ALSO BY NEIL STRAUSS The Long Hard Road Out of Hell WITH MARILYN MANSON The Dirt THE GAME PENETRATING THE SECRET SOC. Neil Strauss (Style) - The Game (Complete E-book) - Ebook download as PDF File .pdf), Text File .txt) or read book online. Neil Strauss - Rules of the aracer.mobi - Ebook download as PDF File .pdf) or read book online.
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aracer.mobi - Ebook download as PDF File .pdf), Text File .txt) or view Mystery had his own specific goal. you can't be Neil Strauss. the war's over. MicroSummary: “The Game: Penetrating the Secret Society of Pick-Up Artists” is transformational journalist Neil Strauss' effort to get you. I have an analysis of Neil Strauss interview against a very aggressive host. Check it out here: Dominant Women: Neil.
And Jeffries is not the only proof of this. Because, while he did patent the style, Steve P. In the end, girls paid Steve P. After all, the guys guaranteed them an orgasm through hypnosis! Because, mind you, he has mastered the sociological ones. Obviously, it starts with you finding a girl you like to have sex with. Then, you make the move to meet her, presenting yourself as an alpha male both to her and her group of loyal girlfriends.
Of course, memorable lines and jokes are on the menu at this stage, but, less obviously, subtle insults and negs as well. Which, in the preparation for the final stage, you actually do give her, by separating her from the group and entertaining her for a while. Three indications long! A touch, a squeeze, a romantic gesture, a seductive smile — any three would do! This is the perfect time for the closure: It was through Mystery that Neil Strauss entered the underground seduction scene.
He signed up for a workshop organized by him, and went from there to learning all the tips and tricks there are to know to becoming a PUG with a technique of his own.
The first step is a staple in the business: In other words, for a long period of time, you mainly ask and listen. Finally, the fourth step, is the physical part: And you can see how this can grow into a problem! He began to fidget. He sat in a cheap black plastic chair. Ten minutes. I looked. I can do something about it. She looked at him with feigned sympathy as he continued.
When we arrived. She was surprisingly cute for a clinic like this. All she needed to figure out was whether he required medication or institutionalization. I just can't.
Every rule. The case was probably already closed for her. She was a slim Asian woman in her late twenties. Every word. Mystery slumped in a chair across from her. As Mystery reached for the package. To her. I ran north to Fountain Avenue. The therapist sat behind a desk. A flicker of animation flashed across Mystery's face. He froze and stared at her silently.
How could she? But this sobbing giant with the crumpled tissue in his hands was the greatest pickup artist in the world. I'd met scores of the self-. He stared glumly at the floor as he spoke. Another place. Every step. That was not a matter of opinion. There was only one person alive who could possibly compete with him.
We had pulled off spectacular pickups before the disbelieving eyes of our students and disciples in Los Angeles. From a formless lump of nerd. New York. It was his hobby. And now we were in a madhouse. And that man was sitting in front of her also. Mystery had molded me into a superstar. I have indentations on either side of my forehead. Style became more popular than I ever was— especially with women. In fact. This is because my personality has completely changed.
My nose is too large for my face and. In my opinion. Though I am not bald. I was happy with myself and my life. There are just wispy Rogaineenhanced growths covering the top of my head like tumbleweeds. The call was from Jeremie Ruby-Strauss no relation. That is. You may notice that I haven't mentioned my personality. I completely changed my personality. It was never my intention to change my personality or walk through the world under an assumed identity.
I have ever come across. All I have is my mind. When I look down at my pale. I'm not the kind of guy women giggle over at a bar or want to take home when they're feeling drunk and crazy. I invented Style. I can't offer them a piece of my fame and bragging rights like a rock star or cocaine and a mansion like so many other men in Los Angeles. And in the course of two years. I wonder why any woman would want to sleep next to it. I am shorter than I'd like to be and so skinny that I look malnourished to most people.
I told him it wouldn't hurt to take a look at it. I consider myself reasonably intuitive. Compressed into sizzling pages. I have one major regret. I probably started off worse than most men. When I first met Hugh Hefner. The information needed to be rewritten and organized into a coherent how-to book.
I am a deep man—I reread James Joyce's Ulysses every three years for fun. But I can't seem to evolve to the next state of being because I spend far too much time thinking about women. Crime and Punishment. When does it stop? If Hugh Hefner isn't over it yet. I wasn't so sure. I want to write literature. And how. More than any other book or document—be it the Bible. And not necessarily because of the information in it. I spent most of teenage life grounded.
It is simply that I didn't fool around with enough girls. The moment I started reading. And I know I'm not alone. I am at the core a good person. If he ever wanted to sleep with somebody else. In my preteen years. He had slept with over a thousand of the most beautiful women in the world. So what I gathered from the conversation was that here was a guy who's had all the sex he wanted his whole life and. When I look back on my teenage years. If the lay guide had never crossed my path.
In college I began to find myself: It was that the few times I did get lucky.
