Beta Female Relationship Whoring

Reader MrJohn writes:

I didn’t know where else to talk to someone about this thing I’ve witnessed, so why not here. Valentine is really a great holiday to spot the betas of the world. Here’s a beta from Sweden. All seen on Facebook. The girl (24) and the guy (about 28) has been dating for about a half year. The past months she’s openly called him ‘hubby’ on FB, although they are not engaged. She’s pretty much unemployed and has definitely gained a lot of weight lately. I don’t wanna post pictures of her, but she’s a solid 6. He looks a bit feminine, bordering on gay with his facial expressions. He works his ass off to please her. The typical Swedish guy I guess.

Looking at her page, she has been posting almost every hour of the valentines evening. And at mid-night she’s summing up the evening: (Yeah updating Facebook before giving him sex or any other trivial activity)

“Last pics to summarise our night  saw this movie here, got 15 roses of my favourite colours, three course dinner and finished the day with slow dance in our living room. I have such a wonderful man. Thank you (name). Love you with all my heart and hopefully 80 more years of this to come <3″

– attached are photos of them together in restaurants, with roses and all that.

I feel sick somehow. Am I just too sensitive? Perhaps this is the way to do valentines?

What has sickened you, gentleman reader, is the phenomenon of the beta female engaged in the act of relationship whoring.

You are right to retch, for beta female relationship whoring (BFRW, sounded out “Beef Raw”) is among the most transparent of ego-stroking ploys utilized by undesirable or marginally desirable women. You really want to call them out but, hey, polite society and all. That’s why we have this blog; so you can say what’s on your mind with the kind of freedom that nowadays only naive, small children or cantankerous old farts get to enjoy.

Women of questionable sexual worth who have “snagged” men of higher value, however precariously, are frequently susceptible to feeling urges to advertise on the flimsiest pretexts the undying love their loosely committed boyfriends have for them.

The reason the beta female feels this urge is because such overblown advertising of her relationship strength (as defined by the extent to which the man caught up in her shenanigans lavishes her with gifts and paeans to her awesomeness) serves multiple evolutionary purposes:

1. It signals her fidelity to her one-foot-in-one-foot-out boyfriend. Many men will settle for women less pretty than their ideal if those women compensate by offering implied (paternity) guarantees of present and future faithfulness.

2. It warns away female poachers. If her boyfriend is moveable product, there is a good chance he will bolt at the first sign of interest from a hotter girl. Women love taken men, but their predilection to act on that evil female instinct may be suppressed if the girlfriend of the desired man can fool her hotter competition into thinking he only has eyes for her.

3. It stroketh thine ego. A girl with a well-lubed ego is a happier girl who will be a more congenial girlfriend. (Congeniality nullified if happy ego results in ice cream aided fattitude.)

4. It is social oxytocin (or proxy oxytocin). The hormonally-charged bonding that naturally occurs in the early stages of a relationship can be synthesized quicker by ruses to project the relationship to a point in the future when it would presumably be stronger and more committed. Players use a modification of this strategy to speed up the time to sex, called time compression, time distortion, or future pacing.

5. If the girl is a bit prettier than average, say a 6 or 7, and on the wall side of 25, the beta female relationship whoring strategy could just as easily function for her as a self-regulating mechanism which “tricks” her into feeling stronger love for her boyfriend than she might in actuality feel, thus hindering any impulse she might have to trade up and risk a sure thing. Women have a more powerful “trading up” urge than do men, and this instinct can get them in trouble if they don’t have the self-discipline to know when they have a good thing and act accordingly.

Relationship whoring is essentially a technique employed by lower quality females for discouraging the competition and for encouraging the fence-sitting boyfriend to discard his fantasy of scouring the field for a hotter replacement. It can also serve to push a woman closer to a beta boyfriend so that she does not ruin herself on a perpetual hunt for commitment from an elusive alpha male.

If you doubt the efficacy of this strategy, here’s a thought experiment. Tell me, as a man, given two women of equal facial and body attractiveness, would you find it harder to dump or cheat on a woman who was emotionally distant and giving little indication she was interested in an LTR, or harder to dump or cheat on a woman who professed your mutual love to the world and tacitly confessed her utter devotion to you?

I mean, unlike me, assume you are a non-sociopath in the above thought experiment.

You may ask why one does not nearly as often witness this vile practice of BFRW from hot girls, or from very ugly girls.

