Most people see incels and fornicators as complete opposites. The successful fornicator is enjoying life and receiving rewards while the incel is obviously suffering in mommy’s basement due to a lack of sex. Most secular people would agree that it’s much better to be a fornicator, but if that assumption is examined, it becomes clear that incels and fornicators are not that different from each other.

I was a successful fornicator for nearly two decades. Using both inherent abilities and acquired skill, I learned how to chat up women in just about any environment, show value, and—if a woman had attraction for me—profit with at least one instance of casual sex. It’s not exactly easy to master the art of pickup, so what do you think was constantly on my mind during these years I aimed to be a world champion fornicator? Sex. I would wake up in the morning and think of sex. I would write about sex during the day. I would think of sex when seeing women in public. I would fill my nights with the pursuit of sex, and if that failed, I would masturbate to videos of people having sex. A huge chunk of my life was dedicated to feeding my lust in order to generate the fuel to undertake the challenging task of pickup, with which I was successful enough to teach thousands of other men.

Now imagine the incel. What do you think is going on in his mind every day? Sex. He wakes up in the morning and dwells on how he desires sex but can’t get it. He masturbates vigorously to porn day and night, cursing the world for his imposed celibacy. If he doesn’t talk about sex, he’s discussing women through the lens of sex, complaining about them being sluts, dishonorable, race-mixers, or what have you. He attacks men who are successful with women and wishes for society to burn to the ground because in that case, his odds of getting sex may increase. He’s not getting laid like the fornicator, but sex is no less on his mind.

The fornicator and incel are identical in that they are held hostage by their lust. They both believe that a woman can save their lives in some way, and therefore dedicate just about their entire mental outlook to women. The only meaningful difference is that the fornicator can at least occasionally get laid due to being better looking, more persistent, or more socially calibrated, but what type of outlook did most fornicators have before learning how to get laid? That of an incel.

I was an incel in high school and college. I lusted after women and were jealous of men who got laid. Then I learned game and became a renowned fornicator, but internally I was the same, still enslaved to my lust. If anything, getting laid made me even more enslaved because I developed an addiction to the physical aspect of sex, and did not want to regress back into being a “loser” who had to masturbate alone, as if there was no other option.

Sometimes when I see a man with big muscles, I think to myself, “Where is the little boy inside?” The muscles are just an outward physical covering that doesn’t change what is happening within his soul, for any increase in confidence a bodybuilder experiences will immediately evaporate if his muscles deflate. He stays in the gym not necessarily because he enjoys it, but because he’s scared of going back to possessing a normal body and having to look at the little boy in the mirror. His confidence is false, and it’s the same with the fornicator.

When you look at a modern Don Juan, ask yourself: where is the incel inside? Where is the man who wanted his dream woman but couldn’t get her, and moved mountains to “improve” himself in order to receive the consolation prize of sex with promiscuous women? He may feel more confident now, but that confidence is totally dependent on a woman saying yes to his advances. It takes just one cold streak of no sex and the little boy will reveal himself in a frustrated panic. Whether a man sleeps with a few women or a few hundred, you will see the incel again from just a week or two of bad responses from women.

As long as you are enslaved to your lust and the intimacy you hope to receive, it matters not whether your classification is player or incel. Both are obsessed with sex, and while the player is lucky or skilled enough to participate in the carnal act, they are more similar than they would like to admit. They are both immature boys, because you cannot mature as a man if you spend your adulthood feeding your vices and being enslaved to your passions. Simply ask me how I was a 39-year-old boy, and I will tell you.

Outside of marriage, only the man who is celibate through his free will (i.e. he is a practicing Christian) is different from the fornicator and incel in both substance and spirit. The Christian man is not dependent on the responses of women to make him feel good or confident. With God’s help, he has minimized or entirely removed lust as his master to turn away from the type of sin that can lead to judgement. He is celibate because he wants to please his Creator and be a good steward of his soul, which means the demotion of his bodily desires along with other concerns of the world. Meanwhile, the fornicator or incel cannot see beyond the tips of their erections. The entire world must be framed around sexual attraction and a distorted perception of human value, just to abuse their bodies for fleeting pleasure. I know this being I lived it, publicly, for so long.

When I was in Austin, Texas, I met a man in an Orthodox church who was about the same age as me. He said that he found pickup around the time The Game came out, before I wrote my first pickup book Bang. He tried to learn game, and got a handful of dates, but was rather unsuccessful at it. Instead of turning to another game guru for help, or to pornography, he turned to God. He received God’s grace and met his wife not long after. There in the church were four of his children. How I wish at that moment that I was also bad at game! But no, I was good at it, because I was so crazed for sex that I would do everything to ensure success. Each new bang kept me in the game, and next thing I knew, eighteen years of my life had passed me by, and the only “children” I accumulated were stuffed animals in the backseat of my car.

It turns out that the incel is better off than the fornicator, because while he may be a vigorous masturbator, he does not fornicate, so he sins less in the eyes of God. He sustains less damage to his soul and is therefore closer to receiving His grace than a man who is puffed up with an unwarranted ego just because he can sleep with fallen women he meets in bars or through Tinder.

My sexual “success” gave me so much pride that I never thought I needed God to save me, but that success was actually a massive failure, down to every last bang which I have prayed to forget. These acts helped push me down such a dark pit that only direct divine intervention could lift me back up. I wish that when I was frustrated about sex, instead of turning to pickup to save me, I turned to God instead. I wish I asked Him to help me with my lust and to send me a woman if it serves His will instead of being directed by my own passions and remaining a little boy for so long.

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