The Pay Gap Is A Lie

The Bitches of Beastwick are at it again, this time trotting out that gimp and repeatedly debunked — it’s been shot in the head a thousand times by now — hobbyhorse about a supposed pay gap between men and women.

Femcunts, listen up: the pay gap is a lie. Reporting on it favorably and credulously as if it wasn’t already proven a lie makes you liars. Filthy, clam-baked liars.

Once you control for hours worked, time away from career for family, and occupational choice (service sector and people person jobs that women innately prefer and FREELY CHOOSE generally pay less than male-oriented STEM and finance jobs), the pay gap DISAPPEARS.

So why, given that these facts have been out there for years, do feminists like President Obama continue sticking their fingers in their ears and lying through their teeth? Eh, you may as well ask why a warthog is ugly. It comes naturally.

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Shacking Up Vs Tying The Knot

What advantage accrues a man who decides to cohabit instead of marry? Well, for one (and it’s a BIG one), women tend to let themselves go once they’ve extracted marital vows from their men. Here’s a referenced study which shows that once a woman gets what she wants from a man, she doesn’t (subconsciously) care anymore about pleasing him. (Study title is hilariously droll: “Entry into romantic partnership is associated with obesity”.)

Several studies examining longitudinal changes in romantic relationship status report a differential sex effect of entry into marriage, with greater weight gain in women (9,10,30). Women may be differentially impacted by transitions in romantic relationship status; for example, through increased social obligations encouraging consumption of regular meals (31,32) and larger portion sizes (33), resulting in increased energy intake (30). Further, entry into cohabitation or marriage is associated with decreased physical activity (34) and a decline in desire to maintain weight for the purpose of attracting a mate (6). In contrast, obese women may be less likely to marry (35). Our longitudinal findings suggest that both men and women who enter marriage are more likely to become obese, consistent with findings from another large, racially diverse sample of young adults (36). Moreover, we found that individuals who lived with romantic partners for a longer duration had higher likelihood of incident obesity suggesting that shared household environmental factors may contribute to changes in obesity.

Cohabitation may not be good for society in the long run (we’ll see how Scandinavia turns out), but in the here and now it is very good for the individual man, and most people think in the latter terms. As a friendly reminder, a wife bloating up and disfiguring her womanly profile is as repulsive to a husband as he would be to his wife if he lost his job and confidence and skulked around the house with his chin buried in his chest, begging for morsels of sexual release.

Again, we come back to incentives, latent or blatant, and their influence on human behavior. Men have “hand” within cohabiting relationships, while women have hand within marriage. Women are on their best behavior — read: their least bitchiest and gluttonous — when they are cohabiting with men who can leave them at a moment’s notice with little cost to the men. A woman in such a precarious circumstance feels inchoate pressure to maximize her sexual appeal, both physical and temperamental.

Conversely, wives who are not kept in desirous thrall to their husbands — read: hubby became a mincing betaboy or lost his social or economic status, or the spark simply vanished from the passage of time and mundane familiarity — gradually slip into their worst behavior, which includes getting fat and ugly, as the science and conventional wisdom demonstrates. Now, women who do this in pre-marital relationships can easily be dumped; but within marriage, not so much, at least not without SEVERE cost to the disillusioned husband. Women know this, on a very deeply primitive apebrain level, even if they don’t discuss it or acknowledge it outright. Which leads to…

Maxim #204: Modern marriage is a waiver of liability that relieves wives of the responsibility to remain attractive to their husbands.

Corollary to Maxim #204: The modern marriage waiver of liability does not extend to husbands, who must remain optimally attractive to their wives so long as the marriage is intact and the cost of failing in this responsibility is excessive.

Let’s be clear about this, so you don’t get the wrong impression reading these issues in the stark, remorseless light in which I prefer to present them. Social, sexual and romantic incentives and disincentives don’t operate in a coldly calculating way — it’s not like a wife punches numbers into a mental spreadsheet or draws up wistful pros and cons lists before willfully deciding that an extra tub of Ben & Jerry’s won’t matter since her husband can’t divorce without losing a lot of money and the house and kids. The differential power structures of various relationship models aren’t grasped by the bit players in anything more than a gut feeling.

