THE SEDUCTION BIBLE

A John McLean Experience...

THE

SEDUCTION

BIBLE

John McLean

Ken Blackman

Michelle Wright

Rachael Hemsi

Hannah Abend

Angelika Beguidjanova

Who brought me to a boil...

Because only when you're boilin'

Also by the bookwright… NON-FICTION The Low Carb Revolution

Real Artists Ship

FABLES

Dancing With The Hunger

You Are NOT Destined For Greatness… But You Can Still Find It

FICTION

Zen And The Art of Stripping

Discover more…

WARNING:

This book is...

Thoroughly Wicked

Pointlessly Vulgar

Exceedingly Naughty

Only for Men

If you are none of these, please don't read it.

Seriously.

THE INVITATION

This is an adventure for men who love women...of all shapes, sizes, ages and colors.

For men who love turning women on.

Who dream of dancing passionately with the Divine Feminine long into the chaotic night. For men who love their own bodies and who love themselves.

Ambitious men. Dreamers. Empire Builders. Lovers.

Poets.

Even Pirates. Especially Pirates.

If that's you, this may be one of your most magical journeys ever.

On the other hand, you might not believe in magic. Lots of people don't.

Or you might be hiding from the big, bad world. Tons of folks are.

Perhaps your perception of women is tainted by lingering bitterness, shame, blame or pain.

Well, get in line.

If any of these apply, you probably won't enjoy the adventure ahead. Every step will seem like sandpapery torture as you find your rawest buttons pushed and your comfort zone repeatedly trampled. Maybe this isn’t the ideal time for you to go through this singular experience. And that's okay, too.

If you need to heal first, go heal first.

Come back any time—you'll be welcomed with open arms. Whether coming or going, sir, you are loved and you are deserving of all the greatness you've ever dreamt about. Either way, I want to share a secret with you. It's the best-est secret of all, because once you truly grasp it, you'll grasp everything. It's the secret of why you're here. As a man, I mean. Something you may have wondered about a time or two.

Are you ready to learn the secret of being a man? Here goes...

You’re here to transform yourself into the superhero you were born to become.

That's it.

It may not sound like a lot, becoming a superhero. But it’s kind of a lot.

superhero-ness, you'll forevermore have a responsibility to fight Evil in the world--in whatever form it manifests for you.

I know the book’s cover promises that you’ll finally learn how to understand and seduce women. And so you shall. So you absolutely shall. You really have no idea of the epic wins awaiting you in the Land of Women.

But...maybe our odyssey is also a little more than that. Maybe this is also an instruction manual for superheroes. Disguised as a book on seduction...so the Bad Guys won't see us coming...and also to keep mere mortals out.

So if you are one of the select few who's finally ready to step into your full potential as a man, a lover and a superhero, then consider this your personal invitation. Welcome inside!

LEVEL I

A NEW MODEL of THE HUMAN

EXPERIENCE

1: From Scarcity to Abundance

L

Together we shall banish all trace of scarcity to your distant past and deliver you to a land of hot- and cold-running abundance--where you'll feel confident that you can connect with any woman you like, and turn her on just the way she likes.

You already have the ability to do this...you just don't know it yet. To tease your potential out into the light of day, you'll first need to make some fundamental shifts in how you understand the world, yourself and the whole of the human experience.

As luck would have it. that's exactly where we'll be focusing our energies during Level I of our heroic trek.

Along the way, you'll be exposed to secrets you never knew existed, and you’ll discover the real truth behind some of the most deeply held and utterly mistaken myths about life. Starting with the most ridiculous misrepresentation ever foisted upon humankind: the one where men supposedly possess all the appetite for sex, while women have little or none.

As is so often the case with myths, the truth is exactly the opposite.

Here’s how the story really goes...

Men enjoy splashing around in a bathtub filled to the brim with our sexual desire--criss-crossing the sudsy waves with our mighty fleet of colorful plastic boats, led into battle by our yellow ducky with his amazing submersible powers, all in all quite thrilled at the extent of our watery empire.

But no matter how large or grand our bathtub, the seas of a woman's sexual cravings swamp our own. While we men are fiercely proud to be Lord High Potentate of our bathtuby domain of desire, it turns out that a woman's sexual hunger rivals the depth and breadth of the ocean itself.

I want to share another secret with you. It's a secret that some women still won’t admit to, but that doesn’t make it any less true...

Women don't just have more sexual desire than men...for all practical purposes they have infinitely more.

Her desire is so vast and deep that you can think of it as her Infinite Desire.

A woman’s Infinite Desire is both her joy and her burden.

Her pleasure and her pain.

It's also a large reason why seducing a woman is so much easier than you may currently suspect. And since seduction is so very easy, we’re not going to stop there. Why would we?!

Our greater goal is to deliver you to the doorstep of your own greatness, because if your ultimate goal isn't to become a Great Man, then what's the point of any of this?

For that matter, until you step fully into your Greatness, sir, what's the point of you?!

There's no value or virtue in figuring out how to understand and seduce women just so you can squander the remainder of your time punching the clock as another soulless cog in the corporate hamster wheel.

Let's get real honest with one another real quick, my friend...

You and I are both know there have been times in your life when you’ve set the bar for yourself ridiculously low. Times when you were sleepwalking through your job and your sexings alike. When you made no art, created no lasting wealth and built no empires in your image.

Lazy days that stretched into months...and even years.

You know exactly what I'm talking about, don't you?! And you know deep down that this has got to change. And if not right now with me, then when?!

Seriously, when?!

Lazy is easy. I should know, I did it for a looooooong time. It’s always easier to keep doing what you’re already doing than to do something different. As you might imagine, we’re gonna do things different around here.

I want you to feel like you're already getting your money's worth, so here's another secret to sink your teeth into...

Seduction isn't something you do...it's someone you become.

And when you become that someone, you get a reward. That reward, of course, is women. Beautiful, passionate, naughty women. But becoming a lover in the tradition of Casanova or, for that matter, your not-so-humble narrator, is not for everybody.

Nor should it be.

If playing this game ain't your thing, don't do it. Go play some other game.

But if you choose to keep playing on this field, then you gotta play hard. The powerful and turned-on women of the world want nothing less from you than your best. They want you to show up with the full force of your presence and desire. They want you to open up and reveal yourself to the core.

