In yesterday’s post, Days of Broken Arrows made the following observation:
“Fatties also have a problem of unreasonable standards. I don’t think I’ve ever met a fat chick who was not convinced that she was still entitled to a 99-point checklist [Ed: 463 bullet point checklist is the term of art] and a man every bit as desirable as what her younger, thinner self would have bagged.”
I’ve been going through online dating Web site profiles and this statement is DEFINITELY true. It’s disturbing and doesn’t bode well for the country that seriously obese women will put out profiles demanding men be a certain height and weight. WTF?
I don’t spend much time at online dating sites, but I’ve seen the same attitude in real life. It’s preposterous, laughable. Fat chicks who pull the “I’m too good for any man” card are engaging in a very transparent example of sour grapes. It’s easy and emotionally cost-free for a fat chick/old chick/ugly chick/single mommy to have standards no man will meet when most men who aren’t losers couldn’t be bothered to meet her standards in the first place. It’s analogous to crowing about being virtuous when there is no temptation to vice.
Anyhow, in response to DoBA, I wrote:
My take on what’s going on: When you have such horribly low Sexual Market Value that most men find you repulsive, it makes a certain amount of self-gratifying sense to carelessly throw realistic expectations out the window and feed (heh) your ego as a dopamine substitute.
And that’s why you see the perverse phenomenon of so many loser chicks flaunting an unrealistic checklist in men when they themselves have little to offer. It’s not about the men; it’s about them. Their egos must be salvaged before their love lives can be rescued.
Remember, too, that once a girl passes a threshold of sexual inactivity (on average, three to six months), she slips more easily into quasi-involuntary celibacy (quasi, because there is always a loser who will dump a five second fuck in a low SMV girl if she’s willing to swallow (heh) her pride) than a man would. Women are built like worker bees in that respect; once acclimated to celibacy and the dull drone of useless paper-pushing office life, they forget the joys sexual abandon. Or, perhaps, rather than forget, they simply don’t experience the same vital urgency to renew sexual relief the way men do. Consequently, it’s easier for a woman in asexual frigidity mode to maintain a facade of high standards that she must know on a subconscious level will never get her sex and commitment, or even a second date, from the men she wants.
And this phenomenon is more acute amongst fat chicks who were once thin. They fondly recall what it was like to be pursued by men, to turn away those who didn’t meet their expectations, and to experience the thrill of men attempting to satisfy their demands, doing it all for the top-notch nookie. But now, as a fatty (or a cougar or a single mom or an acid burn victim), the men they find desirable shun them and, adding insult to injury, the beta males who once lacked the confidence to approach now hit on them with a grating expectation of success.
What’s a put-upon woman to do? Right. Lie to herself. Happy feelings on the cheap. Better yet, surround herself with yenta friends who will abet her self-delusions.
But neither of the quotes above are the comment of the week. That honor belongs to “uh”, who replied to both of us:
There’s not enough neurochemical payoff for a [fat] woman in admitting the truth to herself if the choice is between that and easy self-affirmation. Given that choice, which may be thought of as a false consciousness imposed/reinforced from above (media), and laterally (other women), the woman becomes alienated from true acceptance of herself as a relational being and enters the narrow straits of denial. Neurochemically this almost resembles the pathway of cigarette addiction: cheap self-affirmation gives quick temporary rewards necessitated only by the presence of the toxin — the subnarrative itself.
This is a concise and penetrating explanation of the common female frailty herein known as Absurd Standards Syndrome (ASS). Insulated by the PC media, glam mags, academia, beta suckups and female friends, women have lost touch with their rank relative to other women and are thus finding it easy to slip into a comfortable bubble of self-delusion. Similar to cigarette addiction, the quick dopamine fix — necessitated by the subnarrative, as uh puts it — trumps the harsher acceptance of personal flaws that must be remedied by willpower and self-control (or simply accommodated) to achieve longer term and more fulfilling rewards, or to come to terms in a dignified manner with one’s diminution of mate choice. This subnarrative toxin, an effluvium of pretty lies, perpetuated by feminists, groupthink apparatchiks and fat acceptors alike, is the wicked poison that courses through the sludgy veins of the Western woman, corroding her from the inside out until she is a mere husk of the feminine ideal that once held sway over the hearts of men. Well done, uh.
Men — particularly internet nerds without a hope of meeting a woman in real life — suffer from this syndrome as well, but not nearly to the same degree that it perplexes women. As has been explained before on this blog, the reason ASS afflicts women more than men is because men, as the chosen sex, have to be more in touch with reality to get what they want in the dating market. A deluded man is quickly a celibate man. A woman in her prime, on the other hand, can stand around looking good, ignorant of the rules of mate choice reality, and men will hit on her… until reality rudely turns against her.
Interestingly, uh’s comment has parallels with the denial inherent in economists’ inability to grasp that the drive for relative status is a bigger motivator of human behavior than the urge to maximize utility. (Want to watch a libertardian squirm? Bring up the subject of status jockeying.) Economists, stuck in the narrow straits of the rational actor (their toxic subnarrative), have become alienated from the commonsensical wisdom that humans are relational beings who sometimes do seemingly inexplicable things just to gain status points over a neighbor. Like fat chicks on an ego-assuaging bender, economists in thrall to their theories have forsaken the long hard look at human nature in favor of the quick pleasure fix of aggregate demand and open borders circle jerk pontificating.
The impetus for our economic decisions is not so far removed from the mechanism guiding our mating decisions. Quite the contrary; economics is servant to sexuality — the one market to rule them all.
Solution: people of good (and not so good) intent must strike at the heart of the toxic subnarratives, killing them and salting the neuronal fields in which they grow, unafraid of the certain immune response it will spastically trigger, before the human psyche (and body) can be healed. The way to kill the subnarratives is one this blog has stressed countless times, and which we here happily, some might say sadistically, pursue — The Three Rs of human psychological manipulation:
Progress will be slow at first, but momentum will inevitably build. It only takes 10% of a population holding an unshakable belief to cause that belief to be adopted by the majority of the society. Your goal of spreading better ideas is not as out of reach as you imagine. Alinsky leftists and ideological warriors have known this fact about group dynamics for generations. It’s time for you to know it too.