Category Archives: Travel

Living on the Edge

I have taken a lot of chances the past couple of years. But it has been so worth it. These are scenes from this weekend’s tour on a 4×4 dune buggy on the serene Samaná Peninsula. The alternative would be staying in an office looking at gray walls and cubicles all day long, listening to gossipy coworkers, and of course, hearing them talk about the latest sexual gratification they experienced with food.

I’ve truly reached the point of no return. I could never go back to that lifestyle again. Meantime, won’t you buy one of my eBooks to help me continue trailblazing a path off the corporate plantation?

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Visiting a Foreign Country Without Actually Visiting It


Bachata/Salsa musicians at Altos de Chavon, Dominican Republic – A traveler runs away from the islands of Americanism that comprise the “tourist” areas in many countries

As I unwind from America, Inc. and settle back into a culture and a landscape I love so much, in comes this email from a TNMM reader that I couldn’t agree with more. One of the best things about traveling abroad is escaping the corporate plantation – free of the crap, ersatz food it doles out in cardboard pods, free of the micromanagement of daily life by Police State USA, free of the insanity of the hamster wheel of 70 hour work weeks that leave no personal time, free of the frigid Anglobitch and those poor female souls she has assimilated into her misandric malaise.

However, it seems few are able to imagine a world that exists outside the myopia foisted upon them by their cultural shepherds. Imagine: There are so many ways of living life outside the box The Anglo American Matrix has crafted – the “prison for your mind” that so many are too timid to imagine life outside of. With regards to this topic, TNMM reader “Rick” sent me this email, which sums up my view of being Happier Abroad so well. Once a man sees The American Way is not the best way, his possibilities for creativity and happiness immensely increase:

“There are American compounds all over the world. Big American communities with high rise condos, stores, schools. It’s the American way, it seems, to import their entire lifestyle to a country and live in relative isolation from the local populace, terrified of interaction it seems.

I’m exactly the opposite. Living smack in the middle of the people. I actually avoid most Americans here, finding them to have little respect for the local people [and] a superiority complex regarding the country they live in. I want nothing to do with most of the foreigners here.

In my village the majority of the population carries water from the village well, has no plumbing, many have no electricity or so limited power that all they have is a small light bulb. No refrigeration. Bamboo/nepa huts, dirt floors, no glass in windows, open doors. Little private transportation, many not even a bicycle. Many “streets” no more than dirt paths many only wide enough for foot traffic or motorcycles.

Yet they are good people, living their lives as best they can. Cell phones are everywhere. Sat TV dishes mounted on little huts. Festivals are always going on somewhere. Tolerance for personal differences is high. Life is simple, and in my opinion, good. But my opinion about life in the cities is much like my opinion about life in the US, it sucks. So, it’s boonies and the poor people for me.”

This is how I travel. I roam as far away as I possibly can from the islands of soulless, American-style consumption full of poseurs, malcontents, and plain vanilla, politically correct personalities.

It’s true that most people are tourists and not travelers. Tourists “visit” a foreign country without ever actually visiting it because they stay ensconced in their “comfort zone” bubbles of American-style shopping, eating out, and other preplanned corporate activities. These well-trained, professional consumers also maintain their cultural biases rather than being open minded enough to accept other ways of thinking and living life.

When I travel, the last thing I want to see is a McDonald’s, a Walmart, a Starbucks, an American-style resort – anything corporate and sanitized of vitality and originality. I want to live real life. Like Rick, nothing repels me more than the islands of Americanism on my current island and in other nations I visit. That’s everything I’m trying to escape. I live diversity while others only preach it.

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How sweet it is

I’ve once again escaped The Anglo-American Matrix for warmer climes, warmer women, and a saner cultural/social landscape. I feel like I pass through a membrane into an alternate universe where life and my instincts still make sense each time I take an international flight out of the matrix.

I’m happy to report my experiment in designing a personalized lifestyle of mercenary, financial only relations with the matrix to power a part-time expat lifestyle was a success. I’m now settling in abroad for a long stay, during which I will unwind from the  monotony of 70 hour weeks on the road (driving hundreds of miles per day) I endured, finish my upcoming book Escape, work on my photography, and live a little rather than run in a financial hamster wheel.

There have been some heart stopping moments along the way. Like being among only 2 out of a class of 15 to actually “graduate” from trucking school with a CDL while everyone else either failed or dropped out. Then surviving my trial by fire on the road with my trainer and then going solo. I drove 100,000 miles without any tickets or accidents. Then, having to put in my 2 weeks notice for a job I worked so hard for.