Most of all, the women want you to stop apologizing for being a man and finally own your greatness. Only then will they open up to you in return. Only then will they allow you to see them for who they really are.

You want to start mixing it up with the best women? Then you need to figure out how to bring out the best in yourself every single day.

Women expect nothing less of you. And YOU, of all people, should expect nothing less of yourself.

Now you know the game we're playing here. If I haven't managed to scare you off yet, my man, then I invite you to skip directly to Chapter 3. I sorta need to take a moment for a meeting of the minds with any stray visitors of the female persuasion who might've inadvertently stumbled into our Boys Only clubhouse.

2: A Note To The Ladies

H

Look deeply into my greenest of green eyes. Feel the weight of my full, undivided attention on you. Scoot closer, until our knees touch and our limbic systems get all cuddly and oxytocin-y with one another. Feel me feeling you as we lovingly connect. Are we there? Good, now let's talk...

Dude, you are freakin' killing me here!

What are you doing, anyway—all hanging around here and getting in our man bidness?! This is super-secret guy stuff!

C'mon, you know the drill...

NO GIRLS ALLOWED!

Baby, I adore you. I know your heart's in the right place, but, frankly, I did not create this journey for you. I made it for the men in your life. Or, more precisely, the kind of men you want in your life.

They're the ones who need this, but never knew how to ask for it before. Jeez, men aren't even allowed to ask for directions, so we're sure as heck not gonna run around asking anybody to 'splain us the inner workings of the most complicated system in the

history of the universe—the human female!

You ladies are always complaining about how men don't get the rules of you, but how in the world would they?! Nobody ever took my brothers aside to explain how the interplay between the sexes works. Nobody ever bothered to mention that the Masculine and Feminine forces in the universe are locked in an intricate, ancient, chaotic dance.

Instead, the bus just dumped them at the entrance to the milonga—the dance party—and they were somehow expected to wondrously know all the complexities of the human tango.

There remain so many decent men out there who keep making the same mistakes with women over and over again simply because they were never taught the jizzity-jazzity turns, steps or even etiquette of the milonga.

Still, they try. Oh, how men try.

But every fellow has his breaking point. If he's unable to figure out the dance on his own, he’ll eventually quit trying. And then, finally, he stops coming to the milonga altogether.

When a good man stops showing up at the dance, everybody loses.

I've come to teach these men how to tango with you. But to accomplish that I first need to lead them deep within and show them how they can--and, indeed, must--transform themselves from the inside out. They've got to discover how to feel into their deepest ambitions and how to ask the world for what they want with boldness and confidence.

Behind the facade of discovering an original model of seduction, they’ll evolve into men who know how to fully show up, and then remain present with you regardless of how stormy and difficult your seas may become. Because a man who can hold you literally and figuratively in his arms without reacting emotionally to your upsets--that's a man you want at your side.

Yet for him to arrive at that station in life, he first needs to mine the depths of his own emotions and insecurities. He's going to have to do something rarely asked of men anymore...

Become vulnerable.

I'm going to take him by the hand and show him how to open up to that vulnerability. To you, for starters...but ultimately, and most importantly, to himself.

And, lemme tell ya, there's no harder thing for a man to do than open up.

None.

And that raw vulnerability and openness is exactly why he can't have you hanging around, looking over his shoulder and second-guessing his best efforts.

Even your most heartfelt displays of support and encouragement could make him feel awkward and self-conscious to the point where he abandons his quest to learn the steps of the dance altogether. And you don't want that. You of all people know how sensitive men can be in the face of even a whiff of what they perceive to be judgment or ridicule, right?!

This is the road less traveled for men.

I'm calling them “men” because that's what they look like on the outside, but you and I both know they're mostly boys. Their bodies grew up, but their insides didn't. Sure, now they have deeper voices and more hair (well, some do!) but on the inside they remain Little Boys putting on a brave front--trying their best in an already scary world that happens to be half-filled with even scarier creatures called women.

Every one of those “boys” has the capability of becoming the dashing, confident man of action you've soooooooo longed to meet. A man who can seduce you and seduce the world. A man who knows what he wants and goes after it without excuses.

Look, I know you wanna help. That's your nature. You want to give the men your love and support. And you can, you most definitely can...

By staying the hell out of our way!

In any case, why waste your valuable time on this wicked little book about the long lost art of seduction when there are approximately 10,000 million-trillion other self-help tomes written by, for and about your fellow Sister Goddesses of the Traveling Pants? I'm sure they're all quite lovely and I highly recommend reading every last one of them. Twice. If not thrice. On the flip side, your average man will quite contentedly go through his entire life without cracking open a single volume on personal development--much less one about how to become a “better man”, whatever that’s supposed to mean.

THE SEDUCTION BIBLE may well be the only

book of its kind that many men read in their whole life, so why not let them have this unique experience to themselves?

Hey, I absolutely adore women. I love playing with women in bed and out. However, and I cannot emphasize this enough, I did not write this for you.

If you have any issues—and who doesn't have issues?--then the frank nature of the conversation that the men and I will be having about sexuality might make you a little uncomfortable. And by a “little”, I mean a “lot”. As will the language itself, which becomes increasingly raw--and, frankly, downright vulgar—as we gain momentum.

Take another glance at the title, my love. Notice it's not called How To Be A Good Lil’ Boyfriend, or EZ Guide

to Monogamy. This is not a book about relationship

advice. Relationship is a totally different game than the one we’re playing here. Besides, you don’t want them getting relationship advice from me anyway.

I am the quintessential playboy. I travel the globe full-time with a VIP pass to an all-you-can-eat buffet of pure hedonism. As I write these words, I'm spending the summer in the exceedingly naughty village of London, England. I currently have six lovers from as many different countries, with new candidates for my affection appearing on a daily basis. For me, threesomes and moresomes are what I call, “Tuesday”.

It’s not like I’m hiding anything here...

That said, I'm not recruiting the men to my playboy lifestyle—frankly, most of them couldn't handle living this way for more than a day or two before their head exploded like a Gremlin in a microwave. But I also never once stop for the slightest judgments, apologies or recommendations about the “best” way for the men to express their sexuality.

