For a variety of reasons I recently found myself sitting in a cafe in a country where they serve REALLY good coffee – unlike in the old country where coffee culture is a very new thing and as a result the taste is absolutely dreadful.

Now, the cafe that we were sitting in was very hipster-friendly but was completely empty, as it was kind of late in the day and the lunch crowd had long since come and gone. And the cafe’s TV and sound system was playing an endless series of songs from YouTube, all of which were modern “pop music”, and ALL of which were absolutely horrible.

I’ve ranted at considerable length about just how appallingly bad modren pop music is. But sitting there and being forced to listen to, and watch, song after terrible song until my latte arrived, was painful on a whole new level.

The first song played was some sort of remake of Mariah Carey’s smash hit “All I Want for Christmas Is You”, which this time around was a collaboration with Canada’s worst and foulest export, Justin Bieber. Then there was some sort of Eddie Sheeran song which, again, featured a collaboration with Prancing Justine, and which was similarly unbearable.

The playlist meandered its way through multiple terrible songs, but the one that really ground my gears was this one:

Now, any romantically inclined woman will tell you immediately that this song is very “nice”. It’s a nice song, they’ll say. It’s sweet, it’s romantic, it’s caring. It’s about a nice guy telling the girl that he loves how he’ll always be there for her, no matter what happens. It’s exactly what women want in a man, they’ll tell you.

I certainly heard similar sentiments after I made clear how disgusted I was with that song.

Why, exactly, is this song such a wretched abomination, then, if attractive women everywhere think that it’s sweet and nice?

The key to understanding the problem lies in realising that it is precisely the adjective, nice, that is the issue.

Gentlemen, sit up and take notes:

Nice guys don’t get the girl.

Nice guys don’t get laid.

Nice guys don’t stay in happy relationships.

Nice guys are the ones who become emotional warm blankets for girls. They are the ones who insist on being the shoulder to cry on, the best friend that a girl can possibly have, the non-threatening eunuch who will never ever take advantage of them when they feel vulnerable and afraid.

Nice guys are the ones who stay stuck in the Friend-Zone all their lives.

That is precisely what that song is. It is the very definition of the Gamma Friend-Zone Anthem. Gammas are exactly the types of men who get trapped in the Friend-Zone for years and decades on end.

I know what that’s like. I used to be in the Friend-Zone for years. I have pointed out before that I was in the Friend-Zone with a former classmate of mine from high school, with whom I reconnected in university and subsequently spent huge amounts of time with. Today she has been happily married for, I think, about ten years and has a daughter with her husband.

Let me tell you how blue-pilled I was at the time. I actually met the man that became her husband. She asked me to come over and hang out, and then she mentioned that this guy that she’d been kind-of-sort-of-hanging-out-with-on-dates wanted to come over and go out for dinner together. I should have been resolute and simply gotten up and left, but I didn’t since my understanding of our relationship was that of a friend.

It was one of the more painful evenings of my life. Her then-boyfriend was a physics major, and since I’m not exactly a slouch in that department, we spent quite a bit of that evening essentially jockeying for position in terms of who could be more impressive with physics knowledge. A fly on the wall would probably have said that it was like watching a particularly unfunny episode of The Big Bang Theory.

That is exactly the kind of man that the song above is aimed toward. It is the kind of man who will stay on the reservation, never make a move, never try to improve himself, never take the risk of having his heart broken, never realise that he is more than merely a producing-consuming economic animal.

The real lesson of that song comes from the fact that women who listen to it find that shit “romantic”. The key here is that women are not, by nature, ACTUALLY romantic. I think it was Rollo Tomassi who once put it something like this:

“Men are romantics disguised as pragmatists, and women are pragmatists disguised as romantics.”

This is absolutely true. It is men who fall for this blue-pill romantic bullshit and think that it is the key to winning a woman’s heart, but it is women who actually determine, at a practical level, who will win their hands – and, not to put too fine a point on it, vaginas.

And the hard (heh) reality is that the men who win over women in the end are the ones who can stand up to them.

Men – it is a real stretch to call them “men” at all, as they basically behave identically to girls in most ways – in the Friend-Zone cannot stand up to women. They are, by definition, friendly, therefore sympathetic, to women. They are basically little better than warm comforting blankets.

But that is not what women want in a man. Women don’t want Superman, who is always there to save them when they get into trouble. Women want Batman, who is dark, strong, mysterious, and has a serious edge of real danger surrounding him.

Batman doesn’t get Friend-Zoned. Superman spends his entire life in the Friend-Zone.

Songs like that are designed to keep men like you soft, weak, and stupid. Don’t let them. Break free of those chains. Learn that women want men who can stand up to them – because if a man can’t make his intentions clear, sack up, act like a grown-ass man, and take responsibility for himself and for his woman, then he can’t help her when she really needs it.