Reader Dangerous posted a link to a woman’s take on the Alpha Male in writing; and a surprisingly genuine assessment at that. Recommended reading for anyone who deigns to stomach bubbly erotic feminine writing. It is undoubtedly for the very reason that the author is conceptualizing her take of masculinity through an erotic filter that it comes to be far more credible than your usual femspeak Alpha literature. The archives have already indicated the importance of paying attention to the deviant side of desire to more properly gauge interest; it is one of the few things that elude being counterfeited. A man cannot fake being attracted to a plumpy discipline of Mcdonalds just as a woman cannot fake being attracted to a house husband with a stamp collecting hobby.
As much as he worships me, Dominic needs to get a life. He needs hobbies and friends, and while I want to be his top priority because we still have an overpoweringfuckawesomelove, if he didn’t have or want the other stuff…he’d be a bit pathetic.Of course, he can still hold me down and screw me like he bought me at a slave auction…
I can see it already, flocks of unacquainted men mooning about the depths of secksuality. I like Morgan’s metaphorical illustrations; they blow up the perception of women held by inexperienced men, and still contrast sharply with the moderately enlightened views of game acolytes. And even in the higher circles of game, the razor-sharp and ubiquitous dominance preferred in men is absent in favor of sloppy frame control or inauthentic personalities. I suspect your average girl meets about 1 or 2 guys in every major cycle in her life (High-school ==> College ==> early 20s ==> Mid 20s ==> Late 20s ==> Pre-wall ==> Wall ==> Post-wall) who could pass off as a palpable Ice Cold Alpha Male. Assuming that same guy offers that courtesy to multiple women; how small do you think the Apex percentile is? The 1 or 2 guys she meets btw, doesn’t necessarily have a relationship or even a friendship with her. It only means she’s spoken to them, perhaps been officially introduced. Which leads us to another corollary; just as your average beta male can go through life without enjoying the genuine intimacy of a single woman, your average woman can go through life without as much as a Facebook poke from a genuine Alpha.
Gabe is the ultimate male: tall, defined muscles, cock of epic horse proportions, piercing eyes (they’re sometimes penetrating or smouldering, of course), dirty smile. He’ll have a token weakness such as his pet dog, or he’ll be strangely and conveniently good with my four year-old. Occasionally, I orgasm if he bats his eyelashes a few times in quick succession.
He’s just as glorious in bed; he favours missionary or doggy, where he can exert his horse erection to the point where it forces my cervix to disintegrate, and his cockhead eventually materialises in the Russian wilderness. This is appropriate because he has the intellect of an astronaut and the tenacity of a Soviet spy.
When he talks, it’s about sex (read: me), work or himself. He’s got a bedroom voice –ragged and heavy with lust — and a boardroom voice, which is calm, deep and measured. I know when I’ve really got under his skin because he mixes the two up (either that or he forgot to take his bipolar meds).
Men want to be Gabe and women want to fuck him, but he’s mine, all miiiiine! He’s an alpha, and alphas are best at everything; there’s nothing he can’t do (except, of course, control himself when it comes to me. Or admit that he’s being stubborn). He’s rich, and if he’s not famous — he’s infamous in all the right circles.
You’d think that somebody this perfect might be a bit smug. A bit annoying, perhaps. Or maybe he’s disgustingly modest. His sheer Godliness might even be a bit intimidating to a simple female like me
The finest distillation of Game by a girl yet, provided at the risk of giving all of you performance anxiety. My apologies in advance.
The transitioning alpha is a fascinating creature. For whatever reason, he’s realised that it is in his nature to lead and to be in control, and the shame of occupying the role that cunts usually inhabit is slipping away. He’s experimenting. He’s not quite sure of himself, and he’s not ashamed to admit that. He’s often quite young, too. He’s occasionally done as a clichÃ©d “my wife/girlfriend left me, so I’m not taking any more shit,” type — but it’s so much more than that. He’s not becoming something through deviant Darwinism: he’s embracing what was always there. Sometimes he’s revelling in his new experiences, and sometimes he’s fucking up, lead balloon style. Either way — I think he’s my favourite; fledgling arrogance, buoyant enthusiasm, ever teetering on the edge of control? Mmm. Yes please.
Why couldn’t we all evolve in flashes of white that spanned a few seconds like pokemon? The above presents a more relatable scenario; but more importantly, brings up the question of – is it ever over? Do you ever reach a finish line when you’re done with what you have to do? There’s no finish line, nor would you want there to be one. If you’re perfect, you have no where to go but down. Game presents itself in different phases:
Learning curve: Admitting your problem and not rationalizing your AFCness with a bunch of Disney trained responses. Getting unplugged. Figuring out that Edward Cullen really doesn’t have much game, etc.
