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The Game: Penetrating the Secret Society of Pickup Artists
The Game: Penetrating the Secret Society of Pickup Artists
The Game: Penetrating the Secret Society of Pickup Artists
eBook659 Seiten10 Stunden

The Game: Penetrating the Secret Society of Pickup Artists

Bewertung: 4 von 5 Sternen



Über dieses E-Book

Hidden somewhere, in nearly every major city in the world, is an underground seduction lair. And in these lairs, men trade the most devastatingly effective techniques ever invented to charm women. This is not fiction. These men really exist. They live together in houses known as Projects. And Neil Strauss, the bestselling author and journalist, spent two years living among them, using the pseudonym Style to protect his real-life identity. The result is one of the most explosive and controversial books of the last decade—guaranteed to change the lives of men and transform the way women understand the opposite sex forever.

On his journey from AFC (average frustrated chump) to PUA (pick-up artist) to PUG (pick-up guru), Strauss not only shares scores of original seduction techniques but also has unforgettable encounters with the likes of Tom Cruise, Britney Spears, Paris Hilton, Heidi Fleiss, and Courtney Love. And then things really start to get strange—and passions lead to betrayals lead to violence. The Game is the story of one man's transformation from frog to prince to prisoner in the most unforgettable book of this generation.

Erscheinungsdatum1. Mai 2012
The Game: Penetrating the Secret Society of Pickup Artists

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The Game: Penetrating the Secret Society of Pickup Artists
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Neil Strauss

NEIL STRAUSS is an award-winning writer for Rolling Stone and the author or coauthor of ten New York Times bestsellers. He splits his time between Los Angeles and wherever the Jonas Brothers are.

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Bewertung: 3.880952380952381 von 5 Sternen

126 Bewertungen23 Rezensionen

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  • Bewertung: 3 von 5 Sternen
    I think the book was a bit amusing, just because the men it's about really makes this game into some sort of a secret society, a cult. I found myself thinking and hoping that there are more than games and sexual behaviors going on in these boys mind and that there are woman out there, who can see through the game or even play themselves.
  • Bewertung: 4 von 5 Sternen
    4 stars for it being so well written.. but... WTF? I spent most of the book shaking my head. These men are freakin serious about picking up women. On the one hand, it's good that they're improving themselves.. nothing like a little de-geeking to help a guy become more social, but... damn!
  • Bewertung: 3 von 5 Sternen
    Hilarious and depressing. Hilarious because the lengths these guys will go to score are absurd and the stories will make you laugh despite yourself. Strauss's description of this underground world of pickup artists makes them look pathetic. But seriously, is this what the American male has been reduced to?
  • Bewertung: 3 von 5 Sternen
    This guy took his research way to seriously! The story was interesting but the characters were less than engaging. All the pick up artists (PUAs) came off as insecure little boys who had to seduce women to feel better about themselves. I think the author did a great job of presenting this openly and honestly. That was its charm but it also left a bad aftertaste.
  • Bewertung: 4 von 5 Sternen
    an eye-opening take on guy-girl interactions and how certain techniques work on picking up women - it's interesting as a psychology read (and leads to great discussion)
  • Bewertung: 5 von 5 Sternen
    This book is fantastic to read. Can't put it down, it's non fiction, amazing, probably mostly for guys, but maybe not.
  • Bewertung: 3 von 5 Sternen
    In the end, virtually none of the characters one meets in this book ends up happy. But that's not the point. The point is, as a woman reading this story of competing schools of pick-up artistry, to understand the other side. Almost all of the pick-up artists in this book were deeply flawed, damaged individuals, who learned techniques to play women like violins in order to salve their bruised and battered egos. In the end, as the author notes, almost nothing is big enough to fill the hole inside their psyche. Still, it's a fascinating look at the other side of dating - the premeditated, consciously manipulative side. I felt like having a shower after reading the book, but it was difficult to put down all the same.
  • Bewertung: 3 von 5 Sternen
    Just ridiculous. I assumed that this was fiction but no, it was much stranger than that.
  • Bewertung: 3 von 5 Sternen
    Really fascinating, entertaining and at the same time irritating read. The techniques fascinate me, especially when they are used in other contexts than this, but the "game" itself... what can I say? I watched and really enjoyed the tv-series The Pickup Artist too, although it gave me very mixed feelings. Again, the techniques and the mind manipulation stuff is intriguing and can be used for amazing things. Using them to deceive, cheat and fool people is really shitty and an incredible waste of potential...
  • Bewertung: 4 von 5 Sternen
    Women!!! Read how men are able to get into your head then into your pants!! It's a canny and clever book with many lol moments. I enjoyed this book......especially finishing it right before a trip to vegas with the girls, then calling out the pua in a club!!! :)
  • Bewertung: 5 von 5 Sternen
    Probably the most well written and interesting non-fiction work I have read. If you're looking for a "how-to-manual" or a good story, you won't be disappointed. Not for the closed-minded, or for the innocent; this book could do some serious damage to the psyche of those who aren't ready for the worldview shattering contents.
  • Bewertung: 5 von 5 Sternen
    Good tips to improve yourself. How to approach and not to think of matters, which actually do NOT matter !
  • Bewertung: 3 von 5 Sternen
    MSBA Nominee 2009-2010