Still, having read ahead, I can assure that you not a single syllable of traditional relationship advice ever once emerges from my pen.

Instead I fit out our little Icarus with curvy wings of feathers, held together with wax and string, and direct him to fly as close to the sun of his brightly burning lusts as he dares.

And if you should dare to follow, you may end up flying too near to the sun of your own deeply buried passions, such that wax may melt and feathers may burn and the roaring Beast within you may awaken--hungry and unfulfilled and more than a little upset at its long imprisonment in the heavy iron cage deep in the hold of your Great Ship. And the crewmembers of your ship will point fingers at one another about who’s to blame until finally they unite in finding the cause of the Beast’s agitation.

That would be me.

From then on, for page after inflammatory page, the blaze within you will grow--until finally you'll want to take it out on the hapless men already in your life, or you'll want to make me wrong for teaching them how to fly.

I'm not wrong.

Terminally arrogant, yes. Wrong, no.

So, let’s make a deal, you and I. If you'll take the next exit for Splitsville, then I'll share a little secret with you. A secret that would utterly ruin my reputation if the men were ever to find out. Fair enough? Okay, here goes...

I just pretend to be a Playboy...actually, I fall in love every time.

Every. Single. Time.

That's the truth. That’s my dirty little secret, just between me and you. Don’t tell nobody.

And...scene!

Okay, sister, if you're still reading this it means you still haven't gone away--even though I asked you super-duper nicely.

More than once. And I even shared a secret with you. I thought we had a thing, you and I.

A thing.

But noooooooooooooooo. So now I'll have to get a little firmer with you. It's time for a heavier stroke.

problem is, lady?! Do you actually imagine I haven't figured out the game you're playing?! That little game called, Ooooh Look How Enigmatic Women Are?!

You enjoy dismissing men for not getting you...even when on occasion they kinda sorta accidentally DO get you.

You go around pissed off at the boys because they never learned the Kafka-esque choreography of the milonga...and you're about to get even more pissed off at me for shining a bright light into the mirrors and fog of the dancehall until they finally do begin to understand and you lose your advantage.

By continuing to hang around you've made me kinda angry, little missy, so I'm going to rub your nose in this a little...

I promise you that by the end of this book—hell, by the end of Level I!--not only will the “boys” finally grasp how you really work, they'll know a great deal more about how you really work than you do.

And that's a guarantee!

Let the implications of that sink in. I bet you don't like that one bit, do you, baby?! Hey, everybody wants to be the Great & Powerful Oz...until the curtain's pulled aside, right?!

My theory is that you’re sticking your nose in our business because you don't want me revealing all these secrets about how you truly operate.

And why would you? One of the greatest weapons in your everlasting “battle” with men is your mystery, your unknowingness, your complicated-osity. Except

for one little thing, love. It's another secret that nobody ever explained to you before...

This thing between the sexes is not a battle.

Never was, never will be.

It's a dance. A dance where the Masculine leads and the Feminine follows. It could as easily have been the other way around. But it's not. It's this way around.

Yet there's a part of you that wants to deny that it’s not a battle, to keep things just they way they are, no matter what the cost.

Do you even know why?

Actually, you do know why, I'm just going to say it out loud and bring it into Mutual Knowledge so you can no longer deny it. There's a part of you that’s afraid that if the men in your life fully step into their Masculine Ideal, then you're going to have work that much harder to keep them.

Both to keep them and keep up with them.

Sweetie, I get that you want to continue thinking this is a battle that you’ve gotta win at all costs. But you and I both know that you don't want to always win. You secretly, quietly, never-admit-this-to-anyone-ly want the men to at least have a chance to win.

You just don't want to make it easy for them. You want them to earn it.

Fair enough. So maybe it's not just a dance. Maybe it's a dance competition, where there are winners and losers. But the thing you've been doing wrong all this time is trying to win by making sure the men lose.

Let this secret sink in...

You only truly win when the men also have a chance to win.

Until that happens, everybody loses.

Dude, I bet you are crushin' on me so hard right now, aren't you?! I can feel it. I can totally feel you. I can feel your loneliness. Here’s a parting secret for you...

As beautiful as you are, inside and out, you’re also lonely. Not just lonely, but Lonely.

Deeply and profoundly Lonely. Your Loneliness is the dark secret you silently suffer from every day of your life, isn’t it?

I’m trying to help you by creating men who are worthy of you. And you can help me by staying out of our damn way while we get this all sorted out.

We'll let you know when we're done. In fact, we'll come find you when we're done. We’ll come and penetrate your Loneliness like it’s never been penetrated before...all the way to your Deep Spot.

And I know that you know what I’m talking about. And I know that you know it’s worth waiting for. So let us go. Let us fly off to the sun, wax wings and all!

3: What Do Women Want?

W

Sorry about that little interruption. While you were away I charmed the ladies. They agreed to go back to doing what they do best--being fabulous!--while you and I set off on our heroic adventure of tilting at windmills and slaying monstrous, fire-breathing dragons!

With the dames out of the way, let's get down to business.

A few years back, some foreign dude named Sigmund Freud who poked around in people's brains for a living famously asked, “What do women want?” A poignant question, indeed...yet one which Herr Freud himself proved embarrassingly unable to answer. Well, my friend, we’re about to untangle his legendary query.

Mind you, our focus here is deliberately narrow. We're principally exploring what women want in the sexual arena. And while women are exceedingly sexual creatures, their sexuality is merely one miniscule part of the totality of who they are...as we shall also explore.

Now to better understand both women and men, let's first make an important distinction...

There are sexual genders and then there are sexual energies.

On the one hand, there are humans with male anatomy, genes and hormones...as well as female versions of all that same stuff. Meanwhile beneath the surface, there are forces that propel us through the world, influencing what experiences we focus on and what actions we take.

One of these drives is the Masculine--linear, logical, analytical, goal-oriented, always moving.

The late, great Earl Nightingale described the Masculine as being like a ship at sea. Without a purpose and direction, he said, it flounders about, utterly useless to all concerned. Yet point that same ship at a distant port and raise the sails, and there's no limit to what the masculine can achieve...or at least perish nobly in attempting.

The opposing force is the Feminine—empathetic, nurturing, social, unpredictable. Contrary to the masculine, the feminine isn't trying to get anywhere because there’s nowhere for it to go. It already is exactly where it wants and needs to be. The feminine just IS.

