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Spot The Alpha

Two photos, side by side, both of men tossed out by their irate girlfriends. We don’t see the men (very clearly) or their women, but we do see the ways in which each was ceremoniously dumped.

Couples counselors and people who read too much Jezebel would think that the man dumped by a very angry girl in dramatic style is despised more than the man calmly shown the door, and that this would mean the former is less likely to enjoy a reconciliation with his jilted woman.

Chateau guests know better. A woman’s indifference, not her hatred, is the opposite of her love.

Beta males are often perplexed by how quickly their ex-girlfriends are able to put them out of mind once the poon party’s over. That is because women never really “imprint” that strongly on dutiful beta male partners. So when the reckoning comes, the women of beta boyfriends are almost giddy with the anticipation of striking out again for alpha male pastures.

Alpha males, in contrast, are rarely perplexed or grief-stricken when dumped, because they know from experience that the odds are very high that the women they royally piss off will come back to them, meekly begging for more of their inscrutably ambivalent attention. An angry outburst from a woman is as good a sign there is that she’s still in love, and won’t stand to be away from the tormentor she loves for long.

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Reader Chris from Dublin pens a stirring love letter to one of 20th Century filmdom’s most iconic (and loveable) alpha male jerkboys, and in the penning touches upon the abiding Heartistian sexual market truths that infuse the movie The Breakfast Club.

It was really only a matter of time before the Chateau would focus on John Bender of ‘The Breakfast Club’.

John Bender , brilliantly played by Judd Nelson (who was 26 at the time of shooting), easily ranks alongside Marlon Brando in ‘The Wild One’ and James Dean in ‘Rebel Without A Cause’ as one of the great cinema badboys, arguably the best of all because of his gritty suburban realism. It is deplorable that Nelson was not at least nominated for an Oscar for his performance and if he does no other work of note, ‘The Breakfast Club’ remains an outstanding achievement of his.

‘The Breakfast Club’ is John Hughes’s best film with a completeness that his other great work, ‘Ferris Bueller’s Day Off’, slightly lacks. What both films share is an enigmatic and deeply charismatic central character around whom the rest of the film orbits. ‘Ferris Bueller’s Day Off’ lacks the ensemble quality of script or performance of ‘The Breakfast Club’ and is also more of a straightforward fantasy (with it being generally accepted that Ferris Bueller is Cameron’s alter-ego, the man who the trapped and frustrated Cameron wants to be). Ferris Bueller is a far less likeable character than John Bender and, although no high-school bowsie like Bender would, in real life, possess the wit and articulacy that Nelson’s character has, this is no shortcoming of the film – it is, as the Chateau points out, a fantasy.

John Bender has an advantage over the characters played by Brando and Dean because, if for no other reason, ‘The Breakfast Club’ has a higher production standard than those films of the 1950’s and, as such, it is easier to watch. By the time John Hughes came around to the height of his career a more liberal attitude and practice had entered mainstream cinema allowing ‘The Breakfast Club’ to use explicit language and themes which would not have been considered in the 1950’s.

In terms of finding alpha moments, ‘The Breakfast Club’ has probably one of the richest repositories of such of any mainstream film. Bender spends nearly all of the film pissing off Princess Claire (Molly Ringwald) but the sexual tension between them grows incrementally and it becomes more and more obvious that Bender has seriously burrowed into her psyche – hear those tingles chime. When Brian interrupts their sexy ‘Moliere’ moment, Bender flings a damaged book at him in rage, but the sexual frisson is unmistakable.

As interesting is the vicious rivalry between Bender and Andrew Clarke (played by Emilio Estevez), the straight and serious beta jock who initially hits on Claire but gets politely declined.

Here’s why ‘The Breakfast Club’ is such a hit – it depicts the three levels of existence:-

Alpha: Bender and Claire
Beta: Andrew / Sporto and Alison / Emo (and they end up getting it on together by the end. Classic beta – Andrew doesn’t get alpha girl and has to settle).
Omega: Brian (who ends up getting nobody).