Well, in the first case, hot girls have more options. They are thus less likely within any given relationship to feel as urgent a need to restrict their own choices by advertising their status as taken women. They are also less apt to feel insecurity about their boyfriends’ levels of commitment, (men are way more willing to stick around and invest if the lady is a champ), and they are less afraid of competition. (The threat of competition that would arise by dating a desirable alpha male is counteracted by the reduced threat of competition from being better looking than most of her female peers.)

In the second case, uglier girls (4s and under) don’t resort so much to the BFRW strategy because they don’t generally date men who are of sufficient sexual market value to entice female interlopers. The ugly girl is with a low value man, and nobody wants either of them, least of all themselves, despite the alacrity to which they resign themselves to their moribund romantic fate.

Middling girls are the ones who most benefit from BEEF RAW. Facebook is filled with 5s, 6s and 7s promoting pics of their candlelit Valentines dinners with herbish boyfriends looking for all the world like they’d rather be gunning down starships in an MMO.

What’s especially revealing about the BFRW subculture is that a man can indirectly appraise his own SMV by his inclusion or absence from BFRW antics. If your girlfriend has posted pics of you and her in all manner of romantic obsequiousness, you are probably a beta male with just enough SMV to avoid involuntary celibacy. If, in contrast, your girlfriend admirably restrains herself from the lure of online attention whoring and shouting your abject devotion to the heart of the world, you are probably an alpha male dating a good-looking lady of character. Hang up your player vestments, because…….. hahaha, who am I kidding!? You were gaming in your mama’s womb (stealing her resources) and you’ll be gaming till your last breath leaves you.

So, no, reader, this is not the way to do Valentine’s Day, unless you are a beta who doesn’t mind putting up with suffocating female crap and scaring away hotter girls who might be future conquests. Just get her a Skittles bag, enjoy her everlasting love, and be happy you aren’t getting pushed off-course your program to maintain relationship limbo in perpetuity.

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Reader Mailbag: A Valentine’s Day Plea

A reader celebrates the holiday of love:

I won’t bore you with my long story. Ex of 8 years cheated, dumped me, I learned about game and Alpha Males, started being awesome. She came running back, I backslide by banging her for a few months while seeing other women too. Learned she banged two of my friends. Was an idiot and let her end things.

I’m doing ok now, teaching myself to destroy my enemies and relentlessly chase my dreams. Can’t help but be irritated at this callous bitch and the shitty friends who chose her used up vaj over friendship. I’m moving on, [ed: are you sure?] but there is one thing I really wanna do…bang her sister.

Sister is younger than her by 5 years, looked up to me in her teens, isn’t my biggest fan after the breakup, but when in the same room we’re friendly. What angle can I use to try and seal the deal and destroy my ex for good.

Don’t you love a heartwarming Valentine’s Day story?

First of all, you’re not over your ex if you want to “destroy her for good”. That said, I know the feeling of exacted vengeance, and it feels good. Banging her sister would certainly do the trick, although there are easier ways to rain pain upon your ex-flame. (Ya know, just letting her see you in the company of a hotter girl would work, too, and without inviting all that messy familial shit.)

Women are naturally competitive, though they may sweetly claim otherwise, so I’ve no doubt your ex’s sister has at times entertained the thought of stealing you for herself. Now whether she still entertains that thought is open to question. I get the vibe from your email that you didn’t comport yourself in an attractive, aloofly alpha manner during your drawn-out breakup.

How about this angle: Try innuendo. Plant the seed of oblique romance and tell her a variation on these words: “Your sister is a great person, despite flaws we all share. It didn’t work out, but that’s for the best. When I was with her, there was often… someone else on my mind.”

Linger, linger, aaaaaand… walk off. Return another day to escalate the flirtation. Poison the sisterly well by absently remarking on this or that negative comment your ex made about her sister, true or not. Wonder aloud if your ex ever made moves on her sister’s boyfriends, because, ahhh, forget it… ok, ok, there was that one time she mentioned something weird about dancing with Kevin… yeah, yeah, you figured it was her Kevin your ex was talking about.

You get the idea, champ. Whatever you do, DO NOT tip your hand in the slightest that your pursuit is driven by butthurtness. You must remain as cool and calculating as you were, presumably, when you first seduced your ex.

***

Reader #2 asks:

From a transcipt on Obama’s State of the Union speech last night:

“And we’ll work to strengthen families by removing the financial deterrents to marriage for low-income couples and do more to encourage fatherhood, because what makes you a man isn’t the ability to conceive a child, it’s having the courage to raise one. And we want to encourage that. We want to help that.”

Your thoughts?

