How to Date a Woman and Why I Love America


Young men are confused nowadays because even this kind of talk is politically incorrect. I am talking about talks on how to please women and influence their decision to do this or that. I am an experienced man from another era when men knew what they were doing and the women appreciated it. So, here is some guidance based on a recent dating experience I had.

First thing first: Women don’t primarily want love or riches or wondrous sex (though neither one or the others hurt).

They want to be entertained, endlessly.

Women want to be amazed by unfamiliar objects but within a context where they feel safe. so, I took my date to a print shop. She had never been to one. I checked the progress of a new poster for my book (“I Used to Be French: an Immature Autobiography.”) She thought that was very, very nice. A…

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Around the Web

  1. The Egyptian Coup and Political Islam: Daniel Larison takes neoconservative David Brooks to task for supporting the coup and explains why the coup will only empower Islamism. Highly recommended.
  2. In which countries is ‘crude libertarianism’ most and least true? Tyler Cowen dared to ask the question, but it is his ‘comments’ section (which I am extremely jealous of) that is truly worth reading through. Grab a cup of coffee.
  3. This is why I love Murray Rothbard.
  4. Lies, Slander and Corey Robin. Philosopher Kevin Vallier explains, in depth, the Leftist penchant for dishonesty. Imagine if an associate professor (a young professor without tenure) with a libertarian or a conservative bent wrote something about Rawls or Keynes that was as fact-free and fallacious as the piece Robin wrote about Hayek. Don’t condemn. Don’t get angry. Just imagine.
  5. I’ve been listening to a lot of Sonic Youth lately (you can Google ’em yourself!).

Patriotism, the Last Refuge of Scoundrels

I have Obama ennui and petroleum fatigue so, here is a story.

In spite of its title, this story is largely about feces so, if you have a weak stomach, stop right here. It’s also about my war, stretching over several years, against raccoons.

I live close to downtown on a parcel that includes four bearing fruit trees. This ought to make me gloriously happy because I was reared in a big city where I always longed for the countryside. Now, for me, on a small scale, the old wish that cities ought to be built in the countryside has come true. The problem is that a tribe of impudent raccoons lives nearby on an untended cliff. For half the year, one or another of my trees is bearing fruits and the raccoons make nightly visits, singly or in groups. Generally, that would be OK with me: Share and share alike, I say. However, raccoons apparently feel the need to defecate soon after they eat, nearly always on my property, in this case. In fact, they are so regular (so to speak), that they always do it on the roof of a low shed adjacent to a lovely small sun-deck. I spent significant money two years ago to build a grape arbor above the sun-deck. I had visions of myself writing outdoors and lazily reaching up for my own dangling grapes.

In the past, I have won indecisive victories with a b.b. gun used at close range. I say indecisive because, one particularly ornery old mama I had shot in the ass several time retaliated by leaving a turd right plum in the middle of my bathroom’s skylight. Continue reading