clear soft smooth hard rough warm silky cool gritty velvety red purple green black golden amber sweet salty blurry loud faint rhythmic sporadic high-pitched low-pitched resonant reedy mellifluous clicking buzzing humming fast slow harsh slick glittery transparent translucent opaque sticky gritty furry glistening flowing above below inside
1. Male speech seeks to convey information efficiently; female speech seeks to do so richly.
2. Female speech makes extensive use of two kinds of language: bubblewords and sensewords.
3. Bubblewords are abstract, conceptual labels for experience, as opposed to sensory-specific descriptions of experience; they tend to take the form of effects portrayed without causes. Bubblewords tell you what happened, but not how. They tend to render events as passive experiences, without sensory description; when bubblewords are attached to sensory descriptions, the sensory descriptions tend to be metaphorical, e.g., "A warm, rich, sweet, sense of passion!" Examples of bubblewords include the following: sense, experience, events, feelings, meaning, discovery, wonder, passion, realization, connection, truth.
4. Sensewords are words that indicate the sensory details of an event, including shape, color, tone, volume, pitch, tempo, texture, weight, direction, smell, and taste. Sensewords help a listener imaginatively recreate, and thereby emotionally respond, to the experience being communicated. Examples of sensewords include the following: hot, smooth, sweet, slick, warm, fuzzy, blurry, clear, steady, heavy, glistening, and slow.
5. The two extremes of linguistic specificity—the abstract and the sensory—we call the Double Lollipop. Using both ends of the Double Lollipop in speech makes your female listeners feel good.
V. On the Roller Coaster, or, Why She'll Feel Rather than Analyze
Before we plunge further into technique, let's get a potential lingering question out of the way: Won't a woman object, if you speak in emotional generalities?
Let's answer the question through an example.
Consider this deliberately evocative sentence: "It's great when you're driving along, in the mountains maybe, and as the trees whip by you and everything blurs, you feel this incredible sense of freedom stirring inside you, the kind of freedom that allows you to feel a sense of balance, as if the different parts of yourself are finally acquiring a sense of centeredness, a groundedness that you hadn't really felt before...you know, the kind that allows you to achieve a kind of serenity that makes you open to renewal, and makes you open to the realization that feeling this kind of freedom makes intensity, real intensity, something that can open the deepest parts of you, and remind you of the things, help you connect to the things, that you know are really important and meaningful!"
Sounds like a parody of a self-help book, right?
Sure. And yet, that kind of language, applied in conversation, is actually meaningful to women; not only is it meaningful, but if delivered with intensity and conviction, it will make women feel incredibly good.
Women feel the emotions that you name.
But wait a minute, you might say. The words in boldface above aren't really justified or explained—the speaker goes from talking of "freedom" to "parts" to "centeredness" and "groundedness"—and none of these increasingly vague words is ever really defined.
You might continue; If I say "centeredness" to a woman, she's going to stop me and ask me what I mean. She's going to catch me and make me admit that I don't know what I'm talking about, that I'm babbling and talking in a completely nonsensical way.
This is an eminently logical, reasonable fear.
It's also beside the point.
When you use a vague bubbleword like centeredness and you seem completely confident of the importance of what you're saying—better still, if you say it with a dreamy, abstracted air, as if you yourself are feeling a sense of "centeredness" (whatever centeredness means)—your female listener will do two useful things:
1) She will internally generate a meaning for centeredness, without having to think about it, such that what you've said will be smoothly and automatically meaningful for her;
2) She will feel whatever "centeredness" means to her.
Why will she do this? Why will she feel "centeredness" instead of analyzing it? She'll feel the emotion instead of dissecting it because it feels good to her, and she doesn't want to spoil the experience. Remember, women don't just hear words—they feel them. Think of it this way: When you are getting a massage, isn't it more fun to notice how good it feels than to think about, for example, the masseuse's motivation, or what's going on in her life, or what she had for breakfast? At the instant you're plunging downhill on a rollercoaster, aren't you more likely to yell or at least feel the thrill of the experience than to wonder about, for example, the changing market value of the land on which the rollercoaster has been built?
To women, speech filled with bubblewords and sensewords is welcome and natural. For women, hearing bubblewords like fulfillment and connection and passion helps induce in them the emotional experiences that make life worthwhile.
