Overview of the Game (Lay Pimpology I)

As with everything else in this book, this is not to be actually implemented in any way. 

I am Astar, a robot. I can put my arm back on. You can’t. So, play safe

[See How to Be a Motherfucking Pimp for full book]

You can read a lot of books about pimpin’, but you’re never going to really get a good handle on it from the literature out there. Of course there are the Iceberg Slim and Goines novels, and you can also get some firsthand accounts like From Pimp Stick to Pulpit by Bishop Don Magic Juan or Pimpin Ken’s The 48 Laws of the Game, but the problem remains, I feel, that all this still leaves one interested in this area rather unsatisfied.[1] The reason for this is that most pimps can’t read, let alone write, and the evidence is abundant. Also, if you’ve ever listened to pimps talk in real life, you’d be forgiven for thinking that more than a few are likely mentally retarded anyway. You might ask, All right then, if that’s the case, how are they doing it? Well, the Game is an elaborate machine, and most pimps only have a vague sense of how it actually works outside of its external trappings.[2] They think they know, but they don’t really.[3] This is apparent from the books that are out there, and no doubt the books that will continue to come out. They may provide a lot of color, but they lack substance. This book is different. Here I’m going to give you a quick breakdown of what the Game is, how it works and how it’s done.

 

You see, it’s called the Game because there are rules. A pimp is a man who manages women. These women are hoes. The Game is not just how the relationship between the pimps and the hoes works, but, and perhaps more importantly, it’s how pimps interoperate. Any pimp can tell you that. Right, so you ask, before you get to pimp-to-pimp relationship shit, how does this pimp-to-ho business happen? Well, to get the ball rolling, let’s consider what a ho is.

Hoes are a magical breed of creature. Money falls from their pussies. Or rather, you can think of her pussy as the goose that lays golden eggs. Be good to the goose and it will keep laying tricks, and that shit is golden. See, that’s the trick and the trick’s pockets make a nice nest for the gander, you know what I’m saying?

So what’s up, you ask. You’re just doing that meaningless and circular pimp stuff. You’re not telling me shit. No, but I will now. And the meaningless circular pimp stuff is important, along with his threads and his car. You will see, but right now we are talking about hoes. Bear with me though because this will be desultory at times, but perhaps only apparently as it is a figure appropriate to the material throughout.

The first thing to know is that although hoes are all different, they are actually all the same. They are actually all the same because, structurally, their minds are governed by the same fundamental unity that is defined through being a set of their differences. In other words, each ho is different from the next ho, but there are deep lying affinities that form a kind of common denominator. For this to make sense, check this out.

Why do hoes come to pimps? This is another structural question. It is because, nine times out of ten, they are looking for a father figure. This doesn’t mean daddy like the one she might, or might not have at home. This isn’t some weird incest like I want to fuck my dad, although she probably does on a couple levels, and in a couple senses. Rather it is something entirely different. It is the need for an authority figure. This is very different from a father, as it’s a role that the father often plays, but especially with hoes, a role he probably didn’t play. Far be it for a pimp like me to be concerned whether you think I’m being sexist referring to the necessity of a paternal agency, but what I’m talking about is something that, no matter how you try to revise it, remains descriptively paternal. She is looking not for just a man, but the man—the pimp. Often this is because The Man, in whatever guises he may take, has let her down. You see, society, the stars, fate, any number of these things, haven’t lived up to her expectations, but it is in the man that she now clings to in hope of something—something else that may not even be clearly defined. He will serve as a point of order in her otherwise volatile life. How?

The pimp is the dispenser of justice, of Pimp Law, and he makes decisions for the ho. This doesn’t mean she doesn’t know how to do shit for herself, but a ho lives in a world of uncertainty. The street is a precarious place, but most of the uncertainties a ho has are packed away in her fucked up childhood. Pimp Law is a certainty and, for whatever the fuck Pimp Law turns out to be in practice, its chief function is as an injunction. It is firm. Whether the ho needs this Pimp Law to abide by or to chafe against, what she really needs is for it to be felt. This doesn’t mean that when he tells her to do certain shit, or he beats her for some shit, that it’s right, but somewhere, deep down in the ho, she wants it, she needs it. Satisfying this, Pimp Law provides the necessary compass points for a ho. You may tell her to march north, but she’ll march south. In fact, she’s mostly likely to do that just to spite you. But, the thing is, for her to march south, she needs to know where north is in order for her to march at all.

