Five Minutes Of Alpha = Fifty Years Of Pining

Sometimes it’s amusing to hear the Word of CH tumbling from the lips of women with a shred of self-awareness, as they recount their conflicted feelings for the beta males and alpha males of their lives. Here,  an old woman phantom menstruates over the tiniest memory of a cad with whom she had a brief fling fifty years ago at her peak nubility age of eighteen. In her yearning recollection, you will recognize the wisdom of the Chateau.

Dark, brooding and with a hint of world-weary danger, he was a cross between a 19th-century decadent poet and a Hollywood heartthrob.

Chicks dig the dark triad, or a reasonable simulation thereof.

I was just a few weeks into my first term at Newcastle University, and determined to lose my virginity at the first opportunity. I resolved that he would be the one to do the deed.

Betas strugglewoo for years to get that pussy; alphas have it FedExed to their laps.

I discovered his name: John Nicholas Harley Pellowe — even that sounded impossibly romantic — and that he lived in Henderson Hall, the most glamorous Hall of Residence…

An important concept of game is the cultivation of mystery. A man of intrigue has hardly much self-promoting to do; the woman will promote him in her mind, filling in the missing details or embroidering the neutral facts in such a way that his allure is only strengthened.

I made it my life’s work to find out where he might be and to be there, too. Alone, I tramped round the seedy jazz clubs of Newcastle whenever I was tipped off about a possible sighting.

Betas spend thousands on elaborate proposals and weddings to capstone the last hours of their girlfriends’ normal weight lives; alphas get drunk, have fun, and break a small sweat trying to avoid stalkers who chase them down at clubs.

Eventually, my efforts were rewarded. I was sitting in the library one day when he walked in. I felt white-hot desire and, propelled by almost insane love and longing, walked over to him. From then on, we started a sort of relationship.

“sort of relationship”

We would meet at parties and other functions

Aka booty calls. How did men booty call before the invention of cell phones? Must have been the old-fashioned way: face-to-face. Much respect.

— at which, I have to admit, he paid me scant attention.

😆 You’d think that would have slowed her down. But no.

But I would interpret any little crumb of affection or interest as undying love on his part.

People value that which is scarce and priced accordingly. A man who gives his affection and interest away for free is advertising to women that he believes he is worth exactly that price. If he’s got at least a little going on, he’ll be used like the free samples at your local farm-fresh SWPLmarket. In contrast, a man who makes a woman work for his affection will be perceived as possessing very high market value, and she will swoon uncontrollably whenever he deigns to gift her with one of these minor victories over his studied aloofness.

I soon lost my virginity to him, in his room at Henderson Hall, and thought my happiness was complete.

What he was thinking: “Ok, how do I get out of here without her causing a scene?”

I was so besotted that I never even noticed another young man lurking along the corridor, named Bryan Ferry.

A beta makes his move!

The Christmas holidays came and I wondered how I could get through them without [Alpha John].

Patience, readers. The beta will require years and countless demonstrations of abject appeasement to complete his move.

When I came back, I thought we were an item.

Hamster gif [REDACTED]. Premature hamster death. Cause: Centrifugal dismemberment.

But he was still being a very reluctant swain, and although keen enough to have sex,

🙄 It’s as much the fate of women to misconstrue sex as evidence that a man wants a loving relationship as it is the fate of beta males to misconstrue emotional sharing as evidence that a woman wants sex.

he never once asked me out, or even seemed to want to be seen with me.

Maybe it’s because you weren’t pretty enough for him? Nah, couldn’t be!

I sort of knew it would never come right, yet, wilfully, I ignored all the warning signs.

But all warning signs are not the same. For example, women have no trouble heeding the warning signs that a man showing interest in them is a beta male. In those cases, nothing is ignored; the beta is jettisoned without a moment’s reflection. If anything, women over-correct for beta male warning signs (gotta protect those eggs from even catching a whiff of limply motile beta male sperm).

After one of our many nights of passion, more in love with him than ever, if that was possible,

Sunk cock theory. She had worked hard for his wang and invested her heart and soul only to be rewarded with his cruelly delicious indifference. Her investment is not going to pan out but she’ll see it through to the last shilling of her sanity. This is Chick Crack 101.

I saw him at the top of the steps of the Union Building and ran up to him.

I wonder if she recalls this level of detail about fleeting moments she had over the decades with her beta hubby?

Now, surely, he would return my love. But instead of flinging his arms around me, remembering the wonderful thrill of the night before, he turned away.

He never spoke to me again.

According to feminist orthodoxy, this proves he was actually a niceguy.

I went into shock, succumbing to a range of illnesses from glandular fever to migraines and strange fainting fits. I would frequently pass out in the street — but at least I hadn’t become pregnant, a girl’s worst fear in those days.

There’s a reason the maestros at CH declared the Pill to be one of the Six Sirens of the Sexual Apocalypse.

My love for John turned to hate. My demon lover had shown his demonic side, and I tried to move on, as we’d say now.

Indifference, not hate, is the opposite of love.

John ignored me totally, never even acknowledging my presence. Not only did he not love me, he didn’t even like me very much.

Fifty years on, you can still hear the hurt in her words. Remember this, when further along in her confessional she engages the usual last-second empowered woman protestation to the contrary.

To add to the agony, he soon had another girlfriend, a proper one this time, and he even seemed keen on her, paying her the sort of attention he’d never bestowed upon me.

If her beta ex-husband, Neville, were reading her diary of tears dedicated to a long-ago flame, do you think he’d feel strong pride that GSS data trawlers have anointed him an alpha male because he had two (paternity assumed) kids with her?

But I could never forget John Pellowe and the memory of my unrequited love for him put a pall on the marriage, with Neville always feeling he was somehow second best. He used to refer to ‘that chap in your past’ — neither of us could even bring ourselves to mention his name, though we both remembered it only too well.

Answer: 😆

[Neville and I] went out, off and on, for nearly three years before marrying at the age of 21, while we were still students.