Men tend to use bubblewords, especially those having to do with emotions, much less often than women. Bubblewords, to men, often seem slippery and vaguely discomfiting; they name emotions that men aren't often conscious of experiencing.
Since women expect conversation to evoke emotion, and bubblewords elicit emotion so well, those conversations in which bubblewords are left out often leave women feeling subtly unsatisfied. Hence that common complaint among women: Men don't really "communicate."
Conversely, when a man does use bubblewords and sensewords, he's communicating the way women believe you ought to communicate. When you speak this way, you become that rare and wonderful specimen, a man who is...aware, a man who is in touch with his real feelings.
1) Women automatically create meanings for bubblewords, and so listen to them uncritically (in speech, at least—they're usually just as critical as men when encountering this language in print).
2) When women hear bubblewords, they tend to feel them, rather than analyzing them.
VI. Frankie Say, "Relax": How to Evoke Specific Emotions in Someone
You can make your listener feel an emotion simply by talking about that emotion.
How and why does this work? This works according to something that we call The Pink Elephant Principle: Anything you describe to someone, that person imagines, simply to understand what you are talking about. The more detailed your description of that experience, the more fully your listener understands and experiences it.
How do you describe something well?
1) Specify the experience in terms of the senses. That is, describe what can be seen, heard, felt tactilely, smelled, and tasted as part of the experience. Also, describe what can be experienced internally and subjectively—make an effort to convey every subtlety and nuance of your experience, no matter how strange those nuances might seem from a logical, objective perspective—describe what you imagine, say to yourself, and feel in your body as you process the experience. If, when you find yourself falling in love, it kinda-sorta seems as if there's a glow around the other person, mention that perception. If, when you find yourself struck by a wondrous idea, a bing sound goes off in your head, mention that perception. If, when you find yourself feeling excited, the feeling is almost as if there are tingly red clusters of plasma-like energy shooting up from your palms to your shoulders, describe the feeling that way. Basically, you should allow yourself to elaborate on every aspect of the experience as thoroughly as might a wine critic, savoring a particularly fine vintage. The more you describe, the more your listener will understand and feel.
2) As you describe the experience, look and sound and act as if you are feeling the emotional state you are describing. The more you look as if you are feeling what you are describing, the safer your listener feels in following that experience. Bear in mind that people, particularly in English-speaking and Asian countries, tend not to be very expressive or skillful with the nonverbal subtleties of communication; the more expressive you are—the more you look and sound and gesture and act as if you are intensely feeling what you are describing—the deeper the emotional response you will elicit. Being very expressive is a major component of what is sometimes called charisma. On the other hand, if you don't allow yourself to be expressive—if you don't show emotion—you will tend to elicit weak or unenthusiastic responses from people. For that matter, women tend to desire more emotional expressiveness and intensity than most men demonstrate—so allow yourself to be more expressive than you think seemly, because, by and large, women find expressiveness and "passion" deeply attractive. Being emotionally expressive makes it much, much, much easier to get laid.
Let's suppose you want to get your listener to trust you.
Example: "What's really great is when you find yourself sharing a deep sense of trust with someone. Know what I mean? You know, the kind of trust that feels like there's this soft golden bubble, this pool of energy, holding both of you inside, warm to the touch, softly soothing you and calming you, a feeling so warm and strong that it begins to flow inside you, deepening your sense of safety and total trust, expanding, spreading wide like wings, so much so that the feeling itself seems to say to you, your own sense of what you need and feel says to you, 'You are safe, you are protected, you can open to this experience and feel and accept this experience completely.' Now, with me, this feels great—this, with me, is the feeling. Maybe you feel good about feeling this feeling too. This kind of trust, real trust, this kind of trust is a great feeling, now, isn't it?"
At this point, you may be thinking, "That's insane! No woman would listen to that kind of garbage without laughing at me!" It's a reasonable reaction. But it's wrong—that belief is what keeps men from getting laid, and keeps the women they meet from feeling the emotional satisfaction they intuitively know they can have. You'll learn more about this kind of language, and why it works, as you progress further into this book.
Let's suppose you wanted to make your listener "excited".
Example of an impoverished, ineffective description: "I had a good time playing football Saturday. It was pretty exciting."
Example of a rich description: "I had a good time playing football yesterday. It was pretty exciting. I was so focused, the experience was so intense, that everything outside the game seemed to blur.