Nice platitudes. Prepare for wallet raping. Because wallet raping is all this present day crop of pols knows how to do.

***

Reder #3 wonders about girls and horses (horse cock sold separately):

I continue to meet and (sometimes) date females who are into riding horses. Sometimes they own the horses… sometimes they lease them, sometimes they just ‘rent them’. However, as I continue to meet more of the horse girls, the more convinced I am that something just isn’t right.

Unfortunately, I live in an affluent area in the county where sometimes the cost of the horse exceeds the cost of the house people live in, and they cherish the horse more than anything else.

Some help for us guys who continue to run into them? Are there any stable ( ha ha) horse chicks out there? Should I continue to date them and see where it goes? Have you had any experience yourself?

A < snarky fat feminist who thinks she’s clever >metric fuckton< / snarky fat feminist who thinks she’s clever > has been written about the love pretty girls have for horsemeat, ahem, cantoring stallions. Theories abound, and you can search for them at your nearest internet kiosk. My personal favorite theory is that the horse is a surrogate for the exciting badboy: dangerously explosive power tamed precariously under her tender tutelage. The horse evokes her nurturance instinct, her desire to monopolize and channel male (or animal) power, and her thrill for wild, unpredictable beasts with soulful brown eyes.

Remember, folks, we gave this gender the vote!

I’ve been around girls who either had family-owned horses or went horse riding semi-regularly. Very loosely, they tend to favor hard-charging, elitist men, kind of like their horses. Some of the older horse-loving women are closet lesbians, but the younger ones are hetero and usually feminine. Psychologically, they are different than cat lovers with respect to their propensity for drama; the cat ladies have it in spades. Other than that, further stereotyping eludes. Too many crazy SWPLs have clouded my ability to discern extra special craziness in female sub genera.

***

Reader #4 has lost his taste for his womenfolk:

So, I’ve dated lots of girls in life, and I’ve dumped most of them.  Mostly, they’ve been lunatics, liars, and leeches.

In time, I started dating other ethnicities.  Eventually, I married an asian.  I’m caucasian.

I see lots of 7s and 8s these days, and they’re mostly caucasian.  But for some reason–for some strange reason–every time I see a caucasian chick, I’m filled with disgust and I’m repulsed on some levels.  Why?  I’m not a racist.  I’m not a liberal white self-hating kind of a guy.  It’s just that I’m “formed” in this way.  Something compells my subconscious to say “she’s worthy, she’s cool” if she’s from some other exotic locale.  But my own white skin?  I just don’t trust it.

Thoughts?

What’s happened to me?

The troll is strong in this email. But, it’s soon to be Valentine’s Day, and I’m feeling gullible.

Some minority of people in any race probably have a limbic disposition for other-race mates. I dunno the number. Say, 5%. These peeps, of whom you may be one, are particularly aroused by exotic women, and in particular naturally feminine exotic women, such as the asian. It could be nothing more than that.

Or, you may have had a damagingly bad experience with a white woman and the event left you with a repulsing psychological imprint which redounds to all white women.

Whichever it is, I’m not sure why I included your email in this mailbag, except perhaps to throw stinky chum into the commenter water. And this is why National Review won’t annex my talents.

***

Reader #5 would like to know how to deflect attention from a girl he doesn’t care for:

Been running game for a couple of months. Seeing some good results but also interest from the wrong areas. One girl, a high 7, is obsessive. Just for fun, what’s the most beta set of moves I could pull to make her stop feeling attraction?

Get caught fucking a dude in a furry suit.

Well, you asked.

For real, just stop talking to her. If she’s not the psycho sort, she’ll eventually take the hint and cry it out in her dim bedroom alone.

But, if you don’t have the patience to wait it out, and kind of like having her around for pivot reasons, I suggest the following betatization program:

1. Pretend every second of your day you are hiding from alien probes. Sit hunched, look nervously around the room, cross your arms and legs, hold your drink up to your nose, shudder a lot, shuffle, hang your head, spaz out at hearing loud noises, cry for no reason, look at your shoes when you speak, announce that flourescent lighting scares you.

2. Confess that you love her. Make sure to sound as nervous as possible. Apply fake sweat beads to your forehead. Tell her you wrote her a poem, and would like to read it aloud. When she screws up her face, cry. Whine that you just knew she wouldn’t like it.

3. Confide to her that you’ve been having erectile dysfunction problems. Say that you don’t mind telling her because you feel so close to her.

4. Constantly accuse her of seeing other men. “Were you with somebody yesterday?” “Who’s that guy? You know him?” “Did you sleep with him?” “Why do you have so many guy friends?” “Don’t you think it’s weird that you talk to other men besides me?”