    I liked this book, and for a Myers book, it was very cheery, but I have to admit I don't understand/care for basketball, so I think that it would be better for someone who really was interested in the sport.
  • Bewertung: 4 von 5 Sternen
    There's a good chance I wouldn't have believed some of the extreme claims made in this book if I hadn't seen VH1's reality show, The Pickup Artist, first. Whether you believe it or not, Neil Strauss' The Game is a fun and hilarious book that will suck you in and keep you reading until you hit the back cover.The gist of the book is as follows:Neil Strauss is asked by an editor to investigate the underground PUA (pick-up artist) community. Like most people, Strauss doubted that he would find anything legitimate, but decided to look into the assignment, partly out of self-interest. After learning some PUA techniques from Mystery, creator of the Mystery Method of seduction and perhaps the greatest PUA, and finding some success, Strauss takes on the alias "Style" and totally immerses himself in the lifestyle.Style uses the skills honed by years of writing and journalism to study the many schools of seduction and eventually emerges as one of the world's greatest pick-up artists, rivaling and perhaps even surpassing Mystery.Strauss packs in plenty of hilarious details about the encounters of various PUA's in many different situations, various episodes concerning Mystery and his emotional and mental disturbances, and the events leading up to the collapse of Mystery's ambitious Project Hollywood. Most importantly, Strauss provides his own insightful commentary on all the things the PUA community has completely wrong, namely the misogynistic tendencies of many PUA's, the lack of originality and individual thought amongst PUA's and the complete absence of any "techniques" for staying in healthy, long-term relationships.Despite Mystery's self-defeating personality, the lawlessness of Project Hollywood and having a large number of PUA's turn against him, Style manages to keep his head on straight and even lands himself the girl of his dreams-without using any seduction techniques! (they have quite the opposite effect, actually)Even if you don't believe in the powers of the pick-up artist, this book is worth checking out if only for Strauss' wonderful story of developing confidence in himself and finding happiness. And if you do think there is something to this seduction thing, then this book is a good starting point for learning some things and how to not let yourself get carried away.
  • Bewertung: 2 von 5 Sternen
    Only 3 percent of high school basketball players go on to play for a college. Game by Walter Dean Myers is about one boy who thinks that he can beat those odds. It follows him all throughout senior year as he recounts the challenges of everything from annoying little sisters to dealing with racism in a modern day era.Drew is seventeen and college is looming above him. He has always loved basketball, but now it is even more important. If he is to be able to afford an education, he needs a scholarship. He has never done well in school, and sports is his only hope. Game is about one teenager trying to survive school, his family, teammates and everything else life throws at him, all while trying to win the championship to get noticed by a college. He has been doing pretty well, too, until his coach, House starts to favor a new white kid, Thomas. Everyone notices, and Drew starts to get worried. Thomas is taking over all of Drew’s time in the game, and who is going to want him playing for them when he is always sitting on the bench? Thomas is threatening everything he has worked hard to build, and with the championship coming up, Drew really needs some practice and playing time.
  • Bewertung: 3 von 5 Sternen
    Narrated by JD Jackson. A somewhat pedestrian telling of Drew's coming-of-age on the basketball court: it's not enough to be good, you have to always work hard at it. But this book may have what it takes to appeal to the intended audience. I glazed over the many basketball scenes. JD Jackson voices this book with an authentic black urban vibe.
  • Bewertung: 5 von 5 Sternen