In that regard it is wrong to describe Brian as the beta nice-guy – Brian is the omega, while Andrew is the beta. Brian knows that he has no chance with an alpha female like Claire and can only fantasise, as Bender exposes him for doing, to his even greater shame. Andrew is not a nice-guy as such but he is a beta insofar as he is committed to conforming and playing within the system. Also his particular type of beta-dom manifests as butt-hurt and bitter rather than ‘nice-guy’. Remember that Brian ended up in detention for having a gun in his locker because he wanted to commit suicide. Andrew ended up in detention because he attacked a weaker boy in the locker room, very likely a subconscious manifestation of his frustration at having been pushed into an athletic lifestyle, to get a scholarship, that he did not want. Indeed, Bender makes a laugh of this scholarship nonsense during the film when he arses around in the gym and is taunting the deputy principal. This is another instance of Bender’s alpha-dom – he has taken a hit for the group by distracting the deputy principal (a great performance from Paul Gleason) while he lays on cannabis for the rest of the group (and see how that would go down in today’s America … !) As an alpha, the young prince is bestowing his weed upon the minions.

This film was released in 1985 and I remember that it made a huge impression upon us over here in Ireland – we were amazed to see how short Judd Nelson really is in real life (the photography had hidden this very well). At the time I was twelve, attending a bourgeois Roman catholic all-boys’ secondary school in Dublin, and Bender was like something from the space age, the man we all wanted to be, or to have like us. In hindsight our school was a deeply damaging environment of papist omega-dom and, in particular, our form teacher was a disgusting omega worm – unmarried, he spent his whole life in the school, engaged in the various ‘activities’ that seem to obsess such places and he boasted of how he had devoted himself to the “welfare of the boys” (* crickets *). I hated him from the start and it is interesting to recall that the other John Bender types at school felt the same way, and wanted nothing to do with him. That school was no proper environment for any impressionable teenage boy and it is significant that I felt the same way then as I do now, in my forties. As a place where adolescents could be moulded to cope with the realities of life it was hopeless and was no example for any boy.

Ultimately John Bender will always be a fantasy character, as the Chateau freely admits, but his defiance remains as inspirational and relevant today as ever before, leaving ‘The Breakfast Club’ as one of the greatest teen movies of all time.

Although the term beta gets tossed around here a bit cavalierly (as a matter of convenience and artistic license), in reality most beta males will wind up with a girl in their lives. The problem is that it will rarely be their first choice. (Omega males are the men who can spend years tormented by their incel.)

Game, or learned charisma, offers beta males the tools to increase their dating market purchasing power and thus to decrease the odds they will have to settle, or to settle very far down the female ladder. Charisma can help all men, but I believe the biggest benefactors are betas, due in part to their lower initial obstacles and to the law of diminishing returns (that latter being the reason why natural alphas are often given to scoffing at game).

In TBC, Bender was an alpha male… he got the hot girl that other guys wanted. Bender was also a specific class of alpha: The lone wolf, rule-breaking, leader of women alpha male who, I understand, would be called a Sigma Male by Vox Day.

In every respect, Bender was that cynical, aloof jerkboy chicks have a habit of falling hard for. He may not have been the most noble, or admirable, or competent man — he may even have had his personal moral and character failings that would disqualify him from leading men — but no one ever claimed that the alpha male was necessarily a paragon of virtue, nor that women would never choose men of Bender’s unruly temperament and poor character over better men. If we were to judge women’s characters by the men for whom they freely divulge their sex, I’d say the ledger of self-abasement is represented equally by the sexes.

Off-topic, Chris adds,

***** OTHER NEWS:-

Social meltdown has hit Ireland. There is a level of social unrest across middle Ireland, across the type of people who would never cause trouble in their wildest dreams, that is unprecedented. There is a particular type of person who, when they become angry, release all hell. It’s not entering the mainstream media of the UK or North America, because the powers that be are too scared. When Ireland explodes it will take the rest of the world with it – it’s begun.

Look up “Irish Water” and “Irish Water protests”.

Bring the flames …

Any Irish CH readers know something about this? What a teaser…

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Possibly the most iconic charismatic alpha male jerkboy in pre-post-America movie history is the character “Bender”, played by Judd Nelson in the (all-white) cult classic The Breakfast Club.

On that topic, a reader writes,

I’ve watched this movie twice this month. You really have to appreciate Bender’s alphatude.

I think it would be fun to hear your take on him. To my surprise I’ve searched around the Manosphere and found zilch. You would think he would be the poster (man) for the Manosphere, at least Alpha of the Month!

Could it be that CH overlooked Bender as Exhibit Asshole of the jerk with the alpha attitude that is diggeth by yon maidens? I searched the archives and, scandaleux!, an ode to Bender is nowhere found. Pry your eyes, time to rectify.

Bender is the classic übercool, sarcastic, brooding, lone wolf neg machine who supercharges the sex fantasies of girls from good backgrounds. He has so many great scenes of game in TBC that it’s hard to pick a favorite, but this one — a quickie in a closet where Bender responds to Claire’s pregnant ASD inquiry about his feelings towards her earlier trick of putting lipstick on herself using only her cleavage — is (IMfactualO) the perfect distillation of charismatic jerkboy game in as few words as humanly possible.