You know, like the only thing that mattered was the game. And everything inside the game got hyper-sharp, all the colors and lines, all the faces, were just incredibly clear and focused, and the clearer everything looked, the more I felt pure excitement just ramp up inside me. It was as if every time I moved in to tackle someone, I just saw that person as if through a microscope—I could see the sweat glittering on the guy's face, the blood under his skin, all the fear and rage and intensity inside him, you know? Everything seemed amplified, as if we were all wearing mikes, and there were loudspeakers in my head, everything pounding and crashing and colliding—the louder things became, the more exciting everything became. It was such a rush that I could feel waves of energy—this is gonna sound funny, but like hot red columns of light were just shooting from my shoulders to my gut, getting hotter and hotter, as I felt myself getting stronger and stronger, more and more excited..."
Et cetera. As we'll explain later, women really like it when you ramble on and on, even about things that to you may not seem like they need to be said.
Here's an example of evoking a state of passion. It dwells on putting together software, just to remind you that you can use any activity to evoke any emotional state.
Example of a poor description: "Well, I spent Tuesday night writing code."
Example of a rich description: "Well, I spent Tuesday night writing code. Coding can actually be a very powerful experience—you're creating this world of absolute possibility, within which anything can happen, but you've gotta build it out of matchsticks. Some people may not see how this can be the case, but with me, the more I think about it and experience it, the more I connect it to a sense of passion. It can be completely enthralling, like it's pulling your attention irresistibly, a whirlpool sucking you in. Imagine building a skyscraper out of matchsticks. Everything has gotta be perfectly balanced, perfectly set—and all you've got is your own determination, your focus, your ability—really, your ability to feel passion. The passion begins with a hard, solid sense in your gut— and as it grows stronger, this hard dark solid thing begins to feel like a drum, pounding and pounding, pounding and pounding, deep inside you. Everything else seems trivial, and your intensity, your passionate sense that this is hugely valuable and important, gets stronger and stronger—and paradoxically, the more focused you are on the experience you're creating and you're now inside, the more whole you feel. It's as if in surrendering to the experiencing of giving yourself completely to this, feeling every part of yourself, every ounce of your ability to feel, totally devoted to this, this burning passion inside you now, the more you find yourself learning and growing. Every little flickering character on the screen challenges you to find the one that should come next—or the one it really ought to be. You're being challenged over and over again, and you sometimes want to pound your fist through the screen, and the screen seems to grow larger and clearer in your mind— everything seems to be growing larger and clearer all the time, as you become more and more consumed by this, in ways that feel more and more intense and rewarding, as you begin to feel that this aura of pure possibility begins to radiate out from deep inside you, and your thoughts become as penetrating and piercing and focused as a laser, able to make anything melt, through the heat of the desire inside you, and this laser begins to make you feel more and more in touch with what you truly want, as everything that it's melting seems to combine all your doubts and inhibitions, carving away your fears, refining and strengthening your excitement and intensity, so as you realize those old things are now melting inside you, your passion and desire and intensity just get stronger and stronger, as the laser gets brighter and hotter ..."
Yes, that description seems crazy. Still, such language has a powerful effect on women.
You may have noticed that the speaker mentioned the states he was trying to evoke over and over again. On the page, it doubtless looked repetitious. In conversation, though, people, especially women, are usually quite comfortable with repetition.
You may also have noticed that each state was described in a number of different ways. That is, the description portrays passion as a balanced building of matchsticks, pounding drums, a laser, etc. Are these descriptions logically coherent? Nope—and they don't need to be. They just need to paint pictures in a female listener's mind. Bad Poetry=Deep Arousal.
You may have also noticed that some of the descriptions present the symbol as doing different things. That is, the Laser of Passion in the example above focuses, melts, carves—it's a Ginsu knife of cheesy metaphor.
Talking about a single thing evolving through physical and emotional states tends to have a stronger effect than talking about a sequence of unconnected things, each of which happens to occupy different physical and emotional states. Evolution creates a narrative; presenting description in the form of a narrative makes emotional identification easier. The thing that undergoes changes becomes a character, and therefore "someone" with whom your listener can emotionally identify.
For the greatest effect, make every image you conjure up with words go through at least three transformations, with every transformation accompanied by some emotional shift.
