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Why Can't I Use A Smiley Face?: Stories From One Month In America, by Roosh V
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How many sexual partners is too many?�
What happens when you've lived away from your birth country for too long?�
Why do moms give bad advice to their sons?�
Why do Americans talk so much?�
Should a one-night stand have romance?�
Can a man ever be more interesting than a woman's smartphone?
Are you your father's son?
How much money is enough?
Which country is best for men?
Can a city decrease a man's sex drive?
Why is it that using a smiley face is needy in one country but not in another?
These are the questions that come up in Why Can't I Use A Smiley Face?, a short memoir about one man's brief return to America after living in Europe for nearly two years. Stories range from trying to bang girls in Washington DC to getting caught up in a web of lies.
Living abroad can bring great experiences, relationships, and happiness, but it may cost you friends, family, and even your own identity.
- Sales Rank: #1938163 in Books
- Published on: 2013-02-25
- Original language: English
- Number of items: 1
- Dimensions: 8.50" h x .16" w x 5.50" l, .20 pounds
- Binding: Paperback
- 68 pages
Most helpful customer reviews
40 of 49 people found the following review helpful.
The Ugly Side of American Culture
By Paul Bakhmut
Why Can't I Use a Smiley Face is a collection of short essays describing episodes from Roosh's temporary return to the US from Eastern Europe. With his characteristic unapologetic honesty and sharp humor, Roosh lets us witness irreversible changes one experiences when living abroad as he describes his interactions with family, friends, readers and girls happening during his monthly stay.
The title of the book speaks to the effects of the forces contemporary American culture exerts upon men. Why Can't I Use a Smiley Face is a vivid account of a male experience in America that will be of high value to both Americans who wish to challenge their taken-for-granted assumptions about local women and femininity and foreigners who haven't been introduced to this side of American culture.
The entire collection of essays comes down to the idea that men in America are devalued and objectified in the form of being seen as "no more than vessels for short-term sexual pleasure" (p.1) while stressing on corresponding devastating changes women endure. As a newcomer from Eastern Europe, I found the descriptions in the book to be amazingly accurate. Many of them are so typical that they could have been written by any guy who set his foot in an American bar.
Roosh managed to cover a plethora of key elements that make American culture hostile to men:
There is a general lack of ways a man in America can express sexual interest. Masculinity is suppressed by the redefinition of traditional courting as weakness without many alternatives to substitute it. Expressing interest is seen as unnatural, giving rise to different 'techniques' or 'game', (i.e. an attempt of American men to seduce women by pretending they are not doing so):
"Being flirty with an American can be risky, especially if she construes that you're falling in love with her. I didn't want her to get "creeped out" by real affection." (p. 20).
In particular, compliments are viewed as weakness in America unlike in Eastern Europe where they are seen as a socially acceptable way of expressing interest:
"I accidentally defaulted to my European game by giving a unique compliment about her hair and then easing into a conversation where the goal was to charm he pants off. But I wasn't in Europe and by the time I realized that, I lost her." (p. 45)
In contrast to Eastern Europe, women and men do not have a natural interest in each other, making it impossible to develop a conversation based on your true self:
"It was going down like a Lithuanian or Ukrainian pickup. The lead time was slow, but the attraction was being built based on my experiences and knowledge instead of my ability to make her horny with cocky statements." (p. 59).
Women have little interest in men and don't put any effort into conversations (p.16)
American women are repulsed by the very idea of having a family life. (p. 17):
"Roosh: "Putting kids in daycare isn't family at all."
American woman: "So you think a woman should stay home like a slave?""
Sex means nothing in America. A womanizer in Eastern Europe would have to pretend that he wants a relationship to get sex. After he gets it, he would often have to face the girl crying after she realizes relationship wasn't his true goal. In America, it is women who are using men like sex objects:
"After cleaning up, before my heartbeat had even a chance to settle, she said, "You don't have to stay."" (p. 21). [...] "I told her how things were in Europe, where some girls fell in love after sex. "I don't want a relationship," she said, abruptly." (p. 22)
In Eastern Europe, bad boys get lots of sex and nice guys enter monogamous relationships, but in America, nice guys don't get anything. The culture forces you to become a cold-blooded misogynist jerk if you want to succeed with women (if "success" and "women" are applicable words here):
"During the meetup, with the dozens of times "Poland" left the lips of men, I realized what it represented: the past. Poland is a place where nice guys can still get the girl." (p. 45)
Roosh also covers other vices of America including the "cougar phenomenon" (p. 49), girls using vulgarity (p. 51) and physical force (p.52) as well as obesity combined with a bad attitude (p. 56-57).
Roosh brutally exposes the worst of American women. Just read the book to understand the challenges men are facing; to get an idea what it feels like when you enter a club only to realize that there are no attractive women (who are unattractive not due to their genetics but by choice and as a result of social engineering); to feel the depth of the decay that allows even the most mediocre women get the level of attention that isn't close to anything you've ever seen; to get a grasp of the world where girls do not give eye contact, smile, blush and giggle but try to avoid men at all costs (unless men serve their selfish goals); to look into the eyes of the vampire that will suck out your confidence and kill a man inside you.
Roosh left America with no definite plan of return, unhappy with what his country has become.
21 of 26 people found the following review helpful.
America the barren?
By Fred
Roosh has an approach to writing about his life that is at once clinical, self-reflective, funny, critical and--one just does not expect this--philosophical. In his latest, he returns to the country of his birth and ultimately find us wanting; but I'm jumping ahead of myself.