Claire: Were you really disgusted about what I did with my lipstick?

Watch out! This is a scrumptious niblet of beta bait that Clarie tosses overboard to see if Bender goes all goopy on her. Most betas would promptly qualify themselves, along the lines of “no i was just kidding with you. how could i be disgusted by anything you do?”

Bender: Truth?

Bender knows what to do with beta bait. Tug on the line, get the girl excited that maybe you’ve bitten down on the hook, but attach an old shoe instead and watch her face light up when she reels it back onto the boat, happy that her feminine wile was so expertly subdued.

Claire: Truth.

Bender: *nodding as if saying ‘yes’* No. *follows up with award-winning smirk*

Unpredictability and playfulness are the alpha player’s coin of the womb. She expected a straight answer, he responded with a flirtatious contradiction in verbal and physical acknowledgment. In other words, he broke the courtship rules. And she loves him for doing that.

Bender’s alpha attitude is a fusion reactor of gina tingles. His kind is so rare and so in-demand by women that he’s practically his own gender, a subspecies of betamale flaccidus. Why aren’t there more of him, then? Maybe his subspecies is reproductively self-correcting, flourishing only when his numbers in the broader population are low.

The CH series, Great Scenes of Game in the Movies (GSGM), is a useful learning tool for men seeking to become the charming player who sets female hearts fluttering. Movies are fantasy, but fantasy reflects real life desire, otherwise no one would be interested in watching. Art must contain a kernel of truth to have any true effect on viewers.

Browse the archived GSGM entries
here
here
here
here
here
here
here
here
and the one that started it all, here.

PS a girly commenter (swkstudent) to the above Youtube video snippet, shocked and dismayed by what she saw, felt an incredible urge to volunteer this ego-fluffing platitude:

no she likes him because she knows deep down he’s not an asshole and he was honest with her

It still amazes me the lengths to which delicate flowers will go to avoid the bleeding obvious when the bleeding obvious isn’t kind to their comatose belief systems.

swkstudent, you can’t later rationalize your love for a jerk by insisting that deep down he’s not an asshole unless you first know he’s an asshole. Otherwise, Brian, the niceguy in TBC who’s clearly not an asshole and who’s honest with everyone, would be sailing the seas of Claire’s beaver brine. And yet he’s not. Fancy that.

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Check out the WOWJUSTWOW face on this broad (at 4:02) after Gavin McInnes drops a steaming deuce on a Feminist First Principle.

He’s basically right. Most women (read: non-reptiles) are happier raising kids than they are raising profit margins. Most men are happier in the office than they are at home changing diapers. Men and women are different to their cores, and feminism is a project of lies with the goal of eradicating those core differences. And if they can’t succeed at erasing biological reality, they’ll take their consolation prize by mangling public policy and laws until all men and women are miserable.

We need more hardcore pushback against feminism, and more WOWJUSTWOW faces wrested from the wretched witches.

Related: Sheryl Sandberg’s “Lean In” book more likely to hurt women than to help them.

Ms. Sandberg goes clueless on science throughout her book…

Heh.

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Although CH prefers the more direct means of measuring a man’s degree of alphatude, there are proxy methods for coming up with a ballpark figure for the Alpha Within. One such proxy is the amount of shit a woman will put up with from her man. The more crap she happily tolerates, the higher her man’s alpha male rating.

As commenter WillBest explains,

Women are far and away more pragmatic about men’s affairs. I know of several couples that have survived a man’s affair and none that have survived a woman’s affair.

You could probably plot your relative alphaness against what your wife will tolerate.

brothel outside country < … < discrete mistress < rumored affair < open mistress < claiming bastards < having your wife assist in selection of your harem (as seen on Marco Polo).

It’s funny ’cause it’s cruel.

A marriage can survive a husband’s infidelity because the real risk, from the wife’s gene’s POV, is the redistribution of his resources (of which love is a proxy indicator) to the other woman. As long as the husband remains primarily devoted to his immediate family’s finances, his oat-sowing won’t much affect the future of his children or the guarantee of the mother’s “maternity assurance”.

But a wife’s infidelity is much more dangerous to her family’s cohesion. She could get pregnant on one of her slutcations, and saddle her husband with another man’s spawn. (And this would’ve been more likely in the contraception-free environment of evolutionary adaptation.) This is the worst thing that can befall a husband from his genes’ POV. And if he finds out, the whole family may be nuked from orbit.

