The Red Pill is often chided for the fact that its advocates “hate women,” and devote their lives to unsavory methods of manipulating these creatures that they despise, and see as nothing more than a set of moist holes, into sex. We’re often quick to defend ourselves, making the distinction that attempting to understand women and live life in the manner that benefits us the most is a far cry from hate, but I think we might be a little too quick to distance ourselves from that. Hate is one of the essential steps. Hate is how we get to awesome. If you’ve never hated women, you skipped a step. I’ll explain below.
Let’s take an average guy, Mr. Joe Redpiller. Joe looks okay, has a decent but not great job, has had maybe a few average girlfriends in the past but generally sucks with the ladies, and nowadays can’t get a date to save his life and gets laughed at, shooed away, and even sometimes called a creep when he tries. He’s generally nice, pleasant, doesn’t make waves, has a few friends he’d consider close, and lives kind of a quiet, average life. The large majority of men are like Joe.
Joe isn’t happy. He’s okay. He’s fine. He gets by. But he isn’t happy.
If Joe stays the course over the years, he will probably get a few promotions at work and be able to afford a middle class lifestyle comfortably, find a girlfriend late in life who he eventually marries, face a 50% chance of getting divorced, and even if he doesn’t end up divorced, will probably spend the rest of his days wondering why the hell nobody, not even his wife, respects him when he works so hard and is nice to everyone.
Deep down inside, Joe probably knows that’s his future if he stays on this course. Deep down inside, Joe knows that’s why he isn’t happy. He’s okay. But he’s not happy.
Joe wants to be more than okay. He wants what all men want: he wants women to adore him and men to want to be him. He’s realistic. He knows he’s not the world’s greatest human being, but surely, he thinks to himself, he can do better. Surely, he can at least get a few dates, get laid, have some fun – I mean, if meat-heads from the gym, drug dealers, and frat boys can get laid, why not Joe? He’s a decent looking guy, he treats others well, and he has a good job. He’s a decent prospect, right? But women laugh at Joe. Even the less hot ones. Hell, one time a fat chick poured her drink on him and high fived her friends over it. Women think Joe’s a creep, and he’s not even being aggressive at all. He’s just walking up and trying to talk to women, for cripes sake. The farthest he ever gets is maybe buying a girl a few drinks. She flakes when he asks for her number.
Joe knows he must be doing something wrong, so one day, on a lark, he goes to the internet, and he stumbles across The Red Pill. This is not what Joe was looking for. He wanted a magic trick. Something he could try out that might help break the ice with girls. Instead, he’s reading a story – lots of stories, actually – that sound eerily like his entire life. Everything The Red Pill says men ought to do to be successful with women sounds wrong, stupid, certain to get Joe into heaps of trouble. Yet all of that crazy shit is explained in a way that goes along with everything Joe’s ever experienced.
Joe is cautioned by the entire internet: don’t bother with that red pill crap. It’s just a bunch of made up junk for losers who can’t get laid and hate women. None of it works, and it’s just misogyny disguised as a male support group.
Yes, he's warned, that Red Pill shit doesn't work. Not on real women. Not on the good ones worth dating. Joe's told that if he "becomes an asshole," like The Red Pill advocates, he'll just alienate women and ruin himself. He'll have no chance at a real relationship.
Are there exceptional women out there that The Red Pill won't "work" on? Sure, maybe. But the people who tell Joe this don't understand. Joe has nothing to lose. Because these "good ones worth dating" -- these "real women" -- they weren't dating Joe before. They were laughing at him and calling him a creep, right alongside the rest of women. It's not like Joe is giving anything up if he alienates these "women worth dating" that are "too smart for The Red Pill." It's not like he had a chance at these girls before and now he's blowing it. He never had a shot to begin with.
Undaunted, Joe tries some of this red pill stuff, and lo and behold, our detractors are right. It doesn’t work. People keep right on laughing at Joe. He’s still a creepy loser, just like before. Only now he’s a creepy loser who spends a lot of time at the gym, goes out every weekend and hits on just about anything that moves, and acts like an asshole. And people call him on it.
Joe's furious. At himself, at men, at women, at the universe. Mostly at women, because any person worth breathing ought to be able to see that he's a decent guy. Joe crosses the threshold. He really, really hates women.
Joe goes out for drinks now, not hoping to meet a girl, but just because he feels like a drink. Women are there, and he doesn't care. In fact, he's kind of rude to them. He says and does whatever he feels like -- whatever comes to mind. He pretty much just uses the women there for entertainment. Saying shit and doing shit, treating them like stimuli that just exist to amuse him. Touching a few -- almost daring them to blow him off with his aggressiveness. And these stupid chicks keep bothering him when he's just trying to have a few drinks, maybe with a guy friend or two, or watch whatever's on the bar TV. He doesn't care about them in the slightest. He's just shooting his mouth off and being a general ass. And suddenly one of them is grinding on his cock, smiling at him.
Joe gets laid that night. Easily. Joe gets laid twenty more times. Because hating women enables Joe to really not giving a flying fuck what they think. He just fucks their brains out, gets his rocks off, only bothers keeping the phone numbers of the hottest or kinkiest ones, and spends a few months doing what the old Joe would have classified as mistreating women. And they can't get enough of him.
Once the novelty wears off, Joe starts to see the pattern, he starts to understand, and he cools off a little bit. He doesn't really hate women any more, because he's figured out that they're really not that important. If he wants to get laid, he goes out and gets laid. If not, he does something else. He understands how women work, how the game is played, and he's moved on. But hating them was a crucial step to reach this point.
I suppose if we really want to split hairs, "hate" is kind of a strong word. A guy really just needs to be indifferent about women and stop caring. But in the modern sense, that's really what "hate" is. I mean, you're not going to go out and murder people. Fucking around with them in public, being rude, not caring about them in the slightest, having sex with them and never calling them again -- that's today's version of hate.
The next time someone accuses of you of "hating women," own it. Because they exist for your pleasure. The more you screw around with them, heedless of their feelings, the more they line up to fuck you. Are there special flower women out there who are exceptions to this? Doesn't matter. You have all the sex you can handle. And those special flowers weren't' fucking the old you anyway.