Sarah Palin Inspires Feminist Hate

I predicted that Sarah Palin’s most fevered foes would be the modern single urban childless feminist:

But Sarah Palin’s worst enemy is not the mincing liberal betaboy, oh no. It’s the childless, career-tracked, urban slut machine, government-as-daddy-and-husband-substitute, spinsterette. Palin shits grizzly-sized dung all over that lifestyle with her outdoorsiness, large brood, and prole tastes. The thing about her they really can’t swallow are her FIVE kids. There’s no better way to remind a hip clubgoing single chick in the city who loves to travel and sip pinot noir of her impending infertility and genetic obsolescence than with the image of a woman who’s chosen not to ignore her biological imperative in favor of playing the field indefinitely.

Palin makes blue state SWPLs nervous because she is the chill up their spines that they are being outbred into insignificance.

Commenter Sebastian Flyte forwarded a NY Sun article to me confirming my prediction:

“All of my women friends [editor’s note: Samantha, Carrie, Miranda, and the fat friend Rosie O’Donnell], a week ago Monday, were on the verge of throwing themselves out windows,” an author and political activist, Nancy Kricorian of Manhattan, said yesterday. “People were flipping out. … Every woman I know was in high hysteria over this. Everyone was just beside themselves with terror that this woman could be our president — our potential next president.”

Ms. Kricorian allowed that she was among those driven to distraction, upon occasion, by Mrs. Palin’s nomination. “My Facebook status last Monday was, ‘Nancy is freaking out about Sarah Palin yet again,'” the writer said.

Facebook! Fuck her fiercely with a ferret. Here’s a Facebook status update for these freaked out feminists: “My life is a joke. A triviality. A nothing. A barren womb of emptiness. Politics is my religion substitute and gives me a belief to cling to when my life is a meaningless, mindless void of handbag shopping and mimosas.”

There. Much better.

“What I feel for her privately could be described as violent, nay, murderous, rage,” an associate editor at Jezebel, Jessica Grose, wrote just after the Republican convention wrapped up. “When Palin spoke on Wednesday night, my head almost exploded from the incandescent anger boiling in my skull.”

“I am shocked by the depths of my hatred for this woman,” another commenter, CJWeimar, wrote.

This is an endless font of humor. Recall what Devlin said about women who delay childbirth:

“Motherhood has always been the best remedy for female narcissism.”

When you have your own children to raise, the sight of a mother on stage at a political convention won’t fry your neural network with murderous impulses. This kind of acute self-absorption naturally places great emphasis on fighting those whose lifestyle choices mock your own.

“It is impossible for me not to read about her in the newspaper in the subway every morning on my way to work and not come into the office angry and wanting to kick things,” a commenter using the name ChampagneofBeers wrote. “My boxing class definitely helps.”

Oh christ, the stereotypical absurdity never ends. I can picture this broad in the latest trendy gymwear, huge oversized boxing gloves, grunting ridiculously while swinging like a tankgrrl at a punching bag and cursing red state women who rub her face in her failure with their large broods. I bet the next time she storms out of class fired up with righteous anger and belief in her jujitsu boxing skills, she makes the mistake of giving some homeless bum lip and winds up knocked out when he takes a swing at her.

Even some prominent figures admitted to being overcome by anti-Palin feelings. “I am having Sarah Palin nightmares,” an acclaimed playwright and writer, Eve Ensler, wrote on the Huffington Post.

Eve Ensler: divorced, ugly, 0 biological children.
She’ll need to call her next play “The Nobody Wants My Vagina Monologues”.

“I think a lot of women felt insulted by the idea you could just take any woman,” a longtime editor of women’s magazines, Bonnie Fuller, told The New York Sun. “A lot of women feel it was a very cynical decision. … What got some women’s backs up was the idea she didn’t earn her stripes. It’s been so hard for so many women to get ahead both in business and in the political worlds and she just seemingly slips in.”

Oh, Palin earned her stripes. The problem is that she didn’t earn the *right* stripes as dictated by the Loony Kommissars of the Crusty Cunt Revolution. Send her to the reeducation camps!