But, now have a “Golden Ticket” that allows me to come and make money while not getting stuck like a fly in honey with the matrix’s financial games. Trucking happened to be the perfect solution to funding a part-time expat lifestyle. As I waited at the airport for my flight to the Caribbean, I was overcome by a strong series of emotions. The first wave was how frankly, frightening my country is becoming. I was “triggered” (heh) by CNN as it blared on the screen. In my journal, I wrote:

I didn’t know how bad CNN had become until I got subjected to it at the airport. Jeez, they’re worse than Pravda these days. The narratives they’re pushing are laughable. Chris Cuomo foaming at the mouth trying to say Trump is crazy. What a frightful world we’ve entered. What happened to my country? This is NOT the nation I grew up in. This place literally scares me these days.

I also made some remarks regarding the latest sexual witch trial, as it seems to me the powers that be want to make sex itself illegal someday:

Anglo America has major cultural issues with sexual repression. First issue I have with all these scandals? No due process. One witch trial after another. What an insane culture. Lauer may be an asshole, but are women truly the sexless goddesses they make themselves out to be? Pure as the winter snow and as innocent as nuns? Probably not.

The power structure wants to either make people scared to fuck or make it illegal to fuck. I can’t figure out which one.

My next flood of emotions were happy ones. I felt like I was getting out of jail. Escaping a cage that had been built for me. Happy to be returning to a culture that is centered around people and not the worship of machines and gadgets.

In any case, how sweet it is to be outside the compound! Daily updates, periodic photo journals, updates on the cultural insanity of the matrix as I watch it from the outside, and of course, a book detailing not only how I did it but how you can too, are all coming soon. In the meantime, I’m headed to the beach to have a big fatty i.e. a nice Cuban cigar, drink too many Caipirinhas, and watch the sexy (and friendly) señoritas walk by.


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Minimalism: Because Experiences Are Better Than Things

Want to be a happier, more fulfilled man? Start chasing experiences rather than consumer purchases. I’ve lived this transformation, and I’m here to preach the evangel. It may well be most important thing a man ever does. The manosphere saved my life, and now I want to save the lives of my fellow awakened brothers by showing them there is a better way. I know because I’ve been living it.

The past two years have been the most exciting of my life. And I can’t wait to begin the third year of my new lifestyle. Why? Because I have chosen to chase experiences rather than things. That photo mosaic is only the sampler platter from all the exciting experiences I’ve lived since leaving the noose news industry. Rather than finding myself buried under and trapped by the sum total of the consumer purchases I could have made, I’ve been living out of a couple of small suitcases and a laptop bag.


I will remember my trip to Moonlite Bunny Ranch even when I’m an old man (I banged the black girl in this photo)

If you’re new here, let’s get you up to speed. Regular readers may already know I sold, threw away, or gave away most of my possessions in 2015 before beginning a new chapter, designing my own post-corporate lifestyle away from the news industry I grew to loathe. People thought I was crazy to leave a “good” job as a newscaster to chase my dreams.

Did I regret such making drastic changes, walking off the GloboWorldCorp plantation? Fuck no! I feel more alive than I ever have before. In that short time I have had incredible experiences. Life has become exciting and fulfilling rather than dull and boring. It doesn’t feel like I’m a rat trapped in a wheel any longer.

I’ve lived more in two years than many people live in a lifetime. I feel “empowered” (heh) and emboldened. To illustrate the change, here’s an interesting juxtaposition of what I actually did in 2016 and 2017 vs. what I could have done. We’ll start with what I actually did:

If I didn’t adopt minimalism, instead staying on the human farm as so many people do I could have:

  • Gone to work and stared at the wall of a cubicle all day long
  • Suffered office drama, gossip, and being under the lash of the HR department
  • Gone to Walmart to buy “things” that are supposed to make me happy but don’t
  • Gone to Target to buy “things” that are supposed to make me happy but don’t
  • Gone to Best Buy to buy “things” that are supposed to make me happy but don’t
  • Eaten crappy, overpriced corporate food from big box restaurants
  • Prostrated myself in vulnerable ways to hit some frosty Anglobitch tail

My only question is why did I ever live that way? What’s interesting is academia is slowly coming around to acknowledge this new template I’m helping create will result in lasting happiness.


I don’t know about you, but an ample supply of svelte, friendly women makes me happy

Happiness Research

Scientific research into psychology, specifically the emerging science of happiness study explains why so many of us are happier as minimalists, and why adopting a lifestyle as a a world-roaming nomad is more fulfilling than life as a cubicle farm serf. Dr. Thomas Gilovich of Cornell University says:

We buy things to make us happy, and we succeed. But only for a while. New things are exciting to us at first, but then we adapt to them.