No, these still-human behavioral reactions work on the level of the id. Without really thinking about it, the existence of an incentive to behave a certain way subtly and slowly influences a person to act in accordance with their self-interest. What that self-interest is varies by context and circumstance. A single woman seeking love will avoid overeating and take a lot of yoga classes so that her tight bod will catch the eyes of, hopefully, some high value alpha males.

A married woman who has achieved her objective of locking a man into long term commitment backed by the strength of the state will feel imperceptible undertones or impulses that guide her along paths which take her away from staying sexually desirable and toward fulfilling her other hedonic needs. It doesn’t help her attraction for her husband that the threat of state sanction effectively neuters him by rendering his choice to remain married to her one of coercion rather than mutual delight.

Game is a useful ameliorative to these natural human instincts, (and I know how much asserting that gets under the skin of anti-gamers). But I’ve seen it in action; a husband who uses game (or charisma, if it helps your digestion) on his wife will mold her incentive structure so that selflessly pleasing him takes precedence over selfish solipsism. This will happen because, as I’ve said previously, up-front, near, tangible incentives trump downstream, far, less tangible disincentives. A sexy husband woos a wife better than a powerful state and natural inclination woos her away from him.

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Women, Divorce And Misleading Statistics

Feminists like to point to statistics that supposedly show that divorced women experience a fall in their standard of living as proof that wives are reluctantly initiating divorces to get out of marriages to ill-behaving husbands. There are two problems with this highly misleading statistic (assuming the stat is true in the sense it is being used):

1. The presumption that women are thinking through the long-term and less tangible financial consequences of divorce when the short-term and more tangible incentives are all in the woman’s favor.

A woman who knows she will get half, the house, and custody with child support thinks she will hit the jackpot in the event of divorce, because those rewards are immediate and tangible. She won’t be as likely to think through the prospect of diminished career potential or sexual market value. Incentives matter in human behavior, and front-loaded incentives matter more than downstream disincentives.

2. The drop in a divorced woman’s standard of living, if true, is likely based on a faulty comparison with her standard of living while she was married. The better and more relevant comparison is between the standard of living of a divorced woman and her life as a single woman before she got married. Do divorced women live better than they did as single women BEFORE they got married? That is the useful metric which will shed light on whether divorce really is a bad economic decision for women.

In related news, Jason Malloy’s data at The Inductivist on divorce initiation and reasons given is illuminating:

Assuming that those who assign blame are the ones that initiated the divorce, and had a “good” reason:

Wive initiate 70% of divorce and blame the husband 40% of the time. (60% of female initiated divorce is unprovoked)

Husbands initiate 30% of divorce and blame the wife 21% of the time.

(79% of male initiated divorce is unprovoked)

23% of divorces are males “trading-up”
28% of divorces are males “screwing-up”
——-
51% of divorces due to men

42% of divorces are females “trading-up”
7% of divorces are females “screwing-up”
——-
49% of divorces due to women

So women are much more likely to “trade-up,” but men are much more likely to “screw-up”. And the two cancel each other out. Both men and women are seemingly responsible for about half of divorces.

This should put to rest the feminist and white knight lapdog lie that men are primarily responsible for marital failure because they aren’t “manning up”, or are behaving irresponsibly. (Paging Charles Murray…) Women really do initiate at least half the cases of divorce because their husbands have turned unattractively beta, or because they have crossed paths with a more desirable alpha male and indulged their instincts.

Indeed, if we restrict our focus to the under-acknowledged role of female hypergamy in sexual marketplace functioning, then it should be obvious that a major cause of divorce in this country — women trading up — has gone almost entirely unreported and unremarked upon by the discourse gatekeepers, aka Lords of Lies.

Furthermore, and most shockingly to feminist and manboobed sensibility, a strong argument can be made that in the moral calculus defining parameters of blame for marital dissolution, “trading up” is a much worse impetus for divorcing than is “screwing up”. After all, a woman who is compelled to trade up is turning her back completely on her marriage and the vows she made to her husband. In contrast, a man who screws up by, say, partaking of a one night stand or drinking too much, has not necessarily turned his back completely on his marriage, though his screw up may convince his wife that the union is not worth sustaining.

