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Archive for the ‘Beta’ Category

Think girls don’t know about their complicity in creating safe friendzones for beta male orbiters to asexually occupy?

“Bring the movies”, this guy is not. Even his winky emoticon looks beta, like it’s not sure if the wink is too forward and might anger her.

As far as slap-downs of uppity beta males go, this one is hardcore. Combination shit test and pure sadism, an unbiased observer would have a cold heart if he didn’t feel any pity for the hapless beta. And, to be fair, not many men of whatever SMV ranking would be able to agilely parry that uppercunt and come out on top. But we here at CH mold men who are capable of taking on the hardest of ballbusters and turning those hissing broads into purring kittens.

With that in mind, Reader Ronin throws down the gauntlet,

[W]rite in with your best Captain SlapAHo responses to Emily that this guy could give if he weren’t a beta and/or in the LJBF in the first place.

Many commenters gave suggestions.

“you wish”

***

“we’re friends?”

***

I think a neg-reframe is the best way to redirect this ship:

“What was that? Your crotch bulge was distracting me”

***

Radio Silence.

***

the ascii johnson

***

You can’t come up with a good answer to this that’s also congruent with his chat until then. He should have teased her about not using makeup instead of kissing her ass and I’d stay away from asking girls how their day has been. Generally, they will volunteer information if they want to talk about it. Asking people the question he did just shows he doesn’t know what to say or it’s what I make of it.

‘what’s a friend zone? does it have a roller coaster?’

******

A CH similar favorite (perhaps not best suited to this occasion) is:

“You flatter yourself.” (Or “don’t flatter yourself” if you’re dealing with a real temptress requiring a sharper edge.)

All of the suggestions are serviceable, only a couple are particularly good. You can’t go wrong with a “8===>~~~”, or a Birthday Cat. The best suggestion is the neg-reframe, (or as it’s more commonly known, “agree&amplify”). You stand accused of desiring a sup of sweet slit, so why not try refreshing honesty and take her at her word? “Yeah, I’m jizzing in my pants right now thinking about your winning personality.” It’s better than the apologetic alternative, and you have given yourself a chance to turn a female friend into a lover.

Stay away from feigning ignorance about the friendzone (or about your friendship). No chick is gonna buy that act, and you’ll come across try-hard and butthurt. This set-up is difficult for newbs because it’s a real honey trap for betas who are prone to wearing their hurt feelings on their sleeves. That’s why it’s in a post; if you know how to handle the really tough stuff, you’ll glide through the easy pickups.

Yes, this guy started off on the wrong foot. He was two strikes down after he asked her how her day was going (lame) and called her beautiful (lamer). Just about anything he said after that to save face would have seemed incongruent. Given that reality, he may as well try a 180 in his conversational technique and summon his inner jerkboy begging to be released to the wilds. She will balk, naturally, but after a cooling-off period (say, a week), she’d be back, and that’s when he’d finally have a crack at steering their relationship to moister grounds.

What does an inner jerkboy do? He ASSUMES THE SALE.

“Walk me back?”

“Back to that friend zone you just tried to escape from :)”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you.”

Ultimately it comes down to a choice: Do you want to risk losing a female buddy for a shot at fulfilling your deepest desire with her, or do you want to carry on as a eunuch in her entourage satisfied with the faintest eddies of pleasure that ripple your way when she hangs out with you, always a torturous five feet from your insolent erection?

If the former, then dial up your jerkboy to 11, and tempt a fate that, either way, will be a blessing for you.

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A beta orbiter white knight.

Some toolbags you just can’t reach. So you get what we have here, which is the way he wants it… well, he gets it… a pat on the blockhead and blue balls for his years of sexless service guarding the ovaries of a girl his sperm will never see.

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What awaits the typical beta male? Reader FrTedCrilly makes a bloodsport of vivisecting the beta male id.

Sure Game can save a beta orbiter.

Only problem is that beta orbiters often are the most vehement opponents of the sweet science of pick-up, pre- or post-humiliation.

They’ll play the waiting game. And the payoff, if they’re really “lucky”, after years of watching their princess get dumped by Skrillex clones, is a 60,000 dollar wedding and a blank-eyed speech about her soulmate and best friend. And a sexless honeymoon.

The sharpest shiv cuts the cleanest line.

On a less serious note, I do wonder, given the trend to later and fewer marriages, how long sexual market optimists think beta males will put up with being sloppy sixths to carousel-worn vagina switched into semi-arid settling mode? Do honorary Realtalkers believe there won’t be blowback from such an unsustainable societal condition? CH loves the pointillistic details best when framed by the big picture.

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It’s a good idea to avoid the temptation to ask a girl out on a public stage, especially if you don’t know for certain that the girl likes you “that way”. But leave it to beta males to endorse hope over (lack of) experience. A viral video of a teenager prompositioning his lust object to be his prom date ended with what must have felt like the ne plus ultra of humiliating rejections.

She was, naturally, “already seeing someone”.

The beta orbiter’s lament is always being the guy who arrives at his decision for romance too late. And when he does arrive there, his mountaintop announcement is maladroit and swiftly dismissed.

