Beta Of The Year Contest

Randall Parker, writer of two blogs that I read (Parapundit.com and Futurepundit.com), suggested I run a BOTY on-going contest in which the readers submit links to beta candidates. I liked the idea, so I’ve set up a separate page at the top and right of my blog where you can leave your links to betas in the comments.

At the end of each month, I will select two betas from among the monthly reader submissions for a vote to determine the Beta Of The Month (BOTM) winner. If your link is the winning BOTM, I will buy you a beer and sarge with you if you’re in town.

At the end of the year, there will be a final reader vote to crown the illustrious Beta Of The Year all-around winner from the twelve BOTM winners. Prize for the winning BOTY link has yet to be decided.

Happy hunting!

Tip: If you like to win, you want to keep a sharp eye for the most pathetic, cringeworthy betas possible. The New York Times is usually a good source for stories involving these kinds of betas.

Thought Experiments

Thought Experiment #1

All else equal, which girl is more likely to get pumped and dumped?:

a. an “adventurous” girl who played musical chairs with the mouths of five guys in a bar one night and banged a local emo rocker in the coatroom an hour after they met.

b. a virgin.

Thought Experiment #2

A normal, emotionally stable man with a good job has been on one date with a girl he likes. She is into him. He didn’t close, but feels confident it will happen soon. One night, in his favorite bar, one of the bartenders (a guy known to be plugged into the local social scene), unaware that the man has been on one date with the girl in this story, tells the man he saw the girl making out with a random dude a couple weeks before their first date, and that a few months ago she banged one of the other bartenders.

Would this man be

a. more likely

b. less likely

to arrange an inspired, creative second date with her? to pay for her drink on the second date? to see her for longer than three months after they’ve started screwing?

Western Institutions Are Abandoning Beta Males

I’ve lovingly detailed how the institution of marriage, the cultural zeitgeist, and the government have it in for beta males, and now the matrifocal rot has spread into traditional stalwarts like the Catholic Church.

The news – and as it happens, there is some real news about all this – is that this sophisticated game of dumbing down the costs of Lust has left many people disarmed at what may be the worst possible time. Such was the plain meaning of a conference at Princeton last weekend on “The Social Costs of Pornography.” The Witherspoon Institute and two other groups organized a gathering that for once truly deserves the adjective “groundbreaking” – an unprecedented assortment of psychiatrists, psychologists, authors, scientists, and professors of sociology, psychology, law, and philosophy, summoned from around the nation to tally up and explain, in particular, the human toll of internet pornography.

Just for starters, another outstanding lie of our time – that pornography itself is a victimless, harmless pursuit – has been definitively laid to rest by these researchers. In an age of so many fake victims, they offered a torrent of data about real ones. Lawyers reported that a growing percentage of divorces now come from pornography addiction. Therapists reported that frustrated wives and girlfriends gave the ultimatum, “it’s your porn or me,” only to have husbands and boyfriends choose the former – with family trauma and breakup the entirely predictable results. All this is to say nothing of the children and adolescents dragooned into the “industry” via drugs, prostitution, and rape; or of the many other children and adolescents who have been inadvertently or deliberately exposed to internet pornography as their first template, with consequences that even the most jaded psychologists and related practitioners cannot yet imagine.

This article about the consequences of lust — porn in particular — was written for a Catholic magazine, and the study was conducted in part by a Catholic-leaning independent research group. If priests are delivering the same message in their homilies seen in print articles like this, then the beta male has truly become society’s whipping boy. There is no sanctuary for the beta when his last outpost of cross-gender social support — organized religion — has abandoned him. He still has the military… barely.

The reason longstanding traditional religious institutions like the Catholic Church are failing has less to do with growing secularism than with its turn away from a patriarchal message toward a feminized one. To blame porn for all that is afflicting Western social adhesion is to miss the forest for the trees. Instead of pathologizing beta males for turning to porn en masse, the church should be extolling wives to push away from the table. An empathetic understanding of the beta’s plight would recognize the shift in power dynamics in modern courtship and marriage — women are getting fatter and pickier at the same time, putting more of them under the threshold of attractiveness for the average man and disincentivizing him to work hard at making a relationship or marriage happy and loving. Furthermore, women hold ALL the cards once the man says “I do”, giving him absolutely zero leverage to conduct his marital affairs with masculine gusto, for fear of the law in collaboration with the amoral opportunism of ex-wives flaying the last ounce of spirit from his body.

No wonder husbands are choosing porn over their fat and psychopathic wives, who lash them within inches of their lives.

