To My Future Son: Don’t Have a Career

10 Feb

They tell you, and I don’t know who “they” is because frankly nobody ever told me this but I somehow got the impression anyway—they tell you to get a job and have a career and make money and women will be attracted to you.  “Men like looks,” they say.  “Women like success.” It’s a common countercomplaint when feminists accuse men of objectifying women; the guy will say back “well, you women better stop objectifying my wallet, amirite?” The “take my wife, please!” of antifeminist arguments.

So you go out and get a job.  You try to get into a good college and you study and you intern and you get a toe in the water of some status-y “career” field and you get up early and you stay late and you read work-related material after work and you network with work-related work jerkoffs and you suffer under some cruel old work prick who believes himself better than other human beings because of his work in some lofty status-y career field and you work and you work and you work and you work.  And part of what drives this is the dread instilled in you when you read that in 2020 to put a kid through college will cost sixteen billion dollars and Social Security will have dried up and you better be sitting on a cash hoard of ten million billion trillion dollars conservatively invested because health care costs will have reached the level where only a class of feudal overlords can afford a tongue depressor. And there will be no “safety net;” there is literally nobody who believes programs like Social Security and Medicare will still exist in our financially post-apocalyptic future.  We all know we are headed toward a Randian thunderdome where our old age will be spent guarding a 55 gallon drum of drinking water with a shotgun and removing our own tumors with steak knives.  If you don’t want this to happen, you better sink a bunch of borrowed money into school, and then work. And you better not spend whatever pittance is left of the 22 grand your post-college job earns you on fun; you better save and invest, according to the 401k presentation the commissioned salesperson who gets a small piece of what they withhold from your meager check tells you, because if you don’t, at age 23, begin taking advantage of logarithmic growth to accrue a massive privately-invested nest egg, you will be cannibalized by gangs of cyborg Hottentots, and your bones picked clean. And your children.  And your children’s children.

So there’s that, but there’s also the idea that desirable women want to end up with a guy who has a good job. Which in life just translates into the fear of having nothing good to say when a chick asks you “so, what do you do?” You burn eleven to thirteen of your sixteen waking hours per day of your precious fucking youth being crushed and unmanned because you’re afraid of what will happen when a chick asks “so what do you do.”

And then after a few years of this you begin to notice that the “desirable” women– hot, interesting women– are actress/ waitresses whom you don’t even encounter in your day to day life except when they’re telling you that someone will be around soon with the rolls and lightly pressing their palm on your collarbone when presenting the check to ensure a larger tip.  The girls who play guitar and read books and have big eyes and small noses are working the exact few hours you are not working, for cash that they spend after their shift on coke they will use to fuel unprotected sex with fellow restaurant staff in a walk-in freezer.

And the guys who got the “cool” jobs thinking they were going to have tons of pussy beating down the door get nothing.  This is why investment bankers send long butthurt screeds to girls who don’t want a second date.  This is why every single person I know who is in an actual relationship is partially employed as a barista or living off mom and dad while playing in a band.  Everybody whom I know through work is a desperate lonely miserable shell of a person.

You get a career-type job, you have guaranteed yourself the kind of life where you will never be around attractive women, ever.  You will only be surrounded by packs of fellow striving, desperate men; their joyless unlaid attitudes will become contagious to you and not only will it become logistically impossible to get laid, it will become impossible in your soul for any conversation with a woman to be anything other than a venal transaction transparently trying to fill a sad hole in your life.

So, fuck this shit.  I’m gonna be a farmer.

7 Responses to “To My Future Son: Don’t Have a Career”

  1. pffffffftttsssssssiimmbllllllddddddnnnnnnnnn June 30, 2012 at 8:14 am #

    Social Security, Medicare, universal healthcare – these are not the unsustainable problems. A gigantic military industrial complex, pointless wars, corporate welfare, wall street speculation, tax cuts for fucking billionares and millionares so they can ship more jobs overseas, which, get the fuck out. You want to move your production to China, then go the fuck over there with it. “oh, Americans won’t do those jobs.” They fucking will if you pay them a decent wage. Now they’re breaking the unions while Obama stands there with his hands in his pockets, they won’t be happy till they completely destroy the middle class. You got Obama pandering to fucking immigrants – another reason for massive debt. Part of it’s the left’s fault, cheering on the legal and illegal massive immigration into the US, especially in the past 20 years. They always want to quote that fucking inscription on the Statue of Liberty, “give us your tired, your poor, blah blah blah” Guess what? That was written by a fucking Jew poet who was specifically payed (big surprise, since most Jews pledge allegiance to nothing but money) to write some profound shit about immigration. Stop acting like George Washington wrote the fucking thing. And our families came here at a time when the country needed them. Keep hiring immigrant fucking scabs, so American kids can sell oxycontins for a living with their universal healthcare and join gangs.

    Then you got the right with their point, Supposedly it’s going to harm US business too much to get rid of all the immigrant scabs, legal and illegal. Well, get the fuck out then, and take the immigrants with you. Go move to fucking Mexico with your business, instead of exploiting the US as a base of operation. Look, man, just get the fuck out. Go overseas. Go Offshore. Move your damn business to a foreign country. What good is a business in the US that isn’t even hiring Americans anyway? These businesses are nothing but parasites in our country. If all a business can do in our country is just be a parasite, then just move your damn operation offshore and get the Hell out of the country.

    And now we got these fucking idiots drinking crazy uncle Ron’s kool-aid. With all their ivory tower libertarian bullshit. Which makes sense since this is the most selfish fucking generation in the history of civilization. It’s all me me me me me. I did everything myself, raised in my upper-middle class neighborhood, by doting parents who made sure I did my homework every night and filled out my college applications. I’m a self-made man
    Fuck outta here.

    Point is, if we just focused on the shit that hard-working actual citizens of the US want and need, and less time convincing them to vote against their best interests (republicans, libertarians), and stopped pandering to the fucking special interest groups who influence the political process, things would be fine. Or a lot better than they are.

  2. anarchyraliv August 12, 2012 at 2:28 pm #

    lmao this blog is a fucking goldmine. been reading for 2 hours now from Roosh’s link. oh god my sides

  3. Chuck Groin Punch September 15, 2012 at 12:25 am #

    I know this was posted months ago, but after reading your post on getting fired from your job, I can only (once again) welcome you back to the world of people who are actually alive. It really is better here.

  4. Anonymous April 1, 2014 at 6:09 pm #

    I love you. Never stop.

  5. Anonymous May 17, 2018 at 4:32 pm #

    This is true, I’m living it. It’s a fucking good read, thanks Tacos.


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