I think, given the nature of the data and the differing biological predispositions among men and women to weigh the gravity of sexual infidelity and emotional infidelity unequally, that it is fair to say women are the prime drivers of the divorce industrial complex, and that this fact, for reasons that go to the heart of the equalist utopia project and feminist prerogative, is actively ignored and suppressed by the commentariat and legal system.

But not anymore. Heh heh heh.

For more on this subject and a debate over the precision of Malloy’s data, check out this post and comment thread.

Update

wfprice makes a good point about the way feminists use standard of living statistics misleadingly:

I tend to reject the statistic, because it usually refers to a feminist study from the 1980s (when academic feminism had carte blanche to make things up). However, it’s true that a woman’s income often looks low on paper following divorce. This is because child support, child tax credits, EIC, property transferred to woman from ex-husband and other benefits are not counted as income. In the meanwhile, it looks like a man’s expenses have gone down, because he no longer gets to claim these expenses on his tax returns. The truth, however, is that she gets all of the supposed increase in his living standard and then some directly in her pocket. The statistic is so deliberately dishonest that it ought to be called what it is: a lie.

Divorce is deliberately set up to ensure that women lose as little as possible when leaving their marriage for whatever reason. Men, of course, are punished no matter what the reason.

A good rule of thumb is to just start with the working assumption that anything which falls out of a feminist’s craggy mouth is a lie.

The reaction of certain quarters to men’s rights has been fascinating to me from an observer’s perspective. The obstinately blind who think men’s rights advocates are whiners really need to get a grip on the fact that the family court system is arrayed against men’s interests. It is grossly unfair to men in its favoritism toward women. Some systemic injustices really are injustices, and not just figments of some broken person’s imagination or examples of confirmation bias.

As I have explained before, there is a very good evolutionary reason why this state of affairs has emerged and persists with little push back from women *or* men: in the unrestricted playgroud of nature, men are disposable. (And women are perishable. Hi, PA!) One man can do the reproductive job of 1,000 men, if necessary. Our hindbrains have evolved over millennia to reflect this biological reality, and it manifests in the ease with which we send young men to war but recoil at the prospect of doing the same to young women, in the compulsion to blame marital breakups on men no matter the facts and to excuse women’s misdeeds, in the quickness with which men’s natural sexual urges are demonized and demagogued while women’s natural sexual urges are lauded as steps toward empowerment and self-actualization, in the permissible bias in family courts against men and for women, in the relative lack of concern for jailed and destitute deadbeat dads compared to the outpouring of sympathies for struggling single moms and divorced women, and in the full weight of societal opprobrium levied against male caddishness in contrast to the revulsion and willful ignorance expressed for confronting female sexual nature, hypergamy and all, honestly and openly.

I could go on with examples of this sex-based disparity in empathy for pages.

Since these are hindbrain reactions, I don’t expect logic or concepts of fairness to appeal to anyone except the victims. Best you can do is what I have done: get all the love and sex and intimacy without the legal Dame-ocles sword swinging over your head. The best feminist is a disarmed feminist.

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Ugly Women Are More Likely To Be Careerist Feminists

Chalk up another scientific confirmation of Heartiste theory: ugly women who can’t attract a desirable man switch strategies from finding a provider male to collecting the resources themselves, (and then rationalizing their life choice using the rubric of feminism).

A controversial study has concluded that the real reason women pursue careers is because they fear they are too unattractive to get married.

The research team, made up of three women and two men, said that when men are thin on the ground, ‘women are more likely to choose briefcase over baby’.

And the plainer a woman is, they claim, the more she is driven to succeed in the workplace.

Central to their argument was the idea that women have evolved to become homemakers and men, providers.

They said this means that when men are scarce in a particular area, women, and particularly less attractive ladies, may decide they need to provide for themselves with a well-paid career. […]

After collecting data from across the U.S., they found that as the number of eligible men in a state decreased, the proportion of women in highly paid careers rose.

In addition, the women who became mothers in those states did so at an older age and had fewer children. […]

The final experiment tested the researchers’ suspicion that less attractive women would be more interested in careers because they might find it difficult to secure a partner.

The 87 young women were given mocked-up newspaper articles describing the sex ratio in nearby university campuses and were asked about their views on family and career.

They were also asked how attractive they believed themselves to be to men.