There’s more. From Fast Company:

Rather than buying the latest iPhone or a new BMW, Gilovich suggests you’ll get more happiness spending money on experiences like going to art exhibits, doing outdoor activities, learning a new skill, or traveling.

Here’s why. In fact, this research came to some profound conclusions. We are the sum total of our experiences.

“Our experiences are a bigger part of ourselves than our material goods,” says Gilovich. “You can really like your material stuff. You can even think that part of your identity is connected to those things, but nonetheless they remain separate from you. In contrast, your experiences really are part of you. We are the sum total of our experiences.”

Experiences also bring us far more social value than so-called social media:

Shared experiences connect us more to other people than shared consumption. You’re much more likely to feel connected to someone you took a vacation with in Bogotá than someone who also happens to have bought a 4K TV.

It turns out money only buys happiness when it buys us out of starvation and gives us a sense of security. More things don’t equal more happiness, a fact totally lost in the religion of consumerism America has adopted:

Gilovich’s findings are the synthesis of psychological studies conducted by him and others into the Easterlin paradox, which found that money buys happiness, but only up to a point. How adaptation affects happiness, for instance, was measured in a study that asked people to self-report their happiness with major material and experiential purchases. Initially, their happiness with those purchases was ranked about the same. But over time, people’s satisfaction with the things they bought went down, whereas their satisfaction with experiences they spent money on went up.

The lesson from all this is men will actually be far better off post-feminism than women will be. Minimalists and adventurous spirits will fare best, freed from the bondage than a relationshit (or heaven forbid, a marriage) with most any Anglobitch represents.

While women have been left strapped for cash by feminism, men can use their innate creativity and innovation to live exciting lives most dare not dream of. And we can do it on a shoestring budget.

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TSA and The Illusion of Security

TSA provides the illusion of security from a phantom enemy

Titanium Vulture is an author, filmmaker, and contributor to The New Modern Man.

We are not safe.

Repeat after me:  WE ARE NOT SAFE.  We never were.  Not completely safe anyway. I’d prefer to say “safer than we were a century ago.”  I think that’s better.

When I got out of the military I needed a job to tide me over while I was in film school.  Being that I was military police during my enlistment, homeland security would be a good choice.  I have experience in that sort of thing so it would be a good fit right?

I raised my right hand when I got hired to work as a part time transportation security screener for the Transportation Security Administration (TSA).  I was reminded of the day I volunteered to serve my country as an enlisted man.  It felt good.

I was put in training for a few days and began my stint at a South Florida airport.  Like any fresh out of school recruit, I was eager to help keep the flying public safe.  “This was merely an extension of my time in the military,” I thought.

Boy, the honeymoon sure ended quick!

Here’s the thing.  The TSA was slapped together as a response to the terrorist attacks on September 11th, 2001.  It’s not like it evolved over a period of time like the FBI or the CIA.  The government wanted the flying public to feel safe despite the dangers of these terrorist factions.  They did not train specialists in an academy over a long length of time.  I was hired and on the line working within two weeks at the most!

My coworkers were not the kind of specialists I was used to in the military.  Hell, a lot of them were former baggage handlers, flight attendants and flight line workers that lost work after the attacks on 9/11.  Many people did not want to fly in the immediate weeks after the attacks.

Many TSA workers, at the time I was there, were phoning it in.  Some screeners did not care too much for finding contraband or weapons.  If things got busy they pushed all the bags through as fast as possible.  Many times we were evaluated on the basis of “speed” instead of whether we actually caught a weapon in the X-ray machine.

I tried my best to do my job but sometimes it’s tough when the folks around you really don’t care.  I wonder if the gov overlords actually did legit background checks on some of these individuals.  Even the concourse managers and supervisors were merely doing the minimum to keep the flying public quiet.  What the fuck, over?

What was the point of me working hard if the rest of the crew didn’t give two shytes?  Eventually my brain clicked and I started to understand the truth.

TSA agents provide security theater to the masses

The Illusion of Security

It didn’t matter what the screeners did, the flying public was no safer with them than if it was still private security like before.

We were not there to keep a bomb from getting on a plane.  If someone really wants to take down an airliner they’re going to find a way to do it.  We were there to appease the masses.  

The airports and air carriers needed business.  They needed customers to fill those seats.  And those folks need to be comfortable.  It is impossible to absolutely assure safety in any situation.  The only truly safe people are prisoners!

In order to ensure a weapon would not be brought on the aircraft, every individual, man, woman or child, would need a freakin’ cavity search before getting past security.  Think about the thousands-upon-thousands of people who fly at major airports everyday.  Sorry, if someone wants to kill people with an airplane there’s not much a scanner or X-ray can do to stop it.