5. Ask her if she loves you. Ask her twenty more times until she gives an answer that is acceptably foul to you.

6. Espouse feminism.

There are plenty more ball-shriveling tactics, but these should do the trick. If they don’t, you are probably lying that she is a “high 7”. Fat, desperate loser would be my guess, because no woman with a modicum of sexual value would be able to withstand that beta onslaught for long without retching.

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The Season Of Donating

It wouldn’t be Christmas spirit if I didn’t ask readers for generous gifts under the Donate Tree over there ===>

The giving of gifts, the receiving of gifts. You know you want to. It feels good! Like handjobs under the table at a fancy restaurant.

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The Alpha Male Gifts That Women Love

One time, I recorded myself singing a song I wrote for a girl. I used a hand-held recorder, so the quality wasn’t good. You can hear a dog barking in the background and rain falling outside on the patio. We eventually broke up from intractable circumstances, but keep in friendly contact occasionally, and she tells me that to this day my recording is the only item of love she has from any man that she refuses to discard.

Cost of this gift to me: zero dollars.

Psychological value of this gift to both me and her: priceless.

Ability to leverage this gift against future girlfriends who know about it: infinity priceless.

The alpha male gifts that women love are never what Kay Jewelers, Zales or VisaMastercard tell you they are. The gifts women love the most are not those gifts that by virtue (or vice) of their cost demonstrate the extent of your beta provider resource pool. No, the gifts women love the most are those gifts that demonstrate the personality traits of the alpha male, a man with romance in his heart despite carrying the burden of multitudinous options with women in his groin.

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Petraeus And The Infidelity Risk Curve

A reader writes amazedly:

I like sex as much as the next guy, but I’m amazed at what men will throw away to get it: a Presidency (B. Clinton, DSK), a 38 year career, CEO positions, money, respect, freedom…it just doesn’t make sense. No matter who she is, she’s not worth it. IMHO, obviously.

He speaks of Generals Petraeus and Allen and their Lebanese immigrant, faintly masculine mistresses (last I checked of this labyrinthine lovers’ octagon.) Yes, the scent of an attractive, height-weight proportionate woman is strong, stronger still when her surroundings are populated by bloated pustules formerly known as women. Scent of a Womb, you could call it. Men sniff it in the air, like a wolf picking up the odor of prey animals, and they are sprung to action. But it is useful to remember that as strong as that fertile pussy odor is to men, equally strong is the alpha male odor to women. Perhaps even stronger in women, since alpha males are so much rarer, and thus more exciting when discovered, than are young fertile women to men, who need only stroll around a SPWL neighborhood for a few minutes to ogle ten or fifty babes who can adequately stiffen the staff.

A woman in a room with a four star general is as overtaken by powerful urges to FUCK AND FUCK NOW as a man is when in the company of a pretty, young woman with suppleness in all the right places. You just don’t fiddle with the god of biomechanics and expect a slurry of sexual harassment lawsuit threats or career-ending consequences will keep His Dark Eminence at bay and the work environment safely borg-like and aridly void of sexual tension.

Feminists can screech and shriek, manboobs can pule, white knights can huff and puff, but, like all of us, their knees too will bend to the cosmic prime directive.

The scandal itself — so mundane in its predictability* — is only noteworthy for three reasons:

1. The conspiracy angle. It’s hard to avoid suspicions that Petraeus was not going to be fully cooperative on Benghazi and was therefore summarily deep-sixed by timely revelations courtesy of Team HopeandChange.

2. The male archetype on display of the “beta male in alpha clothing”. Too many people readily confuse occupational status for alpha maleness, when it’s a man’s attitude, first and foremost, which imbues him with the alpha allure. Although very high social status and alpha maleness correlate, it is by no means exact. Petraeus’s (or was it Allen’s?) self-incriminating email avalanche is some proof that he harbors the soul of a beta. A real alpha male does not do the email equivalent of gushing like a lovestruck schoolgirl, unless he really was lovestruck. (More on that later**.) He especially does not do this when he is high ranking military brass with a lot to lose should his illicit effusions be discovered.

As for the archetype of Beta Males In Alpha Clothing, these types of men get action from women entranced by their status, but then quickly lose these women’s interest when their betaness reveals itself in manifesting clinginess. The leader of men can be just as blind to the nature of women as the celibate omega male or the cloying beta male. Leader of Men beta males are often victimized by their mistresses because the women don’t have the strong feelings of love and loyalty to them that they would have to attitudinal alpha males.