Naturally, a man’s affair isn’t automatically forgivable. Women aren’t totally inhuman; they will feel the sting of romantic rejection. But it’s true that the more alpha the man, the more tractable his woman. Hell hath no fury like a scorned wife… if her husband is a beta male. Heaven hath no angelic forgiveness like a scorned wife of an alpha male.

This post cries out for a handy dandy chart.

There’s a reason for the exponential trajectory. Observe closely, and you’ll notice most married men are betas whose wives won’t even tolerate their wandering eye without stirring up a storm of martyrdom. But once a man begins taking on the penumbras and emanations of alphaness, his woman’s toleration curve skyrockets. Each increment of alphatude results in a drastic expansion of the scope of caddish misbehavior that a wife or girlfriend will tolerate. At the extremes of male alphatude, their women are complicit in helping their men achieve the limits of sexual and romantic pleasure that are particular to the male domain of desire.

I hope this post has been instructive. May it guide you to better days in your own relationships.

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Everyday Jesus. Discuss.

Nobutferreals, the AOTM is this faceless, orchestrating German man from the years 1969-1970 whose candid photos of his mistress (who is also married at the time of the affair), along with notes he wrote about the affair, were recently discovered hiding in an old abandoned suitcase (zehr romantic!).

We know this because Günter meticulously documented the affair like a compulsive accountant.

Ethnic stereotypes — they don’t materialize out of thin air.

The story would be dull—clichéd even—without the voyeuristic thrill that comes with the intimate details: a married German businessman and his married secretary, Margret, have a brief affair from 1969 to 1970. Everything you see here came from a suitcase purchased at an estate auction 30 years after the affair, and it’s an utterly engrossing collection of artifacts.

So far, so alpha. But what elevates this man from garden variety loverJunge to alpha male of the month is the following detail tucked in the recesses of his l’affaire journal.

At one point, the man’s wife confronts [mistress] Margret, accusing her of disrupting a happy marriage. Margret is furious, and so the businessman then forces his wife to apologize to her.

And there it is. A greater beta male who finds himself balls-deep in an affair would cave instantly when his wife discovered his infidelity and confronted his lover. An alpha male has his scorned wife APOLOGIZE to his mistress for her accusatory insolence! That pivotal conversation as recounted by Günther:

Indeed, his notes reveal that his wife Leni is aware of the affair but chooses to endure the humiliation.

Maxim #50: The wife of an alpha male will stoically endure the worst humiliations while the wife of a beta male won’t tolerate his merest deviation from her impossible expectations.

In one of the first long notes, typed on a page from a calendar, Günther describes a confrontation between Margret and his wife:

[Roughly translated from German]

Monday 7.9.1970: At lunch Leni (Günthers wife) says to Margret: Madame, you are a lesser character, you are disrupting a good marriage.

Tuesday 8.9.1970: Around 10 a clock Margret says to me: You let this insult from your wife against me pass? No more sex, you can jump on your own wife. Whatever you do, you are not allowed to jump on me anymore. [ed: classy lady]

Later, my wife has to apologize to her at lunch on 8.9.1970.

That afternoon they go upstairs again to make love and the note ends with:

Devil salad is eaten. Everything is okay again. 

Before you think this alpha male has oneitis, or is led by the dick by Margret, read on:

He gets involved with other women at the request of Margret who wants him to go on dates with other women, presumably to quell suspicion from her own husband.

There is Giesela, who Günther describes as “sexually starving”, and Ursula, a “big and skinny” 21 year-old who “looks really good. White boots, green dress, black hair.” Günther reveals Margret’s subsequent panicked jealousy, begging him not to fall in love with Ursula. He also mentions that despite him still being involved with Ursula, Margret fights with her husband and asks for a divorce.

When your wife apologizes to your mistress, and your mistress gets jealous of your other mistresses, you might be an alpha male.

And the questions linger. What makes a man document his affair so meticulously? Did he want to preserve the relationship to relive it later? Was this industrial businessman searching for a creative platform to express his love? Or merely the confirmation of his control over the situation, as he mastered the art of adultery?

All of the above. A man’s memories of his lovers and his sexual pleasures will be his most vividly recalled, right into old age. More easily recalled than even the names and ages of his children. A man is roused to creativity by youthful, beautiful women. And a man takes pride in his seductive prowess. This is the way of a man. Yes, a real man.

During one of their “business trips”, Günther makes a list of all the times they made love….