Dustin was what they call a natural. The problem wasn't that I'd never been laid. I gained access to a privileged world where no rules applied: I went on the road with Marilyn Manson and Motley Crue to write books with them. Dustin repeated this seemingly miraculous feat four times that night.
As we checked our coats. In all that time. But he did possess one quality we didn't: He attracted women. The girl followed him—straight to a dark corner. Some guys had it. A new world opened up before my eyes. I grilled him for hours. I'd turn a one-night stand into a two-year stand because I didn't know when it was going to happen again. I didn't get so much as a single kiss from anyone except Tommy Lee.
Not like Dustin. He had lost his virginity. But I never became comfortable around women: They intimidated me. I clearly didn't. I was unimpressed. Dustin wasn't any taller. I met Dustin the year I graduated from college. In four years of college. The layguide had an acronym for people like me: AFC—average frustrated chump. That night. Dustin asked. I pretty much gave up hope. I was an AFC. He was short and swarthy with long curly brown hair and a cheesy button-down gigolo shirt with too many buttons undone.
I raised my eyebrows skeptically. After that. After school I took a job at the New York Times as a cultural reporter. When Marko first introduced me to him. Minutes after entering the bar. When they finished kissing and groping. Dustin walked away. Without a word. I did not sleep with a single woman on campus.
He was friends with a classmate of mine named Marko. That was Dustin's gift. When a sultry brown-haired.
And each self-proclaimed pickup artist had his own set of rules. There was Mystery. What I discovered was an entire community filled with Dustins—men who claimed to have found the combination to unlock a woman's heart and legs—along with thousands of others like myself. I found one for him.
One night. Dustin suggested going back to my place to cook a late-night snack. After a few drinks. I got the guilt. When Dustin started kissing her left cheek. David DeAngelo. Or at least that's what I thought. Dustin had a natural charm and animal instinct that I just didn't.
I took him to a party on a boat anchored in New York's Hudson River. That's how it always worked with Dustin: He got the girl. I chalked this up to a simple difference of personality. He turned to me and asked if I had a condom. When she walked past again. The difference was that these men had broken down their methods to a specific set of rules that anybody could apply. He pulled off her pants and moved into her while I continued lapping uselessly at her right breast.
Though I was surprised by Paula's quiet compliance. Rick H. Her boyfriend was taking their dog for a walk. I stammered out a few words. Ross Jeffries. We met her and her boyfriend at a bar afterward. I was afraid he'd try to make me talk to her. She wanted to talk about the experience all the time.
They had just moved in together. Paula called me constantly. Terms like AFC. Once I discovered their world. The answers. Put them on South Beach in Miami and any number of better-looking. Then my daily rituals changed as I became addicted to the online locker room these pickup artists had created.
PUA pickup artist. I made it my mission—my full-time job and obsession—to hunt down the greatest pickup artists in the world and beg for shelter under their wings. But put them in a Starbucks or Whiskey Bar. And so began the strangest two years of my life. I had to meet the faces behind the screen names. A glossary has been provided on page with detailed explanations of these and other terms used by the seduction community.
Talking to guys online was not going to be enough to change a lifetime of failure. In the guise of Jeremie Ruby-Strauss and the Internet. I sat down at my computer and posted my questions of the night on the newsgroups. David X. There were cults of wanna-be seductionists in dozens of cities—from Los Angeles to London to Zagreb to Bombay—who met weekly in what they called lairs to discuss tactics and strategies before going out en masse to meet women.
Soon I realized this was not just an Internet phenomenon but a way of life. But I couldn't do it on my own. It wasn't too late to be Dustin. God had given me a second chance. Whenever I returned home from meeting or going out with a woman.
Vnssar College. But I had dedicated the last four days to getting ready for it anywaydownloading two hundred dollars worth of clothing at Fred Segal. He was the most worshipped pickup artist in the community. This includes club entry. His nights out seducing models and strippers in his hometown of Toronto were chronicled in intimate detail online.
October It is. It was not the proudest moment of my life. It is no easy feat to sign up for a workshop dedicated to picking up women. To do so is to acknowledge defeat. For four years. His name. I withdrew five hundred dollars from the bank. I wanted to look my best.
By the end of Basic Training. Mystery is now producing Basic Training workshops in several cities around the world.
The first workshop will be in LosAnge lesfrom Wednesday evening. So I kept my intentions secret. This was. Mystery and the other students would be there to bear witness to my shame. If anyone—friends. I still had my own conscience to deal with. I planned to just say I was a writer and leave it at that. I wanted to move through this subculture anonymously.
Half of life then was out of order. So if drug addicts go to rehab and the violent go to anger management class.
I would have to keep these two worlds separate. If pressed. I didn't tell him my last name or my occupation. A man has two primary drives in early adulthood: And unfortunately— as opposed to. Those who ask for help are often those who have failed to do something for themselves. To go before them was to stand up as a man and admit that I was only half a man. In my e-mail to Mystery. Clicking send on my e-mail to Mystery was one of the hardest things I'd ever done.
I walked into the lobby of the Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel.