Thus, I propose the TSA was merely an instrument of calming the sheep.  Like the fence that “protects” your flock.  A wolf can still get in if it really wants too.  How safe are your live stock REALLY?

I soon left the TSA after only a couple of months of participating in the masquerade.  The pay sucked anyway so why give your soul for the kind of wage a server can make in a restaurant?  No thank you.

We are not safe.

Looking back, I’m glad I got to peer behind the curtain of our government on several occasions in my life.  With that experience and my time working as a TV news camera man, I’ve realised that security is not an absolute.  Things like traffic cameras, drones and security guards are merely instruments of deterrence.

If an armed guard stands in front of a bank, yes, an amateur/wanna-be-thug would not want to try robbing said bank.  But a professional crew?  Yeah, that dude is toast.

Whenever a crime spree occurs, you see more police presence after the fact.  But if more patrols were in the area from the beginning would we even be talking about the crime in the first place?

Now I’m not saying there should not be law enforcement or a military force.  I propose to our readership that it is not good to put the idea of safety over the idea of freedom.

The freedom to have a business of your own.  The freedom to carry a firearm for your security  The freedom to live your life how you want.

Providing you are not bringing harm to other people intentionally, party on!  Go to a third world country and travel by yourself.  Greet your neighbors even if you live in a tough part of town.  Fucking live life, man!

There are so many ways to die that you dodge every day.  Although the United States is not perfect, compared to other parts of the world there is not wide spread danger and mass-murder.  Despite what our friends in the media might say!

There’s no way to know whether you’ll survive the day or not.  So what’s the point of hiding behind a police force, security guard, white picket fence or whatever holds you back?

We’re not safe anyway.  So you might as well have fun.  Peace and stay focused, gents.

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City Review: Samaná and Surrounding Areas


Truly a slice of paradise

Rel’s International Travel Guides (see more)
Samaná Peninsula (Samaná, Las Terrenas, Las Galeras)

Relampago’s City Rating: Star16Star16Star16Star16Star16

  • Nightlife: Excellent
  • Chance to score: Excellent
  • Beer prices: 100 pesos, or $2
  • Food prices: Pica pollo for $3-5
  • Lodging: From $20/night
  • Things to do besides chase women: Many options

If mocha and chocolate women are you bag, you will find yourself in paradise pretty much anywhere on the island of the Dominican Republic. They’re keen to meet Americans and Europeans, and are some of the best overall women I’ve found in all my travels. Many make great LTR prospects, but beware the actresses that only go for gringo money and have a papi chulo banging them when Beta Bucks guy isn’t around.

Come for the women, but stay for the culture and music. Bachata, Merengue and Salsa dancing abound, and you’ll hear those melodical musical forms wherever you may roam. Usually, eminating from cozy discotecas serving Presidente beer, Caipirinhas, and Santo Libres. Take the time to learn at least one form of dancing, because it will be worth it. This is a very social culture and dancing puts you in the middle of all the action.

One of the most secluded, but most unspoiled and beautiful areas on the entire island of Hispaniola is the Samaná Peninsula. About a 3 hour bus ride from El Capital, it’s off the beaten path. The town of Samaná (technically Santa Barbara de Samaná) is a quiet, picturesque bayside town that reminds you of the Good Old Days. A quick boat ride will take you to the barrier island of Cayo Levantado in the middle of Samaná Bay. The world-reknowned Playa Rincon is a short motoconcho ride away.

In many ways, this entire peninsula is paradise, defined. Palms line its lush, scenic mountains. There are no big box stores or Americanization to be found. Women are, for the most part, thin and very friendly. Whales inhabit Samaná Bay part of the year, and this is one of the best whale watching locations on the planet. Water is turqouise blue and crystal clear, and beaches are pristine.

Day trips can take you to slightly more cosmopolitan Las Terrenas, where French and Italian expats have become so numerous they’ve practically established a colony there. Then, there’s tiny Las Galeras which offers some of the most scenic beaches and ocean views anywhere. El Limon is about midway between Las Terrenas and Samana, and the waterfall – accessible only on horseback or mule – is a treat.

Be sure to try some pica pollo y tostones to eat while you’re here, and if you get really lucky you might find a girl who knows how to make you chuleta con ñame. You’ll need to brush up on your Spanish skills, because almost nobody speaks English here. That’s a very good thing, as it has insulated this part of Latin America from degenerate and materialistic Anglo American cultural influence.

If you prefer a pretty, promiscuous girlfriend, Puerto Plata, Sosua, and Cabarete should be your destination. Those locations are a 3 hour guagua ride from the capital or Samaná. You’ll be approached by numerous, sexy girls and will have your pick of hot dates, especially in Sosua. More of them will speak at least a little broken English there.