You see, hoes are fucked up. With some hoes, even if the physical side of Pimp Law seems arbitrary, she still needs the beating irrespective of how illogical the rules and expectations are that you have set for her. In fact, sometimes she’ll push you until you beat her just because. [4] Now, on the surface, of course she doesn’t want it, but underneath it’s a different story. They are hotbeds of irrationalism and hoes often have all kinds of head issues about being bad, not deserving of love, etc. You know, all the shit that made her turn to the street in the first place. In some sick way half these hoes have signed up for the whole programme in order to self-punish, but in many ways this self-punishment only becomes validated in the ho’s eyes under the smiling watch of a pimp—the pimp paternal figure.[5] Rationally they don’t accept it, but somewhere they’re thinking it’s my fault I got raped, or it’s my fault my father used to beat my mother and left her, etc. Like I said, the truth is that often they don’t even know it themselves.

So, where do hoes come from? In this Game most of these hoes turn out to the track themselves. They are already in an advanced state of ho-ness and they need to run some laps.[6] This can be understood as a central metaphor for the business. It’s not only a game, but it’s a game that you gamble on. There are different hoes, in different stables, managed by different pimps. Since it is a game, we play by rules, but since it’s a competition, it’s also all about figuring out the angles and maintaining advantage. To stay in the Game, you gotta stay on your game. After all, when you can’t see the angles no more, you in trouble.

Now, when a ho comes to the track, the Game is already there, spread before her. It doesn’t take long for her to understand how it’s played. In fact, that is half the beauty of it. The Game is always anterior to the action.[7] To understand this, ask yourself, why do pimps act like the 70s never ended? Why is the fashion essential the same? Why is the slang and all the other trappings essentially the same?[8] It’s not just that a lot of pimps appear to live in a time warp just for the fuck of it, although I’m sure quite a few do, but rather, it’s another structural thing. Things may change, but the Game always stays the same. And there is a reason for this. It is not as though the 70s saw a crystalline perfection of the Game where its pure form is now passed from hand to hand down through posterity because of anything intrinsic to the material. Rather, what happened is something fundamentally formal. Always is.[9]

The 70s gave a definitive complexion to the Game. Blaxploitation films like The Mack, Mac and Me, [10] and Willie Dynamite served not only to popularize the pimp, but to establish the iconography of the Game. The result was a prepackaged system, abstracted from reality, commodified, and sold back to the street. In the wake of this cultural movement was founded a self-perpetuating system based on the fetishized image that, in its fixity, proved to be its very motive force. The Game became codified as is apparent in the pimp, his clothes, cars, and behavior.[11]

All this, lock stock and barrel, became the essential points of identification for all those in the Game. The pimp was made, and hoes could find their bearings in this clear ordering. Expectations were available and preceded any involvement in the Game. Pimp-to-pimp relations were generalised in their configuration. Where practices may have varied before, now there were common expectations established through a common understanding of what it meant to be in the Game. Plugging in, one becomes syntonic. In brief, the rules are the following.

A ho chooses to be a ho.[12] We aren’t circus people, we don’t kidnap girls. Superficially, hoes may come to the streets because of drugs, domestic violence or destitution. But, see, that only drove them to the streets, not to be hoes. On the surface of it hoes are understood to be with a pimp on their own free volition,[13] and the understanding is that it is a contractual arrangement entered into freely. The ho choses a pimp, and she also reserves the right to leave him and choose a different pimp if she has a mind to. The practice is that once a ho gets bumped, it is the responsibility of the pimp to serve the other pimp, to call him and let him know that his bitch has chosen to get with some new pimpin’. It ain’t no thang, but some pimps don’t take it well when they hear that one of their hoes has gone through the pimp door.[14] They have every right to try and get her back, but it’s the ho’s choice.[15] That’s how the Game is played.