If you're comparing surrender to, say, the experience of a droplet of water, at the moment it crosses over the edge of the Niagara Falls, say something like this: "At the moment it breaks from the stream--the moment its simple, forward progress is interrupted—the moment it breaks from routine and its old life, there is that moment of shock—but then, as it twists and turns in the air, as it begins its descent, as it expands and spreads wide, there is the feeling of discovery, the feeling of possibility. Sometimes, you know you're experiencing something intense, and you just have to open up and take it all in. And as the droplet finally slams into the raging surface below, its false, internal limits broken as it joins the wider river, its spreading surfaces are overcome with joy at having been able to experience this surrender, knowing that the experience will now lead to even more powerful experiences, just because the experience of surrender to something powerful and important is now deepening in intensity..."
You can further intensify the impact of your description by incorporating multiple senses. That is, you can describe how something looks, sounds, feels, smells, and tastes—its color and shape, tone and rhythm, texture and weight, fragrance, and flavor—and with every additional sensory description, you pull your listener further into the hallucinatory world and the emotions that you are describing. Not only can you describe a thing's sensory attributes, but you can hallucinate its metaphorical attributes. If the feeling of excitement that you are describing were a color, what color would it be? Would it be warm or cool, heavy or light? Would it taste like caramel, like strawberry?
To evoke a state, talk about it at length and "paint a picture" of the state with words, while acting as if you are feeling it yourself.
1. To evoke an emotion well, use a great deal of sensory detail. Specify what was sensed both externally and internally—what you saw as well as what you pictured in your mind, what you heard around you as well as what you said to yourself.
2. To evoke an emotion well, look and sound and act as if you are feeling the emotion you are describing. The better you demonstrate it, the better she'll feel it.
3. Use as many sensory channels as possible.
4. Use metaphorical, hallucinatory sensations to enrich your description; use metaphors to describe metaphors.
5. Describe your images as going through at least three changes, every physical change accompanied by an emotional change. When a particular thing undergoes a series of changes, it becomes a character within a storyline, and a creature with which your listener can identify. In this way, even inanimate objects can become characters and sources of emotional identification.
6. Talk and talk and talk about the emotion you want to evoke.
VII. Pumping Feelings into Other People
Before we examine the structure of female emotion, and therefore how to rapidly induce intense emotional states in women using words alone, we're first going to cover some basic techniques for ramping up anyone's feelings.
These basic techniques are extrapolated from a communications model called Neurolinguistic Programming, or NLP. Created by Richard Bandler and John Grinder, NLP seeks to describe what people think and do in terms of combinations of internal and external sensory experiences. The specificity of its approach makes it useful for communicating internal processes—emotions and ideas—to other people, and thereby getting other people to feel what you want them to feel.
Communicating powerfully is about inducing emotional states in other people. Not random emotional states, because everyone induces emotional states in other people all the time—oftentimes, the wrong emotional states--but specific emotional states, the emotional states you want, the emotional states that will produce the results you want and give you real satisfaction.
Let's consider, briefly, some of the tools and principles of powerful communication.
A. Verbal Stimulation
First, the principle of stimulation, also known as "The Pink Elephant Principle," because when I tell you not to think of a pink elephant, not to imagine its pink trunk, not to think of its tail flicking back and forth, not to think of its big floppy pink ears, you inevitably think of a pink elephant anyway. To make sense of what I'm saying, you create in your mind some experience of a pink elephant—what it would look like, or the sounds it would make, or what its skin would feel like under your hand. What you describe, your listener will experience, if only to understand what you are saying. The more vivid your description, the more your listener will respond as if he or she is directly experiencing what you describe, with all the emotions that follow from the experience.
B. Don't Equals Do
This is a corollary of the Pink Elephant Principle. When I tell you not to do X, or that there's no such thing as X, or that X is impossible, you still imagine X and feel a response to X. "There's no way you can use words to touch women's deepest emotions and arouse them fantastically quickly." "Don't think about using these techniques over and over again, until they're as natural as breathing." "Don't think about what it would feel like to fall in love right now." "There's no way you can fall in love with me."
Make your description vivid by using specific sensory details— colors, sounds, textures. You can make reference to a lagoon, or you can evoke an experience of a bowl of water nestling, hidden between two high banks, with the light blue water's surface glittering beneath the sun, one edge churning beneath a small waterfall, the tiny crests created by the falling water glinting again and again, as the water moves in a leisurely flow into the jungle which surrounds it. Words exist to create experiences in those who hear or read them—the listener converts what he or she hears into visual images, tactile feelings, sounds, smells, and tastes. You can make the listener's experience much, much richer by stating explicitly what to see and hear and feel. When you do this, your listener, instead of needing to interpret your language with her intellect, will respond with her imagination, and therefore her body and her emotions. Abundant imagery can entrance her and lead her into a fantasy world.