Application: Applying what you learned in everything from relationships to lifestyle.
Internalization: Getting over that phase of over-analyzing the world around you and integrating what you’ve learned to the core of your personality.
Refining: Occasionally refreshing your understanding, sharpening your edge. When you’re here, no proactive steps must be taken. Your mind has somewhat reached a new belief system for itself and is grounded in its own reality. It would be just as difficult to remove yourself as you did when you were a beta; but may that not reduce your vigilance.
The alpha occupies a number of usual haunts: the business bad-ass has his office and plush hotel rooms; the Lord of the Manor has his study with the roaring fire and his dungeon with the shackles; the vampire has his somewhat bare and impersonal boudoir (usually filled with priceless antiques), or the alley around the back of Tesco’s. He’s not just made of flesh and teeth and questionable sexual practices: it’s about his space, his life, and the people and things he surrounds himself with.
What about those guys we don’t always think about as alphas, and the spaces they inhabit? The gamers at their tournaments, the emos at their gigs, the librarians (hello Giles!), the vicars, the drummers, the yoga guys, the scientists, the angels (proper angels, not just “nice boys” — although nice boys can make intriguing alphas too). Take that guy who you think doesn’t fit into the mould: warm him up. Get him pliable. Stuff him in. How’s he looking? Pretty damn good, huh?
Another relevant point here is that the traditional alpha is somewhat outdated and old fashioned (again, we see this played on a lot with vampires who have been around for centuries, or older Daddy/dom figures). What does it mean to be an alpha in the modern world, and how has he evolved?
I dare anyone to find a girl who says “he’s outdated” after introducing her to a proper Alpha who lives in a manor and has a dungeon with a dragon in shackles.
But her point is clear, Alpha is a flexible term. It’s a mindset, not just a schedule or list of accomplishments.
All too often, the alpha meets a sweet, innocent girl and sees the error of his ways. Last Friday? He was kicking it with the guys, scoping out the chicks (while secretly thinking how lame his friends were for enjoying such pastimes, since he’s better than that) and throwing a few beers/virgin nuns down his neck. This Friday? He’s going to Ikea with Bethany and then meeting her friends for dinner; sure, it’ll be awkward at first, but he’ll win them over in the end through his dry humour, evident love for Bethany and the fact that even her guy friends will secretly want to lick his shapely man-buttocks.
Hold up there.
Alphas like a challenge, right? So what the hell is he doing with Bethany, the pouty virgin who’s probably not going to let him near her asshole until they’re in the throes of a midlife crisis? (Contrary to popular belief, women do not relax all their inhibitions or preferences for the “right man”). Yeah, no guy has been good enough for her to bend her morals of steel — yet — but come on. Bethany lives in wait for her alpha. She’s the easiest catch going for this kind of guy.
You know who’d be a real challenge? Zara: the girl who is possibly slightly better than him at the office. The one who likes sex as much as he does, and is a lot more likely to want the things he wants in bed (and be experienced enough to be good at them). He’s a confident guy; he doesn’t need a girl who’s never had a lover before just to bolster his ego…does he? He can still “possess” her without being the only one ever to do so — in fact, so awesome is he, that all her previous lovers will pale into insignificance! Just because Zara dares to beat him at a few things, doesn’t mean that she’s dominant herself — she could make the ultimate sub. Now there’s a challenge. When you think about it, he could have a hell of a time with his equal in this respect.
Here we have a classic case of projection, an unfortunate mix up of facts. Because women like their men to be challenging they assume the same applies to the other side. Men prefer women who aren’t clingy but the “challenge” aspect is a bit dubious. If a girl’s too easy, she’s out of long-term potential. But if she’s too difficult, no man who could easily acquire a plethora of other options would sacrifice his time and energy in pursuing her to satiate his need for a challenge. The “Alpha males prefer challenging women” is a trope used to accomplish the opposite; to keep them IN the qualifying position with the idea that they prefer to be there themselves because it’s a challenge. Men are not hypergamous, it is not worth it for us to pursue an extremely difficult 9 over an easier 9; granted the latter still posed some degree of challenge and attractiveness.
The point also incorrectly assumes two things. First, that an “Alpha” would ever settle for Bethany in the first place, and turn into an emasculated beta bitch afterwards. Second, that both Bethany and Zara were of the same caliber. If one looked like she were a whale pumpkin harvested from Castlevania, an analysis of who the guy would choose and why could be simplified into a sentence or two.