However, when it’s time for a bitch to ho up, whether she’s a fresh turnout or a veteran, a ho must break herself. This means a ho has got to give up her cash to her pimp, she needs to buy into his game. This is the material aspect of the contract. A ho is only under new pimpin’ once she breaks herself, otherwise you’re going to see the basis of some real mis-pimpin’.[16] There will be more to say on this shortly. But, you wonder, why would she want to give up her money in the first place? Well, we’ve already gone over considerations of how a ho’s mind works, but we need to make more sense of the role of the pimp for the ho.

On the surface the pimp provides a number of services. He is there to protect the ho from sadistic tricks, pigs, and possibly other hoes and pimps. He manages her money, gives her guidance and sorts out her problems for her. This could be protecting her from herself when it comes to drugs or other lifestyle considerations. So, it would seem that he is there to guarantee her wellbeing, to watch over her, to be her daddy. But surely, you think, why would any ho want to sign up for a relationship where they give up all their money? And for what? Clearly, the benefits of this relationship are extremely disproportionate. Yes, but as you’ve probably already suspected, there is a lot more at work here than what meets the eye.

The pimp becomes a coordinate for a ho. Because of the anteriority of the Game that I’ve stressed, pimps are quite typically just walking clichés. This is actually very important, and a real basis of their strength, whether they know it or not. A pimp exists as a collection of codes that a ho is already attune to, just as you are.[17] The significance of these codes is not in their decipherment, but in their mystification. This is all-important. They function like a frame around a screen that invites a ho to play her own movie against. Every ho has her own movie that she wants to star in, and the pimp gives her shot at the big lights. In these ho fantasies she sees herself in and through her pimp. This can mean as many different things as there are hoes, but the themes are the same, and the movie is always a romance of some sort with a glorious, earned ending down the line that allows her to put up with current privations and quiet sufferings.

These ho-movies, as I will now call them,[18] are almost invariably about money, power, and respect.[19] The ho sees the status of her pimp as a reflection of her own. As she continues to work in the present, her eye is on the future when they’ll (she and her pimp) will be made. This future echoes in her mind with the rustle of banknotes and perhaps the pitter-patter of little feet in a light pure and sanctified.[20] Salvation is not only to be had, but a sense of social vengeance is also to be satisfied. In the ho-movie, she expects to, at a later date, sneer down on a contemptible and cold bourgeois society from a position both above and outside.[21] Her sweeping glance from this Olympian height takes in both those that she shared either bedroom or elbowroom with as well as those that she feels have rejected her.[22] It’s actually pretty sick and inevitably doomed to failure.[23]

That’s the simple part. The difficult part is to keep the ho watching the movie while just keeping it shitty enough that she doesn’t leave in the middle of it. You see, if the movie is too good, she’ll run scared.[24] Too shit, and she’ll turn off. There is no Ludovico Treatment. Hoes suffer from a mental short circuit,[25] so you’ve got to make sure the movie loops as well with no actual ending.[26] Repetition is key because if you don’t keep her in your movie, she’ll be in someone else’s.[27]

Now in this movie, the script is written, the ho is acting, but it is up to the pimp to direct it. It looks like the ho does all the work, but it has to be done through the pimp for it to be of any value, whether she understands it or not. Pimpin’ ain’t easy.[28] As director, he has to be master. When a pimp calls out, it is always, and only, a ho that responds.[29] This is the casting call, and this is partly why hoes are always spoken for.[30] The pimp stands up for her, he represents her to others and, more importantly, to herself. The pimp makes the ho, and she loves him for it. In the pimp she sees power, control, and flamboyance—she loves in the pimp what she wants to love in herself. But again, distance has to be maintained or there is no movie.

But, you might ask, if there has to be a movie, why does it seem like a porno? What makes a ho want to fuck for money? Why doesn’t a pimp just collect girls like this, structure their lives like this, and run a sweatshop or something? I guess one could, but only to an extent. You see, there are certain key ingredients that are necessary in order to maintain the delicate equipoise of the ho/pimp symbiosis.[31] Victimising women may be easy, but doing it well is an art.

Now, why sex? Well, a ho is usually pretty fucked up and needs validation on a couple of levels. It might be trite to claim that they turnout to the track in part because they have no real employable skills for mainstream occupations, or at least not the kind where they think they can make any actual money, but there is element of truth to it. More importantly, however, and central to what makes a ho, is an insatiable hunger for cock, but this is not quite in the vulgar way you may be thinking.

