Archive for the ‘Alpha’ Category

James Franco is an A-list Hollywood actor who could have women fellating him within fifteen minutes with an inviting smile, so it would be surprising if his text game read like it came from a tone-deaf beta sperg. Or would it?

in case you didn’t know, i’m a really famous dude

don’t i look like a brooding james dean in my avatar?

i mean the # of inches you can take

autistic? or accustomed to easy lays?

he just has that “x” factor.

A normal non-famous man without compensating attractive personality traits would bomb badly running Franco get-to-the-point anti-game right out of the gate. But Franco is not a normal man; he’s famous, and Fame Game is the most powerful game known to exist in the universe. Franco has likely had no problem throughout his starfucked life getting laid when he wants, so he has been conditioned by his experiences with eager beavers that anything beyond minimal “name, rank, phone number” is unnecessary effort. His SMV is so high he could condense his courtship displays to pointing at his crotch. It would therefore be a mistake to draw lessons from Franco’s text game and apply them to the average aspiring womanizer.

But even the gravitational pull of Fame Game will yield to the electromagnetic push in the opposite direction of needy omega-ish anti-game. Women HATE HATE HATE desperate beta behavior maybe more than they LOVE LOVE LOVE famous men. It appears here that Franco’s charmless interrogation was sufficiently off-putting to ruin his chance with a springtime fresh Scottish lass. As a commenter put it, “Dewd gave her the social validation she craved, and is now in damage control mode.”

More than a few celebrities could use a dollop of game (as well as a primer in discretion). Some readers have shared stories of celebrities they overheard in the act of hitting on women, and they recall how surprised they were by the celebrity’s incongruous beta behavior. Being famous doesn’t necessarily mean being a smooth seducer. Presumably, these hapless actors either fell into their fame by accident, or they are so accustomed to women making all the effort to bang them that they regress to an M.O. of sheepish grins and stilted interview-style questions, perhaps resorting to handlers to do the actual dirty work of arranging face-to-face meetings with their hoped-for conquests.

Funny enough, the best part of Franco’s text game was near the end, when he wrote a curt “bye” to the girl. The threat of his disappearance suddenly loosened her tongue and switched her id gears from chasee to chaser. It was a helpful reminder of his incalculably numerous sexual market options.


To head off the mewling nancyboys and nurse ratcheds menstruating about age of consent and “creepy older men”, a strong dose of reality: It’s as creepy for older men to lust for nubile teen girls bursting with secondary sexual characteristics as it is for teen girls to lust for older male stars bursting with charisma. That is to say, not at all. The necessity of drawing arbitrary legalistic AOC boundaries to thwart genuine pedophiles to the contrary, it’s totally normal and sexually healthy for older men to be aroused by the sight, scent and aural sphere of sprightly teenflesh. Nothing abnormal about it. Of course, whole edifices of cultural baggage to shame and contain that natural male impulse have been erected (heh) by threatened older women and beta males on the receiving end of the fallout from unchecked alpha male romantic pursuit and the delight of their pursued.

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You’ve ever inconspicuously texted under the table or called from the bathroom another girl while you were on a date.

You’ve ever snuck out on a date going badly.

You’ve ever bailed on a date because you met a hotter girl in the interim.

You’ve ever walked into a first date’s apartment, made a bee-line for her bathroom, pissed on the seat, farted loudly, exited, and strolled up to her to plant a passionate kiss.

You’ve ever held two simultaneous relationships, one for “appearances”.

Your women get carried away and relent to raw dog in the heat of the moment.

You’ve ever brazenly lied to a woman to cover up an infidelity. And didn’t feel bad about it.

You’ve ever banged a woman while another woman’s life force was still adhered to your dick.

You’ve ever said “Are you fucking kidding me?” to an attractive woman.

You’ve ever banged a woman in public, within view of families.

You’ve ever legitimately forgotten about a woman you started dating. Super alpha bonus points if you met her on the street and had to stare blankly for five seconds before recollecting.

You’ve ever forgotten a woman’s name up through the third date. And didn’t bother apologizing for it.

You’ve ever steadily pressed for sex beyond three half-hearted “No”s, and achieved your goal.

You’ve ever replied more than an hour later after a girl texted, and it wasn’t a calculated maneuver. You genuinely didn’t feel like putting in the effort.

Girls cum with you in every sex position.

You’re not the one who’s nervous.

You’ve rarely had to wait past the third date for sex.

You’ve ever flirted with girls when every social expectation at the time was that you shouldn’t.

You’ve ever taken a call from a girl while another girl was sleeping naked against your bare chest.

You’ve ever walked away from a long-term relationship out of boredom.

You’ve ever had to deal with a pregnancy scare.

A girl has ever cried for you.

You’ve dumped more often than you’ve been dumped, and when the latter happened you rarely had a dry spell longer than a month.