Ms. Fuller also said she and other women were troubled by Mrs. Palin’s decision to have her daughter, Bristol, 17, on stage at the Republican convention, despite news reports about her pregnancy.

Cute, young, pregnant teenagers drive these ugly shrikes right over the edge. How dare they not delay childbirth and devote a decade of their most fertile years to climbing the corporate ladder alongside the boys?

Ms. Grose posited that some of the anger was because Mrs. Palin, a former beauty pageant winner, resembled a high school homecoming queen. “She has always embodied that perfectly pleasing female archetype, playing by the boys’ game with her big guns and moose murdering, and that she keeps being rewarded for it,” Ms. Grose wrote.

Jealous much? High school never ends. Adults just dress up their status jockeying with social niceties.

“Their entire image of themselves is based on the fact that they are paving the way for women. What do they see? Women getting ahead, women being empowered who don’t agree with them,” Dr. Santy said.

Fear and ego are being disinterred for public scrutiny. The id monster emerges from the depths of its subconscious lair. And what do they fear most of all?

Judgment.

Palin’s attractivness, femininity, fertility, and “wrong” politics are the perfect storm to batter the psyches of the SWPL modern feminist. I have loved every minute of this national Rorschach test. It has paid truth to everything I’ve written about the blue state vaginacentric culture in which I swim and exploit for my own uses and pleasures. I hope it never ends.

To fathers everywhere I say: Continue sending your daughters to the big city in droves. I, and those like me, will be waiting.

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Priests Are Either Betas Or Closeted Gays

Following on the heels of the pedophilic priest scandals of a few years ago, it was obvious to me that most of those accused were closeted gays who used the cover of the celibate priesthood to hide from their gayness and to prey on underage altar boys on the cusp of manhood. Gay men are as drawn to youth and beauty as straight men are (men are visually oriented no matter what sex they are attracted to) and in all the noise at the time about the Catholic Church’s refusal to allow priests to marry what was lost was that most of the perpetrators targeted boys. In poker, that would be known as a major tell.

Well, now we have news that middle-aged men are turning to the priesthood in droves. And reading between the lines, it’s easy to see these guys are betas who lost in the race to find a woman for themselves:

The Rev. Michael Bies heard the same call, but before he did, he worked 20 years as a machinist in his native Chicago and even considered marriage. Ordained about four years ago, Bies, 52, is associate pastor of St. Mary’s Church in Pontiac.

Take a look at his photo in the accomanying link for verification of his beta status. Lesser betas who aren’t gay and who have gone their whole lives without succeeding at the only game that matters — getting a woman — probably find the priesthood a more attractive alternative than do normal men who enjoy the delights of pussy on the regular. If the choice is between delivering sermons to a captive audience or riding out the rest of your miserable days in lonely grinding celibacy until you die stuck to the couch with a bowl of cheetos in your lap and the flicker of porn on your computer monitor, I’d imagine the calling would be very strong indeed.

Naturally, most refuse to see the ugly truth and turn instead to more pleasing rationales for the increase in middle-aged priests:

Paul Sullins, a professor at the Catholic University of America, said the average age at ordination has risen by 10 to 15 years since the 1970s — part of a national trend toward increased education and later-life commitments.

“An increasing proportion of priests today are entering their second or third careers,” said Sullins, adding the trend may help relieve the shortage of priests in the U.S.

It’s no wonder the average age of ordination has risen 15 years since the 1970s — that’s when the sexual revolution took off. With later marriage and more years playing the field, men who got the short end of the genetic stick could delude themselves into an extra decade of hoping that a woman will come their way.

Monsignor Paul Showalter, vicar general of the Peoria Diocese, agreed. Showalter said, in general, the trend toward older priests is beneficial.

It all comes down to “when they get the calling,” he said.

“The Calling”: When you reach the age that your sex drive has plummeted and your chances with women have sufficiently dried up that enforced celibacy isn’t a sacrifice.

Knowing that “God is using you to bring solace and peace,” helps him cope, he said.

