2. C. She claimed she didn't want to be "greedy" that is often code for sex.
Where can I learn more about language code like this?
D. VII: Therefore, you entered into a formal contract that implied having sex in exchange for what was provided because the female was most likely treating you what the maximum amount of her clout could provide, and you were complicit in creating a tit-for-tat or exchange system because you were willing to give a tip.
I see how I created the dynamic by offering anything more than my time. I think I was talking faster than I was thinking on that night.
5. G. Scholium: Look up expectation. I think that Grinus may have posted something about it called Briffault's law in the treasure chest or precious gems section. When I've been taken out for dinner, I've never given a tip when the other person was paying unless they were my friend and there was already an agreement in place.See the logic of why she tripped out? If it isn't obvious to you then expand on the logic.
viewtopic.php?p=19091#p19091
Yea I see she tripped out because after doing what she did, I didnt give her anything. And when I told her to come see me, she wanted to know if she was gonna get her benefits.
Since you didn't have sex with her that night. You should have had sex with her at next opportunity that arrived because she maxed out her clout giving ability. When a woman is performing to the best of her ability, it is a no-no to fizzle her out. You must amp her up. That is why your second best option would have been to go near the point of sex and then give reasons why you shouldn't do it.
Can you guess why?
I could tell that she was maxing out. It would have made her believe I wanted to max her out too but we should wait. If she was amped up a little more, She would have made more of an effort for a next time where she would hopefully get her prize.I would have never had to tell her to come on.
Now the funny thing is that she messaged me last week on facebook, so i texted her. I will update soon.
Calm down.
Maybe it's how I read your message, but everything just feels urgent.
Time will teach you about the language that women use. You only need to close your mouth and open your ears. Everything else will fall into place.
Spend some more time on the boards and learn how to process the game that women give you.
Every man has different game and picks up on different things. That's why women give so many signals in different ways. Why? Every man has been trained differently by women.
Look for your path and guidance.
I would forget about this female. If my feeling is correct then she will prove to be worth less than the time you spent with her over dinner last time. Not every female that turns up after going AWOL is a good prospect.
Just because a female is in the prime condition of someone who is waiting does not mean that their core identity has changed at all. Think about that.
If you want to pursue the route you have taken then drop all your expectations. Follow her path and see where it ends. Sex is not always the best route and neither are gifts.
Below is an insightful explanation into the philosophy of gift-giving, the quintessential relationship between a pimp and a prostitute.
If you want a more thorough explanation than you should look up Derrida for yourself and work through his philosophy. I cannot remember what philosophical work of Derrida where this philosophy was espoused, but with some due diligence you can find the original source and get the complete arguments.
http://www.leithart.com/archives/002003.php
GIVEN TIME
Derrida begins his treatment of gift-giving (in Given Time: I. Counterfeit Money) with a distinction between gift and economy: "One cannot treat the gift, this goes without saying, without treating this relation to economy, even to the money economy. But is not the gift, if there is any, also that which interrupts economy? That which, in suspending economic calculation, no longer gives rise to exchange? That which opens the circle so as to defy reciprocity or symmetry, the common measure, and so as to turn aside the return in view of the no-return? If there is gift, the given of the gift (that which one gives, that which is given, the gift as given thing or as act of donation) must not come back to the giving (let us not already say to the subject, to the donor). It must not circulate, it must not be exchanged, it must not in any case be exhausted, as a gift, by the process of exchange, by the movement of circulation of the circle in the form of return to the point of departure. If the figure of the circle is essential to economics, the gift must remain aneconomic. Not that it remains foreign to the circle, but it must keep a relation of foreignness to the circle, a relation without relation of familiar foreignness. It is perhaps in this sense that the gift is impossible. Not impossible but the impossible. The very figure of the impossible."
There are several critical movements here. Derrida begins with the contrast between the gift and the circle, simply taking this contrast as an unargued given – "this goes without saying." As Milbank points out, this is completely a concession to the modern and capitalist "reduction of exchange to contract." He observes that "exchanges are not necessarily economic, and not necessarily of a legally formalized kind, acknowledging only contractual encounters. Nevertheless, exchange has been reduced to the economic and legally formalized in our capitalist society." This is an overstatement, but the point remains that Derrida has universalized what is a contingent development in Western history. Milbank suggests that what distinguishes gift and economic exchange is not the "absolute freedom and non-binding character of the gift" but instead "the surprisingness and unpredictability of gift and counter-gift, or their character in space as asymmetrical reciprocity, and their character in time as non-identical repetition."
Why the impossible? Derrida argues that the conditions of possibility for the gift (ie, that someone gives something to some other) are "simultaneously the conditions of the impossibility of the gift." The very structure and possibility of the gift "define or produce the annulment, the annihilation, the destruction of the gift." A gift cannot "be what it was except on the condition of not being what it was."