It took the beta three years to legally lock down what it took the alpha exactly one nanosecond to sexually lock up.

Which locking system do you think is the more impenetrable? And how many other dudes was she boffing while dating Neville?

In the late Eighties after 20 years of marriage, when our children were 17 and 18, Neville and I divorced.

Ross “Power Brow” Douthat talks a lot about social forces gutting marriage, but is even he, courageous saboteur of the Cathedral, brave enough to grapple with the CH maxim that five minutes of alpha male sexual attention can ruin a woman for the beta males who would be her realistic marital options? Just how many divorces are caused, ultimately, by vivid cock carousel memories?

This time, I sought the help of a trauma psychotherapist to try to get [Alpha John] finally out of my system. He told me that my story was surprisingly common. [ed: :shock:] He asked if I could see John again to help me heal, so that I could finally reach some kind of closure. Apparently this is often very helpful in puncturing the fantasy.

The only fantasy here is the idea that “closure” is anything but brand repackaging for bruised, lovelorn egos.

She goes on a bit describing how she went out of her way to track down her ex-flame and meet with him to experience the aforementioned closure. Despite her dutiful description of his aged appearance (holy crap, people get old-looking!), it’s clear she still tingles for his totem:

Even so, the love and desire, the old passion, rose up in me as we sat and talked over a cup of tea in the café. ‘Is it really you?’ I said in wonder, conjuring up the image of him in his glorious youth.

Men are optic; women are holistic.

I asked him why he’d so cruelly turned away from me and he blamed his ‘ineptness’.

What’d she expect him to say? That she was barely attractive enough for a few rolls in the hay?

As I walked back to the Underground, it was as if with every step I took, a heavy coat was lifted from me. It was the most extraordinary feeling of lightness, and I realised the therapy had worked. I was free of him.

Cue the “last-second empowered woman protestation to the contrary.”

I wrote a book about my adoration of him,

She sounds completely free of him.

I’d forgotten all about the book until recently when an e-book publisher saw it on my website and contacted me about updating it and re-publishing it.

I said yes. In the book, I tried to get to the bottom of this agonising  phenomenon that has claimed so many tragic victims…

Heavy coat status: Lifted.

Every now and again, these cruel, uncaring lovers give you a scant bit of attention, and each slight glance pulls you in ever more powerfully.

Uncaring asshole game. Or, if you prefer a more sophisticated nomenclature, “learned charisma.”

When in the grip of such a passion, it’s as if you are taken over by a mind-altering drug and are no longer responsible for your actions.

The tingle trumps the cortex.

It doesn’t really matter whether the object of your affections is married, unavailable, uninterested; nothing will stop the mad passion from taking root and growing, even with little or nothing to feed on.

It’s the lack of nourishment that in fact helps the female passion grow. Kind of like a hydroponic plant.

But what was it about [Alpha John] that made so many otherwise rational, intelligent women fall helplessly at his feet? I think now that he exuded an aura, a kind of force field, that susceptible or vulnerable women picked up.

“Susceptible or vulnerable women” = most women.

One fellow lecturer told me that John didn’t even have to try; that women just flocked to him.

He had the ability, when he was with you, to make you feel as if you were the only woman in the world, even if he ignored you next day.

Aloofness works in conjunction with seductive intensity. Total pick-up aloofness is only possible if you possess extreme fame, or you’re dead.

Even his head of department at Newcastle University, Barbara Strang, one of the few female professors at the time, fell for him. She would have been in her 40s to his 25 or so. So it wasn’t just me, being a daft, lovesick maiden.

It’s funny how women are shocked to discover their alpha lovers only have eyes for them and two dozen other women.

After the shock of John Pellowe’s treatment of me, it never felt safe to fall in love with anybody again — at least not in that cataclysmic way.

Concern for “safeness” is not why she couldn’t fall in love with anybody again. “Comparative dreariness” is why.

It wasn’t Neville’s fault that I came to him as damaged goods, as it were, and he made up for it by being very much in love with me.

Neville, like most beta males, thought if he could just swaddle her in sufficient plumes of love, she’d return the favor. But he had no understanding; you can’t love-trip a woman into reciprocal love.

I must say I always felt much more at ease with Neville than I ever had with John, but I had lost the ability to love in that passionate, all-consuming way.

“At ease.” That’s a telling admission. Yes, women feel at ease with beta males. And maybe that’s the problem.

CH Maxim #44: Women can’t feel impassioned without also feeling a little unease.

However, Neville and I got on famously from the start. Indeed, we are still good friends today — and often meet for a good natter. Neville became a monk several years ago but, to me, he’s still the same man I married.

Picture now fully clear.

Act 1: Exhilarating but excruciatingly short-lived sexual fling with aloof alpha proto-emo.
Act 2: Heart broken in part by adherence to unrealistic expectations formed in the crucible of womb-wracking orgasms with said alpha male.
Act 3: Temporary soothing ego relief obtained on the tear-stained shoulder of a quasi-homosexual beta male with advanced sympathizing and listening abilities.
Act 4: Half-hearted marriage to said beta, made palatable by subconscious realization of fading looks and enticement of low risk domestic settling serenity strategy compared to high risk staying single and seeking reenactment of passionate love plus long-shot alpha male commitment strategy.
Act 5: Spend several decades secretly reminiscing about the five minutes spent with a brooding alpha ex-lover while beta hubby putters around the house, none the wiser.
Act 6: Divorce. Ex-husband becomes a monk after realizing his marriage was a sham and real passionate love will never be his.
Act 7: Write a book about the alpha male ex, claiming to be over him and empowering other women to do the same.

He did not shake the world in general, but he certainly shook mine — and sad to say, he still does, 15 years after his death.

Act 8: Diddle the dusty bean to harder orgasms over the distant memory of a dead alpha male ex-fling than those ever experienced in thirty years with a beta male husband.