3. The game lessons contained therein. Petraeus and Allen both miserably failed the Jumbotron test. You do not write tens of thousands of sappy emails to your mistress that you wouldn’t be comfortable airing on a Jumbotron for the world to see. That goes doubly for CIA directors. I like to follow the KISS principle in matters of the heart: Keep It Scarce, Stupid. And for God’s sake — the Draft folder? Have you dumbasses never heard of anonymizing remailers?

There are many tawdry twists and turns in this saga soon to come, I’m sure, but you really only need to see two pictures to understand pretty much 99% of what’s going on.

The wife…

And the mistress…

Wow, notice that masculine digit ratio she has? That, plus the squared off, clenched jaw and forehead zit are leading indicators that this broad is well on her way to breaking a land speed record for cock gobbling the alpha males in her midst.

How in tarnation is Petraeus’s potato sack poster wife for Puritan living supposed to compete with this fuel-injected sex machine? There isn’t a man alive who would pass up a chance at tapping that harlot if his only alternative was Miss Massachusetts 1687. You may as well dangle a chunk of raw meat in front of a starving lion’s maw and expect it to sit still for twenty years.

Look, I’m not claiming Broadwell is any raving beauty. She’s probably around a 7, adjusted for age. And she has that incipient manjaw going on, a classic tell of the late stage America, careerist shrike tankgrrl female with clit dick. But in relation to the wife, she’s a hard 10. Hard enough to cut diamond. If your wife — and I say this with the utmost clinical detachment — is utterly unbangable, then a 7 prancing around your office day in and day out, year after year, in high heels, pencil skirt and a sexpot squint will test the resolve of the most religiously indoctrinated or divorce theft-averse man. Every day you don’t expel yourself in the tramp’s come hither wicker is one more day you drag yourself home to suffer in stark contrast the sad, depressing sight of the Michelin Ma’am dutifully holding down the home post. Your guilty thoughts will eat you alive either way, so you may as well enjoy the benefits of the burden of that guilt.

The God of Biomechanics does not reward virtue. His works are Total Gonad.

I find the notion coming from some quarters (feminists and white knights and manboobs, oh my!) that Petraeus ought to have been more virtuous absolutely laughable. The man’s station in life, if nothing else, made him a rock star in his milieu. Women would have made their sexual intentions known to him rather blatantly. Virtue is easy when there is little to realistically tempt one to vice, as is typically the case for nearly all omegas of either sex, and betas of the male sex. This was not the case here. Petraeus had the equivalent of a thousand attractive men’s temptations thrown in his face every day. A choir of heavenly saints would have trouble keeping the Boner of Light in their pants under such circumstances.

Which brings me to my next jeremiad: Tossing men and women together in the workplace is a recipe for dissolving marriages, sexually dispossessing beta males, and corraling women under the banner of a few industry captain alpha males. Men and women in a putatively monogamous society are simply not meant to be in each other’s company, away from family, all the day long and night. Is it any wonder, really, that female infidelity rates are now approaching that of men’s rates? The gender neutral workplace experiment has brought alpha males and fertile females together like no other arrangement yet devised by man. And it happened under everyone’s noses, because no one bothered to note that human nature is real, and it isn’t going anywhere soon.

There is a reason why newly minted wives rush their husbands out to the suburbs, and it’s not just to get their kids into good white schools: it’s to sequester their men from the sea of luscious young pussy that swims the streets of the cities. Similarly, most husbands are much happier when their wives either stay at home or work in jobs where they are mostly surrounded by other women or beta males, like teaching or accounting. The goal for each is the same: to reduce excessive alpha male/hot female temptations.

Of course, don’t bother telling feminists this undeniable aspect of society: they’d rather stuff purple saguaros in their ears than contemplate the merciless, gender aneutral reality of humanity. Their willful ignorance is rivaled only by their catastrophic stupidity.

*How predictable was this affair? Very. The greater the sexual market value disparity between a husband’s wife and his female coworkers, the likelier the odds of his having an extramarital affair with a woman closer in SMV to himself. This postulate is best expressed graphically:

A high status man whose wife is a full 10 points lower on the looks scale than the women he works with is guaranteed to cheat, and cheat a lot. You will notice that some alpha males advanced in the ways of self-abnegation can resist the temptation to cheat, so long as the other woman is no more than a couple points better looking than the wife. But once the other woman crosses that threshold from “kind of prettier” to “yup, she makes my wife look like a duffel bag of laundry”, the infidelity is set in stone. And only those who loathe male desire will see fit to condemn such a man for his actions.

