BC Incel Thread

[Zeeshan]

Hi everyone.

I am 35. And I think I might be an incel. I can never get laid. Possibly because I am not physically attractive. Most likely actually. I HATE brushing my teeth first thing in the morning!!! Women avoids me. Which I respect. I hate to violate their privacy by gawking at their eyes. Women shouldn't be treated as sexual objects but revered and we need to lower our gazes.

We also need to show proper respect by lying and saying how fat her butt doesn't look in her skirt.

I don't like to exercise. It is for people with low intellectual ability. Also I think I will never get laid and die a virgin. Which is of course shame in modern day and age of America. Where are my rights? Where are my rights for Chirst's sakes!! I demand in nasal twang.

Also women need to be more superior than us and deserves better. They really do since they have been subjugated for too long. So I wouldn't object should I get married if some attractive handsome guy wants to take her away for one night. It's her right for fudge sake.

I just really..I mean like you know like I kinda like hate the fact that I can't touch someone's boobies - ie without brushing past in her in a concert line. It is absolutely unacceptable.

I feel bitter sometimes. Very resentful. I just...I dunno... I just think life isn't fair man. Bleh. I mean why should all the beefed up jerks will get the gals in club when they treat women like dirtbag. You call this fair?

[DinRaat.]

Grab your chest, and squeeze bothsides and there you have it you have touched boobies.
Sometimes my brilliance amazes me.

[Yankees]

^^Ditto if you want to grab some booty.

[Zeeshan]

Thing is maybe we need to accept it. It wasn't meant to be. I mean it's not as if when I step into a club a busty, blonde white chick on stiletto and slutty dress will go for me. She will obviously go for the 6'4" built white college jock.

Guess I just to have to accept it. This is evolution in fullest flow. Maybe we short, diminutive brown people with poor eyesight were meant to be at the bottom of the pecking order and serve these folks just so they can go ahead to Mars and colonize and we stay back in this planet before asteroid destroys us.

I am not saying I am in denial but there are some things you cannot change. We were dealt with a bad hand and we were meant to be like this with our trusty left hand.

I think it is better I should just accept it. I know I know... it will take time. Sorry.. Yeah Yeah yeah I know sorry. I apologize but yes it will take time.

I also apologize for stating I am an incel when I should perhaps may be aptly called "currycel" no?\\

There’s an even lesser-known subset of incels — men from India, Pakistan, Bangladesh and Nepal, but mostly second-generation Indian-Americans — who they call themselves ‘currycels’. While incels refer to women as ‘femoids’ believing that they are pre-programmed to choose mates by looks alone, currycels add a deep insecurity about race to their violent misogyny.

https://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/...w/64479774.cms

[Zeeshan]

And most people thinks we incels just like hating and blaming women. Well it's a nuanced sport. And we must also remember not all beta males are incels but all incels are beta males. Sorry for posting right after myself. I apologize.

[aklemalp]

Naive me don't know what 'incel' means...


Turns to the urban dictionary to get the most realest defintion...

Reaction:

[Yankees]

Originally Posted by Zeeshan
I also apologize for stating I am an incel when I should perhaps may be aptly called "currycel" no?\\

Them Sri Lankans are just macking it, huh? Impressive.

Anyways, us beta males really hate incels. Step your game up, ugh.

[mufi_02]

Originally Posted by Yankees
Them Sri Lankans are just macking it, huh? Impressive.

Anyways, us beta males really hate incels. Step your game up, ugh.

so whats the hierarchy --

alpha, beta, gamma, incel?

I thought you and idumb would be alphas haha.

[aklemalp]

I gathered from Zeeshan's earlier post that if you are not an alpha, then you must be an incel.

[Yankees]

Originally Posted by mufi_02
so whats the hierarchy --

alpha, beta, gamma, incel?

I thought you and idumb would be alphas haha.

There is a strict rule that alphas must max out their 401k and yell at everyone else about it. I don't know, Zee would know more about that. Say Zee bhai, do incels ever over-compensate by being braggadocios over financial aspects of their lives or some such?

As for hierarchy, it goes alpha, beta, gamma, sigma (standard guys who don't deviate much - thats a math joke for you engineering dweebs), butch lesbians, incel, currycel, duracell.

[Zeeshan]

^^ Yeah I kinda like not getting in the middle of a shoot-out.

[Zeeshan]

Originally Posted by aklemalp
I gathered from Zeeshan's earlier post that if you are not an alpha, then you must be an incel.

A real alpha doesn't pompously tout he is a alpha. So you got me buddy. The fact that I somehow think I am superior than 90% of the BC -who must be either glass wearing, scrawny, diminutive nerdy guys and beta male who never takes care of their bodies (which, sadly, is true though... LOL!) - shows that I am no where near that level and I got lot to learn.

A self-actualized man has nothing to prove. He leads by action. He doesn't look down upon his fellow mates.

A leader protects his species and in the book again and again it has been hammered a leader leads by following. (Something which our dear mods can follow if you will allow me for one customary jab and cheap shot...wink wink. Heck only true leaders in the forum are RS and Nasif imo.) A leader is always a problem solver and unites and doesn't polarize. He has the best interest of his pack always in his mind.

Forget Bangladesh, not even in America people adhere to this concept and is all about macho, egoistical chest thumping.