Those women who saw themselves as being less desirable than average were highly likely to be career-orientated.

Here’s a picture of Hilary Rosen, the über feminist who said stay-at-home mother Ann Romney never worked a day in her life:

Hot babes usually put marriage before career, and tend to have happier love and family lives. This is why ugly feminists with multiple degrees insult stay-at-home moms so vociferously; ugly women feel, on a deep visceral level, that their ugliness is the real reason why they don’t have the things that better looking women have, so they pretend they never really wanted those things or that the women who want those things are somehow lesser women, inexperienced, provincial puppets of an imagined patriarchy who don’t understand the joys of climbing the corporate ladder. These feminists are, of course, engaged in a heated, scorched id campaign of lying to themselves.

This all ties back to the growing dystopia of single momhood and men dropping out of sexual market contention. When women work or collect government largesse, their economic independence renders men in their income bracket less desirable as mates, because women are naturally hypergamous and prefer the company of higher status, more powerful men. A vicious negative feedback loop ensues, wherein men deem that efforts to make a pittance are no longer effective at securing women’s sexual interest, and women with fewer mate options pursue careers as a substitute for the loss of acceptably higher status beta provider males. Throw in obesity disfiguring large swaths of young womanhood, the divorce industrial complex creating perverse incentives for women in loveless marriages, and a skewed sex ratio with too many men living into their prime reproductive years, and you’ve got a recipe for total societal breakdown, unprecedented antagonism between the sexes, and a playing field ripe for men to plunder using the charismatic arts known as game.

In a future post I will explain why intelligent men need to learn game and start marrying and having kids with dumber but hotter chicks in order to save Western civilization. Not joking.

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Science Proves Race Is Not A Social Construct

I’ve never understood how this leftie assertion “race is a social construct” got off the ground — I mean, I have two eyes, I can see what people look like — but for whatever reason all sorts of brainwashed numbskulls cling to the meme like a life raft. How do you argue effectively against people who so brazenly defy common sense and observable reality? At some sufficiently degenerate mental nadir it becomes impossible to engage such a person rationally. You just mock them and hope they shrink away in shame.

Mockery’s great, I love it, use it a lot in my daily life. But once in a while it’s pleasing to throw an icy cold splash of scientific debunking on false beliefs. If the perpetrator of the false belief is not insane, actual science proving the contrary might give him pause about spreading his lies. But better than that, and more probable, it will win over weak-minded conformists and status whores who are gullible to the liar’s feelgood, twisted logic, thus ostracizing him from normal people.

On that premise, here’s a loaded study — loaded with implications — about a new DNA test that can ID a person’s race.

Frudakis’ test is called DNAWitness. It examines DNA from 176 locations along the genome. Particular sequences at these points are found primarily in people of African heritage, others mainly in people of Indo-European, Native American, or South Asian descent. No one sequence can perfectly identify a person’s origin. But by looking at scores of markers, Frudakis says he can predict ancestry with a tiny margin of error. […]

But the real [reason it isn’t popular with police]? DNAWitness touches on race and racial profiling — a subject with such a tortured history that people can’t countenance the existence of the technology, even if they don’t understand how it works.

“Once we start talking about predicting racial background from genetics, it’s not much of a leap to talking about how people perform based on their DNA — why they committed that rape or stole that car or scored higher on that IQ test,” says Troy Duster, former president of the American Sociological Association.

Aaaaaaaaand…. meme CEDED motherfucker. You can’t find DNA markers of social constructs, but you sure can of biological reality. The fear here, naturally considering the PC crushing potential unlocked by such technology, is exactly what Troy Duster, former president of the American Sociological ASSociation *cough* dissembling shitsacks *cough* suggests: that the tech will be able to find genetic markers that correspond with certain behaviors and attributes. And at that point, the whole house of equalist cards carefully built up over the last, oh, 150 years, comes tumbling down.

The fear exists because those professing it know, deep in their squirrelly little hearts, that the propaganda they cherish and espouse is wrong, has always been wrong, and soon everyone will know of its wrongness. I think what they really fear is blowback. Or perhaps hopelessness. Or sinecures. Or all of that, plus the loss of a status cudgel to wield against their close cousin lessers.

