I’ve never been in a place where I just have everything I needed. even begins with one of those guys, and they met somebody and fell in love and had a family, and they didn’t get compulsive about it like I did.
I suppose it’s one of those books where it’s like a forking path, depending on who you are coming to reading it.
When Neil Strauss’s blockbuster book about pickup artistry came out a decade ago, I was a Midwestern ingenue in New York City, and I read it mostly as a defensive measure. (The cube represents the woman’s ego or something—so if it’s big, it means she’s self-confident; if it’s transparent as opposed to opaque that means she’s open as opposed to guarded; if it’s pink that means she’s bright and energetic …
student named Jon had mentioned , and was demonstrating how it worked by means of “The Cube” routine, where you ask a woman to imagine a box standing in the desert, and you tell her about herself based on how she describes it.
Any way you could do this—and there were lots of bizarre techniques with goofy names, like “peacocking,” where you might wear an outlandish hat to give people something to comment on—helped you get the access you needed to try to convince someone to sleep with you. If anything, Tinder has only facilitated this probability-based approach to courtship, but Strauss’s new book, , is about how he ended up settling down and making peace with the fact that you can’t be monogamous with everyone. But because no one had even heard of this world, and the techniques, let’s face it, are so objectifying and horrifying, that the book became the bible of what it was trying to chronicle in a more neutral way.