The First Key
Foundations of the Pyramid
The Way the Crumble Cookies
I know exactly what you cocksplats are so eagerly expecting of my teachings.
You want the secret to sneaking that cookie crumble.
Don’t play dumb. You know exactly what I mean. It’s exactly what you think it is.
Every guy wants it. It’s natural. Anyone who says otherwise is a liar, or prefers the Long John Silver, which is exactly the same thing but a perversion. It’s hardwired into our man-malion brains.
Monkey see, monkey wanna do it.
There’s no need to deny, nor to be ashamed of this. That desire, dear reader, is indicative of vril.
What is vril, you ask?
Chi, prana, aether, mana, odic force, orgone, kundalini—fettuccini, my linguini. More words for the same thing. Maybe you simply call it energy (you damn New Age hippie). It is the primary life essence underlying and permeating all of existence.
(I swear to God, if one of you nerds makes a Star Wars reference, so help me…)
We all want to stuff the strudel. We all want to flip it over and spankitopita.
That’s a sign that the spirit still has fire. The man inside still burns, regardless of how dim the light may be. With a little gas, the fire can intensify. Quickly. But if it’s true that the man has no desire, he is, more or less, spiritually dead. The body lives, but is a husk. There is nothing left of the man. He is a eunuch.
What you’ll have to come to terms with is that the secret to women is simple. It’s the simplest thing in the world, and yet, it’s simultaneously the hardest thing to embody. At least until it’s not. I could give you the secret right here, right now, and it wouldn’t matter. You wouldn’t understand it. Even if you did, you wouldn’t be able to make any use of it at this point.
Why?
Because it takes wisdom, and wisdom comes from time and, more importantly, experience.
“B-b-b-but David, I know old people that aren’t wise at all!”
Which one of you fools said that? Maybe you didn’t say it, but you thought it. Allow me to break it down like you have no time or experience.
Imagine, if you will, a man who lives his life on autopilot.
As a child, his parents provide for him. His mommy picks out his nice little booties and makes sure his outfit matches, and makes his lunch which forms his tastes, and his father teaches him to be conscientious, so that he goes to school every day like a good little slave.
As he matures, they gradually take away the training wheels. He picks out his own clothes and his own little booties, and he makes his own lunchies, and school eventually gives way to work. He maybe develops some hobbies and makes friends with some people at school or work, who do and think as he does. He does this for sixty years, all his life’s events swirling into a gray soupy mess he can hardly tell apart, except for a choice few events that made just enough of a mark to scar.
I bet you think this man is independent. I bet you think he thinks for himself. I bet you think he is experienced.
He has lived the same day of his life for most of his life. Does he sound experienced to you? What did he experience exactly?
Inversely, you can have a life of wild variety. Lush life fruits of all shapes and sizes hanging just overhead. Some even fall on your head—and you get angry!
Goddamn those fucking fruits! Can’t they see I want cake!
You stomp the fruit. You ignore the garden around you and single-mindedly resume your crusade for that sweet icing.
Are you getting it now, reader?
(I know you do, dear reader, but not everyone is as smart and amazing and near and dear to my heart as you are. Have a little compassion for the less fortunate, why don’t you?)
Time on its own means little. A rock has more time than you and I and many other humans combined. I’m not asking the rock to share its wisdom. Are you?
Maybe you should. I’m sure the rock at least has a lot to say about what it means to be a rock.
But that old man and the cake fiend?
What do they know about anything? They amble through life mostly—if not completely—unaware. Just like the Matrix-malaised sheepies they are. This is the trap of the Black Cube.
I’ll quit beating around the meat and give you the secret, my dear reader.
The secret to women is to just be yourself.
In fact, that’s the secret to life and to swagger.
Just be, like my dissolution into the creative space.
I told you you wouldn’t get it. Did you think I was lying?
That’s because there are secrets to the secret.
The problem is you’re unaware. Unaware about the secret, about yourself, about your swagger, about your vril. So, we need to make you aware. Now, hold still. I’m gonna grab you by the collar and shake—
Wake up. Wake the fuck up! Wake up, you stupid sack of…
Sike. Tee hee.
You don’t realize you have a superpower, do you? Everyone has it, but they’re all ignorant of it, including you.
That superpower is Attention. Once you are paying it, swagger becomes easy.
The Center of it All
What you see is everything.
Understand this: you are the center of the universe. Everything in your life revolves around you. It happens through you. But if you can’t see that, my words caress deaf and dumb ears.
“The center of the universe? How conceited. Only a selfish bastard would say such a thing! Don’t you know there are other people living on this planet? Don’t you think they matter too?”
Like I said. Deaf and dumb.
This is why I said you wouldn’t get it. Jesus also spoke the truth, and look at what they did to him. I’m pretty grand, but if He couldn’t get through to you sheepies, how could I?
I know! Let’s try an exercise.
Are you ready?
Take a look around. What do you see? Now, that you’ve spotted it, tell me, is it you?
Of course, it’s not.
Imagine if you saw me. I can only imagine how orgasmic it would be if I was someone else, saw David Jagger, and then experienced being him. I would probably feel like I’d stepped into heaven. But alas, no one can ever be me, and I’m not here to tell you lies. I would never do that. I’m here to deliver the truth. Don’t you know how selfless I am?
Part two of our little exercise: take a look inside you.
(Put the mirror away. Get your pants back on, stop spreading your ass cheeks, and stand up straight. I didn’t mean look inside you literally.)
Now, what do you “see”? What thoughts are flitting about that deranged mind of yours? What fee fees have you feeling down on the ground like a clown with a frown?