They were another class of being: They had the magic pill. I wore a blue wool sweater that was so soft and thin it looked like cotton. My pockets bulged with the supplies Mystery had instructed every student to bring: I-just-bench-pressed-the-world smile on his face. They were already assessing me.
I spotted Mystery instantly. He wasn't necessarily attractive. I was the first student to arrive. I looked at them in wonder: These were the pickup artists whose exploits I'd been following so avidly online for months. He wore a form-fitting black crew neck shirt. He was seated regally in a Victorian armchair. Sin ranked in the sixties. Next to him was a shorter.
Mystery in the hundreds.
He wore a casual. A week after sending the e-mail. He had the complexion. He looked like a computer geek who'd been bitten by a vampire and was midway through his transformation.
I was attending a significant event. I wanted to make sure every word etched itself on my cerebral cortex. I grew up pretty sheltered. In the folder was a spectacular array of beautiful women: There was Mitzelle.
A second student arrived. You must not do what everyone else does. But I've had three girlfriends. As we waited for the other students. These were his credentials.
He was a tall. When Sin asked him what his count was. Alex Portaoy.
My parents were really strict Catholics. With the right haircut and outfit. But today marked the first time seduction students would be removed from the safe environs of the seminar room and let loose in clubs to be critiqued as they ran game on unsuspecting women. Mystery threw a manila envelope full of photographs in my lap. There was Claire. Penthouse Pet of the Year. Extramask scratched his head uncomfortably. Yet the moment he opened his mouth to give Sin his score five. It's uncomfortable.
It is not real.
Extramask shook his head sadly. I remember her walking over to my house the next afternoon with her friend. He leaned in close. The three of us were the only students in the workshop. He reeked of money and confidence. Every time you do an approach. Think of tonight as a video game. The thought of trying to start a conversation with a woman I didn't know petrified me.
His voice trembled. I saw her across the street. It's not part of the equation. The next arrival was a tanned.
Bungee jumping and parachuting were a Cakewalk compared to this. When I got closer. You will feel shy sometimes. He was new to the community and reluctant to share even his first name. He had a ten-thousand-dollar Rolex. His appearance. Extramask and Sweater seemed just as nervous as I was.
It was hard to tell whether he was consciously being funny or not. Neither compliment nor insult. Women of beauty are rarely found alone.
Everything about him seemed to be a conscious. He spoke in a loud. Mystery told us about what he called group theory. Believe it or not. It took him dozens of trips to the city before he even worked up the guts to talk to a stranger. In the process. Since the age of eleven. At the age of twenty-one. That is not the perfect seduction. He wasn't aware of the online community or any other pickup artists.
From there. Mystery's goal in life was to become a celebrity magician.
He spent years studying and practicing. So get ready to fail. A lot of people don't know that. If the target is attractive and used to men fawning all over her. This is accomplished through the use of what he called a neg. The purpose of a neg is to lower. I am going to prove myself. As Mystery dissected the alpha male further. We were also clueless. Tonight is the night of experiments. And by smiling. You are going to see a difference. So what I'm going to ask is that you indulge in some of my suggestions and try new things over the next four days.
What else? As soon as you walk in a club. I realized something: The reason I was here—the reason Sweater and Extramask were also here—was that our parents and our friends had failed us.
They had never given us the. I only alienate the girls I want to fuck. I don't alienate guys. It's called the Mystery Method because I'm Mystery and it's my method. You are going to watch me and then we are going to push you to try a few sets. No one bothered to tell Mystery that those were actually six characteristics. Not true. An opener is a prepared script used to start a conversation with a group of strangers. She needs to be smart enough to hold up her end of any conversation and have enough style and beauty to turn heads when she walks into a room.
They're not for clubs.
This was a guy who thought about seduction nonstop. Mystery had a laundry list of fixes: The archive of his Internet messages was 3. You have to specialize. You need to be bigger than life. I wrote down every word of advice. People think if they look generic. Your khaki pants are for the office. And your sweater—burn it. Sweater pulled a piece of neatly folded notebook paper out of his pocket. He signed up for a workshop organized by him, and went from there to learning all the tips and tricks there are to know to becoming a PUG with a technique of his own.
The first step is a staple in the business : a great opening line. In other words, for a long period of time, you mainly ask and listen. Finally, the fourth step, is the physical part: consuming the relationship. And you can see how this can grow into a problem! And acquiring enough skill may get you in the heart — or, rather, pants! Including Britney Spears. Neil Strauss used his technique on her and got her phone number!
And routine means repeating. And, as Neil Strauss found out, the more PUGs there are results in less girls for themselves as well.
He found this the hard way: he tried creating the Hollywood Project, a shared living space for PUGs where girls would come because of their reputation. Quite a few betrayals afterward, it had to be disbanded. Not with love. By the way, did we mention that Neil Strauss, a treated sex addict, is currently a married father?
Like this summary? Click To Tweet If there was anything I'd learned, it's that the man never chooses the woman. All he can do is give her an opportunity to choose him.