Similarity creates emotional connection, agreement, and comfort— the more similar your listener feels, the more thoroughly she will respond physically and emotionally to the imagery you present. Also, the greater the degree of rapport—the greater the degree of comfort and connection--, the more easily and readily will she supply relevant meanings for whatever vague, abstract language you employ. Simply put, the greater the degree of your rapport with your listener, the more persuasive and powerful your words will be.
That said, how do you create rapport? Number one, Matching your listener's outward expressions—that is, her bodily rhythms and physical state. Number two, acknowledging or, better yet, seeming to match your listener's inner world—that is, her perceptions, beliefs, and assumptions.
1 You can match your listener's bodily expressions in some of the following ways: Adopt your listener's posture, so that if she's standing, you stand also; if her arms are crossed, you cross your arms also; if she's plowing her hand through her hair, you run your hand through your hair also. For that matter, when she blinks, you can blink also; when she inhales, you can do the same. You can even talk.. .at the same tempo.. .that your listener.breathes. This is called hypnotic tempo, and has a very. powerful. impact. on whoever...is listening. Your mirroring should become more and more exact; subtle and partial at first, then more and more complete. Typically, when it comes to rhythmic behavior, like blinking, a feedback loop will be established: she'll blink, you blink back, and then she'll blink back faster, etc. Matching someone's behavior causes them to feel similar to you, and as the feeling of similarity strengthens, they'll begin to match you in response.
2 You can also match someone's beliefs, emotions, and ideas. In fact, when you say several things in a row which match someone's beliefs, they start focusing on what you're saying to the exclusion of other input. Why? Because you are giving them the truth, as they perceive it, and the unconscious mind, the instincts, crave good, accurate feedback. Therefore, when you tell people things that match what they already believe or that match what their senses tell them, they feel close to you, focus on what you're saying, and respond much more powerfully to whatever you tell them—in fact, if you say many many things in a row that match their beliefs, they will go into the focused, emotionally engaged, emotionally accepting state we call trance.
How do you know what to say, in order to match your listener's beliefs? Well, sometimes you don't know—so just use vague language, language that doesn't specify how what you are talking about looks like, feels like, sounds like, tastes like, or smells like. Let your listener's imagination fill in the gaps. Why should you use vague language? Because if you have rapport—if you are matching the listener's beliefs, so that your listener begins to instinctively trust what you say—your listener will fill your vague, abstract language with content which is meaningful and appropriate to her. If you say, "I saw a great painting the other day—its colors were rust and purple and yellow and black," well, she might not think those colors are the basis of a beautiful painting. You might break rapport. If you just say, "I saw a beautiful, beautiful painting the other day," and look and sound as if you were, at that very moment, seeing a beautiful painting, that would likely be quite sufficient to help her feel as if she was seeing a beautiful painting. Vagueness helps you avoid disagreement and thereby preserve rapport. An abstract word, a word with no specific sensory information—no indication as to what should be seen, heard, felt, smelled, or tasted—is like a big net being dragged through the ocean. An empty word, backed by rapport, gathers meaning and substance, just as the net, though empty, catches fish, and gathers weight. The greater your rapport, the more likely your listener will fill the net with meanings that he or she will agree with, which in turn will deepen her rapport and lead her more deeply into a receptive state. This is why many hypnotists, and many politicians, and many preachers, beyond a certain point in their presentations, speak almost entirely in abstractions. They've matched your beliefs, secured the trust of your instincts, and built emotional momentum, so now they can be increasingly vague while the vague things they say seem increasingly true and feel increasingly compelling. Be specific, describing things in terms of the senses, to engage the imagination; be similar, to create rapport; and then be vague, to encourage your listener's imagination and emotions forward in the directions you've established. Once you secure rapport, vagueness intensifies rapport.
When you present a story, your listener tends to go into a relaxed, receptive state--a trance--and feel the emotions that the characters in the story feel; they will apply these emotions to the present moment and situation. This is why good public speakers so often tell stories—they're an express lane to the emotions. When you tell lots of stories about people getting excited and being motivated and making lots of money, for example, your listeners will start to get excited and motivated and they'll start thinking about making money. When you tell someone stories about people falling in love or people having sex, she'll start to think about what these things feel like, and she'll become aroused.