Tony Clayton, a black man and a prosecutor who tried one of the Baton Rouge murder cases, concedes the benefits of the test: “Had it not been for Frudakis, we would still be looking for the white guy in the white pickup.” Nevertheless, Clayton says he dislikes anything that implies we don’t all “bleed the same blood.” He adds, “If I could push a button and make this technology disappear, I would.”

I bet a lot of members of the current ruling regime are thinking the same thing. Which is why they shouldn’t be in power, any longer.

ps hi Cheap Chalupas!

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Word Is Getting Out

I was enjoying a punchy bowel movement in a public restroom when I overhead a conversation a man was having on the phone with a woman who was either a friend or the pretense of a friend he wanted to fuck. Droning and masturbatory, my ears perked up when he turned the subject to that Story of O meager rip-off and sadomasochism book by a female author which is currently all the rage among well-heeled urban ladies who fancy themselves feminists. One-way snippets follow.

“Did you hear about this Fifty Shades of Grey book? …Yeah, it’s about a woman who falls for a controlling, dominant guy. He’s even kind of violent. Knocks her around and stuff.”

“It’s a little disconcerting. Are women like this? Do women really go in for this sort of thing?” [laughs]

“I don’t get it, but this is all women are talking about. It makes me think that they want to be submissive. Submissive to a man.”

“I mean, I have to ask… I’m asking you because you’re a woman, and I haven’t slept with you. [chuckles self-consciously] Not that I meant to say I wanted to… or if I would I wouldn’t come right out and say it… but I figure you would tell me the truth since we’re not sleeping together.”

“Have you read this book?… Wow… You too?… You think you know people….”

“Are these degrading things he puts her through… are they exciting for women? I’ll never have a conversation again without thinking she really wants to be tied up and… yeah, women want submission… it’s nuts.”

“Is that what you like?”

I do no fairness to this eavesdropped rambling exegesis on the book that has the yoga and credentialist crowd in titters and tingles, which went on breathlessly for a heady fifteen minutes. (My grass-fed beef movement was extraordinary even for a deucing champion like myself, so fifteen minutes on the throne was not putting me out.) From the sound of his ardor, the man on the phone could hardly believe there existed this secret garden of women’s desires, and having stumbled into it clumsily tried to utilize the subject as a hook for a possible tryst with the woman on the other end of the line. Also from the sound of it, she didn’t bite.

I think this book is something of a watershed cultural moment for the SWPL class, filled floor to rafters with masculinized careerist broads and cloying beta males. Word is getting out among even the mule-headed beta males that women are, most of them and especially those feminist shrikes who’d like you to think otherwise, engines of depraved sexuality who really want to belong to a dominant man — belong in the biblical and servitude sense — and that no indignity is off the table for them should the right badass come along and give them what they truly crave.

Pulp romance and sex novels like Fifty Shades of Grey are the female equivalent of male visual pornography; let there be no doubt, these books are female porn, as salacious and titillating for women as close-up jackhammering is for men. If you decry the one, you must decry the other if you have any interest in being perceived as fair-minded and consistent. But will you ever hear a media darling feminist call out these books for what they really are? Of course not. For what they really are is a technicolor ringside seat spectating into the soul of woman. Fantasy is a reflection of real world desire, and as much as it is true men would hardly hesitate to fulfill in real life a fantasy about intimately plowing a Victoria’s Secret model, it is equally true women wouldn’t hesitate to be the defiled bedroom slave of a charmingly sociopathic, powerful alpha male.

Think about this revelation for more than a Twitter’s length moment. These pulpy romance books targeted at female audiences are all implausibly similar; you will never encounter a plot line that deviates much from the universal script except in the most trivial details. There is a badboy. There is an indignation, or a series of indignations, to which the female “protagonist” consents or endures, and enjoys despite her conscious declaration to the contrary. There is a niceguy the woman feels bad about not loving. There are societal expectations that add drama to the proceedings. There is sexual surrender preceded by interminable verbal foreplay (the “close-up” for the female reader). And there are pages upon pages of delirious, exquisite hamstering.