Overall, few places I’ve visited in this world bring me the pleasure and peace of mind Samaná does.

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Don’t Let an Anglobitch Strangle the Life Out of You

I just pulled off this awesome mini-vacation for around $500. That much money wouldn’t be enough to get started on if I had an Anglobitch tying me down. As I make my way through my last two months in America before returning to greener pastures abroad, I decided to head out West for my usual week off, after 3 weeks on the road earning “freedom money” in my semi.

I will say, on this trip and as a social observer, in Las Vegas and elsewhere I enjoyed watching guys who had one of these Anglobitch parasites attached to them suffering through their trips while I enjoyed mine, because I did whatever the fuck I wanted without the huge overhead expense that comes with having a snarky chick in tow. I’m convinced cutting these girls out of your life (except having a few friends with benefits) is the best thing a man can do for himself.

They just ain’t worth it.

YouGoGrrls and feminists enjoy parroting the line “I don’t need a man!” as they scurry off to jobs that exploit them on the corporate plantation. We hear it day in and day out, as women try so hard to put men in our place. But really, men need to start realizing the wisdom in the maxim “I don’t need a woman!” That simple statement is life changing. Why try to keep one around as a pet?

Become a “Naughty Nomad” as Mark Zolo and I have both done.

Learning the truth about females means realizing abundance mentality is where it’s at. Anglo women, unfortunately, aren’t worth much investment beyond the time it takes to get their clothes off. Women in America have become nothing but an albatross for today’s man. All risk, all demands, and no rewards.

Why get one-itis for someone who costs so much and gives so little back in return? The truth of the matter is there are just too many women and too many options and too many ways to get their candy without sacrificing one’s life and wallet and freedom for it. Don’t get emotionally invested in women. It’s a trap.

As I made my latest sojourn across the Desert Southwest the past few days, I realized I wouldn’t be doing anything I’ve done this year  – like visiting a brothel, banging non-pro chicks left and right, spending a month in Asia, spending a week in Playa del Carmen, spending a week in Las Vegas, and coming soon, spending a week in Curaçao, a month in Colombia, and returning to the Caribbean to live for anywhere between 6 months to 2 years if I had an Anglobitch weighing me down with her incessant need to consume.

What would be happening instead? Let’s just analyze this recent trip without going into detail about the rest of my swinging, free-wheeling lifestyle.

She would be complaining about the fact I have constantly been in motion since parking my big rig last week. When I go, I go at my own pace as a man, which is about 100 miles per hour. I love to explore and “aprovechar el tiempo” as my Spanish friends say. She would be complaining about the cheap (but clean) motels I stay in. She would be pushing me to consume crappy, overpriced corporate food (like the ersatz Bubba Gump or Señor Frog’s at $70 for 2 people, i.e. something with a stupid brand name on it) rather than eating simpler meals. She would be complaining about me spending time in the natural world rather than the churches of consumerism she worships. She would be pushing to go shopping for worthless crap to waste money that could instead be spent on experiences.

If I didn’t supplicate to her demands, she would buzz off like a vulture and find another provider module to exploit. Or, I’d have to expend mental energy putting her in her place. What man has got time for that nonsense?! Until women can provide more value than just sex in a relationship, that’s all women in America will ever be to me. Sexual entertainment. And aggravating, pricey, demanding sexual entertainment at that.

Perhaps it’s the vantage point of having half a lifetime of experience with hoes that allows a man to adopt this attitude. Realizing women have done little more than strangle the life out of him as each one attempts to pull her pussy lips over his head and suffocate him by cutting him off from his interests, his need to explore and seek novelty in life, his friends, and spending his money rather than him spending it, a man is freed from his innate desire to keep a woman around.

The Anglobitch only oppresses masculinity, because in this culture the belief is she “deserves” every ounce of a man’s productivity for herself because she’s endowed with magic anatomy. That’s really pretty fucked up. And a product of Anglo culture more than any other culture I’ve experienced.

As time wears on, I am growing confident that an income of $20,000 a year is enough for the enlightened man to live a fantastic life on if he decides to live part time abroad, adopts minimalism, and rejects the life plan commanded of him by women and consumer culture. The typical Anglobitch would waste more than that on recreational eating, clothes, and other assorted materialism.

But, as TNMM has pointed out before, it doesn’t take much for a man to live on. There are two ways to be rich: One is by acquiring much, and the other is by desiring little. Desiring little is where it’s at. Which is why the Anglobitch must be avoided like the plague she is. Don’t let the financial predator into your life.

The entire world will literally be your reward.

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