Moments Of Alpha

Continuing with our series, I relate an episode. In an ornery mood made worse by my need to take public transit and the usual company that entails, two girls — one cute, the other chubby — giggled while repeatedly glancing in my direction.

I was stretched lengthwise, tiredly in my seat, appraising the two gossips through bored half-lids. The chubby one suddenly leaned forward and pointed at my feet.

“Nice clown socks.”

On any other day I would have gamely smiled at this distaff insouciance, and prepared an amiable springboard for a few minutes of distracting banter about the sexual allure of clowns. But that day I was a foul-tempered beast with a thousand yard serial killer stare.

“Thanks. Nice clown face.”

The chubster fell backwards in her seat, wide-eyed and slack-jawed. Her cute friend slowly grinned and glistened in the eyes, a telltale sign she glistened elsewhere. I slipped the shiv in further.

“I mean, if we’re gonna share opinions about total strangers.”

It was a thin crowd, so the sound barrier of our repartee was largely confined to our immediate meatspace; nevertheless, an older woman and a younger man overheard, and both chuckled.

I wasn’t sure, but I could have sworn the cute friend inched away from her chubby compatriot, just a little, but just enough to reveal the repulsion of chubby’s defeat and the pull of my jerkboyishness.

The Problem With Sex Surveys

Sex survey accuracy is suspect because of “social expectation bias“, which influences sex survey participants to respond in the way they think is socially acceptable. Sex surveys are back in the news because word is getting out to the masses that recent survey data shows younger generations are having less sex, something that strikes people as odd given the current Western cultural climate of utter depravity.

But besides social expectation bias (and the verified observation that women tend to lie more than men on sex surveys), there is something else at play that corrupts social survey findings: The ambiguity of the terms being used on the surveys and in synopses of results.

For instance, what exactly does it mean to “have less sex”? Yes, it means numerically to have less frequent sex (say as measured on a per month basis), but the assumption then is that this means fewer partners. It doesn’t. It is possible, (in fact, as CH will argue, probable), that less sex means more partners.

Compare a 1950s 25-year-old woman to a 2014 25-year-old woman. If sex survey results are to be believed without qualification, that 1950s woman was sluttier; she had sex 6 times per month compared to the 4 times per month the 2014 woman is having. The unthinking reader may exclaim, “holy crap those 1950s housewives sure got around!”

Ah, but that’s where a little knowledge of the sexual market can help your powers of induction. A married, faithful 1950s housewife who deeply loved and admired her bring-home-the-bacon husband would welcome sex six times per month. She would be ravenous in the sack. A sexually voracious woman is not a slut unless she spreads her sexual voracity among many men.

Now fast forward to our 2014 Götterdämmerung sexual market. Our 25-year-old woman is not married, and she is not dependent on any man for her discretionary cash needs. She dates a lot, but needs at least three dates before having sex with a man. She had one long-term relationship in high school, but since then it’s been all short-term post-collegiate flings. She meets a new man she’d like to bang about once every four months, which means she endures long dry spells between dates. She has a lot of sex with a man after he’s stuck around for longer than three dates, but her dry spells mean that her average sex frequency is only four times per month. Her relationships usually top out at six months now, so although she has less sex than her 1950s counterpart, she is far sluttier, having amassed a lifetime partner count in the double digits.

The lesson of this post is that the only reliable way you’ll get accurate data on how many different dicks the typical American woman invites into her chamber of intercourse is by insect-sized drone spying on her and recording every moment of penetration. Otherwise, it’s just her word on a piece of paper, and that plus a buck will get you a buck.

Orca’s Razor

Most of you are familiar with Occam’s Razor, the principle that of two or more competing theories to explain a phenomenon, the simplest one is likely the true one.

With a nod to Occam, CH introduces Orca’s Razor.

Orca’s Razor: Of two or more competing theories for why men don’t want to date fat chicks, the most spurious, most convoluted, and least plausible explanation that assuages the egos of fat chicks and their barely male enablers will be insisted as the correct one.

