Tuesday, 25 August 2015

A Definition of Zeta

Many, many moons ago I read a piece by Vox Day about how much of modern SF was basically wishy-washy wish-fulfilment crap. (Not his words, my conclusion after thinking about it.) He basically gave an overview of a piece of work and pointed out the "gamma tells" in it.

My personal preferences gravitate more to BoneCrkr's terminology. Gammas as being weak men, the Zetas.

Now, supposedly this book had a lot of "social verbiage success" (that's my personal way of saying someone talks a lotta shit, winning by verbally cutting someone down to size and tying them up in verbal knots). Which is funny in that that's how women act: the winner is the one who can bury her opponent under the biggest pile of verbal shit. Truth irrelevant.

Man tries that, he might end up with a brick to the head. As I said back on Personal Time and Space is Golden for Men:
How long do you think it would be before you made a fist, looked at him, and said something along the lines of: "Shut your fucking mouth. Open it again and I'll break your jaw." 
Or simply clocked him with a handy chunk of steel.
So verbal dexterity like this SJW wish-fulfilment crap is not exactly tolerated in the real world. I mean, the world of people who fight wars and dig oil outta the ground and move shit around in the world. You know the world I mean. The long chains of things that must be done to keep a civilisation going.

Not the world where this vital shit appears via magical-unicorns-and-rainbows-and-unicorns-that-shit-rainbows wimminz feelz.

Not the fantasyland where a subtle sneer and a slightly-condescending few phrases reduce an opponent to a cowed puddle. Where overblown posturing is sufficient to win the day. (And get the girl?)

Hold that thought.

Turn your cynical eye on some parts of the manosphere. Think about the feminist-style attacks, hatchet jobs, and similar upon others.

I'm not thinking simple disagreements. I'm thinking full-on tear downs and smear-campaigns.

Think what Uncle Bob might say: "The gaudier the patter, the cheaper the punk."

Have you ever been in a bar-brawl? Have you ever smashed a beer-bottle to give yourself a handy weapon?

Reflect. Who is the real Zeta? Who is the real weak-willed man?

Might it be ourselves? Hiding away here on the interwebz and spouting a ton of verbal crap, trying to delude ourselves as being socially relevant.

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  1. Hiding away here on the interwebz...
    From whom?

    1. Our own shadows.

      I should have made it clearer in the post, I'm not saying that we're all weak-willed men. Not at all. Like anything though, there's some bullshit out there somewhere, there's some weak-willed men attempting to pull the wool over our eyes.