Go ahead, give them a name. Call those worthless sons of bitches out like the leeches they are.
Do you see what just happened?
Anything you can see—objects, events, your thoughts and feelings, my glorious visage—is not you. You’ve spent most of your life believing it’s you because you are homo imbecillus. It’s time you wise up. It’s time you start paying attention.
Naming things gives you distance. It gives you power. It allows you to separate it from you. It becomes an object or an event, which means it’s something you can either control or something that will pass. Sometimes, it’s a bit of both.
We will call this psychic distance from now on.
When you start paying attention to things, you achieve psychic distance. The reason why you have spent most of your life thinking things that aren’t you are you is precisely because you have not been paying attention. Now that you understand what it means to pay attention, truly, you can determine what not to pay attention to. What to ignore, in more specific terms. In doing so, you start taking an active part in what you are.
“But Davey, this is kind of scary… If anything I observe, anything that can be named isn’t me, then who am I?”
This, dear reader, is the right question. And if I could answer it, then it wouldn’t be you now, would it?
Speed of Life
Yes, yes, I understand.
You’re freaking out a little bit.
You do know the Tower is the card of awakenings, right? Does that card look fun to you?
I know it is for my dear reader and I, but not everyone can be us. We’re a couple freebirds, surfing those floors down to the bottom, baby. Woo!
Regardless, it’s a necessary step on the road to swagger, so you may as well get it over with now. If you’re freaking out, stop paying attention to it. You’ve already named it, now fucking ignore it.
Easier said than done, huh?
I told you. You’re not ready for the secret yet. That’s why we need to work you up to it with the smaller secrets first. Your pyramid needs a strong base. You don’t build the damn thing upside down.
Life comes fast and it hits hard. There are all kinds of ghouls and gals, astral parasites, demons, and (worst of all) the black prison walls of the cube looking to steal your attention for their own ends. When things are moving at the speed of life, it’s easy for them to do that.
You peacocks go to the gym, don’t you? I know you like to puff yourself up for your gym hubbies.
“Whoa, bro. Looking swole! You been hitting glutes lately?”
Yeah, Chester. Your mom’s.
The point I’m trying to make is that the same way you go to train your bodies, you must also do for your attention. Left unexercised, it becomes loose and flabby and splays out every which way.
When you master your attention, psychic distance is easier to achieve. And when you have psychic distance, two things happen:
You regain energy all those vril snatchers were harvesting.
You gain a sense of you.
Both of these are essential to swagger.
The Only Currency That Matters
More vril means greater capacity for swagger.
The more you embody a sense of you, the more swagger achieved.
It’s enough to know this for now.
My friend, I know you want more. You ravenous raven you! But if I don’t stop you here, you’ll only gorge till you’re obese, stuffed so full of information you can’t move. You’ll want to sleep, feeling satisfied that you know it all, even though that would mean you’re David Jagger, and we’ve already established you can’t be me.
And that’s okay (acceptable)!
Now is not the time to sleep. You need to exercise. (Strut that stuff, peacock!) You need to start paying attention because it’s the only currency that matters. This needs to be done while life is in motion.
Understand this: you are going to fail.
For starters, you’re not me.
More importantly, life is a steamroller going 120 miles per hour in a school zone at eight o’clock in the morning. You’ll be halfway through squatting your first coffee and drinking your morning shit before you realize you had it backwards.
That’s disgusting, but also not you. So, let it go and reclaim your attention. The moment you get upset about it, the astral nasties swoop in and start slurping you up, and (believe me) it’s not the kind of slurping you want. All you need is to become aware and redirect your attention.
To what?
To being fucking metal, of course!
At least, that’s the goal.
Over time.
For now, it’s enough to direct it to something that sucks a little less. You’re a loser right now. Accept that, and you can start putting your attention on being less of a loser. Do this enough, moment by moment, and eventually you’ll climb out of that hole you’re in. Once you’re out of that hole, then you can start thinking about getting into the fun ones.
Don’t confuse this with self-improvement. Don’t confuse this with some bullshit grind.
Stoicism! Embrace the suck. Some dead philosopher said you have to suffer to achieve anything!
Wrong.
All wrong and all fatuus.
I’m telling you you don’t have to suffer. You only suffer because you put your attention on the suck.
Do you like to suck? Did you not come to me because you’re trying to get sucked? Unless you’re trying to suck yourself off, I suggest you curate your attention.
Guess What, Friend? You Got Homework.
So, what have we learned today, cl(ass)?
Vril is your life essence.
Swagger is life essence plus the authentic expression of you being you. Unabashedly, so.
Attention is one of the weapons in your arsenal against the otherworldly powers that conspire against you. What you feed your attention will grow; the inverse is also true. Use your attention to preserve and, ideally, increase your vril. Separate you from not you to develop your swagger.
This is the foundation to your pyramid. Build it well and you will age like Giza. Fail and you will age to be a geezer.
As you go about your week, check in with yourself. If you intend to do it, you will.
(We will talk more about Intention in the near future.)
You think I’m holding back, dear reader, but I promise you, I couldn’t be telling you straighter. These are the keys to it all.
The powers that be would never tell you what I’m telling you now. Because if you take it to heart, if you put it to practice, you will become ungovernable. No man will hold dominion over you.
If my eyes weren’t like diamonds, my heart gold, would I hand over such secrets when I could keep them all for myself?
You don’t have to believe dear Davey here (but I know you want to).
Give it a try for yourself. A real peacock’s try (strut, baby, strut). Fake ones won’t do.
You’ll see for yourself.
Te amo.
Adios, muchachos.