A case study of Orca’s Razor in action (via reader yeahokcool):

from the front lines of tortured logic (see comments):

guy: I’ve dated a lot of heavier girls and I’ve definitely felt the judgement from other men. The problem isn’t that men don’t like big girls; it’s that men don’t like the way other men look at them when they’re with big girls.

girl: Yeah, I don’t think this is commentary on forcing yourself to be attracted to someone who you’re not attracted to. It’s about letting societal pressure bully you out of being attracted to someone who you ARE attracted to.

reality: yes, you are being judged by other men and women because you are everyone innately knows that only losers are fat and/or date fat people. furthermore, women fail, yet again, to realize that their attraction to men is entirely different than men’s attraction to women. i love how much women (fat ones, particularly, i imagine) just WANT these comments to be true!

Orca’s Razor is in effect the inverse of Occam’s Razor. Instead of slicing away superfluous concepts, Orca’s Razor slices the most elegant explanation to shreds, and then presents as incontrovertible fact the id gruel that is a mix of the viscera of various feelgood theories that were made up from whole cloth with the express purpose of avoiding and nullifying the simplest and truest explanation for why men are repulsed by fat girls.

Occam’s Razor: Men don’t date fat chicks because fat chicks are disgusting to look at.

Orca’s Razor: Men don’t date fat chicks because men secretly like fat chicks but have to suppress their urges to avoid being looked at in a funny, judgmental way from other men.

Like most equalist cant, Orca’s Razor is poopytalk pumped at high volume to fill you to the eyeballs with shit so you’re blinded to reality. No one is ever truly blinded to reality, as we can see by the real life decisions that people make even inside hothouse leftoid reeducation camps, but that won’t stop the walrus warriors from rolling over to crush newborn realtalk that chafes their megafauna hides.

 

Comment Of The Week: Deere John

COTW winner newlyaloof experiences what it’s like to be on the receiving end of a typical woman’s exquisitely honed talent for manipulation.

Women want everything in life – except for their men – to appease them.

Wife just called asking where lawnmower key was. I recognize this now for what it is. A shit test for me to say, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll do it when I get home.” But, I told her where the key was and to have fun. Haha. I could tell she wasn’t ready for that. She responded a few comments about hopefully being able to figure it out (again more guilt-loaded shit tests to get me to say I’d do it). I told her to have fun and she’d learn a thing or two. She replied, “Well, does it have any gas in it?” (another attempt) I replied, I don’t know, but fill it up if it needs it.” She replied, “No, I don’t want to fill it up with gas.”

See, she wanted the grass cut. She didn’t care about how busy I am or how many other priorities I have in front of the grass. She wanted appeasement on the grass, plain and simple, but she didn’t think it was worthy of her time to fill it up with gas. Think of that betas. She didn’t feel it was worth one minute of her time to fill up the lawn mower, but an hour of my time cutting the grass with it was.

Like the Federal reserve and our money supply, the more appeasement you give out, the lower your value. You’ve got to defund the Hypergamy Reserve one monetary-asshole-unit at a time.

I’m afraid it’s in the nature of woman to believe an indentured servant waiting on her hand and foot is an unalienable right granted by possession of a vagina. That’s why men need game… to disabuse women of that notion. Because the alternative is sucking up to ever more egregious demands for ever fewer opportunities at her snatch.

***

COTW runner-up is a putative female reader, cynthia, who writes,

Appeasement: to yield or concede to the belligerent demands of (a nation, group, person, etc.) in a conciliatory effort, sometimes at the expense of justice or other principles.

The MAN wants to appease. Peace, reconciliation, quiet.

The WOMAN wants something entirely different. We want drama.

You guys want the game to stop, with definitive results. We want the game to keep going forever.

Pithy. And surprisingly insightful… for a woman. (“for a woman” is the new “not all women are like that”.) Men do a lot of up-front hard work to court women, and so justifiably feel they should be able to coast once within the comfy confines of an LTR. Victory in war, followed by a long peace.

Women want none of that. They crave the drama, and get antsy when it’s missing. This is because women, unlike men, have shallow but wide and hungry egos that need constant validation. This need for validation issues from a subconscious realization that their worth is almost entirely tied up in their (fading) looks, while a man’s worth is connected to many facets of his life. Women lose sexual value at just the time that men gain sexual value, and from that dynamic is born women’s insatiable need for ego-validating drama to, paradoxically, quell their fears that their men might trade up.

Now of course there are those few men who are good at seducing women, who relish the game, and who take pleasure in turning the crank on the hamster wheel of up and down emotions. These men are dangerous precisely for the reason that women can’t help but love them so.