Translation: Knowing that the priesthood is a socially acceptable outlet for hopeless betatude helps him cope.

The celibacy requirement is actually a gift, said Bies, because it “frees you up to see all people as part of your family.”

Translation: The celibacy requirement lets him avoid reckoning the painful ugly reality of his loser loveless life. Part of his family will now include blossoming young teenage girls sitting in his pews taunting him every Sunday with their ripe bodies SO CLOSE yet SO UNAVAILABLE.

The divine irony of it all is that the social status — the “podium effect” — of delivering sermons to a large attentive audience will make these lesser beta priests more attractive to more women… and completely off-limits by the draconian celibacy rule. If he attempts to act on his higher status by banging one of his Sunday best groupies, he will have risked losing the source of power that gave him more leverage in the sexual market. What a conundrum!

I don’t think I would last in the priesthood longer than the time it took me to lure a God-fearing babe into my rectory — one week, tops.

I believe priests should be allowed to marry. That would at least solve the problem of the priesthood turning into a closeted gay ghetto. And it would encourage more well-adjusted straight guys to spread the word of god, because a man spreading his wife’s legs every night understands what it’s like to be filled with God’s love.

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Alpha Or Beta Part 2

Commenter and all-around girly girl finefantastic left a link to this video of hippies in the woods wailing and gnashing their teeth for the souls of dead trees. You really have to see this to believe it. Warning: May cause irreversible omegatude by transference.

My comments can add nothing to this spectacle.

Verdict:

Alpha = the trees.

Beta = no one. Betas are above them in the human hierarchy.

These are the kind of men who cry when they ejaculate. I did get a little aroused when the girl at the end of the video screamed like a banshee. I imagined it was the monstrous length and girth of my cock — which I call “Sequoia” — stretching her womanhood to the breaking point.

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Alpha Or Beta?

Commenter Ba1anced left a link to a video of an Indian game show. Check out all the betas stampeding to protect this woman’s “honor” after she rightfully gets slapped in return for slapping one of the contestants. And watch how she lingers around expecting massive beta mobilization on her behalf.

I’m with Sean Connery on this matter. A woman needs an occasional slap when she gets out of line to remind her of the real man she fell in love with. If a woman slapped me I would grind a half grapefruit into her face.

Verdict:

Alpha = contestant.

Beta = the entire production crew.

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Spot The Alpha

In this pic, try to identify who is more alpha:

i'm banging a hot russian gymnast half my age. and you?

90% of alphaness is telegraphed through body language, eye contact, facial expression, nonverbal vocalization, and voice tonality. The actual words you say mean very little. For instance, if you laugh at your own jokes you are probably beta. Here we see two wary foes — both of them silverback apex alphas — testing boundaries and trying to establish ultimate dominance. Putin has pulled the “hand over hand” handshake alpha maneuver with a subtle condescending pat to the top of Bush’s hand like a grandmother might give to a precocious child, while Bush has opted for the arm-across-back shoulder clasping “claw” maneuver (something a taller man is well-equipped to do).

This photo is really a great showcase of what happens when two genuine alpha males lock horns and battle for supremacy. The interplay is subtle, but it’s there, make no mistake. At the highest levels, alphas don’t ball up their hands into fists and throw punches, they sublimate the cruder forms of chest thumping into the refined art of civilized court intrigue.

Their faces also tell a story. Bush is stifling an open-mouthed smirk, but his eyes betray unease. He looks like he’s forcing his will upon Putin with his slight lean-in. Putin’s half-lidded eyes and barely downturned mouth hint of haughtiness. Deep in his Commie bones he feels like the superior man to Bush, and this past week in Georgia he demonstrated it when he shoved that air of superiority into Bush’s face by proxy. Also, I notice Putin is standing straight, avoiding the lean-in, and keeping his torso turned less toward Bush and more toward the audience. In contrast, Bush’s body angle defers to Putin.

Whether either of these men’s confidence is warranted is irrelevant. Their strutting for the cameras is what matters.