    I read 218/218This book is about a teenage boy named Drew who knows he is not very smart but is trying to use his ball playing skills to get him into a good college. This book takes place in Harlem and during a time where boys his age end up on the street and or dead. At first his basketball team is struggling to win and he isn't starting no more but as soon as his coach changes it up and lets him start again his team starts winning again. The main character is Drew and he is a 6'5" African-American Senior. He and his family are close and pretty much get along and he is friends with everyone on the team. He helps out his mom and listens to his annoying little sister and is a stay out of trouble character. In the beginning he hates his coach because he was changing up their game plan and sitting him for a white kid named Thomas. In the end he becomes friends with Thomas and gets closer with his coach and starts to understand his view point. The reason why I like Walter Dean Myers book's is because I can relate to most of his main characters. I also am close with my family and try my best to always make my mom's life easier and I also like to play basketball. I relate to him because a lot of boys my age are getting in trouble in I try to avoid the bad situations just like Drew. I can't really recall on anything I didn't like about this book because I am a very picky person about what books I choose and the book I choose usually ends up becoming one of my favorites. Although, the one thing I didn't like about this book is I wish it was longer. I would recommend this book to sports/basketball fans or Seniors that are going through the same problem about what colleges to go to. I would recommend this book to those type of people because this book is mainly a sports book with some off the court drama. If someone were to play this character in a movie I would want it to be me because I like the personality of the character and wouldn't mind being in a movie. Also I think I could almost fit the physical requirements of the main character especially his height.
  • Bewertung: 4 von 5 Sternen
    "The Game" is a memoir by NYT music journalist Neil Strauss. It covers a period of two years he spent in the "pickup artist" community. In the first part of the book, he describes his experiences learning strategies, psychological techniques, and sometimes canned lines or routines to help attract women's interest (and ultimately sleep with them). As the book proceeds, the experience of picking up women is largely abstracted out, and the focus becomes Neil's interactions with other members of the "pickup artist" community. Many of these people are oddballs with various mental disorders or personal issues. This culminates in extraordinarily dysfunctional, cult-like behavior as a group of pickup artists rent a house together and several try to monetize their skills by offering seminars."The Game" is not (and does not purport to be) any sort of instruction book. It is an autobiography. It is also a look inside a community of men who are often very insecure, who feel a hole within themselves, and who think that by attracting and sleeping with women, they will achieve meaning or restore value to their lives. Unsurprisingly, even those who become skilled at picking up women remain dissatisfied, sometimes more so than before they joined the pickup artist community. They learn some of the outer, superficial techniques and strategies for appearing confident and meeting women, but they still lack the underlying building blocks that make up a good life (including character traits like self-confidence and inner peace, as well as physical things like having a good job and working passionately to make the world a better place). Neil recognizes this, and his book chronicles a stage in his life that he seems glad to have moved beyond.This book has some notoriety, but I think it is generally undeserved. The pickup artists are not fooling or tricking women- the women know what they're getting into. (This may be one reason why most of the women the pickup artists attract appear to be struggling with their own demons, including self-esteem issues, illegal drug use, etc.) "The Game" is essentially a story of imperfect men and imperfect women seeking validation through each other- an unhealthy co-dependency that is part of muddling through, learning about oneself, and, hopefully, reaching a place where true self-confidence and a fulfilling relationship are possible.I would recommend this book to men who are having difficulty meeting women, but not for the reason one might think. The tips it provides are so sparse that they could be covered in a one-page cheat sheet, and they are so self-evident (e.g. self-confidence is attractive) that you hardly need a book to tell you. What "The Game" does is to illustrate that you're not alone- lots of people, both men and women, feel a need for intimacy, for sex, and for deeper validation. The path to true success- that is, lasting satisfaction and happiness- lies in authenticity and improving oneself, not in a bunch of psychological tricks and routines.