Incel Vs Insol

Incel stands for involuntary celibacy, and it refers to beta and omega males who, for a variety of factors, are horrible with women and wind up enduring long and unwelcome sexless droughts. Rumor has it there are whole forums of quasi-men who, for reasons likely having their origin in mommy’s quickness with the back of her hand, nurse a deep hatred for game and “players”, and who spend most of their time on these gayforums analyzing with the precision of a spectrometer the facial dimensions of various pick-up artists for their conformity to Brad Pitt’s visage, apparently believing that no man ever in the history of the world who didn’t look like Brad Pitt got laid with a cute chick.

The incel is now an internet caricature, loathed and ridiculed by men and women equally. But there’s a female analogue of the incel. And CH was reminded of this when resident female apologist Amy, once again bravely trying to salvage the reputation of her sistren with squirrely semantic maneuvers intended to evade the Guns of Heartisterone, made the claim that there are men who would willingly sleep with fat chicks and that this must mean those men find the fatties sexually attractive.

But what about beta fat guys with no game? There are plenty of them. Who are they going to date? They want relationships. They’re going to end up with women like this [fat] chick. And they must feel some attraction for them if they’re having sex.

Settling isn’t attraction. Settling is, for men, finding a hole that is a little bit wetter than the couch crease. Losers settle for each other all the time. But fat chicks are so repulsive to men that there aren’t enough omega males willing even to settle for them as a last resort and think of England while spelunking the pig. As a result, fat chicks are alone more often and for longer dry spells than are thin girls. And the fatter the girl, the more intractable her involuntary solitude. Call it… Insol.

The Insol is the female equivalent of the Incel. She fails at finding the one thing in life that is most important to women: The love and commitment of a desirable man. Her failure is no less dispiriting or cruelly mock-worthy than is the failure of the omega male who can’t get laid in a brothel with a fistful of hundreds.

People don’t think of fat or ugly women going long spells without love, because those women are adept in ways that beta males aren’t at concealing their misery from public scorn and pity. And, to be sure, the fat chick has a better shot of getting pumped once or twice than does the omega male of getting laid. Because of this slight sexual disparity, and because of the male instinct to project their sensibilities onto the female sex and imagine that getting laid is proof of romantic success, the Insol receives more of a break than the Incel.

Sure, you’ll occasionally hear about fat chicks getting face fucked by drunkards, but rarely will you see them in long term happy relationships with men who aren’t complete rejects. And this reality grows with the pounds. Female fatness has exponentially increasing blowback. Ten extra pounds won’t put too big of a dent in a chubster’s sex life, but 100 extra pounds will relegate her to incel with the omega males.

Loser women, like fat chicks, can sometimes pull off a simulacrun of a relationship, but only after a lot of time alone and sacrifice of anything worth living for. The occasional sight of a fatty in an LTR notwithstanding to the contrary, most fat women go epically long times without a man’s love. You just don’t see them because most fatties don’t advertise their loneliness the way loveless beta males advertise theirs.

The problem with the “even the ugliest/fattest women can get laid” trope is that the issue is not whether a fat chick can manage once in her life to get a weirdo to drill her face for three perfunctory seconds in an alcoholic haze. For women, sex isn’t the relevant metric. Women want love and commitment with a high value man. On that score, fatties fail miserably.

Even if we limit our claim to three second drunken sex with losers, fat chicks still have problems in that department that thinner girls don’t have. It’s hard to directly compare the two groups because thinner/prettier girls are less slutty than fatties and fugs, but if we draw on the subset of sexy thin girls who don’t mind boffing the same losers that fatties boff, then we would find the fatties badly outcompeted for the sexual attention of those losers.

Simply put, there is the tendency of people to miss what they don’t see. Omega and to a lesser extent beta males repeatedly try and fail with women. We see that. Fat chicks, being women first and fatties second, are more passive about courtship. When they fail, it tends to be less spectacular, less conspicuous. They are simply ignored rather than rejected. When fat chicks fail in the dating market, they retreat away from men or they surround themselves with female friends so that they can continue engaging the social scene without the stink of celibacy driving them to isolation or handicapping their ability to converse with strangers. The involuntary loneliness of fat chicks is thus more concealed than the loneliness of loser men.