David Deida describes the feminine as being like the ocean--vast and complete unto itself, already touching every shore. On the surface it's raging, while beneath the waves everything is calm...or, more often, the other way around!

Neither masculine nor feminine are better or more powerful or more anything than the other.

you as a Jeep, my friend!--and under the hood you had a motor that powered you through life. At times, your masculine motor would engage, driving you forward to a specific destination, while at others the feminine would be turned on and your engine would purr with satisfaction in the lap of the present moment.

When you (or a woman) are playing the game called Building An Empire, you are necessarily in your turbo-charged masculine energy. And when either of you play the game called Relationship, you’ll find yourself in your warm sticky feminine energy.

Regardless of our anatomy, all people are driven at different times by EACH of these forces, which, in their most inspired incarnations you might think of as the Divine Feminine and the Masculine Ideal.

As a general rule, women embody more of the feminine essence and men more of the masculine. Of course, that's far from always true. There are plenty of women invested almost entirely in their masculine, just as there are many men overwhelmed by their feminine.

Much of our capacity as men to enjoy the actual experience of sex depends on our ability to access our feminine essence. (The reason why we frequently become so gushy and lovey with a woman after even a single sexual escapade is because our feminine aspect has opened up and we've rediscovered our longings for intimacy and connection.)

For our purposes here, however, we're going to pretend as if the menfolk are the primary keepers of the masculine fires while the womenfolk tend to the

feminine flame.

Armed with that understanding, we can rephrase Herr Doktor Freud's question into something we can actually work with. Rather than confining the question to anatomical gender alone, let's instead ask, “What does the Feminine want?”

The answer, like so many truths, appears simple. Yet grasping the implications of this simple truth is the task of a lifetime. Without further ado...

The feminine wants to experience sensation.

Sensation means physiological stimulation from our many senses. Although our supposed computer-brains get all the credit for understanding the world thanks to the universal monopoly of the Standard Dogma, in truth the vast majority of our perception and processing of what's happening around us takes place through our bodily senses—well outside our conscious awareness.

While our brains can (barely) do one thing at a time, our bodies are capable of taking in and making sense of billions of bits of data per second--a staggering feat of multitasking.

While the masculine essence seeks to measure and define the surface of the world, the feminine desires to know life at a deeper level through sensation in the body.

The feminine usually prefers to experience positive stimuli...but what it interprets as positive can vary greatly according to the situation. (Which is why many a turned-on woman relishes a smart spanking!) The feminine impulse to connect with sensation--tapping into and feeling sensory stimulation in every

cell of her body--is, to borrow Dylan Thomas' electric phrase, “the force that through the green fuse drives the flower”.

A man living in his masculine energy can scarcely fathom the amount of physical sensation that a woman fully invested in her feminine can hold in her body, nor the profound depth at which she can feel it.

Whenever we men have enough sensations in our bodies to actually notice it, our masculine inclination is to try to make that feeling go away as soon as possible, if not sooner.

If a man feels the urge to pee, for instance, he has about a three-minute window of opportunity to make a mad dash to the nearest toilet before experiencing a full-blown panic attack. Meanwhile, a woman with the same impetus might make a mental note to remind herself to use the bathroom at some point in time before she goes to bed that night!

The feminine is not only able to sit in negative or positive stimulations for longer without trying to fix them, it can also expand in the direction of that sensation in order to perceive those feelings more intensely. Which is why the female body has such a prodigious capacity to enjoy physiological contact during sex, allowing it build and build, surging back and forth like powerful waves racing to crash deliciously upon the far shores of her body.

Again...

The feminine wants to experience sensation.

And not merely experience sensation, but feel it as profoundly and deeply as possible. A turned-on

woman's capacity to relish the physical charge in her body is well-nigh inexhaustible.

So we can refer to it as her Infinite Desire.

Here's another one of those secrets that some women will simply never admit to, but which they know in their hearts to be true...

A woman's ability to awaken and feel into her Infinite Desire during her sexual expression is limited only by her schedule and the talents of herself or her partner(s).

Women are often genuinely frightened by the genuinely infinite depths of their desire. And quite justifiably. They fear that if they get sucked into the black hole of giving themselves permission to feel everything they could possibly feel, they'll never be able to return. They're afraid of falling into their internal Singularity—where they could be pulled apart from the inside out by their insatiable hunger for ever more stimulation. These fears are so palpable that women sometimes defend themselves against this dire possibility by shutting down their sex entirely...or at the least keeping it locked away behind heavily barred doors, with a muscular Bodyguard posted just outside as yet another line of defense.

If you cannot create and maintain a safe container around a woman's limitless capacity for sensation, then you shouldn’t be engaging with her Infinite Desire in the first place.

Let's do that one again...it is that important.

If your masculine energy can’t handle the Infinite Desire of the feminine within a woman, then you have no business turning her on in the first place.

Only a fool would douse a bonfire with jet fuel and then saunter up to light it with a kitchen match.

And you, sir, are no fool.

4: What Are Men For?

W

But next let's discover our own role in the dance by asking the question that Lil Siggy Freud never got around to posing, “What's the point of men?!”

Imma tell you, right now...

Whereas the feminine wants to experience sensation, the masculine wants to seek it.

At first blush these seem quite similar. They're not.

Same planet, different worlds.

Put another way, the masculine is about hunting down food in the first place, while the feminine is about savoring every sensuous bite of it once it’s been caught.

This deep craving for the hunt is expressed through our limitless lust—our incessant masculine hunger for more.

For all practical purposes, the masculine can never be satisfied of its desire to hunt, and so we are driven by our Infinite Lust.

The fiery winds of our Infinite Lust rage day and night, filling the heavy canvas sails of our personal pirate ship as we criss-cross the treacherous seas from one port to the next.

Our lust takes many forms. We can scour the world in search of monuments to build, riches to earn or women to conquer. Yet, no sooner have we reached a new destination, bedded another woman or made one more million, then we're itching to set off on the next quest.

While our Infinite Lust drives us to hunt down and capture prey, sometimes we merely go through the motions of consuming our catch. Because, unlike the feminine, the eating of it was never our true desire. We were always in it for the hunting. Uncle Abe Lincoln neatly summed up our enduring enchantment with the hunt: “With the catching ends the pleasure of the chase.”

