
Do you look too 'put together' in a way a working-class guy wouldn't? Look like you tried to clean yourself up but don't give a shit about looking too precious. If I wear a tie, I drop the knot, so it looks like I'm not used to wearing one and don't really know how to tie it (even more of a necessity now with the big neck). Maybe I'll wear black work boots instead of dress shoes because "They're close enough." Get the idea?
Do you speak too quickly? Slow down.
Do you say too much? Ask her leading questions so she does most of the talking.
Are your ideas too complex? Simplify.
Does your spoken pitch remain fairly even, or is the variance great? Is it rising and falling - known as complex tones - within a word? Listen to Quintus Curtius' podcast sometime: note even though he's obviously deeply-intelligent, how steady and masculine his tone is, whereas many young millennial guys have picked up female speech traits, particularly uptalk, and rising pitch when excited. These are tells of education and the privilege of having little experience with violence. QC's steady tone is telling of
familiarity with conflict.
Practice these four expressions with your eyes in the mirror.
- The Proud King surveying his throne room
- Steady, slightly-aggressive gaze like you're sizing up a meal
- The complete absence of complex thought = Unreadable emotions = girl crack
- Cheeky grin with the mouth / 'I'll fuck your shit up' eyes
It's not enough to 'act' these, you have to be
feeling the emotions as you do it. Pull them out as needed.
Linguistically, you're on your own. You have to know your market. It's basically learning to speak the language of class reality.
What you see here in my writing - the complex, run on sentences; the deep thought; the fussy, verbose Victorianism; the clarifying adjectives; the ornate vocabulary - is evident in my day to day speech. What you're seeing here is my uncontrolled, real self.
Day to day though,
to survive, being +3 SD above average intelligence?
- Middle syllables are swallowed: Camera = Camra, Beautiful = Bewdful, Different = Diffrent.
- 'I' is sounded as an 'oi' sound within words in certain instances: Time becomes 'toime', Pizza is 'poizza'.
- 'Er' sounds become 'ah' in certain instances: Poofter = Pooftah; Subwoofer = Subwoofah; Runner = Runnah.
It's all performance that I can turn on and off as needed, depending on the audience.
If I was being fussy with the Wine and Cheese set - note I didn't say Woine - I might say 'How are you doing today?' or 'What are your plans for the weekend.'
In Bogan (think Redneck) Speak, this becomes
"'ow ya garn, mate? What ya up ta Sat'dee?"
If an educated friend had just been visibly-knocked back by a girl, what might be "She left quickly. What on earth did you say that offended her?" becomes this, in Bogan Speak:
"Fark, whatdya say ya mad cunt? That mole was off like a Dapto dog."
Something like:
"I'd love a beer, please. I'm very thirsty"
becomes
"Giz a fucken tinnie mate, I'm as dry as a nun's cunt."
As such,
If I spun a yarn with youse cunts the way I do down the pub, you probably wouldn't make a lot of sense out of it:
Quote:"So I'm down me local late last Fri'dee. Been tryen to pull this bird for coupla hours. Thinken I'm in there and she's ready ta back up on it but when I put the hard word on her she arcs right up n gets shirty with me then pisses right off.
So I'm toey and busten for a slash, so head off to the dunny but I end up standin there for fucken yonks with an angry pissfat, ya know how it goes.
So im standen there tryen to get the bugger to go down n the fucken door BANGS open. Woulda heard it down Sydnee way mate, I tell ya. Scares the fuck outta me so I turn 'round and its this old mole of a cleanah, and she cops an eyeful of me mungrel.
Doesn't. fucken. bat. an. eyelid. Just goes 'Ah, sorry darl. Thought it were empty this toime a noight.'
I go 'nah no worries luv. Only be a tick.'
The mole gives me this dirty grin and goes... she just goes... 'Well let me know if ya need me ta help ya knock the top off of it,' and shuts the door.
I tell ya, I just about pissed meself laughen cause oim thinken if Old Mate were here, he'd be given me the elbow and sayen 'garn Bosch. Nevah let a chance go boi ol' son. So wot if shes fucken rotten enuff that she makes ya spew when ya on the job, ay? She got a fucken mop, don't she?'"
Sometimes my persona will slip in polite company, and I'll fire off a 'cunt' where it's obviously not required, or it will slip into my writing by accident. Doesn't seem to happen the other way around. (Note how I swallowed the 'it' there? That a common tell of me being caught in-between worlds).
I know what you're thinking: sounds like a fuckload of work (slipping again). This is the reality of being such a highly-intelligent man in a country where intelligence is despised and wanting a healthy sex and social life, because otherwise I'd read as somewhere between 'weird to insane' to roughly 83% of the population. Even as a kid, the other children would say "You talk funny" whenever I opened my mouth, which meant social exclusion. In my neighbourhood, you needed the protection of the group to survive, because a child alone was a target. I simply adapted.
To be honest, I see high intelligence as being largely-useless in Australia, and a huge social handicap. The snobs may sneer at the working classes, but underneath their violent and feral tendencies, they're good people, whose dysfunction is far more understandable and healthier than anyone I've interacted with from the upper classes.