In contrast, incel men don’t have large groups of socially attractive male friends to shield them from their own failure. The sexual poverty of the male incel is more readily apparent in his loner lifestyle and his bitter, stunted personality. When he fails, he retreats, regroups, fails, retreats again, and the cycle continues. His failure is unmissable.

In the grand scheme, incels and insols are two sides of the same coin. Both lose in the sexual market. Both lose in the LTR market. Both suffer long droughts of sexlessness. If there’s a difference between the omega male incel and the female fatty insol, it’s that perhaps the fatty can amass (heh) a couple more lays in her lifetime than can the omega male. But two extra lays over a lifetime does not a proud, confident, non-bitter woman make.

Children’s Phrases As Game Material

The title of this post is deliberately provocative. I want to force some of you “men’s men” to think outside the stoicism über alles box. I know you’re thinking, “Get out of here with this poverty game!”, but read on.

Children’s playground taunts may sound silly to the corporate-groomed adult, but as anyone who’s used them to tease women into a state of flirtatious excitement will tell you, they are effective weapons of vag seduction. Young boys are natural alphas until it’s beaten out of them (sometimes literally) or until puberty makes them forget how ably they tormented little girls into gleeful hysteria.

Naturally, as a grown man, you wince thinking about what it feels like to flirt with a woman with the aid of turns of phrase that you’d hear ricocheting from a jungle gym. But once you witness the reactions of curiosity and engagement you get, you’ll put aside your doubts. Because you’ll soon realize that children’s phrases are perfect adult vehicles to communicate the alpha attitude that women love so much.

Some modification of the delivery is all that’s required to make back-sass work for the adult you. You aren’t a high-pitched little kid blessedly innocent of ironic posturing, so your delivery will necessarily be more wry, more self-aware, and more monotonic. The following is a CH-approved list of kids’ phrases that you should add to your attraction stimulation arsenal.

smell ya later
SIKE!
blah blah blah…… NOT.
what? [repeat to taste]
to the max
as if
ooh, i’m telling!
burn!
your mom. [i like to insert this in random parts of the conversation]
i know you are but what am i
right, and then you woke up
did your parents have any normal kids?
guess who’s not wearing any underwear
in your FACE [long version: up high, down low, in space, in your face]
take a picture it’ll last longer
fatty fatty two by four [only use on obviously skinny chicks]
so funny i forgot to laugh
say it don’t spray it
hay is for horses [use when girl yells “hey!” to you]
haha, you’re on the welfaaaaare. [if girl complains about money]
what’s that on your shirt? *snap your finger under her chin or nose*
made you look!
i see london, i see france…
nice face
that’s not what your mom said last night
[motion her over with your finger] do you always come when a man fingers you?
Y R U gay [sung to tune of YMCA]
raise your hand for a high five, then when she lifts her hand you quickly drop yours and say “who’s gay”
up high, flip side, other side, down low, too slow!
i know karate [assume bruce lee stance]
*cough* princess! *cough*
get away from me with your cooties
go on with your dorky self
somebody call the whaambulance
you wish
*fingers in ears* i can’t heeear you
make “whatever” W with fingers
make “loser” L on forehead with fingers
princess says what?

Readers are welcome to add to this list in the comments.

PS Here’s the wikiHow article describing how to playfully tease girls.

When Evolution Fails

Can evolution fail? I offer the following thought experiment as evidence that there are circumstances in which evolution proceeds along a path that violates its own precepts.

A high SMV (sexual market value) man who likes the idea of being an anonymous father but not a real father, donates to a sperm bank. One thousand low SMV (fat and/or ugly) women get impregnated by his sperm and have one son each. Will this de facto harem leader’s sons grow up to be

a. more attracted or

b. less attracted

to fat or ugly women?

As commenter Arch Hades put it,

Higher quality male peckers have evolutionarily evolved to not want to impregnate fatties.

But what happens when a high quality male pecker makes a contribution to the wombs of low quality females via an aesthetically neutral conduit like a sperm bank? The intrinsic desire of the man for slender, beautiful women will still be passed onto his one thousand sons, despite the fact that, from his genes’ point of view, he willingly plunged the portals of a lot of gross women. He didn’t start with a predilection for fat or ugly women, so whatever genetic code he passes on through the sperm bank women won’t appear in any of his male progeny as an increased attraction for ugly women.