    1 Person fand dies hilfreich

  • Bewertung: 3 von 5 Sternen
    I liked this book, and for a Myers book, it was very cheery, but I have to admit I don't understand/care for basketball, so I think that it would be better for someone who really was interested in the sport.
  • Bewertung: 3 von 5 Sternen
    decent book...more of story and not that much of a self help relationship book
  • Bewertung: 4 von 5 Sternen
    Neil Strauss's writing style (no pun intended) would have made this a captivating read even without the added bonus of Mystery's ridiculousness and Courtney Love's endearing nuttiness. But when all is said and done, even the men who "score" at this "game" end up looking pathetic. They can dress it up all they want, the bottom line is that they spend hours of their lives and thousands of their dollars pretending to be someone they aren't just to get idiot strippers to pay attention to them. None of them end up happy when all is said and done.

    1 Person fand dies hilfreich

  • Bewertung: 2 von 5 Sternen
    i am a shamed how could i bought this book !!
  • Bewertung: 5 von 5 Sternen
    This book si a lot of fun. It si the story of how a Rolling Stone (now NY Times) writer went from not being able to pickup being one of the top pikcup artists in the world. Read it as a story - instead of as a both men and women can read it. does point to other seduction gurus (Mystery, Juggler, Ross Jeffreys) if you are a man...and need the help. It is great that this book opened the door to many men who could not get a date...becomeing successful with women.


The Game - Neil Strauss


Dedicated to the thousands of people I talked to in bars, clubs, malls, airports, grocery stores, subways, and elevators over the last two years.

If you are reading this, I want you to know that I wasn’t running game on you. I was being sincere. Really. You were different.














Notes from Underground

Those who have read early drafts of this book

have all asked the same questions:





Thus, I find it necessary to employ

an old literary device . . .






Men will deny it,

Women will doubt it.

But I present it to you here,

Naked, vulnerable, and

disturbingly real.

I beg you for your forgiveness in advance.



















Excerpt from THE TRUTH













The Feminine Mystique

The house was a disaster.

Doors were split and smashed off their hinges; walls were dented in the shape of fists, phones, and flowerpots; Herbal was hiding in a hotel room scared for his life; and Mystery was collapsed on the living room carpet crying. He’d been crying for two days straight.

This wasn’t a normal kind of crying. Ordinary tears are understandable. But Mystery was beyond understanding. He was out of control. For a week, he’d been vacillating between periods of extreme anger and violence, and jags of fitful, cathartic sobbing. And now he was threatening to kill himself.

There were five of us living in the house: Herbal, Mystery, Papa, Playboy, and me. Boys and men came from every corner of the globe to shake our hands, take photos with us, learn from us, be us. They called me Style. It was a name I had earned.

We never used our real names—only our aliases. Even our mansion, like the others we had spawned everywhere from San Francisco to Sydney, had a nickname. It was Project Hollywood. And Project Hollywood was in shambles.

The sofas and dozens of throw pillows lining the floor of the sunken living room were fetid and discolored with the sweat of men and the juices of women. The white carpet had gone gray from the constant traffic of young, perfumed humanity herded in off Sunset Boulevard every night. Cigarette butts and used condoms floated grimly in the Jacuzzi. And Mystery’s rampage during the last few days had left the rest of the place totaled and the residents petrified. He was six foot five and hysterical.

I can’t tell you what this feels like, he choked out between sobs. His whole body spasmed. I don’t know what I’m going to do, but it will not be rational.

He reached up from the floor and punched the stained red upholstery of the sofa as the siren-wail of his despondency grew louder, filling the room with the sound of a grown male who has lost every characteristic that separates man from infant from animal.

He wore a gold silk robe that was several sizes too small, exposing his scabbed knees. The ends of the sash just barely met to form a knot and the curtains of the robe hung half a foot apart, revealing a pale, hairless chest and, below it, saggy gray Calvin Klein boxer shorts. The only other item of clothing on his trembling body was a winter cap pulled tight over his skull.

It was June in Los Angeles.

This living thing. He was speaking again. It’s so pointless.

He turned and looked at me through wet, red eyes. It’s Tic Tac Toe. There’s no way you can win. So the best thing to do is not to play it.

There was no one else in the house. I would have to deal with this. He needed to be sedated before he snapped out of tears and back into anger. Each cycle of emotions grew worse, and this time I was afraid he’d do something that couldn’t be undone.

I couldn’t let Mystery die on my watch. He was more than just a friend; he was a mentor. He’d changed my life, as he had the lives of thousands of others just like me. I needed to get him Valium, Xanax, Vicodin, anything. I grabbed my phone book and scanned the pages for people most likely to have pills—people like guys in rock bands, women who’d just had plastic surgery, former child actors. But everyone I called wasn’t home, didn’t have any drugs, or claimed not to have any drugs because they didn’t want to share.

There was only one person left to call: the woman who had triggered Mystery’s downward spiral. She was a party girl; she must have something.

Katya, a petite Russian blonde with a Smurfette voice and the energy of a Pomeranian puppy, was at the front door in ten minutes with a Xanax and a worried look on her face.