Indeed.

Here's a little secret they've studiously left out of the sexless placebo-speak being preached from the bully pulpits of Big Self Help seminars everywhere...

Our success as men is directly connected to our Infinite Lust—our masculine compulsion to roam the world on a ceaseless quest for more.

And a bonus secret for you...

our accomplishments will be.

Back when Tiger Woods let his super-heated, loin-jarring passions burn like a wildfire across a parched forest, he won virtually every tournament he entered. Even Majors were the merest speed bumps in his path. Then his truly magnificent lust was publicly exposed and hosed down with the waters of a thousand holier-than-thou gossip columnists, unfulfilled housewives and smirking, late-night TV comics.

Almost immediately his heroic deeds waned. Nowadays he's no longer a shoe-in to win every tournament he enters. Indeed, he seldom wins anymore at all...and it’s no longer even a surprise when he misses the Cut altogether.

Tiger Woods reigned in his lust in order to keep his millions in endorsement deals, but at the cost of his legacy in the game of golf.

Here's a secret they'll never, ever teach at Harvard Business School...

Great men are driven by great lusts.

“The men of greatest achievement are men with highly developed sex natures,” wrote Napoleon Hill, a fellow who threw down with world leaders and business tycoons alike. “The men who have accumulated great fortunes and achieved outstanding recognition in literature, art, industry and architecture were motivated by the influence of women.”

In a phrase...

And the first step to becoming a great hunter? Well, you gotta actually leave the house.

This may sound incredibly obvious, but you'd be surprised how many men—good men, qualified men--overlook this step entirely. They squander their prime years locked behind closed doors, pining away for more women, more money and more tributes rather than daring to walk through that door and hunt them down in the first place.

You might say, “But hunting is not easy.”

And I might answer, “It's not supposed to be easy.”

If you don't hunt, you don't eat.

If you want to embody your Masculine Ideal and finally step into your greatness, know this...

Within every man is a lion—and that lion must hunt.

Ceaselessly.

A lion can survive for extended stretches without actually feeding, but it cannot flourish unless it hunts.

If your lion doesn't hunt regularly, if he isn't “worked” like one of those multi-million dollar thoroughbred racehorses, then he'll eventually fall into a deep slumber. And when your lion sleeps, very little in your life will go as you desire. One of the great tragedies of our modern society is that so many high-value men have stopped hunting--with the result that their lion has fallen completely asleep.

Over time, these men forget that the hunt is even part of their nature. They become weak and soft, from

the inside out.

When you forget to hunt for women, you also forget to hunt for art and for wealth and for the other spectacular rewards that are the birthright of the masculine.

And once you've forgotten these things, then what's the point of you?

No, buddy boy, I'm really asking you this...

If you forget to hunt, what is the point of you?

The answer, as I'm sure you've already guessed, is none. A man who doesn't hunt has no point at all.

“Sex desire,” Napoleon Hill added, “is the most powerful of human desires. When driven by this desire, men develop keenness of imagination, courage, will-power, persistence and creative ability unknown to them at other times.”

To which I can only add, “Preach it, Napoleon!” (I wonder what his pals called him? “Nappy?” “The Napster?” “Ol' Nappenheimer?”)

Movie stars, celebrity athletes and captains of industry all have something in common--towering achievements fueled by towering lusts, both sexual and otherwise...but especially sexual.

There currently exist hundreds of “celebrity blogs” on the Internet, whose singular goal is to chronicle and lay bare this exact phenomenon: the uncommon

lusts of uncommonly successful people.

They bust out of their cage to hunt—again, whether for money, art, women or empires does not matter. No prey is more worthy than any other. As Penn Gillette puts it, “It's all one show business!”

You and I were born to prowl, to hunt for what we desire, and to reshape the world in our own image. The hunt keeps us young. No pill, no surgery can rejuvenate a man like hunting.

Every lesson you still need to learn to transmogrify yourself into the superhero you were born to become can be found in the hunt...

Desire. Persistence. Vulnerability. Presence. Triumph. Failure.

Most especially, failure. Because if you're not failing every now again, you're doing it wrong.

Even armed with the all-new model of seduction I'll lay out for you Levels III and IV of THE

SEDUCTION BIBLE, even I don’t succeed with every

woman I attempt to seduce.

And when I fail, ohhhhhh, I fail spectacularly. And not just with women, but in all my empire-building endeavors.

hunting. I never even think about stopping. Why would I?! There’d no longer be any point to me if I did.

Haven't you ever wondered why even the wealthiest and most successful men on the globe still go to the “office” every single day and hunt like their lives depended on it?!

Bill Gates, Donald Trump, Sir Richard Branson, Elon Musk and their equals couldn't begin to spend the merest fraction of the wealth they've already accumulated, yet they go to work day after day and toil away as if they were pimply-faced interns desperate to land an entry-level position at their firm.

These men have built up spectacular fortunes and a stellar body of noteworthy accomplishments, yet they still hunt every day.

Why?!

Why do they do keep hunting?!

Why do they continue to work when they no longer need to?!

Because great men cannot do otherwise. Great men never stop hunting—that's the largest part of what makes them great.

Whatever they’re currently hunting for is an Epic Quest that gives their lives meaning and purpose.

Even now, after all his enormous success, Stephen King continues to sit down at his desk and write his two thousand words every single day of the year— including Christmas, the 4th _{of July and his own damn}

birthday.

As I write these words, Warren Buffett, closing in on his mid-EIGHTIES and already worth umpteen billions of dollars, just closed a deal to buy Pittsburgh-based Heinz Foods for the princely sum of

$28 billion.

Can you guess what Mr. Buffett said in the press conference to announce this happy news? After the merest of acknowledgements for pulling off the

deal--which just so happened to be the largest food industry acquisition in the history of the world!--the lively old

coot announced that he's still got another $20 billion or so in cash and he's “actively hunting for another deal”.

Those were Warren Buffett’s words precisely... “Actively hunting.”

A billionaire in his '80s. Not resting on his laurels, not lounging on the beach reminiscing over his past successes, not getting stoned with his buddies or reading a novel by the pool.