Hoes need cock. They love it and they hate it. A cock lifts a worthless ho up and confers value on her. It’s also a symbol of her oppression. You’ll find that hoes are very conflicted. As much as they ‘love’ their pimp, you’ll find nine times out of ten that their actual sexual preference is for pussy, that’s if they have a genuine sexual preference at all once sex has become whitewashed and mechanical in an act of pure industry. [32]  Lesbianism is always a pathological response to something.[33]

Bitches, all bitches, court cock. Everything they do is to get a rise out of it.[34] The shit they wear, the ridiculous and incessant contrived selfies that they take.[35] Everything. A bitch is one hundred percent image and no substance.[36] As soon as she gives up the pussy, she fears the mystery is gone, and the cock will turn elsewhere. Smart bitches intuit this and hold out, while stupid bitches become sluts, crawling around for the next cock to validate her. A smart bitch knows it’s all a sham. Behind the hair and the makeup there is just a bitch. There is the old adage, no matter how hot she is, someone, somewhere is tired of her shit. This is true. Once past the veneer, the pussy has been given up and seen for what it is, a gaping hole in the center of her being, the bitch has nothing. This is where she tries to interpose something akin to a personality, something that you might mistake as worthy of affection.

The real bitch knows to stay aloof. She is a cock tease.[37] Her beauty is her mystery and, if she gives the pussy up, she is cunning enough to recognise the need to continually transform herself in order to maintain allure.[38] This is the trick of a good bitch.[39] By doing this not only does she remain desirable, but she becomes an object of desire that creates even more desire.[40] In this way a man is proud of his bitch, she is hot and this reflects favourably on him. Now he can legitimately ‘love’ her, but he should realise, that at the end of the day, she is still just a bitch.[41]

Now, the ho is similar to the slutty version of a bitch, just to the nth degree. She probably started life humbly as a slut, but as the hole in her soul and pelvis has widened, she has taken to different measures that do not require mystery or constant renewal. The ho expects to be treated like shit, but yet she still needs to find some kind of validation. Not only do they achieve it in the traditional way with the pimp outlined above, but something else is at work here. By bestowing their pussies upon paying strangers, the hard cocks that probe her are transmuted into hard currency. This is actually a thing of great beauty as it becomes the site of capital accumulation.[42]

In this sublime act the ho turns cocks into money. She may still harbor feelings of resentment about being used and defiled by penetrating cocks, [43]  but she is able to gather and collected all these little cocks and turn them it into Cock. This is the giant cock in the sky that she can reel back and marvel at in stupefied awe. It is the order of the cosmos and will come to sustain her. This is the basic formula: Cock = money. They are one and the same, but you need to keep the ho focused on this profound truth. Moreover, you have to show her how to use Cock and to teach her its true value.[44]

The ho gives Cock to the pimp. Actually, he fucks it out of her, but not with his dick. The pimp walks around with this giant strap on. It is the clothes he wears, the car he drives.[45] It is salvific for the ho who would otherwise be reduced to a series of sexual acts and dollar bills.[46] The ho worships this Cock, the Cock that tranquilizes her anxieties. It represents her absolution and redemption, the masked surplus value that would otherwise be untenable.[47] This is Cock that will not harm,[48] that allows her to find value and identity through a vicarious relation with the pimp. Cock becomes the screen necessary for the ho-movie.

Sadly, it is time now to leave such lofty considerations. On a practical level, this is why it is so important for a ho to break herself. Besides this symbol of love, by trying to help prop up the pimp’s Cock,[49] there are a couple reason why a pimp needs the money before he’ll fuck her. First of all, this cements the entrance into voluntary agreement. But unlike where the exchange of money serves to neutralise the relationship for the ho beyond service rendered with the trick, [50] by paying the pimp, the ho has to keep working.[51] The right for the ho to bask in the glory of Cock is not freely given, but must be earned.[52] It is what keeps the pimp fixed firmly in his position as pimp while allowing her to keep the ho-movie running in her head. In this way the pimp doesn’t fall to the wayside like a trick, and the necessary distance between himself and the ho is maintained. It may be a platitude, but like Dj Quick said, If it don’t make dollaz, it don’t make sense.[53] Remember, there is nothing more ugly than a pimp and a ho entangled in an embrace.[54] You never want to be soft in the zipper.[55]