For the recent members of the studio audience: Feminists and their lapdog beta supplicants tend to be the types to nurse an irrational loathing of natural, normal male desire.

There are those tricky little trolls who will innocently(!) ask “Don’t you feel sorry for the wife? What did she do wrong?”

I do feel a twitch of pity for her, but it stops there. She did nothing “wrong”, in the Biblical or PC sense, but the fact that she obviously felt it reasonable to so fully let herself go is evidence that she cared not a whit for her husband’s animal desires, and was probably up to her ears in feminist ideology about the uselessness and evil of appealing to the visceral demands of men for physically attractive, slender lovers. Had she stayed thin (something which is entirely possible, barring very rare physiological ailments), she would have enjoyed more loving sexual attention from her husband. But she is undoubtedly a creature of the zany zeitgeist, and as such was likely imbued with latent hatred for the idea of pleasing one’s husband in the way that husbands prefer to be pleased.

There is also the matter of expectations that are inevitably placed on women who have managed to capture in unholy matrimony a rising star alpha male. The pressure to stay sexy and feminine will be much more strongly felt by a wife hitched to a valuable alpha male. After all, he has options most men don’t. The luxury of resting on her wifely laurels to scarf down a pint of Edy’s is not in the cards for such women. To put it mildly: Ladies, if you want the alpha male, be prepared to put in the hard work to keep him amused. If you don’t want that responsibility, then go marry a beta male who won’t have the SMV leverage to complain or seek alternate humanistic outlets for his needs.

Naturally, some of you women will balk. But try this thought experiment on for size:

The fat wife of an alpha male is the SAME THING as the unmotivated, dull, needy husband of an alpha female.

If you would be hard pressed to place full blame on the alpha female for her succumbing to infidelity, then so should you think twice before placing full blame on the alpha male for his succumbing to infidelity.

If you cannot grasp this elementary logic, then you are either a raving feminist loon, or a very feminine woman who confuses feelings for reason.

**Was Petraeus in love? I bet he was. Broadwell was considerably younger than him, and considerably sexier than his wife, and those two things are prerequisites for illicit love to bloom in the heart of a man. Feminists often sputter angrily when they see a much older, powerful man with a younger woman, a reaction which arises because they are aware that what they are seeing is an asymmetrical power relationship, but even worse, that the subordinate woman in the relationship ENJOYS IT! The man likes having a pretty girl look up to him, and the woman likes having a powerful man to look up to.

I think it is within the realm of possibility, then, that Petraeus really loved Broadwell, and saw her as much more than a fun fling. He returned her love, though in the end it appears she didn’t get what she wanted from him, and her knives came out.

Will anyone in the media beside this blog talk about the genuine love Petraeus, or Allen, had for their respective mistresses? No. The belief that a man cannot love more than one woman at once is ingrained deeply in the psyche of the masses. Most cling tightly to hopes that non-monogamous relationships cannot be loving. And who wants to believe that an older man can truly fall in love with a younger woman? Certainly not the legions of older wives!

Then there is the uncomfortable fact of female nature: who among the media elite really wants to confront the reality of the base desires of women, of their yearning for powerful men, and of their natural inclination to happily assume the subservient role to such men? Who will mention how cavalierly women will dismiss the far-reaching consequences of their actions if such actions bring them closer to joyful fulfillment in the arms of their married lovers?

Love can thrive in relationships where lust is the driving force. When I read that Petraeus was having an affair with Broadwell, I was happy for him. Imagine the torment such a man with his temptations must suffer, just to keep up appearances in service to his political career and his dreary family life. But he went ahead with his affair anyway, and he did it for love. He put love ahead of duty and the wrath of the PC Kommisars. He chose to live not as the mass of men live — empty of any joy. Petraeus may be a fool and betrayer, but he is also a bold, exuberant romantic. A man willing to risk it all for a pretty woman’s love, the best thing that there is in this godforsaken world.

In the final analysis, the magnetic appeal of this story is clear:

Petraeus is us.

PS I predict that the cuckolded beta male hubbies, both of whom are “conventionally alpha” doctors, of Broadwell and Kelley will be the least examined aspect of this story by the media. Remeber, folks, men are expendable! And that goes triply for beta males. They are the forgotten lepers in the wilderness of unspoken tabulations of human worth. We will hear a never ending tale of woe about Mrs. Petraeus, but hardly a peep about the sad sacks who suffered their wives’ unfaithfulness. Some sexes are just more equal than others.