Actively hunting.

Here's a pop quiz for you... What did YOU hunt today?

Great men hunt, my friend. And they keep hunting...quite often til the day they die. Two words: Steve Jobs.

masculine, I’d like to trot out one of those proverbial men who “need no introduction”.

This fellow is the living embodiment of a modern-day Casanova, and he’s yet another exceedingly wealthy man in his '80s. He's a legendary record producer and jazz arranger--credited on over 400 albums.

He's won 27 Grammies on more than 70 nominations. In his spare time, he’s composed the music for 35 feature film scores, founded Vibe magazine and produced two of the most successful songs in history--“Thriller” and “We Are The World”

His name, of course, is Mr. Quincy Jones.

But all that's just the back story. I don't want to shame you, but...

In 2013 alone, Quincy Jones has launched the careers of six new artists by producing their first albums.

Currently he’s developing four separate Broadway shows, including a musical recounting his life story.

He's got nine different movies in various stages of production.

Oh, and he's composing an original musical on the evolution of his greatest passion—jazz!

By the way, I was just kidding earlier. I DO want to shame you here. Seriously, what have you accomplished so far this year?

Be honest...wouldn't you be content if you'd pulled off the feat of producing a single album or developing

one Broadway show in the past twelve months?! Some men's entire New Year's Resolution list consists of a lone, modest ambition such as “get a girlfriend” or “find a new job” or “buy a house”.

Any fool can get a girlfriend, a job or a house. That's not why you are here. You're here to stand up and be counted. Whereas the feminine is hungry for stimulus—both physical touch and emotional intimacy--the masculine is hungry for recognition— being acknowledged as unique and important in the world.

The masculine doesn't just want to build monuments, it also needs to make sure everybody knows damn well who's responsible for 'em.

Our craving for recognition from others is why men so often name their creations after themselves...witness hoteliers Trump, Wynn, Hilton and Marriott, just to name a few.

And once you start getting the recognition you desire and deserve for your creations, you'll want more and more of it. That's the beautiful nature of this beast, baby!

I know the secrets are coming fast and furious, but here's another one to add to your To Do list...

Great men are never content.

Never. Content.

But, wait, as they say on late-night TV, there's more. There's even more to the Quincy Jones

experience, and I personally believe it's the best part of all. On top of every other one of his current creative and business endeavors, Quincy Jones still—at 81!!!--makes time in his crazy schedule to hunt women as well.

He openly brags about having a “masters degree in partying” and boasts that he's currently juggling 22

separate girlfriends.

Why does he (or Charlie Sheen or the man-formerly-known-as-Tiger Woods) want or need upwards of two dozen lovers in his life? Because his vast masculine essence wants and needs the recognition that comes from being that popular.

The ladies might not like this about us--our insatiable hunger for recognition and acknowledgement from others--but we're not living our lives for them. (And if you are, you're doing it wrong, buster!) To be fair, we also cannot fully comprehend the insatiable yearning for sensation of the feminine, so that leaves everybody nicely confused about the other side!

Again, sir, what are YOU hunting in your life right now?! It can be money, art or empires. You can hunt for truth, influence, wisdom or peace. You can hunt for absolutely anything you desire.

But you cannot hunt nothing.

You can either play this game and enjoy the bounty of ladies and wealth and recognition for yourself—or you can watch other, lesser men take what should properly have been yours.

a desire to hunt, but that's their masculine drive revealing itself.

When their feminine nature returns, their lust wanes.

Whereas the feminine is fulfilled by feeling deeply into the present experience, the masculine must always hunt for new and different experiences.

Our masculine lust sometimes frightens women. And you know what frightens them most about it? The fact that the incendiary fires of our Infinite Lust quite often turns them on.

The more you connect with your own Infinite Lust, owning it without reservation or excuses, the closer you’ll come to stepping into your greatness.

If you stay with me on this heroic journey, I’ll teach you how to become a far more powerful hunter—most especially of women. But I cannot make you hunt. That's all on you.

Of course, if you're not going to hunt, then why bother getting out of bed each morning?!

To hijack Samuel Johnson's classic quote about London:

5: The Rise & Rise of The Standard Dogma

I

Although, in your defense, nobody else has either...since this fateful day isn’t marked on any calendar nor celebrated each year with a smug champagne toast like the undefeated 1972 Miami Dolphins.

It took place a balmy July day, barely two years after the end of WWII, when a parade of generals, politicians and scientists with top secret security clearances filed into an nondescript building on a U.S. Army base in Maryland, passed through a heavily guarded blast door and found themselves face-to-face with the most ungainly machine they’d ever set eyes upon.

The behemoth measured one hundred feet in length, and weighed in excess of thirty tons. Its thousands of vacuum tubes, flashing lights, relays and capacitors--held together by over five million hand-soldered joints--represented the highest technology of the day.

A bespectacled scientist with a froth of white hair explained to the buzzing visitors that the machine

didn’t come with an on-off switch. Instead it would be powered up by an Initiating Unit, itself the size of an industrial refrigerator.

At this, a bevy of young women tucked into slim pencil skirts--the newest post-war fashion craze from French designer Christian Dior--ran hither and yon, turning dials and flicking switches.

The distinguished visitors pressed closer as the gargantuan machine wheezed and whirred like an old man waking up from a nap. It was called ENIAC, and it was the world’s first digital, programmable, general purpose computer--which Life magazine later fondly dubbed, “The Giant Brain”.

You can probably guess where this is going because the planet totally changed with the introduction of the first computer since it led directly to that whole digital revolution thing everybody keeps talking about and all the cool computery stuff we got today, but, what’s the big deal anyway, because frankly your little niece’s Easy-Bake Oven has more processing power than the entire freakin’ ENIAC and yadda yadda and if you’ll just give me a

second here I want to interject that the birth of the

computer era was only the SECOND-most interesting thing that happened in that room on that fateful day of July 29th, 1947.

Now can I go on?!

So, by a string of coincidences that rivaled the collapse of the Bridge of St. Louis Rey, to one side of the room were gathered a dozen gentlemen who were previously known to each other by reputation alone. None of them stood out--because nobody really stood

out back then...it was shoulder-to-shoulder charcoal suits, white shirts and narrow ties--but they represented a Who’s Who of academics, psychiatrists and medical doctors.