You’ve ever scheduled two dates for the same night. Super alpha bonus points if both dates ended in bangs. Super alpha doubleplusalpha bonus points if both dates ended in bangs together.

You’ve ever banged a girl on the first date without either of you using the disinhibition elixir of alcohol.

You’ve ever dated a girl who was persuaded to, temporarily at least, acquiesce to your insistence on a one-way sexually open relationship.

You’ve ever acquired an honest-to-god stalker. (This may be indisputable proof of alphaness.)

You’ve had girls approach you and solicit you for a drink, or even sex.

You’ve ever taken a girl home without needing an excuse to coax her compliance.

You’ve ever had a girl call you an asshole not long before she succumbed to intimacy.

You’ve ever had a girl spend more on you than you on her before she offered her sex.

You’ve ever been eagerly paraded in the presence of your girlfriend’s ex-boyfriend.

You’ve ever had a girlfriend accuse you of cheating, even when you weren’t.

You’ve ever truly, madly, deeply loved two girls at the same time. And they loved you back.

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1. Girls love selfish badboys.

2. Nonconsensual erotic rape fantasies are more common among women than previously thought.

3. Girls love dominant men who take what they want.

4. Girls hate men who do as they’re told.

5. Girls hate sensitive, emotionally available men.

6. Girls love men who take charge.

7. Girls love it when men touch them without asking.

8. Girls love men with “appetitive-aggressive” tendencies.

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Romeo Had Game

A dataslut at FiveThirtyEight tallied the lines each pair of characters spoke to each other and found that Romeo was following Poon Commandment V.

Juliet speaks 155 lines to him, and he speaks only 101 to her. His reticence toward Juliet is particularly inexcusable when you consider that Romeo spends more time talking than anyone else in the play.

And yet these two are the most famous star-crossed lovers in literature. Romeo knew, or more precisely Shakespeare knew, that women — and female readers — love a man who doesn’t give away the store.

In general, Shakespeare’s female lovers lavish a larger share of their lines on their men than the men do on them. This is true not just of “Romeo and Juliet,” but of “Macbeth,” “The Taming of the Shrew” and all four couples in “A Midsummer Night’s Dream.” The only real exceptions, tellingly, occur in the plays where the women pose as men: “Twelfth Night” and “The Merchant of Venice.” (Antony and Cleopatra spend roughly equal shares of lines on each other.)

:lol: There’s more egalitarian relationship communication when the women pose as men. Says it all, really. But you feminists keep telling manboobs to emote like girls; that’ll really make them more attractive to women.

Forget modern culture in its totality. Everything important you need to know about men and women you can find in the works of Shakespeare.

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The Sochi Winter Olympics opening ceremony suffered a minor glitch when one of the Olympic ring lighting props malfunctioned. Naturally, the glitch made above-the-fold, wall-to-wall coverage in the Western leftoid press for days, who, for reasons that are becoming clearer by the day, have suddenly discovered a simmering hatred for Russia they never had when Stalin ruled the motherland with a bloody iron fist.

Amusingly, Russian Olympics officials pulled a little twist during the closing ceremony. Dancers mimicked the malfunctioning opening ceremony ring in a gesture of humorous self-deprecation.

This is classic Agree & Amplify Game. Faced with a world-stage embarrassment and a shit testing Western media, Russians summoned their inner alpha male, amplified to the point of absurdity their faux pas, and in so doing recaptured the enviable dominant ground of the charming bastard.

Game is often mistaken as a limited blueprint useful only for picking up chicks, but it’s so much more. Once you understand that game — aka applied charisma — is psychological mastery over human perception, you begin to grasp its applicability to every human social sphere. Politics, business, family… there is hardly a context in which game isn’t a valuable skill to leverage.

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Beta Male Takeaway Game

This stunt should go down in the annals of pickup artistry as one of the wowjustwow-iest takeaways ever foisted on a girl.

It appeared to be the beginning of a sweet, Valentine’s Day ad in an Australian newspaper, popping a “very important” question. But its cliffhanger ending leading into a secondary ad will leave you hoping the girlfriend has a sense of humor.

The ad:

Beta Male Takeaway Game is a very effective attraction trigger. You posture as if you’re about to commit an egregiously supplicatory beta act of romantic abandon, and then, just when she’s fully braced for an awkward moment and her creep radar is pinging… you pull the rug out from under her with a surprise ending. Result: Tectonic tingle shift.

Why is the beta male takeaway so powerful an attractant of women? To answer that, you need to put yourself in the tiny shoes of the female rationalization hamster. Women of prime childbearing age instinctively know they are the more reproductively valuable sex. This foreknowledge influences their perception of the world, and their expectations of male behavior. Call it “cooter-colored glasses”. Women interact with men, whether nascent lovers or acquaintances, with the belief that yearning, suck-up beta male pleadings will be men’s default operating mode. And they aren’t dissuaded often enough to jettison that belief. Any fulfillment of her expectation of predictable beta male behavior disappoints her even as it occasionally elates her; but romantically inexperienced men don’t know this because women are skilled at concealing that disappointment when it personally advantages them.