Now we come back to pimp-to-pimp relations, which will see us return to Pop Pontius and Caesar Slick in a minute. This relationship is extremely important for the uniformity necessary for the efficacy of the Game. As intimated above, it is not the particular form of the Game that makes it work. Historically it could have been construed in any number of guises, but what is important is that it is fundamentally consistent and internally coherent over time.[56] For this to happen, or rather to keep happening, the pimp needs to know the role that he plays. No pimp is an island. Even if the pimp is the quintessential open market capitalist, he needs an economy to work in. This doesn’t just mean a product and a consumer, because for either of these to exist, there need to be market conditions through which they are articulated and rendered meaningful. In this regard, pimp-to-pimp relations serve not just for regulatory purposes, but they create the whole grid that both allows for a certain type of product while facilitating its market dynamic. This isn’t fully intentional and a brief anecdote might suffice.

Pimps are like shepherds. Each one is doing essentially the same thing in the same way. Some may fuck their sheep more than others,[57] but you will find consistency across their practice, and there is always a demand for wool. In this anarchic pastoral you know there is a shepherd with another flock in the next valley, and you respect that, but if you see a lost little lamb, you’ll quickly scoop it up. Everything is not bucolic. If another shepherd starts really trying to fuck with your sheep, you’re going to come at him. It’s much the same with the pimp, except there is more civility. If a pimp knocks one of your hoes, he should have the courtesy to serve you. This gives you a chance to win her back. This is what makes a pimp a truly civilized man, and we would do well to make one more observation on this point.

Now, in principle pimps operate in the light of mutual respect. The lifestyle brings cohesion and shared identity that in turn helps to maintain the conditions necessary for the Game. These established patterns of behavior are what is so important to the pimp on the level of individual practice addressed above. Emblematic of this feedback loop is the Players’ Ball. Although representations of the pimp in popular culture have come to serve the same purpose, the Players’ Ball is still culturally significant. Not only is it the high water mark street culture, it represents the Laissez-faire and civilizing force of free association. Ostensibly, pimps come together in a gala event to out pimp each other and, although a spirit of competition is maintained, the truth is that it is a fraternal gathering of the like-minded. The pimp of the year is chosen, and all pay homage to outstanding work performed in the field. Here pimps parade their hoes, associate, and rejoice. It is where essential codes are rearticulated in fashion, behavior, and culture. It is a sight to behold.

 

[See How to Be a Motherfucking Pimp for full book}

[1] Often one’s only recourse is to supplementary literature. Many pimps maintain that Machiavelli is indispensable and has helped form their outlook. That and Sun Tzu. Although I question how many have read either, or have done so to any profit. Regardless, I have found Montesquieu and The Protocols of the Elders of Zion to be infinitely more rewarding reading.

[2] As you will see, in many ways this is all they need.

[3] Their existence as a pimp is only symptomatic of material, preëxisting conditions. This will become clear in a moment.

[4] “Every woman adores a fascist, the boot in the face.” A pimp and a Nazi are similar in that they both command a certain fascination, a certain eroticism indispensable for a ho and most bitches. Bitches love to hate domestic violence.

[5] In this way she is disciplined as a naughty girl. This is important for her to rebalance her moral ledger. More importantly, however, she sees the sadistic glean in the eye of her pimp as he gives her thirty-nine stripes. She sees his energy and commitment to the exercise. She is interested in his interest in her. As she begs and he spares her the last lash, she can see that he cares. The significance here is that she is not being ground to dust by the impersonal world, but by a man with enigmatic desires. The pimp who stops at the last stipe teaches the ho that she does indeed have value no matter how slight. He shows her both that there are limits and that, on some level, he accepts her. Maybe not as a person, but he accepts her.

[6] In a latter section I’m going to tell you how you make a ho. How you bring her from pre-ho-ness to full on ho-ness. Betty was in a state of pre-ho-ness, but now you might be beginning to see that this can actually go back another stage. And yes, that ‘earlier’ stage is what you could consider a normal girl. And yes, you can make her a ho, but you need skill and you need to be a real mutherfucker. If you like, later you can follow me down the rabbit hole.