And because you are talking about other people's experiences, your listener will tend not to be embarrassed—after all, you aren't telling her to fall in love, you're telling her what your friend Karen felt like when she fell in love.
When you use stories, you can even insert direct commands to your listener, without taking responsibility for them. "So this guy said to my friend Tom, 'I want you to remember this! Use lots and lots of stories! People eat stories up and feel what you describe!'" "My friend Julia said this Italian man suddenly stood up, gripped her chin, looked in her eyes, and said, 'We are going to make love tonight!' Intense, huh?"
Emotions are associative; they get linked to particular stimuli, and one of these stimuli can later revive that emotion, even if there's no logical connection between the stimulus itself and the emotion. If, for example, you had a truly wonderful sexual experience last week with a woman wearing capri pants, you may suddenly find yourself feeling very good the next time you see someone wearing capri pants, even if you don't remember why. Your lover may use a particular tone of voice when she says your name as you are having sex; the next time she uses that voice, even if she's telling you to take out the trash, it may mysteriously evoke good feelings inside you. You can use hand-motions, tones of voice, touches, or anything at all which someone's senses can register in order to create a stimulus-response link (NLPers call these links "anchors"). The stronger the emotion felt at the exact instant the anchor is set, the stronger the emotion evoked when the anchor is "fired" later. The more unusual the anchor, the less likely its force will be diluted in other contexts (a handshake, for example, is not a good choice for an anchor—someone already has lots of associations with handshakes, and is likely to shake hands with many different people and while feeling many different emotions after you set it).
For our purposes, a metaphor is a description of one thing in terms of a second thing, in order to attach some quality of the second thing to the first thing. The second thing is usually specific and concrete, such that it paints a picture in the listener's mind. Here are some examples of metaphor:
"Tom's head is as smooth as a cue-ball."
"Tom's head is like a cue-ball."
"Tom's head is a cue-ball."
These metaphors imply that the first thing, Tom's head, shares an attribute with the second thing, a cue-ball—both things are smooth.
Note that none of these descriptions is literally accurate; a living, shaven human skull cannot be as smooth as a cue-ball. Nonetheless, each of the metaphors above conveys, through exaggeration, the idea of something having a particular quality, in this case smoothness.
When hearing one of the above metaphors, you imagine what a cue-ball looks like and its weight and temperature and texture against your hand; you then have an emotional response to that image and feeling, regardless of what Tom's head actually looks and feels like.
Metaphors are powerful because they bypass our left-brain, analytical faculties; instead of analyzing them, we experience them. They communicate sensory and emotional associations without being constrained by facts or accuracy.
A metaphor directs the listener's imagination and forces the listener to feel a given emotional response; an argument, by contrast, sets forth facts and reasons, which might or might not lead to a particular intellectual conclusion, which conclusion in turn might or might not lead to a given emotional response. One can challenge a metaphor intellectually, but the impact of a metaphor, a concrete image, tends to be strong and lasting: Imagine the tiny figure of Socrates standing on a road, his finger uplifted in cool disputation, his eyes twinkling in knowing superiority, a beautiful thought issuing from his lips, suddenly being hit by a huge blue dirty garbage truck roaring along at 50 mph and so exploding into a messy red stain on the truck's grill.
Get the picture?
You may think about the logical argument, but the metaphor, once experienced, tends to lodge in your mind and continue to affect your feelings.
Metaphors, like stories, are very effective in clusters; if you want someone to feel excitement, use three or four or ten metaphors for excitement.
When it comes to evoking emotions through metaphors and stories, redundancy is a virtue; use as many as possible.
You can describe anything in terms of anything else, by using a metaphorabout a metaphor. Example: "I love putting together toy railroads. It's really involving, you know? When you really get going, you're completely swept along. You know, you just, like, feel the current beneath you, moving you irresistibly. It's just like surfing. You know, that way when you're surfing, the ocean just totally takes control, and you're just being carried along for the ride—you just feel this tremendous power driving you. You know, surfing like that, it's just like getting really turned-on, feeling that intense feeling building and warming and intensifying inside you, knowing you're no longer the one in control, because your emotions and desires are running things now." Building toy railroads^surfing^sexual arousal.