Feminists rush to claim that these sordid female fantasies are just that: fantasy. But then why is it these books of female porn never showcase a woman having a torrid affair with an attentive, polite beta male who does the dishes and shows up for dates on time? If these desires were outcroppings of the realm of fantasy alone, severed from real desirous thoughts that can be acted upon, then reason dictates women in all their glorious individuality  — nawalt, don’t you know! — would fantasize in the fantasy-dedicated lobes of their brains about a random assortment of scenarios and male archetypes. Yet the thematic universality persists.

The conclusion is obvious: women fantasize about the types of men they do (like the slavemaster from Fifty Shades) because, like men watching porn, it gets them off. And what one dreams about — or reads or watches — to get oneself off is thrillingly close to the same thing that gets one off in earthbound life where flesh meets actual flesh.

It’s a good thing beta males are being exposed to this raw look at female nature in ever greater numbers. From the mouths of (aging) babes. Chalk one up for the information superhighway and its unsupervised off-ramps kicking a peg from under the princess pedestal. Perhaps with this new, unsettling knowledge, more betas will train themselves to become alpha and in turn make more women happier and sexually fulfilled. Or perhaps this cadre of illuminated betas will drop out, resigned to their hopelessness and cynicism, and slowly, inexorably withdraw the funds and the mental fuel that prop up the de facto polygyny society in which they play little part except as mop-up crew after the main attraction has ended.

Either way, the rouge has washed off this whore. The illusion is shattering. No one wants to be a dupe. My prediction is that women will regret having thrown the doors wide open on their whipped and gagged ids, invigorating hordes of disaffected or romantically noncommittal beta males in consequence. The losers in this game will rightly wonder what it has gotten them. And the heretics will say some roars were better left stifled.

In the meatime, as always…

I’ll be poolside.

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The Reason Beta Males Pedestalize Women

Why do so many betas harbor gauzy delusions about female sexual nature? Why are monogamously inclined traditionalists, manginas and white knighters so quick to sanctify women and paint their misbehavior in rose-colored hues while simultaneously offering unconditional support and shitlapping amen choruses for women when they accuse men of committing a litany of hackneyed misdeeds?

I’m here to provide what I believe is the most parsimonious answer to this riddle:

Beta males are rarely in a position to witness the worst of women.

Put yourself in the typical beta male’s shoes. He spends a goodly chunk of his horniest years — teens to mid 20s — when holes in watermelons look like acceptable vagina substitutes, pining for ethereal hot chicks who don’t pay him a lick of attention as they swoop by him on a cloud of incandescent purity. He sees them only from afar, where his imagination is free to feverishly fill in the gaps with only the most pleasant assumptions about his dreamgirls. When the rare communication does occur, she is as nice and kind as a saint to him. He is too smitten to recognize the hint of pity and condescension laced in her polite chat.

Later, usually college, he fumbles his way through awkward social interactions with plainer janes, the great majority of which end up with him being used for emotional sponging and ball-twisting, torturous friendships. All these girls are exceedingly, superficially kind to him because, after all, why look a gift herb in the mouth? A girl loves beta male attention, as long as it’s platonic, on her terms, extractive, and focused on feeding her ego. Naturally, these girl-friends never talk about their sex lives with the beta, never reveal what really goes on behind closed doors, and never invite the beta to join them on any adventures that really matter to him. Contrary to media popularization, betas rarely hear “This one time, at band camp…” from girls in their social circles. What they often hear instead are requests for help with term papers.

Then, due more to a combination of luck and (ovulation cycle) timing rather than bold effort or charm, the inoffensive beta male might find himself in a fledgling relationship with some semi-cute shut-in nearly as awkward as he and already past her beauty prime. She really likes him and treats him well… more sincerely than the cuter girls who made a sport of cockteasing him at any rate… but like ‘Rat’ Ratner from ‘Fast Times’, he labors for months and months waiting patiently for her to put out. For reasons beyond the beta’s ken, she is an extremely modest girl. He interprets her chasteness as evidence of women’s all-round goodness and saintliness, but of course he is sorta pissed off that she won’t satisfy him without months of “getting to know each other” warming up. When he finally does bust that cherry, after painful years wandering the celibate desert, it’s all he can do to stop himself mentally affixing a halo atop his girlfriend’s head, and pronouncing all women the undistilled essence of goodness.