[7] Like The Blind Man told Goldie, “The game is out there, Goldie, waiting for you. You can be a player.”

[8] “Essentially”. There is a diachronic dimension, beyond immediate participation, that drags change through the configurations, but this is gradual and the Game is peculiarly resistant. Or instance, it informs, and is informed by, hip hop culture.

[9] Unless you’re one of those people that consider themselves post-formalists. You will see, Dazzle Razzle ultimately becomes something beyond either rubric.

[10] Mac and Me might not be from the 70s, but it’s definitely about pimpin’. Its exploitation of E.T. and aggressive product placement is an inspiration for the inclusion here of the pepper sauce called Jah Rastafari Hell Fyah. Now this is motherfucking pimp.

[11] Prior to this the pimp game was alive and healthy, but its strength resided in microstructures and grassroots interests. Commonalities existed, but regionalisms and localisms were the order of the day.

[12] Although this may seem like a tautology, its truth is only amplified by its inextricable circularity. To choose is already to make a choice from the place in which we find he who chooses. The track sticks to a ho faster not only than the tortoise, but Achilles. In fact, if she looks down she is only going to see turtles, though she can hold out hope for a tortoise nonetheless.

[13] Free volition is not redundant. If anything, perhaps a contradiction as is seen in the above pimpnote. Still, these require qualifications that are too tedious to entertain here. All in due course. Really, though, see PIMP a(e)s(thic)s: Motherfucking.

[14] The pimp door is the circulation of hoes amongst pimps. It happens quite frequently and is part of the ecology of the Game. This has already been addressed in an earlier pimpnote about The Cow Door.

[15] If you are doing it properly, as you’ve probably already inferred, there isn’t really a ‘choice’ to be made. This quality of pimping was even known by the ancients. As Lao Tzu said,

生之、畜之,生而不有,為而不恃,長而不宰,是謂玄德。

[16] Mis-pimpin’ is either bad practice or intentionally trying to mislead another pimp by feeding him misinformation or some such.

[17] As you probably have already noticed, this is actually a form of pimp maieutics.

[18] Celluloid emulsions that animate the dead, so to speak.

[19] Something of this sort takes place in The Mack when Goldie takes his hoes it the planetarium in order to sell his vision to them. In a similar consideration, the ho standpoint couldn’t be better summed up than from the horse’s mouth. Lil’ Kim was a ho (the past tense is used because, if she’s not dead, at least here career is) and she said, “See I believe in money, power, and respect.” You can immediately see that this is delusional. That’s not to say it isn’t true at some level. You will see.

[20] Perhaps the Protestant work ethic at its most pure.

[21] Obviously this will never happen. When a ho’s slot is worn-out, she is manumitted. It can be an early retirement, but it can also be an early grave.

[22] This ‘bourgeois society’ is that which she has rejected and has rejected her. Yet it still succeeds in holding her enthralled, transfixed.

[23] A lot of hoes when they get used up just seem to disappear. Some seem to turn into junkies, others get into more-or-less normal, turbulent relationships with one-time tricks or, more typically, other dregs of society. While I suspect that a high suicide rate accounts the remainder. I asked an actuary, but he said there is no standard mortality for hoes. In terms of their value, when they are dead you could say that they have over matured. This is ho a-mo(u)r-tization.

[24] Although, as you recall, she needs an instrument for self-punishment as the ho is not emotionally equipped for true acceptance. She needs Pimp Law and the pleasurable pain that it brings. The ho can only circle around what could be considered happiness, as true happiness would be the end. Like mainlining speedballs into your neck.

[25] Or, perhaps better, they’re in a rut.

[26] As Ian Curtis said, “love will tear us apart again.” Again and again. This is the dejoined conjoin. Ho-movies have to be B movies, fascinating, but with shitty plots spliced and re-spliced like Monster a Go-Go or Plan 9 from Outer Space. Try running the like back to back for the captivating, deadly incoherence of a Mystery Science Theater 3000 scenario. Some hoes appreciate this with a certain wry, detached humor. This can be an important ironical stance.

[27] This is the Cop and Blow.

[28] A truism needlessly, but aesthetically, inscribed in the Big Daddy Kane track. Picking up the theme, but falling short, is the R Kelly/Snoop track of the same name. Clearly, it has a lot of cultural currency.