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Don’t Split The Housework If You Want The Love To Last

We here at Chateau Heartiste have been pretty uniform in our assertion that relationships and marriages are more loving, and more sexually fulfilling, when men and women abide their ancient biological roles. Happiness comes from respecting the god of biomechanics. Unhappiness from denying him.

In a study sure to make feminists apoplectic, it was discovered that couples who share household chores are more likely to divorce.

Divorce rates are far higher among “modern” couples who share the housework than in those where the woman does the lion’s share of the chores, a Norwegian study has found.

In what appears to be a slap in the face for gender equality, the report found the divorce rate among couples who shared housework equally was around 50 per cent higher than among those where the woman did most of the work.

“What we’ve seen is that sharing equal responsibility for work in the home doesn’t necessarily contribute to contentment,” said Thomas Hansen, co-author of the study entitled “Equality in the Home”. [ed: readers of this blog will not be surprised by these results.]

The lack of correlation between equality at home and quality of life was surprising, the researcher said.

“One would think that break-ups would occur more often in families with less equality at home, but our statistics show the opposite,” he said.

The figures clearly show that “the more a man does in the home, the higher the divorce rate,” he went on.

File under: Don’t listen to what women say, watch what they do.

Women have been claiming for God knows how long that they want a man who will do his share of the housework, but when he does, their vaginas dry up like the Sahara. You see, equality of the sexes is a myth. Women don’t *really* want equal husbands. What women want are strong husbands who don’t act like women, which means, in practice, not puttering around the house dusting, mopping, vacuuming, cooking, or doing the laundry. A strong, masculine man is too busy — and too proud — to do shit like that. He has a mission in life outside the home, and women love that about him, even when they claim otherwise.

The reasons, Mr Hansen said, lay only partially with the chores themselves.

“Maybe it’s sometimes seen as a good thing to have very clear roles with lots of clarity … where one person is not stepping on the other’s toes,” he suggested.

“There could be less quarrels, since you can easily get into squabbles if both have the same roles and one has the feeling that the other is not pulling his or her own weight.”

The sex’s division of labor evolved for a reason: it’s most compatible with the feminine and masculine sexual polarity. There are some pursuits and some kinds of work that are simply feminine in nature, and woe be the man who willingly takes up the woman’s work in an effort to appease her; he may as well grow a vagina, for that is how she will perceive his sexual attractiveness.

But when it comes to housework, women in Norway still account for most of it in seven out of 10 couples. The study emphasised women who did most of the chores did so of their own volition and were found to be as “happy” those in “modern” couples.

So much for the patriarchal power structure.

Dr Frank Furedi, Sociology professor at the University of Canterbury, said the study made sense as chore sharing took place more among couples from middle class professional backgrounds, where divorce rates are known to be high.

“These people are extremely sensitive to making sure everything is formal, laid out and contractual. That does make for a fairly fraught relationship,” he told the Daily Telegraph.

Middle class status striving: does a marriage bad!

“The more you organise your relationship, the more you work out diaries and schedules, the more it becomes a business relationship than an intimate, loving spontaneous one.”

Ain’t that the truth. Like CH has been trumpeting for years, spontaneity, unpredictability and a little bit of aloof frisson make Joe and Jane a happy couple. Pro-tip: Steer clear of ballcutting battle axes with honey-do lists.

“In a good relationship people simply don’t know who does what and don’t particularly care.”

America, fuck yeah! Just keep seducing your lover, and who does the “chores” becomes a non-issue.

The researchers expected to find that where men shouldered more of the burden, women’s happiness levels were higher. In fact they found that it was the men who were happier while their wives and girlfriends appeared to be largely unmoved.

Call this the Manboob-Schwyzer Syndrome. Guys do housework because they think it is the way to appease feminist shrikes, and then feel happy about contributing, while women get more depressed as their attraction for an apron-wearing kitchen bitch plummets.

Since women’s happiness largely dictates whether a marriage will last or dissolve, equality-minded husbands ought to be aware that their good deeds are going punished in the souls of their wives. You want to kill the sexual vibe in your wife? Start splitting the housework. She’ll never look at you as a sexy stud again. You want to keep the love strong? Let her clean the house. You’ll be in the garage tinkering on your motorcycle.

I really hope the harpies at Jizzebel read this and shake violently from surprise orgasm.

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182 Days Of Blue Balls

Are happiness and sex antagonistic? A new study reports that couples who waited to have sex were happier in the long run. (Usual caveats about the accuracy of Daily Mail reporting apply.)