A few pitiable betas, like those with bitch tits, horizontally stretched navels, and receding chins who wear ‘this is what a feminist looks like’ t-shirts, get trapped in sporadically sexual relationships with manjawed femcunts at grad school, mostly because long-winded bull sessions among their kind occasionally spin up enough libidinous energy to resolve in PBR-fueled late night groping, which is promptly regretted and/or rationalized by one or both parties the next morning, usually the girl.

Eventually, the beta male gets married, and his lack of experience — one to three lifetime “partners” (and I use the term loosely) is the norm — has cultivated in him a strong inability to read women’s signals, which sometimes leads him into blissful ignorance where infidelities can linger for years unnoticed, and “Surprise! I have a divorce paper!” gambits accost him like hammer blows to the head. Mostly, though, he floats through his marriage thinking the best of his wife, and worst of himself should feelings turn sour or the sex dry up. Because this is just what men are supposed to do when a woman is less than happy: take the blame. Women are the weaker sex, after all.

So you see, in the final analysis, it is very likely, by dint of the beta male’s ignorance, inexperience and habituated veneration of women and reflexive indulgence of women’s motives, that his view of women is severely constricted, child-like in its naivete. The beta male is not privy to what Tyler Durden famously called the secret society of women. He was never invited, and he was never apprised of the secret society’s goings-on by any woman in his life. He lives in a pinched world with only a peephole to the wonders beyond, given him not by insight but by stumbling into depravity or by the good grace of a sympathetic alpha male. As far as he knows, women don’t have much sex, and they are very nice and polite most of the time.

The beta male pedestalizes women because one, that’s all women have deigned to show him of their sexual inner world, and two, he cannot bear the contrary thought, affirming and cementing as it does his lackluster place on the sexual totem pole. (He is mired down in the sticky pubes, his vision obscured, while alphas dance joyously at the tip of the glans.)

As for the women, those few who have not experienced the thrill of the alpha male often are nearly as chaste as the beta imagines, because they have never been tempted. All they know are a parade of beta males, whom they lash out at occasionally for unwittingly stifling their truest desires, but who, for the most part, they treat in a nontoxic manner that buttresses heavenly notions about their secretive natures. A woman is ever aware of the precariousness of her reputation, and this goes double in rural outposts of heavy religiosity.

And so the beta male has his crimped worldview confirmed by the asexual, undersexual women in his life. But should he ever step outside his empillowed existence… take that daring step into the gritty, grimy world where the female id roams free across fruited plains of phalluses… screw up the courage of heart to face head-on the previously unimaginable… he will find that a bigger universe has existed all along, enveloping the bubble of his life, surging with unleashed energies just out of his reach like uterine aurorae, and if his soul isn’t killed dead right then from shock, he’ll cross the boundary into this new world — he won’t really have a choice — and never look back.

Nor ever again blindly assume the purest of women’s motivations. The stronger among them do with this newfound knowledge the following: acknowledge, accept, incorporate, delimit. He rules his knowledge, but he does not let it rule him.

Such boundary crossing is rare. The beta and alpha male worlds are almost as separate and distinct now as they have been since the dawn of anonymous urban living. Though that is changing.

If betas knew what alphas experience, it would blow their minds. Completely, utterly. Out from under the judgmental Eye of Proper Society, equipped with the requisite beauty to pay the price of admission, the wild female libido is insatiable, crass, debased. It is willing to surrender to the most vile sexual plunderings, screaming in ecstatic pleasure at every enthusiastically welcome violation. Women of the sweetest daytime dispositions and most innocent countenances — smartly coifed women in demure business suits who expound drily on cost-revenue projections and wait tidily in lines for healthy lunch alternatives — will unleash vaginal hell in the arms of alpha lovers, squirting glorious love over dominant men who swap them like baseball cards, presenting like beasts in heat for throbbing units in dank dive bar restrooms, casually spreading as far as they can go in locked office rooms for illicit lovers, giggling in breathy whispers in their lovers’ ear about the clear and present danger of getting caught, deliberately effusing a fake sorrow for the cheated-on boyfriend back home unawares, bemusing wistfully about a history of letting alpha lovers snort coke off her ass while claiming another headache to evade hubby’s entreaties.

Beta males never see this world. To them, it doesn’t exist. And that’s exactly how women want it.

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