Do not come in, I warned her. He’ll probably kill you. Not that she didn’t entirely deserve it, of course. Or so I thought at the time.

I gave Mystery the pill and a glass of water, and waited until the sobs slowed to a sniffle. Then I helped him into a pair of black boots, jeans, and a gray T-shirt. He was docile now, like a big baby.

I’m taking you to get some help, I told him.

I walked him outside to my old rusty Corvette and stuffed him into the tiny front seat. Every now and then, I’d see a tremor of anger flash across his face or tears roll out of his eyes. I hoped he’d remain calm long enough for me to help him.

I want to learn martial arts, he said docilely, so when I want to kill someone, I can do something about it.

I stepped on the accelerator.

Our destination was the Hollywood Mental Health Center on Vine Street. It was an ugly slab of concrete surrounded day and night by homeless men who screamed at lampposts, transvestites who lived out of shopping carts, and other remaindered human beings who set up camp where free social services could be found.

Mystery, I realized, was one of them. He just happened to have charisma and talent, which drew others to him and prevented him from ever being left alone in the world. He possessed two traits I’d noticed in nearly every rock star I’d ever interviewed: a crazy, driven gleam in his eyes and an absolute inability to do anything for himself.

I brought him into the lobby, signed him in, and together we waited for a turn with one of the counselors. He sat in a cheap black plastic chair, staring catatonically at the institutional blue walls.

An hour passed. He began to fidget.

Two hours passed. His brow furrowed; his face clouded.

Three hours passed. The tears started.

Four hours passed. He bolted out of his chair and ran out of the waiting room and through the front door of the building.

He walked briskly, like a man who knew where he was going, although Project Hollywood was three miles away. I chased him across the street and caught up to him outside a mini-mall. I took his arm and turned him around, baby talking him back into the waiting room.

Five minutes. Ten minutes. Twenty minutes. Thirty. He was up and out again.

I ran after him. Two social workers stood uselessly in the lobby.

Stop him! I yelled.

We can’t, one of them said. He’s left the premises.

So you’re just going to let a suicidal man walk out of here? I couldn’t waste time arguing. Just have a therapist ready to see him if I get him back here.

I ran out the door and looked to my right. He wasn’t there. I looked left. Nothing. I ran north to Fountain Avenue, spotted him around the corner, and dragged him back again.

When we arrived, the social workers led him down a long, dark hallway and into a claustrophobic cubicle with a sheet-vinyl floor. The therapist sat behind a desk, running a finger through a black tangle in her hair. She was a slim Asian woman in her late twenties, with high cheekbones, dark red lipstick, and a pinstriped pantsuit.

Mystery slumped in a chair across from her.

So how are you feeling today? she asked, forcing a smile.

I’m feeling, Mystery said, like there’s no point to anything. He burst into tears.

I’m listening, she said, scrawling a note on her pad. The case was probably already closed for her.

So I’m removing myself from the gene pool, he sobbed.

She looked at him with feigned sympathy as he continued. To her, he was just one of a dozen nutjobs she saw a day. All she needed to figure out was whether he required medication or institutionalization.

I can’t go on, Mystery went on. It’s futile.

With a rote gesture, she reached into a drawer, pulled out a small package of tissues, and handed it to him. As Mystery reached for the package, he looked up and met her eyes for the first time. He froze and stared at her silently. She was surprisingly cute for a clinic like this.

A flicker of animation flashed across Mystery’s face, then died. If I had met you in another time and another place, he said, crumpling a tissue in his hands, things would have been different.

His body, normally proud and erect, curved like soggy macaroni in his chair. He stared glumly at the floor as he spoke. I know exactly what to say and what to do to make you attracted to me, he continued. It’s all in my head. Every rule. Every step. Every word. I just can’t … do it right now.

She nodded mechanically.

You should see me when I’m not like this, he continued slowly, sniffling. I’ve dated some of the most beautiful women in the world. Another place, another time, and I would have made you mine.

Yes, she said, patronizing him. I’m sure you would have.

She didn’t know. How could she? But this sobbing giant with the crumpled tissue in his hands was the greatest pickup artist in the world. That was not a matter of opinion, but fact. I’d met scores of the self-proclaimed best in the previous two years, and Mystery could out-game them all. It was his hobby, his passion, his calling.

There was only one person alive who could possibly compete with him. And that man was sitting in front of