Why? A gift requires that there by no "reciprocity, return, exchange, countergift, or debt. If the other gives me back or owes me or has to give me back what I give him or her, there will not have been a gift, whether this restitution is immediate or whether it is programmed by a complex calculation of a long-term deferral or differance. This is all too obvious if the other, the donee, gives me back immediately the same thing." For there to be a gift at all requires that "the donee not give back, amortize, reimburse, acquit himself, enter into a contract, and that he never have contracted a debt." Thus "It is . . . necessary, at the limit, that he not recognize the gift as gift. If he recognizes it as gift, if the gift appears to him as such, if the present is present to him as present, this simply recognition suffices to annul the gift." This is because "it gives back, in the place, let us say, of the thing itself, a symbolic equivalent." Recognition precedes gratitude, but for a recipient it is enough to perceive the "intentional meaning of the gift, in order for this simple recognition of the gift as gift, as such, to annul the gift as gift even before recognition becomes gratitude." Thus, "At the limit, the gift as gift ought not appear as gift, either to the donee or the donor. It cannot be gift as gift except but not being present as gift."
Not only the recipient, but the giver must not recognize gift as gift: "the one who gives it must not see or know it either; otherwise he begins, at the threshold, as soon as he intends to give, to pay himself with a symbolic recognition, to praise himself, to approve of himself, to gratify himself, to congratulate himself, to give back to himself symbolically the value of what he thinks he has given or what he is preparing to give." In short, the gift loses its gift character as soon as it is recognized as such by the giver or the recipient; but without this recognition, the gift is not a gift either, because there is no intention of giving on the giver's part nor a recognition of reception on the receiver's part. In short, "the simple intention to give, insofar as it carries the intentional meaning of the gift, suffices to make a return payment to oneself."
For a true gift to be given, there must be an absolute forgetfulness on the part of both the giver and recipient. When Derrida says that the gift cannot be kept without ceasing to be a gift, he also means "the keeping in the Unconscious, memory, the putting into reserve or temporalization as effect of repression. For there to be a gift, not only must the donor or donee not perceive the gift as such, have no consciousness of it, no memory, no recognition; he or she must also forget it right away [a l'instant] and moreover this forgetting must be so radical that it exceeds even the psychoanalytic categorality of forgetting. . . . we are speaking here of an absolute forgetting – a forgetting that also absolves, that unbinds absolutely and infinitely more, therefore, than excuse, forgiveness, or acquittal." Yet, this forgetfulness is not nothing, a mere "non-experience": "For there to be a gift event . . . something must come about or happen, in an instant, in an instant that no doubt does not belong to the economy of time, in a time without time, but also in such a way that this forgetting, without being something present, presentable, determinable, sensible or meaningful, is not nothing."
Try a thought experiment to clarify the point: Sleepwalking Harry hands flowers to comatose Alice. Has a gift been given? There is an exchange, but both parties are unconscious of the exchange. We'd hardly think that there is a gift here, since we think of the intention to give as a constituent element of giving. So, the condition for the possibility of a gift is that Harry wake up and Alice come out of her coma; but as soon as they do that, they both recognize that a gift is being given, and this destroys the giftedness of the gift. So the conditions of the possibility of the gift are also the conditions of its destruction. The gift is impossible, the impossible.
Gifts can only be given to those who are wholly other. If there is some pre-existing bond – familial, political, economic, even friendliness – then the gift does not arise spontaneously as a gift, and is no gift at all.
GIFT AND TIME
This structure of the gift is also, Derrida argues, the structure of being and of time. Being "gives itself to be thought on the condition of being nothing (no present-being, no being-present)," while time "even in what is called its 'vulgar' determination, from Aristotle to Heidegger, is always defined in the paradoxia or rather the aporia of what is without being, of what is never present or what is only scarcely and dimly."
Derrida also considers the gift in relation to time, working from the punning connection of present-gift and present-time. One the one hand, time destroys the gift "through keeping, restitution, reproduction, the anticipatory expectation or apprehension that grasps or comprehends in advance." On the other hand, time is the only true gift. The only gift that truly qualifies as gift, Derrida says, is the gift of nothing, and this means fundamentally the gift of time: The only present is the present moment, the nothing, the no-space, the not-duration that does not exist as the future makes its way into the past. David Hart again: "The ontological import of this line of reflection is that in the end the only gift is the radical nongift of time, the present moment, that is nothing at all but the nihilating passage of time from future to past, the dissolution of being in its manifestation of temporality: the gift is the es gibt of being, or the empty yielding of the chora, the effect of nothing, the pure giving of nothing (the present) to no one, whose delay is endlessly deferred toward that difference – that reciprocation of the gift – that can never be given, never owned, never desired. The gift is no gift: the present that is not (a) present."
