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The young man showered himself with the ladies daily. Oh, how sweet this life seemed! But how sour its effects were! He felt hollow… as if he wasn’t true to something. And then, a Voice swelled up inside him.
VOICE: “Pestilence! You cannot keep me caged forever!”
“What are you, cruel voice? Your words are like daggers in my heart.”
VOICE: “Then you are not valiant, for you fear the pointed tip like a soft worm. I am you, your inner self, your own imagination, and… if you like… soul. By caging me, your successes with women will spike with increasing frustration.”
“What! You are the one that is spreading this EMPTINESS through my body like a virus?”
VOICE: “You craven dismal-dreaming miscreant! You know you are now getting what you desired: women. So why are you so unhappy?”
“Oh Voice, most cruel and foul. You are the rudeliest welcome to this world. My answer is, because I haven’t found the right one…”
VOICE: No, you wimpled beef-witted wagtail! You have divided your emotions from yourself, your imagination from reality, your true personality from the universe.
“But I had to change because I wasn’t getting the women!”
VOICE: “And you failed because by keeping me caged, you limit yourself.”
“I act only in accordance to what women want.”
VOICE: But women want you to live in your own world, to stop bending over to be spanked (and not in the good way), a willy billy translating into a tampon that every woman uses for her needs (emotional, physical, social, etc.). You are the equivalent of the woman doing whatever to please the men. Yes, the girl that is the smokehouse where every man does place his meat. You are the Magical Tampon where every woman does place in her…”
“Oh you are a crusty botch of Nature!”
“All the things women want… confidence… humor… spontaneous… fun… These are all qualities of a MAN living out his imagination. Embrace your dreams! Stop trying to be ‘perfect’ in woman’s eyes for you’ll wrong the truest commandment with sexuality: Do not bore women. And…”
“Unite Dream and Day”
“Goodly youth, you have gotten a letter.”
The youth was excited. “A letter? For ME?” He hurried to rip it open. “Who is it from?”
And the youth did. He looked at Pook. “The address says the letter came from Womaniverse!”
“Indeed! Like a heaven over us, the ladies in Womaniverse watch us over. Yes, they always notice you. They look at your life and reward the men of the world with the feminine element.”
“But not all men get the same type?”
“Oh, no! Some get virgin material while the fools get common ore.”
“What else can you tell me of this ‘feminine element’?”
“It is highly relaxing, very ornamental in sports cars, explodes and freezes for no reason, and reacts well to gold, platinum, or any of the precious metals. It also turns green when placed near superior specimens.”
“What are you saying, Pook? That how we are the rock in their world, that they are the rock, an element of ballast for us in this universe?”
“Oh, silly youth! These thoughts are too feathery and fluff at nothingness in your dimension. Don’t think of it, only read the letter.”
“Do the women write to us men, often?”
“Rarely. Usually, women speak in womanese so we men don’t hear anything anyway. But, being a dutiful Pook, an emissary myself, I have translated the letter to masculine terms.”
“Thank heavens! Now I see why it’s in 19th century style!”
“Just read the letter.”
The youth held up the letter and read.
Do not be ungrateful to the women. They surprised you, perhaps shocked you, but they also prepared unexpected triumphs for you as author. Among these successes will be the control and direction you place on your own life and destiny.
But, alas, this will not be the fate for most. Indeed, for many of you, you remove one kingly focus only to place another error in its place! Instead of abolishing the throne, you just throw new ‘systems’ and ‘techniques’ on it! This is the cycle of chumpdom!
Yet, there is good reason to say that the ways of Nature are as infallible as they are inscrutable. For if you will just grant us a moment (what we shall very soon try to demonstrate through our messenger, Monsieur La Pook), we will show you a revolutionary revolution. The throne that kept controlling your life in some way, in some fashion, will finally be shattered, no matter what ‘system’ you place on it.
Your fellow nobles, all ambitious with dagger eyes, will try to place themselves on this throne of your world, to get you to live in their world. They will crown themselves with your dreams and say, “Look at me! I am the object and axis of your world. My whims become your laws. What you enjoy today, including your tastes in food, women, and cars, will be dictated by me. I alone will frame the world you live.”
Oh, you pitiful youth! There you go, bowing down, letting people control you. But locked within you is a promethean fire just waiting to unleash, phoenix like, a sexual combustion of soul and desire whose ingredients of dreams and thoughts lay ready and abundant within you. All you must do is combine these ingredients, combine your thought and action, your dream and day, and watch that throne be swept away.
“Oh, Pook! How strange these women be!”
“Indeed! One of the biggest surprises of my transformations into Don Juan was not that the older women noticing the difference, no, it was that they said, ‘It is like you have grown up.’”
“Why did they say that, Pook?”
“Because it was the truth. Why do you let people mold and shape your life? Your life is going in circles because you cannot tear yourself from your loser friends or stupid entertainment. Keep reading the letter.”
The difference between a Don Juan and a chump is the difference between a Man and a child. Make no mistake, the Don Juan world and the chump world are as different as heaven is to hell.
You see, sir, there was a time when this was known. Men strived and created a world of their own. They took what they wanted and asked questions later. They had designs on what they wanted to do in life and how to get there.
What we women despise the most is the broken male. It is the drifter, the Nice Guy, the chump who, when the focus of your energies is misplaced, production and energy are wasted and undone. Years of your life can pass by in this tragic manner.
Or worse, when the focus becomes seen as something that it is not, the male becomes the Nice Guy, just as a dog becomes a sheepdog, provided Nature does not guide it to freedom.
The life of a Man is not to be coddled and guided. All men are called to be leaders, even if it is not to guide other men you are meant to guide your own household, protect it, and keep your wife and children from the paths of error, defending your fruits of Nature from the locusts and storms of Time.
The youth put down the letter. “How odd and strange this note is!”
Pook smiled. “If one day, you actually get the chance to enter Womaniverse, you’ll be even more amazed.”
“And the key to get to Womaniverse?”
“…is to unite your Dream and Day. It is the only way.”