After reading a story like this, delivered from a woman’s point of view, you’ve really got to smirk at those guys who diligently peruse social survey data and subsequently conclude that number of children is the sine qua non of alpha maleness. Using that metric, the beta hubby in this woman’s life was the alpha male. But does it seem to you she thought the same about him, the living ex-husband who got half as many mentions as the dead 50-years-past fleeting lover in her article? Or does it strike you as more accurate to conclude that the man she had no kids with, but with whose ancient memory she nevertheless nurtured the progeny of a million wistful regrets and the self-release of a million limbic caresses, was the real alpha male in her life?

The above question should suffice as rhetorical, but, comically, there are those who need the lesson scrawled in neon marker on their eyeballs.

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Female Beauty From 5 To 7

Reader Hair Slicked Back With Swag So Fresh (great handle) wrote to ask if CH could revive the posts that asked readers to rank female beauty in photos. The goal in those posts — achievement realized — was to demonstrate how men pretty much share the same taste in women.

You may think it obvious that men share the same gut reaction of what constitutes female beauty and female ugliness, and therefore not a subject worth bludgeoning to death, but the world is full of — and filling up more by the day with — defectives, misfits and losers who tirelessly propagandize pretty lies like “beauty is in the eye of the beholder” and “there’s a good man for every woman” and “sexual attraction is a matter of personal taste” and “grow old along with me the best is yet to be” and “BBWs have no trouble attracting men”. A few soul-shivving CH posts puncturing the bubble of platitudes that ensconces the degenerate freak mafia is but a ripple in the tidal wave of RAWMUSCLEDELUSION that is the hallmark of current Western intellectual discourse.

Swag writes,

Hello CH, I’d like to commission a blog entry regarding these photos [ed: see pics below].

First of all, what do you see in these pictures?

Next, which of the two is hotter?

Finally, why did you pick one over the other?

Swag is getting at an interesting point about female beauty and men’s universal sexual preferences in his choice of these two particular women as ranking subjects. Although the rankings of homely women (4s and lower) and very attractive women (8s and higher) are largely agreed upon by the vast fantastic majority of men from all cultural and racial backgrounds, this near universal shared clear male preference gets more muddied in the fat part of the female beauty bell curve. Right there in the populous (YOUNG, SLENDER*) middle — where female 5s, 6s and 7s dominate the sea of snatch — the marginal differences in objective physical beauty that distinguish one girl from another in such a large population tend to exaggerate underlying idiosyncratic male tastes.

While general universal female attractiveness rules still mean that a randomly chosen typical 6 will not have as many, or as high quality, sexual marketplace options as a randomly chosen typical 7, there can be individual exceptions to this rule resulting from men’s particular preferences along minor, mostly cosmetic, beauty metrics. For example, a blonde 6 might get a man that both she and a brunette 7 want, simply because the man has a particularly strong preference for blondes. But that blonde 6 will likely lose out to a brunette 8 because the difference in facial beauty and how that appeals to universal primal male desire is great enough to overcome the individual man’s relatively weaker idiosyncratic preference for blondes.

*A few important points need to be made here.

First, obesity is skewing the female sexual market. Most American women are now chubby or worse. So the middle part of the female beauty curve in 2013 is now shifted to the left of where that same curve would have been in, say, 1960. The fat (heh) part of the female beauty curve is now shifted to where the dregs of womanhood — the 1s, 2s and 3s — Jabbanate. It’s no longer a bell curve but a pear curve. The 4s, 5s, 6s and 7s are still representative of the average of female beauty, but their total share in the female population has been sadly, tragically, whittled down to endangered species status.

Second, whenever we talk of female beauty rankings we are implicitly talking about women under the age of 30. Yeah, yeah there are some attractive 40-year-olds out there… for their age. Save it. Those attractive 40-year-olds were even hotter when they were 20-years-old. The wall spares no one, not even Monica Belucci. At best, the wall only hits some women harder and earlier than other women. This is a universal law about as predictable and unavoidable as the law of gravity. Sure, there are a few rare exceptions of women who miraculously got better looking into their late 20s or early 30s, but these biological rarities only serve to throw into stark relief the dictatorial governance of the primary SMP rule.**

**Many of these female late-bloomer exceptions are of former fatties who lost a ton of weight. A slender 35-year-old will be better looking to most men than a fatty 20-year-old version of herself.

Finally, we must note that there is one other group of rarified women whose ethereal beauty provokes a “narcissism of small differences” reaction in men: the hard 10s. 5s, 6s and 7s may cause some minor disagreement among men by dint of their numerical advantage in the female population, but hard 10s provoke the most heated disagreement. One man’s 10 is another man’s 9.5, and GODDAMNIT he is going to let you know that 0.5 points makes all the difference in the world. Male personal whim tends to get exaggerated to outsized importance when contemplating the beauty of truly exquisite creatures.

Anyway, onto the beauty ranking. Two girls are featured, in two different photos. They represent the slightly right-of-middle part of the female beauty curve. The objective here is not an absolute ranking of the two girls, but a relative one.

You, the readers, will decide which of these two girls, both of whom are fairly close together in looks and both of whom are representative of the majority of young, thin women, is the better looking of the two. Will the voting show significant disagreement? Or are men better at distinguishing, say, 6s from 7s than we give them credit for?

Here’s a close-up shot:

After you have voted in the above poll, write in the comments what distinguishing features of either girl swayed your judgment. What details about these two girls pushed you to vote one or the other as more attractive? Be as specific as possible. (Note to women voters: “specific” does not mean “she has a sexy chi”.)

Give that some thought, and then vote in this poll:

Results and analysis will be posted later.

UPDATE

Early return poll results are in and the winner, by an overwhelming margin of victory, is…

The girl on the left! And that’s a good thing for a lot of you guys because the girl on the right…

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IS A MAN, BABY!

😆

Reader Swag follows up:

Not everything is what it seems.  You’ve been duped!  The pictures do not contain two women, but rather, a man and a woman!  The woman is the one in the white top and the man is the one in the black top.  The man underwent hormone replacement therapy to turn into a tranny, and has been living as a woman for the past 8 months.  The tranny’s actually wearing a wig until his real hair grows out long enough to look like a woman’s hair.  They’re siblings, and the black top brother is only a few years older than the white top sister.  Nice contrast, I know.