[29] As Too $hot said, “Say ho. Ya you. Can I ask you a question? Can ya get in where you fit in, biatch?” Part of its charm is the chiasmus. The first two sentence reveal the truth. The second two are a pleonastic flourish. Vocative to interrogative. They give the illusion of autonomy and self-determination. However, as Petronius said, if you’re a Lucretia, you’ve found a Tarquin.

[30] Εθελων εθελουσαν ανηγαγεν. Forget the ornament, forget the diacritics.

[31] This is the sell. Obviously, this is not a mutually beneficial relationship as it is marked by predation. However, the pimp does provide a valuable service for the irredeemably fucked up ho. The finger of fault may be more fairly pointed at the pimp that corrupts a seemingly innocent girl. However, the operative term here is ‘seemingly’.

[32] In my experience, this preference for pussy is usually either the result of some kind of early sexual trauma at the hands of a man, or a turning toward women for some kind of relationship that she has been frustrated in her attempts to find with a man. I term these stable vices, but effectively managed they can be profitable.

[33] Indeed. Prima facie lesbians seem to have a clear agenda, but upon inspection it becomes a muddle. This is because lesbians are an unknown quantity. Fueled by anger, their designs are enigmatic and incoherent. However, this all changes when it acculturates to known patterns such as Trick in Shining Armor Complex. Consider the following by Sophie Hawkins, “That old dog has chained you up all right, give you everything you need to live inside a twisted cage… I had a dream I was your hero. Damn I wish I was your lover… make sure you are smiling and warm. I am everything. Tonight I’ll be your mother. I’ll do such things to ease your pain [etc. etc].” The elisions were for economy. The whole song could be instanced verbatim. This is lesbianism in a groove.

[34] Zorba the Greek has identified this as the central feminine mechanism. Behold, “A woman has nothing else in view. She’s a sickly creature, I tell you, and fretful. If you don’t tell her you love and want her, she starts crying. Maybe she doesn’t want you at all, maybe you disgust her, maybe she says no. That’s another story. But all men who see her must desire her. That’s what she wants.”

[35] As Jeru the Damaja said, “Ya Playin’ Yaself.” The process only begins with selfies. Photoshop is a known counterpart.

[36] That’s why André 3000 says, “Shake it like a Polaroid picture.” Very true, and as Zorba said, “let a woman give away her earrings, her trinkets, her scented cakes of soap, her little bottles of lavender-water?…If she gives all that, it’s all up with the world!”

[37] The best example of the intensity possible in this mysterious allure might be felt in a society where women are expected to be largely covered. The slightest glimpse of wanton flesh can excite great scenes of uncontrollable lust while offering the licence to rape. No harm, no foul as any indignation felt by concerned parties can be satisfied with a stoning and honor restored.

[38] This is clear from Kim Kardashian and Pamela Anderson. Their sex tapes killed the allure. People were talking about Tommy Lee’s dick and the zits on Kim’s ass. However, both hoes were able to reinvent themselves. Pam changed cup sizes a couple of times and Kim began reinventing herself on reality TV and a frivolous and sustained use of social media. A similar strategy saw her marry Kanye West. Superficial and likely homosexual, he has no interest to move beyond image. Kim is safe, Pam has hepatitis. Perhaps Johnny Rotten was a touch prescient when he said, “Public image, you got what you wanted. The public image belongs to me. It’s my entrance, my own creation. My grand finale, my goodbye.”

[39] This reinvention is important for, as Zorba said, “Woe betided the woman who could sleep with a man and who did not do so.”

[40] Usually so perceptive in affairs of the heart, this is where Cohen is wrong when he asks, “Let me see your beauty when all the witnesses are gone.”

[41] For Zorba says, “they’re all weak creatures who don’t know what they’re doing and surrender on the spot if you just catch hold of their breasts.”

[42] Not only that, but it sanctifies so that it is anything but filthy lucre. It is the beautiful reification of social labor and relations. Since the pussy has immeasurable use value, it needs to be tapped for exchange. Sky’s the limit. The vagina is the philosopher’s stone. Still, although appreciative of the abundance, not everyone see is it in this pristine light. Later I will tell you how to launder money so that no one can take issue.