The Catholic Church, like so many other institutions of the modern West, forgot one very basic tenet along the way to post-1968 enlightenment — a woman’s sexual desire is more dangerous than a man’s, and must therefore be subject to more forceful moral teachings constraining it. (Note: I speak as an objective outside observer who sees the writing on the wall. Personally, I will continue to pursue my hedonistic lifestyle knowing full well that if all men followed my example the entire edifice would crumble to the ground in short order.)

Here’s my advice to the Church if you want to become relevant again: Encourage your priests to emphasize the deadly sin of gluttony. Shame women into being considerate of their husbands’ sexual needs. Impress upon men their duty to act in accordance with their heretofore smothered masculine essence. Bitch less about men’s aggressive sexual energy and shift the focus to women’s insidious sexual elan. Preach to mobilize action to change the laws so marriage stops being a game rigged against the interests of men.

In a word, become more patriarchal. It’s what the West needs right now. A belt of Anglo-infused XY TNT wrapped around a message delivered in a windowless van right at the steps of city hall. It’s either that, or eventually succumb to the really nasty patriarchal hordes of the lesser cultures slamming battering rams into your gleaming glass postmodern styled fortress walls.

Psycho Stalker

Psycho stalker
Qu’est-ce que c’est?
fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa far better
run run run run run run run away
oh oh oh

When you experience the love of many women you are bound to have an unfortunate run-in with a stalker. The formula goes like this:

Number of girls in your lovemaking career + Disparity between your higher value and the girl’s lower value = Odds of wild-eyed stalker ruining your carefully cultivated lifestyle.

Based on my experiences and the stories I hear from friends, you can expect one potential stalker for every 10 women you bed. If you’ve bedded 100 women without incident, the odds of the 101st woman being a stalker are still 10%, but in the bigger picture you are really playing with fire. Your luck will run out. Even worse, if your value is more than 2 points higher than hers, the risk of initiating her stalker module sequence doubles and the degree of psycho behavior intensifies as the market value differential increases.

Example:

1,000 girls banged + 5 point average difference in value = 99.99% chance you had at least one bunny boiling stalker in your life.

Glenn Close’s character was 5 points lower than Michael Douglas’ character, so the result was no surprise to any man who understands how the market works. What were the writers thinking? Glenn Close is a horseface.

To be sure, there are other factors that influence any one girl’s chances of having a psychotic episode on your ass after being dumped. If she came from a broken home, that will boost the odds considerably. Past or present drug addiction is a leading indicator of latent stalker issues. Flakes are especially prone to transmogrifying into crazy stalkers; the airheaded dippiness that annoys the crap out of you when you are trying to get your notch with her is the same mental imbalance that causes her to thrive on the manufactured drama of an emotionally explosive breakup.

Here are some warning signs to watch for:

• Did she come onto you? Major red flag. Desperate, exceedingly horny girls don’t take kindly to being dumped. If a girl says “I have a bet with my friend that I’m going to take a man home tonight”, and then she publicly assaults your mouth with her tongue, you had better have an extrication plan ready after you’ve banged it out.
• She’s a different race than you. “Exotic” girls are more likely to freak out on you after a dumping. My guess is that girls who date outside their race are the type of outliers who engage in all sorts of crazy behavior.
• She’s a former fatty. If you’ve been pumped and dumped your whole life, you’re really not going to like it when you get dumped as a thin girl. She’ll think to herself “I look great now! Why am I still being treated like a one night stand?” On the other hand, many former fatties are so inured to getting dumped that one more doesn’t much faze them.
• She’s a virgin. Be gentle with these rare birds. They are a dying breed.
• She’s under 25. The more hardened and cynical a woman is, the less likely she will go insane after a breakup. Young girls are flooded with bonding emotions that older women simply don’t possess anymore.
• She orgasms easily and vaginally, multiple times. If the girl cums effortlessly during intercourse, your cock will be like a drug to her. Withdrawal is a bitch.
• She’s making plans for the next date before you’ve finished shooting your load across her back. These are the types of girls who spend more waking hours living in fantasyland than in reality.