Let’s see what some readers had to say.

“the one on the right’s eyes seem to show an IOI but the one on the left is more deadpan.”

😆 😆

“And rightie is a 6 based on having a tight body in a world where 98 out of 100 women are fat or obese.”

😆 😆 😆 😆 😆 Tranny hotter than fat chicks. What more needs to be said about fat chick prospects?

“People saying the one on the right is a 5? Really? Nobody’s standards are that delusionally high. 99% of the dudes here would gladly fuck either of them and be thankful for it.”

I don’t know that feel, bro.

“Girl in the white top is a quick fuck I’d maybe LTR the girl in black but cheat on her a lot.”

😆 😆 😆 😆 😆 😆 ….

….oh god…

…*phew*…

…wait a sec…. ok…

😆 😆 😆 😆

“The one on the right’s nose and general facial structure makes me think she’s a former man, to be honest. At first she looks quite good but if you look for a few seconds it just doesn’t feel quite right.”

Commenter Loc wins the thread and spares his masculine essence horrible indignity.

This being CH, an April Fool’s joke is not just a joke. There’s an underlying message. And that message is this:

Universal male attraction standards are vindicated again.

You may wonder how this is so, considering that men were arguing over the “beauty” of a tranny, and a few benighted souls even voted in favor of the tranny. Well, note how overwhelming is the victory for the real girl. Then notice how many men in the comments said that “something just wasn’t right” about the girl on the right. This person is probably the best looking, or rather the most realistic looking, tranny you will ever see, and STILL he couldn’t quite pull it off. Most men can pick up on the subtlest facial cues that differentiate plain from pretty women and, yes, uncannily fake women from real women.

Look, too, at the poll results for the features that readers said most informed their ranking judgments. Body, jawline, chin, eyes and noses were the big (heh) overriding facial characteristics that pinged men’s (and women’s) mate (or competitor) attractiveness triggers. As Swag writes,

What you should have noticed about the girl wearing the gray/white top:

– All-natural 32Ds (Titty-fuck, anyone? :P)
– Smaller facial features (softer jawline, pointed chin, modest cheekbones, etc.)
– Large and warm eyes that sparkle in the light
– Fuller and wetter bottom lip
– Congruent hairline parted close to the middle
– Tasteful fake nails on long, slender female fingers
– Sexy, hourglass figure within the ideal BMI range
– Feminine display of ownership by cradling the waist of the girl in the black top

What you should have noticed from girl wearing the black top:

– Flat, pancake tits undeserving of a cup size mention
– Wider, more angular facial features (manjaw, uppercut-ready chin, prominent cheekbones, etc.)
– Smaller, darker eyes devoid of that bright spark
– Flat and chapped bottom lip
– Incongruent hairline which doesn’t sit right
– Unpolished nails on short, stubby man hands
– Straight, column-like hips with the sex appeal of a balance beam
– Masculine display of ownership by draping the arm around the shoulders of girl in gray/white top

Female beauty is not subjective, except in the metaphysical sense that an individual’s neurons have to operate to perceive the beauty. A transsexual can only be perceived as womanly if he alters his body and face to such a radical degree that he begins to conform with innate biologically grounded standards already in place in the brains of men. The very fact that transsexual men have to conceal or otherwise surgically reconstruct their male features to more resemble female features in order to “pass” with straight men is hard real world evidence that female beauty is objective and male sexual attraction preferences are universal. And even then… the ruse is exceedingly difficult to pull off.

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The Revealed Preferences Of Drunk Girls

Sometimes the most obvious facts of female nature and human social dynamics elude open discussion for an unusually long time. A reader writes to make a point that qualifies as one of those obvious facts:

Number one sign you’ll have a problem with a girl.

I crossed the rubicon a few years back when I felt I could expect some measure of success with eligible women. It felt great, but I always looked back and tried to identify mistakes so I could do better the next time. That said, even when the same thing happens over and over again, you might not see a trend until your sample size gets so big that the obvious hits you in the head with a brick.

I have a great piece of advice for any man, regarding his casual fling, girlfriend, or wife…she must like you as much, if not more, when she’s drunk than she does when she’s sober.

Some of that is obvious (taking her to a bar and then she goes home with another guy) but others are subtle (such as not getting texts or calls answered between 10pm and 1am on the weekend). Drinking loosens inhibitions and our drunk behavior is more consistent with our true feelings than our sober behavior.

As a matter of fact, you might want to meet all of your girls when they’re drunk, since a drunk girl liking you (which is emotional and more likely to be alpha) is a stronger signal than a sober girl liking you (which is logical and more likely to be beta).

When you get your girl drunk, you’re not doing it because it will make sex easier, you’re doing it because it might make sex harder. It’s a shit test. And if getting her drunk makes sex harder, you’re fucked.

Alcohol is truth serum, and a drunk girl will reveal her true desires faster and more boldly than a sober girl who has mental checkpoints, border guards and lockdown procedures in place to dupe provider beta males about the nature of women’s sexuality that is unleashed in limbic lands just beyond his ken.

In my experience, the reader is correct; drunkenness permits the woman’s id full expression. It skips joyously, drinking deep the fresh air, swinging its unchained fists wildly, exuberant and unstoppable. It would be a mistake to think her drunken id is less discriminating than her sober id. It isn’t. The drunken female id is more discriminating — but less deceptive and obfuscating — than her sober id. When she is sober, her forebrain exerts some sensible control over her animal lusts.

And this applies to relationship dynamics as much as pick-up scenarios at bars. Anyone who’s been in a normal (i.e., non-Mormon) relationship with a woman for more than a couple months has seen her drunk or at least tipsy. When she’s in this liquor-lubed confessional state, you can catch a glimpse of her raw sexuality, stripped of game-playing, calculating coyness and psychological feints with her long-term advantage in mind. What do you see? Does she jump into your arms, mashing her appletini-breath into your face, groping feverishly at your crotch and begging for exquisite deliverance on your godhead?