They’d separately made long pilgrimages by train and motor car to be present on this day because they, too, had a problem.

Theirs didn’t involve calculating artillery shell trajectories or plotting the blast radius of a thermonuclear explosion. Instead, it was something much closer to home.

In just a few short generations, the world had become so...complicated. People previously understood themselves and their role in the unfolding drama of the universe through the colorful stories told by the great religions and the great philosophers.

But after the horrific onslaught of wars, pandemics, revolutions and genocides that had marred much of the 20th Century, it had become increasingly apparent that the old stories and fanciful myths were no longer up to the task of guiding humanity into the brave new world ahead.

The man on the street had become skittish and afraid; he no longer even trusted himself to make the right decisions anymore.

Something needed to be done. A completely new philosophy of mind was required to fill the void. But the learned gentlemen, still weary from the war effort, were fresh out of ideas.

At last the vacuum tubes of the Initiating Unit were fully warmed up. A relay switch noisily

snapped open, and kicked a staggering 150 Kw directly into ENIAC--a jolt so powerful that it caused the lights to dim noticeably in Philadelphia.

Or so the story went.

The preeminent calculating machine in history had barely creaked to life when something abruptly went wrong and it ground to a halt with an inelegant sigh.

The pencil skirts flittered in a panic--zeroing dials and swapping out ring counters and double-checking accumulators--until finally a saucy redhead emerged from behind the contraption, holding tweezers fixed around a plus-size moth with the poor luck to have crispified itself between a pair of scalding vacuum tubes.

“I found a bug!” she announced to the bemused room as ENIAC sputtered back to life.

Within moments the massive machine was solving partial differential equations...sparing the rest of us the bother of having to solve those stupid things forevermore.

Slowly the esteemed gentlemen turned to face each other, the dawn of a bold new idea lighting up their faces. One of their number spoke for the rest, “It appears that machine and man have become one, gentlemen.”

The lone economist of the bunch added, “I think we found what we were looking for...what everyone was looking for.”

A week later, the gentlemen reconvened at the Algonquin Hotel in New York City under the

watchful eye of the management’s legendary hotel cat, Hamlet, and set to work codifying a new model of the human experience based on the example of ENIAC.

Piece by piece, they built a structure of the mind that could be examined in a laboratory like any other science--measured, studied and quantized. It was based on the then-revolutionary premise that the brain functioned precisely like a high-speed computer.

To change the output of our thinking and actions, they argued, we merely needed to change the input of our “programming”. Once you start comparing the human mind to a computer, one conclusion follows another with an almost mathematical inevitability.

RAM. Hard drive. Debugging. Sub-routines. Chunking. It was all there.

The gentlemen worked around the clock for the rest of the summer, culminating in a manuscript as imposing as the machine that inspired it--fully 1000 pages long and more a quarter of a million words in length. The cover page bore the rather cumbersome title, The Official Doctrine of Human Mind-Machine.

A famous photograph from Life magazine showed the gentlemen--by now household names, one and all--shaking hands across the towering pile of typewritten pages of the original manuscript, featuring the caption, “The geniuses responsible for the new Standard Dogma”--and ultimately this was the name that stuck.

In short order, the Standard Dogma proved to be a “category killer”. It was such an accessible and

expandable model of the brain--every situation a human could possibly face had an exact corollary in the realm of computing--that soon all the competing philosophies of mind drifted into obsolescence or ridicule.

Look magazine praised the Standard Dogma as, “A

modern machine-model of the mind for the modern machine-man”.

The influence of the Standard Dogma on all aspects of psychology, medicine, the social sciences and the entire Fourth Estate cannot be overstated. To this day, the machine-model of the mind dominates every aspect of our society and culture with an iron-grip that even the Roman Catholic Church didn’t enjoy during its best days in the good ol’ Dark Ages.

It’s now an indisputable, universally appreciated fact that the only valid method of changing your life is by first changing the operating instructions of your computer-brain--a worthy message repeated in every book and seminar emerging from Big Self Help today. And it would be a happy future for all concerned except for one thing.

It’s just a little thing. Really, it’s so trivial that I almost hesitate to mention it.

But since our ultimate goal is to truly understand both ourselves and the fairer sex, I’m thinking it might ultimately prove worth mentioning, so let’s just get it out of the way, shall we?

Sooooo, there's just one teeny, tiny, itty, bitty problem with this whole high-tech, computerized, George Jetson-y take on personal development by the

Standard Dogma-teers. In a word...

It’s completely and totally wrong.

Okay, five words. But, still...wrong!

6: Out With The Old

C

Human beings are nothing like computers.

Our brains cannot be programmed...much less reprogrammed. You cannot defrag your mind, erase all limiting thoughts or neuro-anything yourself to a better, brighter future.

Still, we’re told that success is merely a small matter of re-engineering our beliefs in order to get on the fast track to incredible success, riches and a slender waistline.

Attempting to change our lives through masculine logic and the “technology” of transformation is not only ineffective, it's just plain silly.

Think about it, my friend...

If we actually could simply program our own success---like we’re told repeatedly by glossy magazines and cloying Think-Positive social media memes--why wouldn't 100% of humanity go to bed tonight with our computer brains focused on all the right programming so we’d wake up tomorrow morning on a sunny Caribbean beach, with millions in the bank, a set of washboard abs and the partner of our dreams lounging in the soft sand beside us?!

Riddle me this...

If the Standard Dogma really works, how come we're not all driving Ferraris?!

Seriously, how come virtually all of the Ferrari driving is done by the people who package and repackage the Standard Dogma, rather than by the earnest, hard-working people who are trying so valiantly to reprogram themselves according to their operating instructions?

And it’s not like our lives have been improved by this thing. By every measure, people today are unhappier, unhealthier and unwealthier than they were when we first started down this road in the late 1940’s.

Despite getting virtually 100% of the airtime for sixty years and counting, the Standard Dogma has still never been able to successfully answer any of the central questions facing modern mankind...

Why do we do the things we do?

More to the point...

Why don’t we do the things we don’t do?

Or even...

Despite equal amounts of desire starting out, how come so damn few of us achieve greatness, while such a great many of us do not?

Finally...