What to do if you have a stalker:

• Number one rule: CUT OFF ALL CONTACT. Ignore her calls, texts, emails, etc. If you see her on the street, walk on by as if you don’t recognize her. The most innocent backsliding on your part will only encourage her to continue stalking. You don’t want to give her even the slimmest shred of hope. In 90% of stalker cases, total radio silence usually does the trick in two to three weeks.
• Lay down the hammer of hurt. If ignoring her doesn’t work, and she’s stepped up her stalking to sitting on your stoop waiting for you to return from work, you’ll have to get medieval on her. “You dumb fucking psycho cunt, I despise you, I hate you, your pussy is gross, you disgust me beyond words, I want you gone now and if I ever see you near me again I will notify your family and friends what a raving lunatic you are” should put an end to it.
• But if it doesn’t, you’ll need to escalate to defcunt level 3: Actually DO notify her friends and family. She needs an intervention, and public shaming is your best ally.
• In case you’re worried she might do something drastic: Threaten to call the cops. Some girls are so fucking crazy they’ll come at you with a weapon, or they’ll enlist the services of some big meathead they know and make up a story about how you hit her in a bar, and you’ll come home one day to this guy hiding in a bush with a bat in hand. If you think she is capable of doing that, you may want to consider calling the cops for real. It sounds kind of pussy-ish to deal with an obsessed girl by slapping a restraining order on her, but it’s more pussy-ish to explain to your future wife that you’re infertile because a girl kicked you in the nads.
• Trump card: Move out of the country.

I remember this time I banged it out with a chick who, in hindsight, met five of the bullet points I listed above. I made the mistake of replying innocuously to one of her many texts she sent throughout the following week. Two weeks later, on a Saturday night at 1AM, my doorbell buzzed. I jumped because my doorbell sounds like a cow being zapped with 10,000 volts. (If I could locate the wiring, I would disconnect it.) I could hear her outside, shuffling around and mewling for me to come to the door. I turned off the bright hallway light, locked the bolt lock and chain lock on my door, and peeked through the blinds for half a second. Her eyes were spinning. Luckily, I didn’t have a girl with me in my place at that moment, so I didn’t have to worry about explaining the situation. I went back to watching my movie, hoping she would go away. Ten minutes passed. Silence. Phew, she left. Relief.

At 2AM, the doorbell crashed against my eardrums again. Fuck the bitch is back! She must have rung all the doorbells in a spastic panic because my adjacent neighbor answered the door. I overheard their conversation. “Is [moi] in? … I don’t know, you want to check? … Yes, could I? I have these snacks for him.” He let her into the building and she knocked on my door. My heart raced. “I don’t think he’s in … Ok, let me just try once more … Ok, suit yourself, but people are trying to sleep.” Knock knock knock! I turned off the TV, computer, and all the lights and sat in the quiet dark, wondering if I should confront her or call the cops. No worse time to start a battle with a psycho chick than at 2AM. I imagined how a confrontation would go. She would cry and scream and maybe accuse me of rape as my neighbors gathered at their stoops to watch the drama unfold. No, I decided against it. She was unstable enough to cause a major scene, and if I could escape without being identified as “that guy” who has weird stalker chicks coming to his home in the dead of night, I would. So I played possum. I jumped into bed and pulled the blanket up to my chin, dreaming of happier times.

Twenty minutes later (although it felt like a year) she left. I woke up the next morning, bleary-eyed, to a bag of snacks sitting outside my door and a text from her:

i’m so sorry i don’t know what got into me. i’m erasing your number. i’ll never contact you again. best of luck.

I did not reply to that text. I noted with wry irony the “best of luck” face saving maneuver and then proceeded to show her text to all my friends later on. We scornfully laughed in that way guys laugh when we’ve dodged a bullet.

Update

Commenter PA wrote the following:

Half-seriously, how about this as the very last resort against a stalker chick, if leaving the country doesn’t work:

Tell her you are deeply in love with her, send her a new gushy Hallmark card every day, tell her that you see yourselves married, tell her that she’s special, call her at work about how she’s the most beautiful thing that ever walked into your life, and then break into sobs when you tell her that it’s been so long since you were touched when the two of you first made love…. and so on.

If nothing else, that oughta kill the stalker-love, no?

As I wrote in reply, this is the nuclear bomb of counterstalker tactics, and like with all weapons of mass destruction, you run a high risk of catching a lethal dose of fallout. *When* it works, it works perfectly. She will run to the hills. The problem is when it doesn’t work. If you’ve been an alpha for too long, you may have a hard time effectively simulating a lovesick beta. If it backfires, you are stuck with a stalker who is setting up a gift registry with Williams & Sonoma.

Two Conversations: Update

The answer to yesterday’s post:

The “do me in the ass” conversation was first. If she had said she was married first, I may or may not have proceeded with the dirty bang, but I would have thought a little less lowly of her. A married woman disenchanted with her husband, who lets you know up front she is about to cheat on him with you, is lying to just one man, instead of two. She would have at least given me the opportunity to decide for myself whether to facilitate her whoring.

Commenter Welmer captured the spirit of the moment perfectly:

She told him she was married second. Some women like surprising men with that crap. It’s kind of a power trip.