Or does she act cold and distant through the fog of her inebriation, snipe at you for imaginary infractions, and loudly reminisce about a long-forgotten (you thought) ex-boyfriend? Worse, does she late night text mystery “friends” as she’s pushing your inquisitive hornypaws away from her thigh?

Drunkenness is an emotion-based honesty signal that bypasses logic circuits. Drunkenness reveals women’s desire for alpha males. Sobriety reveals women’s ability to conceal their desire for alpha males. If your drunk girlfriend seems more eager for sex, chances are good your relationship is healthy. She loves you in the way that can’t be faked. If your drunk girlfriend is an insufferable ice queen, chances are good your relationship is heading for the rocks. She subconsciously despises you in the way a bored housewife despises her unsexy husband one week every month.

Why is is better to be viscerally loved than affectionately duped? Because the man who is viscerally desired always has the option to inspire tender long-term focused affection from his lover. The provider beta who is affectionately duped has no option, other than game, to inspire visceral desire in his lover. It’s much easier to guide a woman from alpha male-inspired lust to beta-male inspired serenity than it is to guide her from the opposite direction.

Contra feminist assertions that drunk women are more easily taken advantage of, it’s actually the case that drunk women are easier targets for alpha males, but harder targets for beta males, who, lettuce be cereal, comprise 60% of the male population who aren’t alpha or omega males. As per usual, feminists and their manboob human chastity belts lump in alpha males with beta and omega males and incorrectly assume that the poosy paradise that alpha males enjoy is enjoyed by all men.

So if you can take a drunk girl home and bang her, hold your head proudly high, because you have just been certified a Sexy Alpha Male™ in the only way that matters.

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Scientific Evidence That Men Will Choose Women Over Money

In Scarface, Tony Montana famously advised, “In this country, you gotta make the money first. Then when you get the money, you get the power. Then when you get the power, you get the women.”

Tony wasn’t wrong. (Piles of) money and power will buy a lot of pussy. But ♥♥science♥♥ disagrees about where men’s priorities actually lie, and what is the most efficient path, as implied by neuronal feedback, for men to pursue to increase their reproductive fitness.

An unusual but very illuminating study concluded that, given a choice between viewing a hot babe and making some dough, men will choose the babe almost every time.

An ERP study on decisions between attractive females and money.

To investigate the neural processes of decision-makings between attractive females and money, we recorded 18 male participants’ brain event-related potentials (ERPs) when they performed a novel task of deciding between viewing an attractive female’s fuzzy picture in clear and gaining a certain amount of money. Two types of attractive females were included: sexy females and beautiful females. Several new electrophysiological discoveries were obtained as following. First, the beautiful females vs. money task (task B) elicited a larger positive ERP deflection (P2) than the sexy females vs. money task (task S) between 290 and 340 ms, and this probably related to the perception matching process between a visual input and an internal representation or expectation. Second, task S evoked greater negative ERP waves (N2) than task B during the time window of 340-390 ms, and this might relate to response conflict and cognitive monitoring for impulsive tendency. Third, the ERP positivity in task S was larger than task B in the time interval of 550-1000 ms, reflecting that sexy female images may have higher decision value for males than beautiful female images. Fourth, compared with choosing to gain money, choosing to view an attractive female evoked a larger late positive component (LPC) during the same time window, possibly because attractive females are more direct and evolutionarily earlier rewards for males than money amounts.

See the accompanying graphs at the link posted to get a better handle on the study results. There’s a lot of dense scientific jargon to wade through here, but the gist of it is this:

Based on neural imaging results (“brain event related potentials”, or ERPs), men will choose to view a sexy woman (read: a slut signaling her availability for sex) over making a bit of coin. Men will choose to view a beautiful woman (read: a modestly posed looker you would take home to mom) about the same amount as they will choose to make coin when viewing the slutty sexy woman, but they will choose to view the beautiful woman more often than they will choose to make money while deciding directly between those two choices.

In even lazier shorthand, men are hard-wired by evolution to choose a shot at the ultimate reward of sex with hot, sexually available women over choosing a shot at sex through a proxy fitness signaler like making money. Or: yes, it really is all about the nookie.

Call it the theory of path of least resistance to sex (a concept elucidated here at CH many times, and THANK YOU science, for once again validating core Chateau Heartiste concepts about the workings of the sexual market). Those MGTOWs and tradcons who argue that the best feeling of reward men get is from making money and being one’s own man, are simply wrong. The best feeling men get is from sex, or even a promise of sex, with attractive, young women. The Christmas tree lights of neural imaging results don’t lie.

Not to say that making money or earning power doesn’t feel great on its own. Certainly each of those do. But if the choice is between the great feeling from a DIRECT evolutionary reward and the feeling from an INDIRECT evolutionary reward… well, it shouldn’t take a scientific study to figure the bleeding obvious. Men will go for the sex directly and skip the hard slog to make themselves more attractive as sex partners if they have the option to do so. There’s a lesson there for women who ride the cock carousel with aloof, low investment cads.

One interesting part of the study was the result that men will be somewhat more likely to concern themselves about making money if an attractive but chaste woman is within view. This suggests that men, justifiably, perceive less slutty women as better investment vehicles. It also implies that beautiful women who don’t need or want to use their sexuality to curry favor with men will be more aggressive about screening for men who can provide for them, or who signal potential that they can provide for them.

Do women have their own sexual market theory of path of least resistance? Yes. Except it’s not a path of least resistance to sex; it’s a path of least resistance to commitment. Women will go for a man’s emotional commitment EVERY TIME if said man makes it easy for them. “Easy” means, in this context, sexually undemanding. Anhedonic. Effectively neutered. LJBFed. BETA. A woman gives up nothing to get a beta orbiter’s loyalty, support and, in some tragic cases, hard-earned provisions. There’s a lesson there for supplicating betas. Make the ho say no? How about “make the slut pay up front”.

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Was Satoshi Kanazawa Right?