How come most people not only never get what they want in life, they never even come close?

Nobel laureate Richard Feynman put it succinctly, “If your model of the world disagrees with experiment, it's wrong. Period.”

And the experiment doesn’t seem to be working out so well, does it?

Even the academics and psychologists charged with infecting the Standard Dogma upon successive generations know full well it’s wrong, they just have too much invested to stop now. When the experiments of our lives disagree with the results of their laboratory predictions, they merely point the finger of blame at someone else...

Us.

Or, more accurately, our faulty programming. They insist that our success is merely a small matter of reconditioning our internal computer. If we can’t quite get the punch cards in the right order, they’ll happily set to work “debugging” us with pills and therapy and other activities conducive to paying off their vacation homes in Costa Rica.

But perhaps the most grievous offense of the Standard Dogma is how much damage it has done to our ability to genuinely connect with our female counterparts.

It’s almost like one of the original gentlemen behind the Standard Dogma was secretly an Evil Scientist who charged with causing men to Mentally Castrate themselves so that our best efforts to communicate with women would become almost laughably ineffective. (Of course, given the era in which this philosophy of the mind sprang up, this

may well have been a built-in design feature from the beginning.)

Bottom line, the old stuff doesn’t work, so we’re gonna do something different.

You never change things by fighting the existing reality.

To change something, build a new model that makes the existing model obsolete.

--Buckminster Fuller

So let’s do that. Together, let’s build a new model of the mind.

And if you like it, you can use it to do cool things like understanding your own drives and motivations better than ever before. Or getting stuff done that you’ve been putting off for...well, your whole life.

But mostly we’re gonna use it to get girls. Because...why wouldn’t we?!

7: You Are Not Who You Think You Are

W

Seriously, I know you've got a kazillion other pressing things to do and I deeply appreciate you spending your valuable time on what I hope you’ll eventually come to see as a heroic journey. (Not to give away the punchline or anything, but the Hero here is YOU!)

I also want to thank you for being open to the idea of considering the world from a different perspective. We men are used to being right all the time...heck we’re supposed to already know how everything works. So it takes a real man to admit that his old way of approaching the world and the lovely ladies in it may have been, if not entirely wrong, then possibly skewed and certainly incomplete.

And just so there's no surprises, I should warn you ahead of time that the singular model of the mind I’m going to share with you is--what’s the word? oh yeah:

weird.

It’s very weird stuff.

But you know what else is weird? Life.

Life is incorrigibly weird. People are weird.

Quantum physics is weird.

And women--they are quite possibly the weirdest things ever invented.

But you know what's not at all weird? That old-fashioned, computer-controlled paradigm of how we operate called the Standard Dogma.

That’s not weird at all. It makes perfect sense.

Which itself is weird, when you think about it. Here’s a secret that the Keepers of the Standard Dogma definitely don’t want you to find out...

No explanation of the human experience that isn’t

weird can possibly be true.

Speaking of the Standard Dogma, you ever go to one of those motivational seminars with the rest of your office or on your own where they get you all pumped up and screamy?! Where the word “Mastery” or “Destiny” or “Greatness” appears somewhere in the title?

Where you're glad-handing the other hyper-excited attendees and swapping earnest promises to become multi-millionaires by the end of the calendar year? Where you diligently fill in the blanks of the workbook that shows you the precise path to

“recalibrating your mind-map to ultimate success” or whatever?

Then by the end of the day or weekend, the hub-bub dies down and life returns to normal. Weeks pass. Months. And nothing. You don't become a multi-millionaire. In fact, you don't change at all.

So what was that all about?

How could you be so intoxicated with upbeat emotions and certainty for your future at the seminar...and ultimately have so little to show for it down the road?

Seriously, what was that all about?!

Well, it turns out that the “you” who was at the seminar—the you making new friends who dress nicer than your old friends, or the you so enthusiastically writing down the 13 Action Steps to Mastery/Destiny/Greatness—is not at all the same “you” that has to actually show up in and day-out and put in the work to get wherever you're going, now is it?!

Or maybe you never attended a personal development seminar, but instead went to one of those weekend Pick-Up Artist bootcamps. The same paradigm applies--the you getting bold and chatty with the dames while being egged on by your peacocked pickup guru isn't the same you sitting next to some sweet thing at a Starbucks a few weeks later....and so not a single one of the “gains” you made during that intense weekend shows up to help you start a conversation with her, much less seduce her into your bed.

Or maybe you simply went on vacation and noticed yourself acting quite differently in this new environment surrounded by a bunch of crazy strangers.

The reason what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas is because whatever happened there didn't even happen to “us” in the first place—it happened to a totally different side of us, our Vacation Self, if you will.

Of course, the Standard Dogma doesn't account for any of this. According to their model, there’s just One monolithic of you. Everything Big Self Help teaches depends upon the “fact” that the gal who shows up for the firewalk and the gal who later sits down to create a new online empire are one and the same.

Except...they're not.

But you don’t need me to tell you that. You already know there’s not just “one” of you, don’t you? It's more like there's a bunch of “you's” hiding out behind your Name.

After all...

To your mom, you're a son.

To your boss, you're an employee. To your minister, you're a believer. To your teacher, you're a student.

To your doctor, you're a machine that needs debugging.

To your cat, you're its personal servant.

And on and on through the many roles you cycle through each day in the course of being “You”. Most people in your life glimpse only one narrow aspect of who you are...and label you accordingly.

Your coworkers never see your musical side, and your musical friends might be appalled by your spiritual side.

We instinctively compartmentalize and label others according to the one specific arena of life from which we know them. Perhaps you’ve experienced the awkwardness of running into a former school teacher at a grocery store and realizing she’s an actual person with appetites and needs just like you?! All this time you thought she was “merely” your 4th Grade teacher. But it turns out someone married her! And then apparently had sex with her because she has kids! And now she’s out buying food for those kids!

The horror...the horror.

Or maybe’ve gone to a party and saw this creepy schlubb whom you absolutely cannot stand, and he turns out to have a side of himself that’s a virtuoso cello player, and all the pretty women at the party are ooing and awing over him and you're like, “Noooooo way! That guy's a total loser. He cannot be good at anything, dammit!”

But he is good at something. He has a part that’s really good at playing the cello.