I had the distinct impression at the time as she was telling me what a bad person I would think she is once she revealed the truth about herself that she was indubitably relishing the high drama. I did not get the feeling she truly felt very bad about her cheating, or that she actually cared if I thought she was a bad person. Instead, she was sticking it to her beta husband, as well as to me (though of course if fucking a girl in the ass is akin to being used, then use me bitch). She was enjoying a power trip.

She was Russian.

Two Conversations, Same Girl, Same Day

Her: I have to tell you something.

Me: Oh man, here we go. What?

Her: It’s going to make me look bad. I’ll understand if you hate me after this.

Me: You’re a child molester?

Her: I’m married.

Me: [thinking about the last girl who forgot to mention she was married] Fucking great. Really?

Her: Yes, really. I’m a bad person.

*****************

Her: Would you like to do me in the ass?

Me: It’s funny how you ask so matter-of-factly. But, yeah, sure.

Her: Ow ow ow ow. Eeee.

*****************

Question for the studio audience: In what order did these two conversations happen?

This holiday season, we should all take time to remember that women

• have little sense of justice.
• perfected the art of amorality.
• like to be choked.

Merry Christmas!

Common Shit Tests

• I bet you have a girl for every night of the week.

This shit test, and permutations thereof (“How many girls do you pick up in bars?”), is something you’ll hear most often from younger girls who are used to having game run on them, but fall for it every time anyhow. These are the girls who secretly love that you’re a great seducer, and, ironically, want you to prove it by denying you’re a great seducer. Of course, it’s not as simple as that; the form of denial girls admire is evasion, not defensiveness. Possible answer: “I’m a romantic at heart. If some women are drawn to that, I can understand why.” Or you could try pseudo-redemption: “I used to be the biggest player, but that lifestyle doesn’t do it for me anymore. It’s part of my past, now.” The cocky, unserious answer: “One billion served!” Notice the common thread — you never really answer her question.

• You’re going to buy a girl a drink, right? That’s so sweet!

Alert the media! Girls don’t get attracted to men who buy them drinks! It’s a mystery to me why guys still do this; it seems to me the primal sort of man (think military, or Ibanker) is most likely to try to impress girls by lavishing goods on them. Nah, it’s just a common shit test girls throw out to see how needy you are. The faster you thrust a drink into her hand, the needier you will appear. Your answer: “I don’t buy drinks for girls I hardly know/I’m getting to know, but you can buy me one.”

• Are you always this big an asshole?

Context is important with this one. If you’ve been running tight game and her shiny eyes betray her lustful yearning, this shit test is basically a green light to continue being an asshole. Answer: “You can’t get enough of it.” Otherwise, eject. You fucked up.

• Hey, can we move the date/change the time? My cat yoga class is that night.

Sometimes this is a legitimate excuse. Most of the time, it’s not. If she agreed on a meeting time with you, she was aware of her schedule. Therefore, any last second changes by her should trigger your BS alarm. You’d be surprised how many girls instinctually default to this blatant shit test as the date approaches. They can’t help themselves. They’re programmed to behave like a flake to ensure your seed can jump their hurdles and land with a satisfying thud in their eggs. (I’ve found a helpful interpretation of courtship is to imagine your sperms are salmon swimming upstream against the torrent of bullshit she sends your way, including hungry bears.) Best answer: “I can meet you at X time, same place. If that’s no good for you, we can cancel.” Your goal is to instill the fear of loss in her, and let her know it’s her actions costing her the opportunity to bask for a few hours in your virile glory.

• You move pretty quick/I’m not that kind of girl.

This faux indignation isn’t as common as it used to be, mostly because the majority of city girls are sluts, and they know that we know this. To plead otherwise would be the height of absurd hypocrisy. It’s over ladies; your carefully tended modesty is a relic from a bygone era. If anything, the more testosterone-y variety DC lawyer/bartender chick will *brag* about her looseness. But since blissfully unaware retreads still exist, you should be prepared for this shit test. It’s critically important that you don’t fall into her trap and try to defend your “honor”. Best answer: Nothing. Ignore her protestations for what they are — decoy flares. Playful answer: “You should see my finishing move.”

• I love public sex/doing it upside down/kinky sex with ice cubes and strawberries.

It’s a trap! If you haven’t had sex with her yet, you should avoid getting too excited when she starts bragging about her sexual dynamism. She’s smoking you out of your burrow with a tasty treat. The faster you pounce on it, the quicker she pegs you as a sexually undernourished beta. Acceptable answer: “Whoa, not so fast. Do you talk like this with your mother?” Or: “That’s cool. But I need to be wined and dined first.” Cocky answer: “Hey, are you auditioning for the Maury Povich show?”

There will be future installments of “Common Shit Tests”.