In this instance, the ironclad law of evolution has been overturned. The “attraction for ugly women” genes that would increase in a state of nature where men with those innate predilections seek out ugly mates and pass their predilection onto future generations does not increase in this scenario of the sperm bank acting as middleman.

Now one could say the sperm bank is unnatural and thus the laws of evolution don’t apply, but anything created by humans must be natural in the sense that culture and its appurtenances are manifestations of genetic architecture previously selected for. The sperm bank is as much a part of the evolutionary biofeedback loop as is the stick that a chimp uses to flush out termites.

What does it say then about evolutionary theory that a sperm bank can essentially sever the connection between reproductive fitness and sexually selected traits? What about contraceptives? In a sense, condoms and the pill act like individually owned and operated sperm banks, altering the ancient equation between female (and male) sexual choice and what kind of children they eventually bear (or not bear).

All this is to say we as a species are entering uncharted territory. Anyone who thinks there won’t be awesome consequences lacks the requisite imagination.

Interestingly, you can sort of see the outlines of the above ugly female client sperm bank scenario playing out in real time in the bars and clubs across America. Just substitute “ugly female client sperm bank” with “fat women”, and the picture crystallizes. Like the man contributing to a sperm bank patronized by ugly women who would otherwise only have sex with attractive women, a nontrivial number of men are crossing their lower bound of acceptable female sexual attractiveness to rut with fatties out of necessity and fear of unwilling celibacy. As upwards of 70% of all American women are heavier than their ideal weight, it’s simply a matter of insufficient suitable mate availability driving an evolutionary trend that is at odds with actual reproductive fitness or male sexual attraction predilection.

The future, should my attempts to clear the SMV fog prove prescient, looks like a horror show of gargantuan beastwomen and sexually and romantically unfulfilled men drifting in and out of each others’ lives in a loveless nihilistic melancholy.

***

PS On a related “Is evolution failing?” note, the buzzy AmRen article titled “Confessions of a Public Defender” is a harrowing read, and provokes some illicit thought about where we are heading demographically. The impression one gets from this titillating exposure to the minds and values of the zoo animal underclass is that the moral senses… fairness, reciprocity, empathy, guilt, even a basic conception of right and wrong… may very well be unevenly distributed not only among members of the same race but between the races in general. If you quake at the idea that average IQ varies by race, how badly will your bowels shake if it’s discovered that some races are more, or less, morally evolved?

CH has gone out on limbs before that have proven to be supported by trunks of strong empirical oak, and we’ll go out on a limb again, one so far up the tree that few if any will have the balls to venture out with us. Morality and empathy are evolved traits, and like many human traits they will be found in varying degrees and complexities of expression among the world’s races. Given this, the civilized nations would do well to consider that their jurisprudence systems are incapable of impartially subsuming the less morally evolved in a manner that suits their own elevated moral sense. If you cannot or are unwilling to grasp that the defendant sitting across from you is closer in temperament and moral evolution to a feral beast than to your kin, you will forever be stricken with crippling doubt about the nature of your race’s achievements and philosophies.

Demographically, then, it becomes imperative that advanced peoples act to limit the fecundity of relative moral degenerates in their midst, or barring that to erect barriers against the incorporation of the upwardly moral and the downwardly amoral. And yet the exact opposite appears to be the rule of the land currently. Evolution is failing, thanks to a warped altruistic impulse that has provided and sustains a fitness advantage for morally infantile, and thus exceedingly dangerous, humans. Again, like the sperm bank scenario above, the state of nature has been upturned and bifurcated by a middleman — in this case, misplaced leftoid equalist generosity towards lesser people who would impulsively kill them without losing a wink of sleep — and traits that would normally get culled due to the dual pressures of sexual and natural selection become instead numerous and widespread.

Deus ex machina has become hominis ex machina.

PPS This post is supameta, and readers will find it hard to resist pointing out the impossibility of evolution “failing” in a system that is part of the natural universe, but as humans we have also evolved a disposition to employ value judgments that maximize our Darwinian fitness, which is a jargony way of saying that an impersonal natural process can indeed fail if it results in the failure of the one species which has proven capable of identifying that process.