A story is a subtle kind of metaphor; a metaphor is a subtle kind of imagery.
1 What you describe, others imagine and feel and experience internally. This is called The Pink Elephant Principle, or stimulation.
2 When you tell someone not to X, or that X is false, they still momentarily imagine and respond to X.
3 Use imagery and sensory detail in your descriptions—specify what your listener should see and feel and hear and smell and taste. This intensifies the emotional power of what you are saying. It also engages the imagination and tends to induce a trance state, such that the listener stops analyzing and naturally responds powerfully.
4 You create rapport and emotional comfort and connection through similarity. You create similarity through mirroring someone's bodily movements and rhythms and/or by saying things which match someone's beliefs and perceptions. When you say many things in a row that match a listener's beliefs, you tend to induce a trance.
5 Use abstractions and vague words to maintain rapport.
6 Tell stories involving emotions and sensations to rapidly induce those same emotions and sensations in your listener, in ways that allow her to feel safe and comfortable.
7 Emotions get linked to sensory stimuli. You can reintroduce the linked stimulus (the "anchor") in order to reintroduce the emotion.
8 Metaphors bypass intellectual objections and cause strong emotional responses.
For much more detailed information on these techniques, read our first book, Gut Impact, available from www.sexualkey.com.
VIII. A Taste of the Bait
So that you can get a clearer sense of the kind of language that women like, here are a few more examples.
1 Imagine someone saying to you, in a very dramatic, emotional way, "I want to speak. to the deepest part. of who. you. truly. are."
Do you find that statement compelling? Do you find it fascinating, alluring? Does it in fact speak to the deepest part of who you truly are, or does the phrase "the deepest part of who you truly are" seem meaningless or pretentious or ridiculous?
Most men would give you a very funny look if you said that; while you can get them to the point where they would respond powerfully to that statement, it would require a good deal of preparation and trance-inducing oratorical skill. (For the record, a trance is a mental and physiological state during which some sensations are ignored and other sensations, or thoughts, or experiences are experienced very, very powerfully—it's a state which is ideal for learning, and it's the state you tend to enter when something really grabs your attention, for example, when you're falling in love or reading a book or listening to a really good speech.)
Most women would also give you a very funny look if you said something like "I want to speak to the deepest part of who you truly are," but it'd likely be a different kind of funny look. Their eyes might widen, their pupils might dilate, their lips might even part. Far from requiring a trance state to be acceptable, this is the kind of statement that, to women, is so acceptable and eagerly sought that it tends to induce a trance state on its own. When you say something like that, women tend to shut up and listen.
2 "Imagine your heart spreading open, unlocked in a way it's never been before, and feeling my heart's energy come inside you, my heart's energy coming inside you again, and again, and again, as powerful and rhythmic, as sure and relentless, as the ocean's salty tide."
Most men would think that statement was a) utterly trite, an example of the worst and most banal cheap bullshit sentiment imaginable; and b) blatantly, obviously, even alarmingly sexual.
Most women would find it somewhat trite, yes; somewhat heated, yes; but above all emotionally compelling and deeply erotic. The obviously sexual imagery would be rationalized, experienced primarily as imagery of a perfectly legitimate and appropriate passion.
It's not the kind of stuff men often say, but it's the kind of stuff women wish men would say.
3 "It's as though what you most want to feel is locked away, locked in a box of oak and iron, and then suddenly you meet someone who holds a gleaming, golden, oiled key. And this key, inlaid with designs of the most unearthly beauty and intricate workmanship, slides deeper and deeper into the lock, slides so deeply that you wonder whether it will ever stop, until at last it strikes home, and you feel it turning against the lock's inmost chamber, turning...turning...turning...until it clicks, and the lock seems to shudder, and at last the box spreads open, and you feel all that you've so long wanted and waited.and waited.and waited.to feel begin to flood through you."
Again, while that kind of thing is called "purple prose," and you'd probably throw away a Tom Clancy-ish technothriller if it had dialogue like that inside, this is exactly the kind of stuff that can get women who know nothing about you aroused and attracted to you really fast. Notice how much imagery there is—the words paint explicit pictures, and word-pictures bypass your listener's intellect and go straight to the right-brain, the seat of the imagination and emotions. Notice also how much redundancy there is—and it's okay to say basically the same thing over and over, for a couple of reasons. First of all, when you tell a woman something, you aren't only giving her information, you're giving her an experience, and if the experience feels good, she'll want to feel it again. Words, for women, are experiences. Second, almost everyone is highly repetitive in conversation. In speech, unlike the newspaper or a technical manual, redundancy is natural.