The book is a series of vignettes documenting his return to visit friends and family after years away. Each chapter describes occurrences on this journey and reads very much like an quirky, independent movie so much so you will think you were at your local art house cinema drinking a Belgian lager and watching a cool guy make his unconventional way through life.
As he describes what's happening, Roosh deadpans his observations like a movie voice-over. He writes with a detachment that is at first startling but ultimately refreshing and makes me think he may be reproducing for us what happened in his mind real-time as it was actually happening.
As you read, you stumble across various pronouncements about the human condition from a man who will, in his lifetime, meet more different people in two years than most ever will in a lifetime. He is frank, quite brutally frank actually, about sex. He is brutally frank also about the female of the species, genus Americanensis. Here, for example, he describes how many men it takes to turn a woman into a ruthless entitlement mare:
`I estimate that it takes ten male partners for a woman to start realizing that she doesn't "need" a man. Any man who dates her after that will get half-assed relationship efforts and increased entitlement. She knows how easy it is to get [a man] that, though maybe not as good as yours, will validate her nonetheless.'
Since 10 is quite a low number in modern America, if one accepts his assertion it is no leap of the imagination to see where things have gone. And every other story he tells of meeting women in DC seems to bear this out.
Especially funny is the story of the female lawyer who cannot understand the psycho-dynamics of reality and asks--no demands--attention. On his metaphorical feet as usual, Roosh turns ice cold and decides to see just how far he can push the interaction. And like the damaged spirit that she is, unrecognizing, blind, she stumbles unfeeling towards eventual cat-owning obsolescence. No way a normal person could absorb this every weekend and emerge unscathed. Roosh seems to shake his head, clarity prevails: I'm back in the United States.
More than the travails of random encounters with tigresses is Roosh's interactions with his mother and sister. It seems he'd thought they were supportive of his lifestyle, but something about their XX chromosomes had since taken over and produced arguments against his choices, and it seems to find him taken aback. "In my own house, too?"
What I like most about Roosh's writing is the philosophical calmness with which he writes, how he describes the process of levelling counter-arguments without emotional outburst especially considering he's "arguing" with those he loves about a way of life he has come to love. One can be forgiven for thinking it a writer's low trick, made to show how cool under fire he is, but watch his videos and you can sense this is how he is regardless of the circumstance. It is no leap to connect this person with his writing persona and sense the veracity of itl.
Methodically, he rips apart mom's reasoning so that, by the end, she is making what I feel is the painful demand that either he change or he stop communicating with her. This couldn't have been an easy thing to write about, but it is invaluable to anyone thinking of hoeing this road. This is what may and likely will happen to you: even your own family will disapprove of your jumping the society-lain train tracks.
Another family story, this time of dad. Seeking perhaps to understand himself further, he meets up with his father over a weekend's gambling in Atlantic City and coaxes from him the apparent genetic source of Roosh's "talents," shall we say. Dad was a "player" back before it became codified, before it became popular. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree.
Underlying all this and forming a backbone of his new book is the world-weariness: he's half-expecting something new, please surprise me. Perhaps in the two years I've been away, he begs, please be different. But he only finds more of the same and even worse. It is a jungle of the heart and the cougars are winning: you can play with a tame lion, but those claws, those claws, those claws. The title of the book comes from a tryst with a woman who coldly dispatches him from her bed, and in a moment of vulnerability, he leaves a note and discusses with himself how best to convey that a human experience between them has occurred instead of a steel bare transaction: perhaps a smiley face? She never calls back.
And so, as he departs (sister no longer cries at the airport) he comes to the conclusion that America is the land of the barren of soul. He no longer recognizes it and thus leaves its shores, a stranger. I wonder what that means for the men who are left behind. I ponder this question and my soul freezes at its outer edges.
17 of 21 people found the following review helpful.
Only for niche audience
By hawkunit
Story of the author becoming an expat through a series of offputting encounters with women in DC over the period of a month. For those that aren't familiar with his work, he is a life-long student of the art of seduction, though this book is not about instruction.
I'm usually a fan of Roosh lit, but this seemed to be more for the author than for his audience. "I'm a man of the world!" he exclaims at one point, disappointed with his (lack of) reception by DC women. I get it; it's easier to pick up women abroad as a traveled American -- I think most people knew that before opening the cover. American women are superficial and unfeminine -- again, no surprises here. When a guy that spends his professional life traveling the world, racking up "bangs," comes back to the country that largely represents his readership to complain about its women it mostly just comes off as trite and petulant.
I took issue with the inclusion of typos that made it feel unprofessional, also extrapolating opinions about an entire culture based on experiences with ONE city ONLY at night venues within a period of ONE month was just over the top. I don't have trouble meeting feminine or interesting women in the US and I'm not even a PUA. The old Roosh from "Dead Bat" was a pioneer and innovator, but this one seems entitled and lazy, especially in his writing. During the moments where he enjoys his modicum of US notoriety as a professional author before arriving at his big decision at the end, I couldn't help but wondering if he is finally a victim of his own Kool-Aid.
Overall fairly disapopinted with the product and probably not a future supporter of the new lifestyle abroad if this represents the final evolution of Roosh. It is worth picking up, however, if you've read any of his memoirs esp "Dead Bat" to see where the journey has ended. It also includes some characteristically amusing anecdotes though they seem laced with bitterness moreso than previous accounts.
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