So the rare bad boy who defies her expectations is a real treat for her twat. Female sexual arousal sits very close to the brain modules housing the female senses of danger, caprice, and drama. A woman defied is a woman alive.

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When Alpha Males Square Off

Can you spot the alpha-iest alpha who ever alpha’ed?

A hushed crowd gathers at a safe distance round the two great white beasts… lords of their jungles… locked in a struggle predetermined by ancient custom and cosmic law. They slowly circle, gazes unwavering, searching for a flash of weakness in cold orbs of blue ice that have seen much. Stalking and circling, bodies taught under the veneer of custom suits and polite banter, prepared to spring to action. Their minds electrified with the weight of the rapprochement, jowls flaring a crimson warning. The winner will acquire mating rights to the loser’s concubines, and oh my is that a lot of concubines. The women on the losing side will wail and gnash their teeth, but only for a moment before regrouping and surrendering with barely concealed relief and joy to the carnal caretaking of the new king…

It’s just a snapshot of two human silverbacks in the wild, but these frozen totems at the pinnacle of their male power give us clues to the subtle undercurrents of intention and the restrained but fraught posturing that accompanies the spectacle of an alpha male face-off. It doesn’t happen often — super alpha males tend to give each other a wide berth in their natural habitats — so when a direct clash of caliphs does happen it’s occasion to clear the arena for a primetime show.

Both of these potentates have strong alpha male body language. You would expect nothing less than ramrod straight backs, squared shoulders and jutting chins from two men who are accustomed to ordering successful assassinations and plowing ass ten to a bed. Their faces are expressionless, void of the slightest twinkle of a smile in the eyes or mouth, and this too is expected when two high status men, trained by decades of accumulating a mountain of lessers and climbing over their prostrate souls, confront one another and must ascertain the other’s sentiment without revealing clues to their own emotional state. Wry smiles are affordable when one’s potential antagonist is a beta male; such an amiable gesture signals a vulnerability that the high status can easily indulge. But on the battlefield of equals, the crowd unsure which prince to line up behind, the smile is stashed lest the men risk an accidental tell of submission.

For a deeper analysis, we need to locate small details that evade cursory examination. Eye contact is important here. Putin is locked like a polonium-tipped bullet on DiCaprio’s eyes. His stare communicates, if a communique can be discerned, that he is alternately bored by this dog and pony show and pleased with the passing thought that he could… radically alter… Leo’s life trajectory with a word.

DiCaprio’s eyes, unfortunately, are obscured by the camera angle, so we can’t know if he’s meeting Putin’s pupils or looking askance as Putin sizes him up. We’ll give him the benefit of the doubt and say the former.

Super Alpha Male Score (SAMS) so far: Putin 1, DiCaprio 1.

Putin is not a tall man. Yet in every photo of him, he appears capable of adeptly adjusting his posture and gaze in the company of taller men. The proof of this is that you hardly ever see a picture of Putin and immediately think “Damn, he’s a short man.” He leaves a taller impression on the viewer. DiCaprio has natural gravitas due to his relative height, an advantage which Putin must neutralize. And he does, with a jaunty cock of the head and careful refusal to raise his chin too high to accommodate DiCaprio’s elevated presence. For this impressive feat, we must award Putin.

SAMS: Putin 2, DiCaprio 1.

Sadly, as the CH giveth, the CH taketh away. Note Putin’s drink; he’s holding that snifter too high up his torso, a classic  habit of defensiveness. Keep that drink by your waist, Comrade!

SAMS: Putin 2, DiCaprio 2.

Putin’s face seems more relaxed, but his carriage more tense. DiCaprio appears a little more relaxed throughout the shoulders and upper back. Leo’s brow is more knitted, though, which gives him the look of a man who is trying too hard to appear tough, or who is struggling with constipation. This one’s a wash.

SAMS: Putin 2, DiCaprio 2.

Now what? When direct comparison is limited, we turn to the adoring gaze of the crowd. The alpha male is as much a creation of the perceptions of the people who eagerly draft in his wake as he is a locus of his own alphaness. This crowd is fixed on DiCaprio. Putin may as well be another gawker.

If we stop here, and it would be reasonable to do so, the winner of the Super Alpha Male Square Off can be declared.

SAMS: Putin 2, DiCaprio 3.

Not much more to say, you say? Hold on, CH judges are privy to documents and dossiers that alter the complexion of the proceedings. We are fairly certain that DiCaprio has never slyly called out the ethnic composition of the first Soviet government and trolled the entirety of the Western world’s media.

SAMS: Putin: Irrepressible chutzpah, DiCaprio: Fancyboy.

Vlad, your trophy has been delivered to your country estate.

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