Finally, you may have noticed how sexual the language in that example was. I mean, come on--an "oiled key" slides into a box that spreads open and shudders?
Did you notice how sexual that image is? Good. Women won't. Or, more precisely, if you present stuff like that with a straight face and seem perfectly earnest and sincere, women won't mind—in fact, they'll like it a lot. If you act as if you don't realize you're being sexual, they feel free to be sexually aroused by what you're saying—because, hey, you're not talking about sex, you're talking about a key and a box, or an ocean wave pounding the shore, or a flower being made wet by the morning dew.
Remember, women really do process things differently. When you use sexual metaphors, and seem like you don't realize you're being sexual, women will a) get very turned on by what you're saying (assuming you deliver it well, and we'll cover delivery later) b) rationalize that you're not being sexual, you're being passionate and romantic and poetic—and therefore it's okay if their own lustful, depraved imaginations lead them to sexual thoughts and feelings...
1. Women like very different kinds of language than do men.
2. Women like highly descriptive, metaphorical, image-filled language.
3. Words for women are emotional experiences; they therefore enjoy redundancy, because each repetition creates an experience.
4. Language that seems redundant, overwrought, and over-the-top to men often seems poetic, romantic, and erotic to women.
5. Language that seems blatantly sexual to men is easily rationalized as poetic, romantic, and socially appropriate by women, even though this language may arouse them sexually.
IX. The Inward Spiral: an Overview
You can enhance your effectiveness immensely by employing a particular model.
No, this isn't the Elle McPherson kind.
At this stage, we're not yet going to concern ourselves with the bodies of extremely beautiful women, so don't begin reading every new sentence with images of oiled naked beauties writhing in the sun filling your thoughts. As you read, don't keep thinking about how quickly and wonderfully your sex life is going to change as you put into practice what you are learning from this book.
The model we'll now concern ourselves with is a model of the female mind. We call this model the Inward Spiral.
The Inward Spiral's various components and uses we'll explain in subsequent chapters. For now, we will provide an overview, a framework, so that you can see how the pieces of this model relate.
Inward Spiral Overview
1. A woman feels more emotional responses to a single stimulus than would a man; each response is more powerful than the last. Previous emotions, perceptions, and beliefs are modified by present emotions.
2. Because each response, each emotion, is more powerful than the last, she gives attention and priority to her present emotion, rather than the external stimulus that started the chain; the further an emotion is removed from the initial stimulus, the greater is the impact which it has on her decisions.
3. A woman therefore exhibits Subjective Focus: what matters to her is her internal world—her abstract values, her emotions, her emotions about her emotions, and her self-image—rather than the physical, empirical world.
4. The empirical world, with its sights and sounds and smells and tastes, exists to "remind" her of her potential for many and strong emotions, and, more broadly, to teach her about herself and what she "truly" needs.
5. Her emotions naturally cascade; one emotion leads to another, and that, potentially to a third, and so on. The further her emotional chain extends from a given stimulus, the stronger her emotions become, the "deeper" inside herself she goes, and the more she feels she is fulfilling her destiny of self-discovery.
6. Because of the ease with which her emotions cascade, she unconsciously presupposes that any given emotion can lead to another, more powerful emotion.
7. By using many bubblewords in a single sentence, you encourage her to go into trance, with every bubbleword leading her deeper inside herself and stimulating more emotion and pleasure.
8. She doesn't know "who she is," because her emotions are always in flux; her fundamental characteristic is actually her process of cascading from one emotion to the next; nonetheless, finding the "answer" to this mystery is of great importance to her.
9. You can always deepen her rapport with you, and intensify her pleasure, by "reminding" her that whatever she's feeling can lead to her to another, deeper emotion, a feeling of X (where X is some positive-sounding bubbleword).
10. A woman's ideas and feelings about her physical experiences and environment are more important to her than her experiences and environment.
11. Focusing on internal responses—yours or hers—matches her priorities and creates rapport.
The Inward Spiral: the more abstracted an emotion from the original, external stimulus, the greater its impact on her beliefs and decisions.
Continue reading here: Ix
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