Why is the beta orbiter so clueless about the feelings of the girl he orbits? I’ll tell you what’s likely happening behind the scenes of these public spectacles of romantic rejection.

Stage One Beta Orbiter: He “hangs around” this girl he really likes, but only peripherally. Her proximity, however unattached and fleeting, strengthens his feelings for her. She, of course, is oblivious to his feelings.

Stage Two Beta Orbiter: As his love grows beyond the bounds of possible reciprocation, he projects his passion onto the girl he orbits, actively fantasizing and even beginning to imagine real indications that she is as interested in him as he is in her. She remains oblivious to his feelings.

Stage Three Beta Orbiter: Time definitely does not heal blue balls. The beta orbiter now envisions a day not too far in the future when his p will enter her v. He starts to act weirdly (more weird than usual) around her planetary trap zone, and it is at this point that she suspects his romantic interest, leaving her grappling with feelings of discomfort, but also of manipulative promise. It will be hard for her now to resist her subconscious impulse to use her beta orbiter toolbag for emotional and practical provisioning. Even the sweetest girls can give in to the lure of exploiting loyal, lovestruck beta males for asexual profit.

Stage Four Beta Orbiter: He is so infatuated and hypnotized by her platonic company, he can’t see that jerkboy pinching her on the ass as he walks by and her turning red-faced with aroused embarrassment. All the real life signals are red, and all his fantasy life signals are green. He ignores the obvious lack of interest from her and pays attention only to what he has concocted in his fevered mental masturbatorium. A collision is coming.

Stage Five Beta Orbiter: He can’t contain his feelings any more. The time is ripe! Public proposition, because it can’t fail and he wants the world to know his good fortune, or because he nurses a seed of doubt and thinks a crowd of sympathetic allies will exert just the right amount of pressure on the girl of his dreams. Horrible rejection ensues, hug from mom, lesson learned? Not always. Not often.

A beta orbiter can be rescued by a wise male buddy or mentor, and by learning game, sometime around or before Stage Three. By Stage Four, he’s a lost cause, and he’ll have to endure Stage Five humiliation to snap out of his delirium. That’s what happened to the teenager in the above story. That’s what had to happen.

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It seems hard to believe, immersed as we are currently in a miasma of equalist lies, that there were ever times in America’s rapidly receding past when people shared a generally realistic appraisal of the sexes. But there were. And America’s fruited plains were once populated with Realtalkers. A reader forwards a link to Realtalk, 1920s-style. The subject is “Petting Parties”, which were all the rage during that time.

Soon the lovey-dovey wingdings were popping up all across the country. Southerners sometimes called them necking parties. They were called mushing parties in the West; fussing parties in the Midwest and spooning everywhere, the United Press noted later in 1921. Eventually some flappers began referring to party-petting as snugglepupping.

It’s almost weird to read about a time when America was so culturally unified, and this despite massive waves of Eastern European immigration happening then.

A game-aware nugget of Realtalk is tucked into the story:

“Girls like to be called snuggle-puppies,” one school administrator told the reporter. “They grant the boys liberties. Encourage them to take them and if the young chaps do not, they are called ‘sissies’, ‘poor boobs’ or ‘flat tire.’ ”

Heartiste Poon Commandment XIII: Better to err on the side of too much boldness rather than too little.

The beta male orbiter was known to women long before our time. He was that “sissy” — an apt description — who couldn’t bustamove when it most counted. That 1920s beta male stumbled and fumbled and waited patiently for unmistakeable signals from the girl until she grew bored with him and alighted for a better man who knew how to travel the landscape of her hindbrain.

Related: Fat women were never attractive to men. The “perfect woman”, according to an 1890s leaflet, was slender and feminine, not a hint of fupa or manjaw on her. America the Beautiful, where have ye gone?

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Are white male Millennials the most craven American generation ever? Is the white male Millennial the new “nigger of the world“? Reader PA encounters evidence for the proposition.

Slice of life observation. A young (maybe 23 y.o.) white man is sitting in a public waiting area. He is tall, sportingly dressed, athletic, good looking. I’m standing nearby. A middle aged black man returns to that seat to pick up a small item he left there. Seeing him approach, the young white guy apparently thinks he wants that seat he’s sitting in. So he jumps up and in apologetic voice starts to say something but the black guy in a friendly manner tells him he’s just grabbing something he forgot. The young white guy stammer some some apology and says “thanks man” submissively and the older black guy goes away.

I thought about telling the young man something along the lines of “I understand its a reflex but there was no need to be this obsequious.” But then I decided not to. You know how when a pussy whipped boyfriend can cower before his girlfriend but will go defcon 5 on a third party male who discreetly suggests to him that he shouldn’t take that kind of crap from a woman? It’s likely that the young man in my anecdote may also get in my grill or tell me to fuck off, a compensation for his submissiveness to the black guy. [ed: yup. that’d be my bet.]

Millennials. I can’t relate to having been taught white guilt since birth.

The white male faggotry is nearing an epic meltdown.

In eras when cultures change much quicker than genes, the gene-culture co-evolution process is amplified. We are in one of those eras now, (and have been since, oh, 1960). What new breed of white American male is about to be set upon the world? Or, rather, set upon the world’s lubed strap-on?

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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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