ALPHA: Putin, by a red whisker. Bush’s “claw” is the most dominant singular gesture in this photo, but the sum total of alpha gestures favors Putin.

(*Note: When Bush said he “looked into [Putin’s] eyes and saw his soul”, many commentators at the time obliquely hinted that this was a beta move, but in fact it was alpha. A strong man can afford to say seemingly silly things like that because it potentially buttresses a larger strategic goal; namely, that of giving your enemy false comfort. Unfortunately, in Bush’s case, alpha doesn’t always equate to smart.)

***

In the previous photo, we examined alpha posturing between two unfriendlies. Now let’s look at a photo of two men who are on friendly terms:

our women are hotter than your women.

You think dominance games cease between friends? Think again. Friendship is no immunity from alpha posturing.

The man on the left is a US representative who has just signed a draft missile shield deal with his Polish counterpart on the right. In their respective countries, I believe the Polish man would be higher up his government food chain than the US rep would be in ours, but because the US is a much more powerful country the playing field during this signing ceremony was effectively leveled. A lower ranking rep from a stronger country trumps a higher ranking rep from a weaker country, even on the weaker country’s turf, and especially when the stronger country is presenting an offer of protection.

To the analysis. Judging by the distance traversed, the Pole has extended his arm first to meet the American for a fully engaged handshake (this was a firm one based on the robust contact between their hands’ thumb and forefinger webbing). The Pole’s hand is in the American’s personal space, who keeps his elbow relaxed and close to his side. Usually, jumping the handshake gun and reaching into your recipient’s personal space signals an effort to establish dominance, and is the mark of the lesser alpha trying to gain street cred. But at the highest levels of social interaction the true alpha can afford to ease off and let the other male put in the work to meet his hand. That is what the American has done here. He knows he is the stronger presence — the “fulcrum” — and thus his alpha gravitational pull brings handshakes toward him.

Take heed: Depending on context and the betaness of your target, the handshake reach-in can be either a move for dominance or a signal of deference.

The Pole’s face is more expressive than the American’s. His smile is broader and his head leans forward slightly. Remember that the alpha male more often than not composes himself with indifference; his face is one of inscrutable impassivity, punctuated infrequently by minimalist gestures like raised eyebrows, chuckles, or cocky smirks. The “happier” of the two men is the one who is lower ranking. The Pole’s facial brightness reveals that he is more impressed with the proceedings. The American possesses the ennui of “been there done that”.

Finally, look at the positions of their opposite hands. It’s subtle, but the American holds his left hand down by his side, while the Pole keeps his in a “shielding” position in front of his crotch. Shielding body language, like arm-crossing and holding drinks chest-high, are self-protection maneuvers employed by betas. It’s the voice of the subconscious given sound through the physicality of the body.

Paradoxically, the body language of an alpha male in the company of lesser men is one of vulnerability. A true alpha has no fear of his environment and has complete control of events around him, and thus announces his elevated status by assuming nonverbal gestures and stances that could potentially make him more vulnerable to usurpers. This is why the seduction community focuses so strongly on what you do with your body before you even open your mouth. Pickup 101 is especially effective at teaching alpha body language skills. For example, when you stand, open your legs to shoulder width and prop your body weight onto one foot while pointing your other foot at a 60 degree angle outwards. This is a horrible position to stand in if someone decides to bum rush you, because you have handicapped your weight distribution, but it is the position to be in if you want other males and girls to know you are utterly unconcerned with incipient threats.

A man who can wave off worry with a look of relaxed aloofness and total situational command is very attractive to women, and confusing to would-be challengers. Defensive, bristly posturing is the mark of the greater beta attempting to punch above his weight. Always act as if you’re already seated on the throne, not as if you’re trying to dethrone someone who got there before you.

ALPHA: The American. (Note, too, how an alpha designation for a man hinges very little on his appearance. The Pole is taller and handsomer, but his body language tells the story.)

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Man Dance-Off

Three guys. One cramped dance floor space. A smooth moves battle royale to catch the attentions of the two girls with their backs turned to them. Who will take home the gold?

dancing with the sausage.