Satoshi Kanazawa, an evolutionary scientist and former columnist at Psychology Today who wrote an article (since pulled, and which got him fired from the magazine) about the attractiveness of the different races of women, (concluding that black women were the least attractive), might, in the end, have had his analysis vindicated.

Peter Frost, over at his blog, Evo and Proud, has a good post delving into a study by Michael Lewis et al which examined the attractiveness of the big three races. He starts with a primer about the evidence that beauty is not in the eye of the beholder, it is objectively measurable and only “subjective” inasmuch as the perception of objective beauty resides in the individual brain.

Notions of human beauty seem to develop along similar lines in all humans. Children as young as 2-3 months old look longer at female faces that adults have rated as attractive, be they white infants looking at faces of black women rated by black men or black infants looking at faces of white women rated by white men (Langlois et al., 2000; Langlois et al., 1991; Langlois et al., 1987; Langlois and Stephen, 1977). Similar findings have been obtained with adults of various racial/ethnic origins (Bernstein et al., 1982; Cunningham et al., 1995; Maret, 1983; Miller, 1969; Perrett et al., 1994).

In the most comprehensive of these studies, Cunningham et al. (1995) assessed criteria of female beauty among men of different ethnic backgrounds: Taiwanese, White Americans, Black Americans, and recently arrived Asian and Hispanic students. All of them perceived a female face to be more attractive when possessing high eyebrows, widely spaced large eyes with dilated pupils, high cheekbones, small nose, narrow face with thin cheeks, large smile, full lower lip, small chin, and fuller hairstyle.

To be sure, the East Asian men tended to prefer more immature and inexpressive faces whereas the Black American men tended to prefer women with larger buttocks and a heavier body build. These differences in preference, however, are much smaller than the differences in physique that actually exist among human populations.

Just as I have been saying: there are universal beauty standards molded by smaller regional racial preferences.

So what happens when physically different populations come into contact with each other? Are some judged to be better looking than others? And is there consensus on this judgment?

The anticipation is killing you! I hope it lasts.

Finally, Lewis addresses the possibility that this gender asymmetry may reflect an underlying asymmetry in sexual attractiveness: “If there are differences between the relative attractiveness of the genders between different races then asymmetries in interracial marriage will follow.” To this end, he asked male and female volunteers to rate the attractiveness of human faces that differed by ethnicity and gender. Of the male raters, 15 were White, 2 were Black, and 3 were Asian. Of the female raters, 14 were White, 3 were Black, and 3 were Asian.

The results are shown at the top of this post. Female raters gave the highest ratings to Black men, followed by White men and East Asian men. Male raters gave the highest ratings to East Asian women, followed by White women and Black women. There was no significant interaction between the race of the rater and the race of the face being rated.

This research, at least, supports Kanazawa’s theory that black women are the least attractive of the major races of women. Read the comments to Frost’s post as well. They are very good and blessedly free of feminist or equalist cant, even the ones which question the validity of the study or the conclusions one can draw from the data. Interestingly, in the chart appended to the top of Frost’s post, the standard deviation — or “spread” — of beauty is highest among white people (and lowest among blacks, except for Asian males). So, although the white beauty average is higher, there are more very ugly people and very beautiful people within the white race. The spread between ugly and hot, in other words, is greatest among whites. This observation falls in line with what appears to be a general trend for whites to have very large spreads in quality along multiple measurable human traits.

White people are, essentially, nature’s favored evolutionary guinea pigs. They are experimented on to a greater degree than other races, and as a result there are a lot more experimental failures, and a lot more experimental successes, within the white race.

My personal opinion on this matter of interracial attractiveness — besides the belief that nothing pricks the collective id like a rip-roaring, no-egos-spared discussion about the hotness of this or that group’s women — is that, like the women of most races, there are a fair number of hot black chicks I have seen whom I would most assuredly and happily defile with sweet lovemaking. And there are a lot of gross white women I wouldn’t touch with Tim Wise’s precious anti-racist dick. Honey Boo Boo’s mom comes to mind as a perfect example of the genre.

But we are talking about averages. If you don’t know what an average is, you should leave the internet and return when you are more enlightened than a garden slug. And, on average, I have noticed that some races just have proportionately more bangable women than do other races.

That’s all. If you can’t comment below without propping your ego with a strawman, or a hayfield of strawmen, you will be banned. Life is too short to tolerate obtuseness and trollery.

Anyhow, Frost talks about his own research into facial attractiveness, and explains where his conclusions or theories differ from Lewis’ study above.

Nonetheless, there are significant differences between my findings and Michael Lewis’. The cross-cultural study showed a general preference for lighter-skinned women, but only at the lighter end of the local range of skin color. We see this in folk terminology. Traditionally, a beautiful woman was ‘white’ in Europe and East Asia, ‘golden’ in Southeast Asia, and ‘red’ in sub-Saharan Africa.

As for my menstrual cycle study, the darker male face was indeed more strongly preferred by women in the first two-thirds of the menstrual cycle, i.e., when estrogen levels are high and not offset by progesterone. Yet, even in that group, there was still more preference for the lighter male face. In other words, estrogen seems to weaken a woman’s resistance to darker male skin, without reversing the direction of preference, at least not fully. […]

Finally, the ideological environment has changed over the past twenty years. In Lewis’ study, the White raters showed no tendency to prefer their own kind—an unusual finding in itself. Many of them may have thought long and hard before choosing a White face over a non-White one. Of course, this possible anti-White bias would not explain the gender asymmetry. It would simply shift all preferences towards the darker end of the color spectrum.

And that leads to another point. Perhaps some of the raters were unconsciously using East Asian preference as a proxy for White preference. In our current ideological environment, it is legitimate to admire East Asians for a wide range of good qualities: politeness, work ethic, self-discipline, attractive facial features, and so on. Such admiration incurs no social cost. So if you feel ashamed of your preference for White people, why not repackage it as East Asian preference?

Frost posits an evolutionary mechanism by which black men and white women would become more physically attractive over generations.