A study of hundreds of couples found those who waited to have sex were happier in the long-run.

Women particularly benefited from not leaping into bed at the first opportunity. Marriage also seemed to make them happier than co-habiting.

The researchers said delaying sex gave couples time to get to know each other and work out just how compatible they were.

Without this period of courtship, judgment can be clouded, leading to couples falling into unfulfilling long-term relationships. […]

Analysis of the data clearly showed the women who had waited to have sex to be happier. And those who waited at least six months scored more highly in every category measured than those who got intimate within the first month. Even their sex lives were better.

The link was weaker for men. However, those who waited to get physically involved had fewer rows.

Abstinence makes the heart grow fonder? Would seem like it. But not so fast.

First, I’m not surprised women who waited — or, more precisely, made their beta boyfriends wait — were more satisfied with their relationships. Women are psychologically, and ultimately biologically, predisposed to prefer holding out for sex, because it allows them more time to judge men’s mate quality and investment potential without risking a pregnancy by a man who might flee the next morning. There are very good evolutionary reasons why a woman would make a suitor wait as a test of his commitment to her. A man who is willing to suffer 182 days of this:

…is a man who is likely to stick around after she pops out a newt.

Second, selection bias. Does waiting to have sex really make couples happier, or are couples who are more likely to wait for sex also more likely to be content and fight less within long-term monogamous relationships? I suspect the latter. The kind of people who empathize easily and go along to get along are also the kind of people who have the patience of a saint. I bet people like this also have lower sex drives. It’s doubtful that sex itself, or refraining from having sex, is the causative factor in their happiness.

Third, some recent studies have shown that men derive their happiness within relationships from their lovers’ happiness. That is, when their women are happy, men are happy. The reverse is not necessarily true. So a woman who has held out for sex to make an “unclouded” judgment — and isn’t it funny that women think more clearly when abstaining from sex, while men think more clearly when sexually fulfilled? — is more likely to be happy with her choice of man, and consequently her happiness will infuse her man’s happiness level. But a man would be just as happy with a sexpot who put out early and often as long as she was happy with him (and faithful).

The biggest problem with this study is definitional. Happiness is not love, and it’s not sexual attraction. Love is passion. Happiness is contentment. Love is volatility. Happiness is calm acceptance, even noble resignation. Love is dizzying crescendos. Happiness is rhythmic tempo. Love is hope. Happiness is the relinquishment of hope. Similar contrasts can be made between happiness and lust. Conflating all these as if they were of equal merit, or equally valued, is misleading.

Most couples do not wait 182 days to have sex with the goal of maximizing their mutual happiness, and so we can conclude that most couples are willing to forego long-term happiness for short-term ecstasy. Our revealed preferences indicate that happiness is not high on our mental checklist of values or emotional states.

It’s an intriguing hypothesis, though, that the happiness women gain from lengthy periods of enforced abstinence they sacrifice in sexual and romantic satisfaction. The committed beta provider that female-compelled (and it’s rarely male-compelled) abstinence selects for comes at the cost of losing the sexy alpha cad that female-compelled abstinence selects against.

Maybe some massively underacknowledged subculture of preternaturally abnegating abstinent Evangelicals exists of which I’m only dimly aware that skews the average time couples spend in sexless purgatory well into the double and triple digit days, but in the world I live in — the one that’s pretty much a given in any community that isn’t orthodox religious — a 60 day wait for sex is nearly unheard of, let alone a 182 day wait. In fact, a wait beyond three weeks is pretty much folly for any man dating your typical SWPL chick; by that time, she will have moved on to fucking some dude who actually turns her on. Even the women who say they want to wait longer than convention would react with disbelief if a man told them he would be willing to wait six months before having sex. It’s that weird.

What good is long-term happiness if you can’t even score the short-term thrill? There’s the rub. As a man, you are really rolling low odds by pursuing, or, more precisely, by abiding the woman’s pursuing, the “wait to elate” strategy. The far-future happiness and relationship stability that a long sexless courtship might offer is greatly outweighed by the high risk that you de facto castrate yourself to the woman you are chastely wooing. You’d be a fool to avoid the bedroom for very long, when there is a good chance some other man will distract your girl’s attention during her prolonged bout of purity. And an even better chance you’ll accidentally say or do something during the dry months of your courtship that extinguishes the spark of her attraction for you.

This severing of happiness from sexual triumph, for both sexes, is one of the great unrecognized repercussions of the past 60 years of our Wild West mating market. And it seems like this is exactly the way most of us want it.

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