(Happy dude holding drink is Wayne Brady, providing humorous color commentary.)

Guy in the V-neck steps up first and does the robot. Not bad, but girls are unimpressed. Judges score: Backs still turned.

Guy in the fashionable “I Adidas DC” T-shirt immediately follows him and goes old school with a break dancing routine that causes people walking by to be extra careful stepping over him. Judges score: Girls briefly turn around to watch because they got bored with the guys talking to them.

Fan favorite “really tall guy in the sack-crushing capris” takes the floor and does… something really GHEY. And yet I cannot look away:

taste the rainbow.

Judges score: 10.0 for the joyous shirt, 9.0 for look of concentration, 0.0 for capturing female attention. As you can see, the girls remain unimpressed with the action, prefering to focus on their beta suitors. One girl did point and laugh.

Capri guy sat down with the judges later for a post-contest interview and it turned out he was actually kind of cool in a warped way. He admitted being bisexual (read: 100% gay).

At least he had an excuse. What were the other guys thinking? No man dances for personal enjoyment; he does it either to get close to girls already dancing or to show off his moves for girls watching. The man dance-off is like the perfect storm of gayness and toolness. As far as male status competitions go, it’s lower than drinking games.

On the streets of New York this kind of thing works because there are usually lots of girls watching to take social cues from each other that it’s acceptable to get caught up in the excitement of the status displays. It was closing time when these guys squared off and there were only a few girls nearby. Male mini-status displays don’t work as well when there aren’t lots of admiring girls to give the warriors social proof of their skills. Girls often look to other girls to gauge the alphaness of men doing questionable activities. If one girl looks over at the other girl in attendance and sees she is not paying attention to the frenetic dance-off, she will remain aloof.

You could have two dorky guys playing PINBALL and as long as there is at least one horny admiring girl in the crowd to inspire the other girls, the winning pinballer will get laid.

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Alpha Or Beta?

The older guy on the right with the wicked guitar:

alpha or beta shredder?

He’s a lifelong studio musician who also tours with this band. They normally play in smaller venues holding crowds of 100 to 200 indie music fans, like the one I went to shown in this photo. Their music — bluegrass rock — is tight, polished and professional. He plays a custom-made tri-necked guitar consisting of electric guitar, electric violin and mandolin. I’d guess he’s in his 50s, long stringy gray hair, slight paunch, and a hep cat vibe — definitely a guy you know could inject a conversation over cheap beer with wild stories from his past.

Income? Probably not much. Solidly middle class at best.
Style? No fashion maven, no stuffed suit, no conformist. And doesn’t give a shit anymore. Paisley bowling shirts, man.
Game? Unknown. But it’s a good bet he has more natural game than the average accountant.
Status? For two hours on stage, and particularly during his REM-esque mandolin solos, he’s got some.

I don’t know if he’s married or has a girlfriend. Let’s assume for the sake of discussion he’s playing the field (“dating around” as I tell every girl who wonders if I’m banging other girls on the off-days).

Is he an alpha or a beta?

***

I’ve seen the wives of very high status ALPHA men — CEOs, CFOs, EVPs — and I’m not impressed. Those guys could do MUCH better given their status if they put in a little effort toward courting young hotties, but instead they are shackled to aging frumpy flabby hausfraus. I can tell you if I were a CEO of a very large company, coupled with my hard-earned game skills, I’d have a different 19 year old sucking my cock every day of the week and twice on Sunday. There’s no way you’d catch me hitched to a has-been human wreckage.

If you put Older Musician Guy in the boardroom, he’d have no status stacked against the high-powered wealthy executives. Actually, anywhere off the stage, his status plummets. But I’d still classify him as more alpha than them. Why? Because he’s got groupies. Young groupies. Cute groupies. Most of them won’t sleep with him because of the age difference, but some will. He experiences what’s best in life: Love with a beautiful woman, not plotting a shrewd hostile takeover.

In the end, when he reminisces, his won’t be a litany of regret and missed opportunity. Can you say the same for the CEO?

Conclusion: Lesser alpha.

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