DM: Hi, everyone, welcome to my new show, “Dave’s Court Mandated Psychotherapy Sessions”, where I interview people that exist only in my head. My guest this week is Intrigue, legendary pick-up artist. Mr. Intrigue, thank you for being here. Can I assume that designation to be some sort of nom de guerre?
Intrigue: It’s my PUA name. It confuses women right from the start, makes them wonder and throws them off-balance. You want to move their mental weight line outside of their feet.
DM: Like jiu-jitsu.
DM: Okay. So tell my readers a little bit about yourself. Were you always good at picking up women?
Intrigue: No way man. I used to be a loser nice guy. Always opening the door for women, paid for their drinks, you name it. But all that effort and money, I got no sex, no blow jobs, barely a handy to show for my niceness. I was a virgin until I was 22. That’s when I started reading about pick-up artists and how the real secret to get in a girls pants is NOT to be nice. Women don’t want some pushover that’s gonna treat them well all the time.
DM: I see. So you started studying these techniques in order to make yourself better with women? Not to put too fine a point on it, but to immediately get them into bed?
Intrigue: That’s right. You have to have goals. Playing the game on their terms is for suckers. You need to go into that bar or club or whatever knowing you’re gonna get laid, and just decide which girl is gonna be lucky enough to be the one.
DM: And these techniques have been successful for you?
Intrigue: Absolutely. I get shot down all the time, but that’s not the point. Most nights I go out I go home with somebody, even if I have to work my way around for a bit, I’ll find her eventually. The key is to keep playing and not lose confidence. It’s a numbers game.
DM: Like multi-level marketing.
DM: What would you say to people who describe techniques like “negging” as a deliberately manipulative psychological ploy of very questionable rectitude? Doesn’t it only work by playing off insecurities hammered into the female mind by society, and thus seek to exploit them in a possibly vulnerable area, purely for your own ends?
Intrigue: That’s just what losers say when they can’t get chicks. Does anyone feel sorry about all the drinks I bought only to still be the Governor of Dry-Penis Province at the end of every night? Women take advantage of men all the time, don’t feel bad when I play the game better than them.
DM: I think I understand. So could you tell me then, in just a couple words, what is the point of being a pick-up artist?
Intrigue: What are you, gay?
DM: That’s not a very enlightened comment, but no I’m not. I’m asking seriously what the point is of this?
Intrigue: To get pussy man. Lots and lots of pussy.
DM: So you want to be an individual sovereign nation state, with pussy as your foreign reserve currency.
Intrigue: You’re kind of a weird dude, you know that?
DM: Sorry. Pardon me for asking, but what is the point of all this pussy exactly? I mean, why the obsession with getting so much?
Intrigue: Seriously, are you gay? It’s awesome!
DM: Well I certainly enjoy a rousing copulation session followed up by cuddling and or board games as much as the next man, but… I mean, do you have the internet? Do you suffer from crippling arthritis in your hands? You know Victoria’s Secret will actually send you their catalogues for free.
Intrigue: I’m not some kind of jack-off, dude. That’s who I USED to be. I pull trim now.
DM: So the actual achievement of frequent orgasm isn’t the point? If you admit that there is no emotional connection that the “Pick Up” is based on, then what difference does it make whether it’s your hand or someone’s vagina?
Intrigue: Aren’t you listening? LOSERS jerk off. Winners go out and get laid.
DM: So it’s fair to say that the primary reason one becomes a pick up artist is to create a certain perception of oneself in the minds of others?
Intrigue: Everyone knows I’m a player. Don’t hate.
DM: Interesting. One last question. Do you like James Bond?
DM: You know, James Bond. Movie super spy. Gets all kinds of pussy. You ever see those movies? You like them?
Intrigue: Uh… Sure, I guess.
DM: Can you imagine James Bond reading a book about how to pick up women?
Intrigue: What are you talking about?
DM: I’m being serious. Imagine a scene in a Bond movie where James Bond is on a plane or in a hotel room with a book about how to pick up women. Would that be cool?
Intrigue: What’s your point?
DM: I submit to you, Mr. Intrigue, that it would not be cool. In fact, I would contend that would be the least cool thing that ever happened in a movie franchise where James Bond once got outfitted in full children’s birthday party clown makeup in order to evade the West German police.
Intrigue: What does some stupid movie have to do with anything?
DM: Sadly, everything. You see the most depressing thing about the pick up artist community is not that it’s chauvinistic and seeks to degrade women, although it does. Nor is it that this “technique” is generally quite ineffective, although it is. The most depressing thing about pick up artists is that the entire reason men act like this is not to get women per se, but rather to be seen by others as the type of man who can get women. Having had reinforced for them throughout their lives that cool men can just pick up women, pick up artists seek to become cool by developing the skills that will enable them to do that. That coolness, not the sex itself, is what the PUA community is all about. The problem is that the whole reason it’s cool when movie heroes or pro athletes or rock gods get tons of women is that they don’t try very hard. You can’t imagine James Bond or Indiana Jones or Captain Kirk or any legendary fictional womanizer reading a how to get chicks book because the second you saw that they would instantly stop being cool and instead become pathetic and sad. We don’t admire James Bond because all the chicks he gets make him cool - we admire him because he is so cool that women simply flock to him with seemingly no effort on his part. His coolness precedes, as you would put it, the “pussy”. Unfortunately, no matter how many women you bed, you will never be the cool that you want to be, because you will still have bedded those women by being the kind of gigantic dork that spends all of his free time trying to plot how to manipulate women into sleeping with him. Being a pick up artist is to literally be destined for failure, because your method definitionally precludes your success.