In some populations, men competed against each other for access to women. This was especially so in tropical ‘horticulturalist’ societies where year-round farming enabled women to provide for themselves and their children with little male assistance. For men, the cost of taking a second wife was close to zero and may even have been negative. Such societies thus had a high polygyny rate and correspondingly intense male-male rivalry for mates. The pressure of sexual selection was therefore on men.

In other populations, women competed against each other for access to men. This was especially so in continental Arctic societies where men provided almost all the food and where long-distance hunting caused more deaths among young men than among young women. Such societies thus had a low polygyny rate and a surplus of women on the mate market. The pressure of sexual selection was therefore on women (Frost, 1994a, 2006, 2008).

I’ve come across this theory before in different outlets, so it’s not like Kanazawa is some kind of freakish radical for suggesting it in the pages of Psychology Today.

A reader mildly objects:

My one caveat is that black women may not photograph as well as women of other races.  Having recently spent some time in the Caribbean around (non-fat) black women and I can say that there plenty _plenty_ of good looking black girls, at least where I was.  But I’ve never found black women all that attractive in photographs.  And the obesity epidemic in the US has hit them hard too.

A caveat worth considering. I’ll assume the Lewis study used photographs of slim black women, or at least photos of black women who were comparably thin to the other women, because otherwise that would qualify as a major flaw and oversight by the researchers.

As for the idea that black women photograph worse than women of other races, I’m not sure I buy it. Bodybuilders have known for a long time that tanned skin, sometimes tanned to the point of orange-y absurdity, looks better in glossy mags. Darker skin captures plays of light in more pleasing ways. Perhaps the reader is referring to the facial bone structure of black women, what with their pronounced jawlines and unappealing prognathism, and how that may contribute to their looking worse in photos. That’s possible, but I can’t figure out a way that theory would work such that the faces which look bad in 2D look better in 3D. Maybe some photoshop experts in the audience could lend their opinions.

Also, is it possible that sexual selection in some outlier black majority communities, like the Caribbean, runs the other way, producing hotter women and blander men? A sex skew in the favor of men could certainly produce more beautiful women over time. So could a greater demand by women for men who can provide for them. You might see this happening in black societies with white minorities, where the continual reminder of the minority’s higher status compels black women to seek out more paternal and productive and less showboat-y caddish black men. Or you might see it in societies where the women are not able to provide for themselves as easily as they can in lands with more fertile soils and better climate or where there’s a generous welfare system in place that substitutes for male provision. Pure speculation, but isn’t that the seed corn of scientific truth?

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How To Keep A Stripper Enamored Of You

A reader asks,

Hey there, thanks for your wisdom, was a self deluded beta, and since I took the red pill been trying and getting to fake an alphatude. Just gamed 2 strippers, slept with both, one got jelous, but now I am sleeping with a very hot stripper, I think Im doing ok, but how do I treat her to keep me on her head and ruin her for other guys? Im still dating other women, but I want to keep this one, she is a very high 8 maybe a 9.

so in other words how can I keep laying this girl for a long time?

Treat her like absolute garbage. Serious, yo. I’ve yet to meet or hear of a stripper who did not keep coming back to a certified asshole for more of his special lessons in love. Personally, I have treated strippers I was fucking with more disdain and cruelty than any other woman… and they were hooked.

Consider strippers to represent the far right tail of a bell curve of women distributed by the strength of their desire for assholes, jerks and douchebags. At the far left, you have your good Christian girls with low sex drives, low impulsivity, and an inordinate fear of dying alone, childless. These women will occasionally tingle when they watch Edward get all broody in a Twilight movie, but in real life they will stick with their plush beta providers and relieve their itch for edgier guys in pulp romance novels aka female porn.

In the middle, you have most women. They like their moments of tender intimacy punctuated with Discovery Channel sex, have dated a number of badboys, have rejected a number of niceguys, like to be lied to, have had their hearts broken by men they still love, pine for that musician who always showed up late to dates and once “forgot” to invite her to his after show party, have had multiple roaring orgasms with men who told them to shut the fuck up, once caught a lover they thought “was the one” in flagrante delicto, and sort of like it when a guy doesn’t answer their texts right away, but at the end of the day (and near the end of their prime fertility years) they will settle down with a caring, dependable beta provider who remembers birthdays and anniversaries and then pop out a couple of kids with him. 1% of the kids will not be the beta’s.

At the right side of the asshole-loving curve, you find your girls who get off on being psychologically tormented by aloof men who are always one foot in, one foot out in any relationship. These are the girls who actually *seek out* the idiosyncratic charms of assholes and deadbeats and cheaters, and who, in fact, will quickly get bored with men who aren’t sufficiently dismissive of them. Niceguys have no chance with these girls. Many of these women — 20-30% of the total eligible female population — have daddy issues or a history of dating assholes or a penchant for wildly swinging from one alpha male to the next, but there are plenty of exceptions. For instance, I once had a fling with a stripper who lived with her married parents in apparent familial harmony. They often made her lunches to take to “work”, (although I doubted she told them what line of work she was in).

The further right on the curve you go, the more abuse the women crave, culminating in those women who secretly get off being hit by their lovers, and always race back to them for post-beatdown sex. In this dreadfully toxic pool swim your Rihannas and that chick who married the killer of her twin sister.

And waaaaay out there on the right tail is that stripper you, dear reader, are trying to keep around for the long haul.

Good luck!

But I can see why you have asked for help. Chewy, Pillsbury herblings with frump wives comfortably wrapped in the security blankets of boring marriages will balk, but the hottest babes are disproportionately found at the right tail of the asshole-loving curve. This is why learning the Way of the Jerk is a life path most men who have been shown the light strive to follow.

If you were to superimpose the female asshole-loving curve on the male crazy chick-loving curve, you would find that the female curve sits well to the right of the male curve. Or, men are less interested in dating the analogue of the asshole that women love. What men *are* interested in dating are hot chicks, and, regrettably, many of those hot chicks are just the kinds of women who swoon for JERKBOY CHARISMA.

