“Retreat? Hell, we just got here!” — Capt. Lloyd W. Williams, USMC
The last eighteen months of my life were harder than anything I’ve ever been through. Tonight, I stopped being a bitch about things and went back out. I stopped fearing, doubting, and loathing. The world is full of all of those things.
Death will make you doubt.
As a man, it is your duty to lean into the uncomfortability and succeed. If there’s anything that is hurting you, do not hide from it.
Long is the way,
and hard, that out of hell leads up to light
- Paradise Lost, 4.432-433
I laid there in a haze of endorphins, testosterone, and oxytocin. Having done my woman well, I was shut off and floating downstream.
“Why don’t you tell me I’m pretty anymore?” she asked.
I opened my eyes and looked across the pillow to her. Apparently I hadn’t done her well enough.
“Of course you’re pretty. I just had sex with you. We’ve been dating for over a year! What more proof do you need?” Wrong answer.
I don’t remember the fight that ensued but I do know it was an awesome display of feminine darkness that I wasn’t at all prepared for. But I do remember how it ended.
“I’ll tell the cops you raped me!”
“But I didn’t rape you!”
“So what?”
She left. I picked up the phone and called my mother. I explained to her what had happened and I needed it to be on the record while it was fresh in my head. She was furious at me for having had pre-marital sex, but that’s a different story altogether.
What had just happened? Why would this girl that I loved, my best friend, behave like this? Why would she threaten to ruin my life? Girls didn’t do that! This one must be crazy! Women are inherently good! She’ll calm down. We’ll talk it through. Everything will be ok.
The adrenaline was pumping as I just typed that. The details are hazy but emotional memory is something I’m not short on. Never have been. I can still feel the fear, horror, shock, betrayal, anger. The dizziness that feeling it all at once induces.Later, she would leave me for another guy — by moving in with him whilst I was out of town. I’m not your girlfriend anymore, she would tell me.
But what sort of man gets to that point? What sort of man foregoes male friendship to become best friends with hisgirlfriend — not one of his fraternity brothers? A beta male, that’s who. A beta male is a guy who says “I won’t look at you naked unless you want me to,” when a hot Red Bull girl he’s on a date with tells him about the time she and her friends all got naked and took pictures of one another. A beta male is a guy who doesn’t go for the bang even though he’s got a 9 in his bed because he’s pedastalized her. That man was me.
That man was a beta male and I am ashamed of him.
That night my malignant betatude nearly cost me my future. I can think of examples too numerous to list in which being beta cost me a lay. But I wasn’t consistently beta. I slept with ten women before I took the red pill. That’s nearly three times the number the average guy will land in his entire lifetime. As I said, my emotional memory is strong. I remember how I felt in certain situations. Those situations that got me laid? I wasn’t being a beta. I was behaving in the natural manner of things. Beta males are not born, they are made. When I was being a beta, I was being a dutiful young servant of society. I was going to be a military officer, after all. When I wasn’t, I was behaving as my biology dictated.
I took the red pill in 2009. I was shown the rabbit hole but I didn’t hesitate. People were talking about things that I knew to be true my entire life but lived in denial about. As early as the third grade, I saw my teachers favoring the girls and shaming boys for their natural behavior. The first body of literature I was reading was the Men’s Rights side of things, particularly at The Spearhead and MGTOW but I wasn’t to enthralled with much of it because it was whiny. Then I found Roissy in DC, where I began reading about human socio-sexual dynamics. I read everything I could get my hands on. I even watched a bunch of David DeAngelo’s seminars (which aren’t all that bad).
I view the world through a completely different frame of reference now. Behaving as you were biologically programmed, knowing that the society and culture at large don’t give a fuck about you, knowing that they just want you to obey, and beating them at that game is one of the most fulfilling experiences in the world. If you could compare my behavior then versus my behavior now — absent of my appearance — you’d see two completely different men. The femcunts I work with are actually intimidated by me because they are so unfamiliar with unabashed masculinity that it scares them. They’ve only read about manliness in feminist theory textbooks. That amuses me to no end.
Taking the red pill is a choice. We can’t unplug young men at random because the sheer cognitive dissonance of biology versus cultural programming would literally give some a mental breakdown. But we can help them. Showing men the path doesn’t mean they will take it. Often times, they will refuse to. That’s when you should call them out for their beta male behavior, and here’s why:
The present point in Western culture is unique in all of the history of the world for one reason: by and large, there is no initiation rite, no trial by fire, for young men to undergo as a passage to manhood. These things are now criminalized. Fraternity Hazing? Illegal. Bullying? Shameful and soon to be illegal. Short of joining the military, young men are not taught to be men, and even military basic training is becoming feminized. Recruits can call a “time out” if they feel it’s too difficult. Shame is quite unfortunately the only tool available. If you should see a man be a beta — if you should see a man be a white knight — you will tell him what a gigantic pussy he is.
Above all, the red pill is about recovering genuine masculinity from the depravity of a progressive society, because “history is strewn with the wrecks of nations which have gained a little progressiveness at the cost of a great deal of hard manliness.”[1]
