Dave the Dragon Slayer

I woke up this morning and heard Van Halen’s “Ain’t Talkin’ ‘Bout Love” on the radio. It was released with the band’s debut album in 1978, as second-wave feminism locked in the new social rules for women. Never mindful of the law of conservation, greedy feminists thought they could have IT ALL. Read the fine print, bitches: IT ALL minus the banksters’ share when and how they want it.

This was the political scene in those days, per Wikipedia:




  • The Oregon v. Rideout decision led to many American states allowing prosecution for marital and cohabitation rape.[126]
  • The Pregnancy Discrimination Act banned employment discrimination against pregnant women in the U.S., stating a woman cannot be fired or denied a job or a promotion because she is or may become pregnant, nor can she be forced to take a pregnancy leave if she is willing and able to work.[127]
  • The Equal Rights Amendment’s deadline arrived with the ERA still three states short of ratification; there was a successful bill to extend the ERA’s deadline to 1982, but it was still not ratified by then.[92]

As a youth, I thought Diamond Dave was basically a predatory monster, or glorifying that image I held to be ugly at least. I’m guessing Eddie did not write the lyrics. Dave’s side business of sexual gratification on the road is legendary. Word is he used a grid system to identify women in the audience to his liking, and he paid a $100 sex bounty to staffers.

Now I know from evolution theory that whether Dave was a drive-thru sex baron as a privileged fop or an enlightened pragmatist does not really matter. Natural selection does not discriminate and the two blend indistinguishably into one, either as complete fact or as appearances on the one dimension of sexual gratification. Other dimensions? Dave comes from a Jewish family of wealthy surgeons, trained to be a paramedic on emergency calls in New York City in 2004, and perhaps kept Eddie Van Halen from the enterprising clutches of Gene Simmons. Either way, whatever his character motivating his turnkey sex operations on tour, David Lee Roth was waaaaaaaay ahead of the curve among American men in the late 1970s. “Ain’t gonna talk about love, no more, no more, ahhhhhhh!!!”

Note how he efficiently worked an interlude in the song, both videos. Dave was a seducer giant. He opened the group, how-every-many thousands, and then banged the one or few targets he was after with the direct assistance of herbs. His calibrated manipulation of social dynamics then in his prime would probably make today’s Erik von Markovik blush just a little if he could be there to witness it with his own naked, steamin’ eyes and ears. As a little kid raised with dutiful guilt as my companion, I never thought in a million years I’d want to be like monster Dave. Now I realize what a monster is. I am a monster slayer in training. I ain’t listening ’bout love no more from the siren monsters of the boudoir nor the financial wizards who have alpha beguiled them from afar.

Cherchez la femme.

—‘Reality’ Doug, 03 February 2013


About ‘Reality’ Doug

I'm feed up with herd people, so civil and uncivilized, these feckless barbarians with manicures. Where is Galt's Gulch? and where are the people to go there? Who am I? Who is John Galt?
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