Derrida himself speaks in terms of the gift and the event, and insists that the event that is gift, the gift that is event, must be unancticipated, unexpected, unconditioned, unforeseen to be gift; the gift event must be "irruptive, unmotivated – for example, disinterested. They are decisive and they must therefore tear the fabric, interrupt the continuum of a narrative that nevertheless they call for, they must perturb the order of causalities: in an instant." Gift and even "obey nothing, except perhaps principles of disorder, that is, principles without principles."
DERRIDA AND GRATITUDE
Having problematized the gift, he also problematizes the other side of the exchange – gratitude – and for some of the same reasons. In an essay on Levinas, he discusses his debt to Levinas and considers the appropriate forms of thanks that might be offered. Derrida insists that the only way to give Levinas his proper due is to give him "faulty" thanks. Drawing on Levinas's concept of the "Saying" v. the "Said" (Saying = the face-to-face encounter with the Other that cannot be captured by language of ontology – cannot be Said), Derrida argues that "it is only . . . if there remains ingratitude on his part, that the ethical Saying can be maintained. Without ingratitude, if the giving of thanks were 'faultless,' it would simply celebrate the Said of Levains's text, affronting Levinas's idea that the ethical relation is 'beyond' knowledge by claiming, in fact, to know and like Levinas's work. Thus, Derrida works to 'give wrongly' his thanks to Levinas so as to avoid betraying the ethical structure of Levinas's work" – to keep the Other from collapsing into the Same (this a summary from an article by Miriam Bankovsky).
Derrida's thanks is faulty in three ways. First, it "misdirects" thanks because it does not offer thanks directly to Levinas. This is necessarily the case since "the event [of gift] that obligates the response is no longer present at the moment in which thanks is given." He explains this in terms of a statement of Levinas concerning the obligation to respond to the Other: "He will have obligated" (il aura oblige), a future perfect that cannot be captured or located in time. Second, Derrida's thanks is not pure thanks, but only a partial and hence ungrateful thanks. That is to say, Derrida does not simply repeat Levinas but criticizes and seeks to improve on him. He must do this if he is going to be thoroughly Levinasian, if he is going to open the Levinasian text to its "Other." But this means that his thanks cannot be undiluted, pure thanks.
Finally, Derrida says that in "returning 'thanks,' he, in effect, returns property to Levinas and no longer gives a 'gift' of thanks." By committing a fault in thanks, Derrida wants to ensure that he does not simply return "the Same" to Levinas. But Levinas has already written in a way that disrupts the Same by the Other in an encounter of Saying. And this means that precisely by avoiding returning "the Same" to Levinas, Derrida is copying Levinas's method. Derrida sees a trap here: "Beyond any possible restitution, there would be need for my gesture to operate without debt, in absolute ingratitude. The trap is that I then pay homage, the only possible homage, to his work, to what his work says of the Work."
Derrida undermines gratitude in several other respects as well. Thanks might be given by praising the work of Levinas in a way that assumes a full context and a "dominant interpretation" of Levinas's work, but that is impossible because of "the indeterminacy of 'context' in a given temporal moment." A dominant interpretation immanentizes the eschaton, encloses interpretation in a final context. Derrida's sense of failure in giving thanks does not lead to resignation but is an "incentive to undertake ethical Work" (Bankovsky). The face-to-face encounter is what drives all ethical work in art, culture, and politics. And that means that the impossibility of gratitude drives ethics as much as the impossibility of gift.
CONCLUSION
Without attempting to fully engage Derrida's position here, let me cite a couple of criticisms from David Hart. He points out that the whole argument is guided by "the altogether doctrinaire premise that goes unexamined in such reflections," namely, "that purity of intention is what assures the gratuity of the gift, and that purity is assured by complete disinherit, defying recognition and reciprocation alike." He wonders if Derrida has "uncritically succumbed to a Kantian . . . rigorism that requires an absolute distinction of duty from desire," but suggests that if Kant is not lurking nearby it is difficulty to explain why "the thought of the gift [must] be confined to so narrow a moral definition of gratuity or selflessness, purged of desire."
Perhaps more fundamentally, Hart discerns in Derrida's stress on the intention of gift a notion of "the priority of a subjectivity that possesses a moral identity prior to the complex exchanges of moral practices, of gift and gratitude." Finally, he wonders whether a selflessness devoid of desire is so far from hate: "Would there not be something demonic in a love without enchantment, without a desire for the other, a longing to dwell with and be recognized by the other?"