Intrigue: Bullshit, dude! My friends and I are all cool.
DM: Of course you and your friends all think this way. Those are the friends you can get because normal men are embarrassed to be seen in your company. The desperation and insecurity might as well be tattooed on your forehead.
Intrigue: Don’t tell me what’s cool, this is how you get chicks!
DM: Please listen. The most important thing for you to understand is that you are the EXACT same person as you were before you joined the pick up artist community and started getting laid. You still have the same thing to offer to women, which is nothing. Your problem is that you presented yourself as a potential sex partner with no sense of self, no particular ambition beyond a biological drive to get your dick wet, and a very well earned complete lack of self confidence, and when women, shockingly, by and large refused to open their legs for you, you blamed them. Why should they have been interested in you? Then one day someone told you that drunk women with low self esteem will occasionally confuse put-on bravado for self confidence, and you had sex a few times, so now when ladies ashamedly slink out of your apartment before you can wake up and they have to talk to you, you imagine that this is what it means to be a “player”.
Intrigue: Well if you know so much, you tell dudes how to get chicks.
DM: There is no “how to get chicks”. The problem is you. In all things in life, it is a good practice to ask yourself in what way your problems are your own fault. Imagine James Bond was a real person. What differences exist between you and him besides getting women? He’s a secret agent, worldly, skilled in a wide variety of cool spy tricks, he resists torture when captured, he defies orders to do what he thinks is right, he refuses to surrender in the face of impossible odds. He is, in short, a person with an immensely strongly developed sense of self, an internal compass if you will. Now you may not happen to respect James Bond’s internal compass. Many people, including many women, wouldn’t. That’s why if he was real, just as many women would find him repulsive as would want to sleep with him. But he is who he is. It’s consistent regardless of circumstance. You may not be able to count on him to call the next day, but you can count on him to kill the ethnic stereotypes your evil terrorist boss sends to your hotel room to murder you after he discovers you’ve slept with James Bond, and that’s something anyway. Let me put it this way: You cannot “get” women until there is a real “you” for them to give themselves to.
Intrigue: I’m not into all that emotional stuff man, I’m all about hump it and dump it.
DM: Of course you are. You’ve heard every woman in the universe telling you until they’re blue in the face to just “be yourself”, but what you know that they don’t is that there is no yourself for you to be. Patrick Stewart is seventy three years old and bald, and he just got married to a traffic-stoppingly beautiful 35 year old jazz dancer. The reason so many woman would still tear the clothes off of a man old enough to be their grandfather is because Patrick Stewart has spent a half-century doing theater not because he thought it would get him chicks, but because he loved doing it. Sense of self. You don’t love anything in the entire world like that.
Intrigue: (quietly) I’m so afraid… I’m just so lonely…
DM: I know. You are in fact, a great deal like the young ladies you succeed in picking up at bars. Society has bombarded you since childhood with the message that the surface appearance of success has the same value as the internal strength necessary to achieve it. So rather than face the possibility that you will try to change yourself into something more than you are and come up short, you obsess over discovering some trick that will enable you to project success out towards society even when that success is hollow and robbed completely of its meaning by the methods you used to obtain it. Much like the young woman who views being attractive to men as society’s marker of success and will shortcut herself to achieve it by sleeping with a douchebag like you. Chuck Palahniuk was wrong. It’s not the things we own that own us - our fear that we aren’t strong enough to be anything but the things we own is what owns us.
Intrigue: (crying) I hate you. You’re the worst interviewer ever.
DM: I’m sorry. If it makes you feel better a lot of people that aren’t pick up artists have the same problem. Go out and be yourself is the most terrifying advice you can give to a modern American. That impulse was purposely beaten out of us at a very young age by a system that prefers people who seek rewards without effort. People like that are easy to manipulate, you should know, it’s the basis for your whole lifestyle. But you are just as much a prisoner of it as your conquests. You will never be anything that you can be proud of until you start trying to find the things you really love. That process won’t be easy, it will entail failure. Not fake temporary failure like when a girl shuts down your moves in a club, but the real, heart-rending, painful failure of truly giving your all to something and coming up short. The pain of that is incredible. But every truly successful person in every field knows it, without exception. To borrow from William Goldman, not all lives are pain. But all real lives are pain. And not everyone wins in the end. The only consolation I can promise is the peace and quiet within your soul that comes from having fought as hard as you could, for as long as you could, as well as you knew how. Whether that’s enough to make it worth it for you to forego the quicker, easier pleasures society wants you to substitute only you can decide.
Intrigue: (sniffling) Do you at least like my fuzzy top hat?
DM: (consolingly) Yes. There there. Your hat is very nice.