Wednesday 12 Aug. 1970: 17 18.15  1x

Beginning of her period (tampon) Initiation party anyways.

Tuesday 18 Aug. 1970: 15.15 -15. 20.

Yellow chair in front of the aquarium (sitting) 1x

Wednesday 2 Sept. 1970: 17. 05-18.00 1x

With beautiful music, resting afterwards

Günther wasn’t about to let the Red Army stop his initiation party advance. Now, if his mistress hadn’t been a sweet piece of ass, you can bet Günther wouldn’t have thrown propriety to the wind and pressed into the bloody breach, undaunted.

Günther’s testimony proved one of the CH maxims about the power of female youthnbeauty:

Maxim #40: A young, pretty girl is nature’s viagra, capable of exciting an old man who hasn’t seen action in forty years to perform on command.

Postscript: The photos of Margret the Mistress are poetic in their own right. Günther had an eye for fleeting beauty, and doomed romance. Look at these candid snaps. Overlook her dated hairdo for the full impact. Margret has hot little minx face, if ever a woman had it.

PPS No obesity here!

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A reader passed along a screenshot of a text exchange he had with a girl he was trying to bang. He wanted to show how bratty this girl was behaving, tossing shit test after shit test his way, and wondered how he could eventually subdue her, wrest the brat from its chokehold on her id, and get her softly purring like a kitten.

Nick starts weakly. If you know the girl is a nuclear bitch, you’ve gotta make your first swing count. That pimp hand has to make an appearance early to set the tone of the conversation. Nick began like a normal human being, and quickly found out his politeness was ineffective. All his nod to courtesy did was incite Jessica to amazing feats of brattitude.

Right away she calls him Olga. For this reason, I call the style of game designed to tame tankgrrls, Olga Game.

Nick’s reply comes four hours later (he makes her wait as punishment for the ‘tude). He lifts a line straight from CH: “lol bratty mcbrattster”. So far so good.

She plays ball. Another five hours later, she replies “don’t question it hahaha” This chick has squared off with alphas before. I bet she has a clit piercing.

Nick answers two hours later, and amps the asshole a couple of degrees. He pulls out another classic CH line, “littlespoon doesn’t make the rules”. Too little, too late? We’ll see.

Jessica strikes back hard. She thinks she’s being funny, but her last text is tinged with cunty spite. Now I’m convinced that not only does she have a clit piercing, she has taken it up the ass.

I lost the original source for this reader submission, so I don’t know what happened next, or if there was an informative follow-up to this shiv-shaped badinage. All I can tell Nick is that he’s dealing with a hellion, which is bad and good. Bad, because she’ll eat you alive if you show a flicker of beta weakness. Good because if you get through her defenses with your pride intact, she will be the dirtiest slut in bed for you.

Olga Game is essentially script flipping. Girls like Jessica will expect you to continue your hard teasing banter, (and they’ll continue returning equally caustic parries); therefore, the way to win this battle… is to refuse to fight it. Take her mental hamster script and rewrite it. When she expects another emotionally arid jest, respond instead with a faux pose of sincerity, laced with a judgmental pique aimed at her inability to connect like a normal healthy woman.

Jessica Rabid: “no no I think you need to go put on a nice dress blah blah…”

Nick the Iron Dick: “sure, i’ll get on that as soon as you drop the act and be real”

This is thermonuclear script-flipping intended for a very specific audience and context. Gauge wisely. If a girl is a broken record with her endless bitch barrages of return fire, that’s the moment to think about deploying Olga Game. It’s shocking, and for the girl who is used to being shocked by assholes of varying degrees of state control, the “be real” plot change to the stale book of her dating life could be the shock that finally tames her.

Sometimes these sassy chicks get trapped by their own “I’m a tough broad” expectations, and lose the capacity to be emotionally vulnerable around men. Their hearts are as scarred as their vaginas. If you meet one of these girls, think about using that pair of high hearts you have up your sleeve. Make a feint toward vulnerability, however expertly faked, and the hardened trollop may soften up just enough for your penetrating id busters.

Just don’t be stupid about it. Don’t profess your attraction like some warrior poet. A little step back can mean a big leap forward. If she takes the Olga Game bait and backs off a little, you’ve got a chance with her. Now you’re no longer some “fun guy” she feels free to fuck around with because you’re “just another player like all the rest.” Proceed in this manner, extracting genuine emotions, but return to the previous script at inopportune times, like when there’s a sense that the conversation is veering close to sap. Unpredictability will slowly but inevitably switch the chaser-chasee roles into an alignment more favorable for the man’s romantic goals.

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