Back to your quandary.

First, you are doing things right by your stripper girl. Dating two strippers at once is just the sort of drama they need to keep feeling that lovin’ feeling. It’s practically an asshole badge stitched to your jacket that says “Vaginas may now open for business”.

Second, forget about keeping this girl for the long haul. The moment you act like you’re trying to keep her around, she will lose interest and fly the coop. If you keep her on tenterhooks, in a constant state of dread, and only very VERY rarely hit her up with some beta reassurance game (“Here ya go, babe, you’ve had a tough week, so I got you this cheese stick”), you have a shot to enjoy her ripe but strangely discolored fruit for a couple of years that thousands of other men have seen. Or until she ODs.

Third, beware any stinky beta bait she will toss at you. Strippers have exquisitely fine-tuned senses for the slightest whiff of betatude. If you cave, even a little, she’s gone. Strippers will do things like ask you to light a cig for them, and if you comply, she’s eyeing up the dude across the room. They will try to dump their problems on you (and strippers have a lot of problems), but all it will take is one minute of indulging her whining and she’ll have an excuse to bail on your next night together faster than you can say “Shit, I shoulda told her to shut the fuck up instead”.

Fourth, supply her. Got blow? Then you got stripper blowing you for as long as your supply is steady.

Fifth, mark your calendar. If you can keep a stripper in your orbit for a year, it’s time to update your strategy. Strippers rarely last in relationships longer than a couple of years. Most stripper “relationships” are kaput after a few months. They also date mostly beady-eyed, beetle-browed assholes or the manager of their club. Because of this, many strippers subconsciously desire, after enough time getting burned by sexy thugs, a bit of the old beta provider comfort food. If you have strung her along for a year, consider doing something nice for her. Now don’t go crazy! A simple favor to drive her home from work, or a small purchase such as a T-shirt which displays the terraced outline of her fake tits, or perhaps a home-cooked meal of mac and cheese, are all it takes to warm the shriveled, dark heart pumping life to her glorious orifice.

Sixth, be Ok with her line of work. Don’t try to “rescue” strippers. It never works. They don’t want to be rescued. If you try, she will misconstrue that as a desire for a deeper, more loving, more committed relationship, and she will run. So if the thought of greasy men ogling your lover’s vagina hole gives you the willies, I suggest you go to book clubs to meet girls.

I hope this helps. Ideally, you would bang the shit out of a parade of hot strippers until they have hit the wall (age 25), leaving them used up husks of former human females, and then settle down in domestic bliss with a good girl who never had a monster bug STD or popped her tittie out for a random dude to admire. Then you have a solid, tight, swole marriage to a loyal wife PLUS great stories to tell your sons and grandsons. That’s the plan, anyhow.

You’ll notice that the graph only includes girls aged 18 to 30. There’s a reason for this. Most women older than 30 have lost their taste for assholes. They still tingle for them, but they don’t go batshit insane for their attentions, and they start to feel a strong need for betaboys and their gentle, cotton swab comfortableness. Part of this change in attitude is introspection brought on by the approaching wall; a single woman of maturity doesn’t have time to waste on assholes who are likely to love her and leave her. Partly it’s brought on by her own cratering SMV; assholes have more options in the sexual market and they typically cash in for younger, hotter, tighter lovers. You might say that an older woman’s assertions that she no longer cares for jerks is akin to a sour grape fruit salad rapidly spoiling.

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Two Words Women Need To Hear

When women ask you about your relationship status, or similarly leading questions, tell them the two words that they love to hear. The power of this reply is undeniable. No woman can resist its mystique. It’s super-charged hamster pellet, laced with PCP.

Good news! There’s another two-word answer pregnant with potential for hamsterized nuance to which women Pavlovianly react. They don’t necessarily love this reply like they love the one above, but they do need it.

This one is deployed when the woman’s drama queen quotient (DQQ, do note the relevance of the “QQ” part) has been exceeded. We’ve all been there (well, those of us who have dated hotter-than-average women have been there); one day everything is going great, the next, she’s got herself spun up into a lather about some inconsequential shit that is really a pretext for deeper relationship or dating or marital or hypergamy-denied issues. The typical beta male endures her outbursts, hoping it will all end soon, hastening it along with supplicating gestures and effusive promises to do better by her, and to his consternation and everlasting confusion gets rewarded with her resentment and sexual withdrawal.

There’s a better way. Alpha males in the audience will know it immediately. Some of them have probably used it in moments of crisis.

First, let her vent. Yes, there is a time to put your fist through a wall like an uncontrollable beastman, and a time to root yourself firmly and silently, like an oak tree, unmoved and unperturbed by her whirligig womanliness. The ratio of these seemingly contradictory alpha male responses should tilt heavily in favor of being the oak tree. Beastman mode loses its effectiveness rather quickly when overused.

After she has spent herself (momentarily, at any rate, for a woman’s DQQ energy reserves are nearly inexhaustible), gaze at her lazily and say,

“You done?”

Hamster status: nuked. Labia status: pulsating.

If you add a cocked eyebrow while saying it, you will have nuked the hamster’s home planet as well.

You may not want to stick around after dropping this bomb. Not in the same room, if you live together. Sticking around will be interpreted as waiting for a reply, and a request for continuance of her drama queenery. The better follow-up is walking away from the scene of psyche destruction, so that the words may slow boil in her brain, delivering to each scorched neuron the message that “Here stands a man who will not put up with my female shit.”

If you do stick around for more screeching, no matter what verbal artillery she redeploys your second reply should be “Good.”

Hamster cage: salted.

Wait some time, and come back to her with love in your heart. Regardless of the share of blame you shoulder for her anger, she will meekly, joyfully, relievedly surrender in apologia to your Ionic strength. Her conversation then might sound something like this:

“I know I’ve been a little crazy lately… sometimes I just wish you’d [X]… but I’ll try to be more [X] too… Im sorry, I don’t mean to be this way… do you still love me? [DOE EYES]”

This post is now done.

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