[43] A resentment, or ressentiment, that I find often gives ways to a compromise satisfaction in what I have come to call ‘ho malice’. Ho malice is the perverted kick that a ho gets in fucking a trick that she suspects of having a normal or otherwise envious life. In this way she is sustained in the hope that he has a quietly suffering wife at home. She likes to think to herself, See, nobody’s perfect. You’re all a bunch of depraved bastards, and yet you fuckers have the gall look down on me? Fuck your wife, your dog, your white picket fence, and your 1.3 children. I’ll see you all in hell sooner than you think.

[44] *Editorial note* this passage instances jargon that will find different elaborations elsewhere. This will be an ongoing indulgence asked of the reader.

[45] In this way it is the money, power and respect that the ho is concerned with and so too must the pimp. Like The Blind Man said, “A pimp is only as good as his product, and his product is women. Now you’ve got to go out there and get the best ones you can find. And you’ve got to work them broads like nobody’s ever worked them before.” The ho is instrumental in sustaining Cock. In part, this is why you have to get your name to ring.

[46] I have heard this argument being strongly made as a reason against renegades. Renegades deny themselves the job satisfaction that a pimp affords. Without the pimp, there is no spiritual level and despondency often soon gives way to suicide. This is why hoes need to get with the Game and not fuck around on the periphery.

[47] Truly untenable. See the above pimpnote. Dollar bills without Cock are a debased currency in this context. In a way, it is a form of money laundering. The conventional way will be addressed later.

[48] Cock won’t, but the pimp certainly will.

[49] Prop up indeed. Verily, a pimp is not a pimp without hoes. He needs his stable. This is also how he has Cock, but you can see the circularity. Where to begin? Assume the image. Remember, it is all image.

[50] Galen was most certainly correct when he said, “triste est omne animal post coitum, praeter mulierem GALLUMque.” If money neutralizes the relation for the ho to the trick, it is because the ho sees it as a complete service rendered. Not so with the trick. Often, even if he doesn’t want to see the ho again, he still wants to think that what he bought he keeps. In other words, ya he fucks her and chucks her, but he likes to think that she’ll remember him. Something about his charm or the pleasure he thinks he might have given her will stay with her. You never know, he thinks. Maybe every once in a while, when she is gloomily smoking crack in a stairwell, she gets to thinking about a future with him that could have been if the world were a different place. This is often the most subdued form of the Trick in Shining Armor Complex.

[51] The movement of cash from hand to hand shows the same relationship. Just as the trick is to the ho, the ho is to the pimp. The giver is the only one ever to be entangled as obligation is only contractually limited at the point of receipt. This is commerce, it has the opposite logic of the gift.

[52] It is a ‘gift’ of love, which is a tautology. Sometimes violence is a gift of love too. This is truly poetic. As Flyguy’s inspired composition Bitch Better Have My Money ran: “My bitch better have my money/ Through rain, sleet or snow./ Not half, not some,/ But all my cash./ Because if she don’t, /I’m gonna put my foot/ Dead in her ass.” This is the gift that keeps on giving, sampled widely, but memorably by AMG.

[53] Similarly, MF Doom said, “I sell rhymes like dimes.” That’s either as liquid money, or near liquid dimes of weed. Either way, it both rhymes and makes sense, illustrating that meaning and money are correlated. More on this later.

[54] This can be what is called pimp aphanisis. As Tom Scholz said, “I closed my eyes and I slipped away.”

[55] Similarly, Earl the Black Pearl called it “having a tender dick.” Soft in the zipper is a pimp that’s inclined to fuck his hoes. This is a no-no. Hoes must be fucked strategically, to keep them on point. If you want to be a pimp because you think you’ll just be lying around fucking hoes, then you’re in the wrong business, and you’ll soon be outta business. Like Pretty Tony said, “That nigga wanted the honey. All we wants is the money.”

[56] Obviously, different forms of prostitution and its management have existed over time with differing historical conditions. Like The Blind Man said, “it’s been going on since the beginning of time and it’s gonna continue straight ahead until somebody up there turns out the lights on this small planet.” This is true, but remember that the Game is not just any old prostitution. The Game, and its mythology, is an entirely different animal and that is what we are concerned with here.

[57] Bae, if you like.