For what its worth here is an excellent book on leadership.

[Zeeshan]

There is also the concept of 'Grey Man' which is far more superior than the alphas. One World and Rabeed Imam comes to mind to name two. (Anyone watched Den of Thieves here? Two alphas pitted against each other.)

https://www.google.ca/search?q=grey+...hrome&ie=UTF-8

[aklemalp]

Magnetic Spin Quantum Number:

Spin up ⬆- alpha

Spin down ⬇- beta

[Zeeshan]

Do you guys know your incel vocabularies?



https://www.timsquirrell.com/blog/20...and-vocabulary

[aklemalp]

Beta

A man who is not "alpha". They lack charisma and shy away from confrontation. The words come from biology, where they're used to describe wolves, among other animals. They've been misapplied to humans for a while, most prominently by Men's Rights Activists and Pick-up Artists. Some incels identify as "omega" males, implying they are below even the betas.

So on the subject of omega...does it have a dual meaning? Rather ambiguous/.

[ToBeFair]

Biggest example of beta: (Lyin') Ted Cruz.

Trump insulted Cruz's wife and dad, and in return, he phone banked for Trump, wrote this @$$ kissing piece, and now begging the President to campaign for him in Texas.

BTW, don't derail this thread to politics now. Limit your discussion to alpha, beta, incel.

[Yankees]

Originally Posted by ToBeFair
Biggest example of beta: (Lyin') Ted Cruz.

Trump insulted Cruz's wife and dad, and in return, he phone banked for Trump, wrote this @$$ kissing piece, and now begging the President to campaign for him in Texas.

BTW, don't derail this thread to politics now. Limit your discussion to alpha, beta, incel.

Best thing about Trump presidency is that it effectively knocked out Cruz for 8 years. Anyways, don't bring such useless topics to this important thread.

[Zeeshan]

Originally Posted by Yankees
Best thing about Trump presidency is that it effectively knocked out Cruz for 8 years. Anyways, don't bring such useless topics to this important thread.

I don't think it was quite an useless reference. Amra to aaar robot na...

I found it quite bit amusing and didn't know that. Although Trump is not "pure" Alpha lol... he is like Tony Montana. He will drag everyone down and expose their dark side.

Or is he? He shrugs off dandruff of Macaroni, manhandles people and slams handshake over someone dominantly, invades personal space and touches people inappropriately... he may be deemed Alpha in the 'chimp' level - where primal nature and aggressiveness supersedes, but not in "human" terms.

As human an alpha needs to be assertive not aggressive. Diplomatic. Courteous. Intelligent. Soft but firm with polite approach. And yes, someone like Vettori who wears glasses and carries himself like a man and let's his ball do the talking - okay that sounded gross- can lead a team full of faux alphas of Oram and Mills.

Sorry. Didn't mean to derail it to Trump. (Can't keep him out can we? lol) My angle of interest was solely from the perspectives of a hierarchy.

And also alpha males tend to wait for alpha females instead of settling for less like beta cucks. lol

Fictional case in point Mr and Mrs Smith were both were alphas or Wanted where although Jolie was the alpha female Macavoy's character built up to it and transformed himself from a cuck.

Sometimes a 'real' alpha is hidden. A 'real' alpha is grey. Invisible. Find him from the story below:

A turning point came in my life one day on a train in the suburbs of Tokyo, in the middle of a drowsy spring afternoon. The old car clanked and rattled over the rails. It was comparatively empty—a few housewives with their kids in tow, some old folks out shopping, a couple of off-duty bartenders studying the racing form. I gazed absently at the drab houses and dusty hedgerows.

At one station the doors opened, and suddenly the quiet afternoon was shattered by a man bellowing at the top of his lungs, yelling violent, obscene, incomprehensible curses. Just as the doors closed, the man still yelling, staggered into our car. He was big, drunk and dirty. He wore laborer’s clothing. His front was stiff with dried vomit. His eyes bugged out, a demonic, neon red. His hair was crusted with filth. Screaming, he swung at the first person he saw, a woman holding a baby. The blow glanced off her shoulder, sending her spinning into the laps of an elderly couple. It was a miracle that the baby was unharmed.

The couple jumped up and scrambled toward the other end of the car. They were terrified. The laborer aimed a kick at the retreating back of the old lady. “YOU OLD WHORE !” he bellowed, ‘I’LL KICK YOUR ***!” He missed, the old woman scuttled to safety. This so enraged the drunk that he grabbed the metal pole in the center of the car, and tried to wrench it out of its stanchion. I could see that one of his hands was cut and bleeding. The train lurched ahead, the passengers frozen with fear. I stood up.

I was young and in pretty good shape. I stood six feet, and weighed 225. I’d been putting in a solid eight hours of Aikido training every day for the past three years. I liked to throw and grapple. I thought I was tough. Trouble was my martial skill was untested in actual combat. As students of Aikido, we were not allowed to fight.

My teacher, the founder of Aikido, taught us each morning that the art was devoted to peace. “Aikido,” he said again and again, “is the art of reconciliation. Whoever has the mind to fight has broken his connection with the universe. If you try to dominate other people, you are already defeated. We study how to resolve conflict, not how to start it.”

I listened to his words. I tried hard. I wanted to quit fighting. I even went so far as to cross the street a few times to avoid the chimpira, the pinball punks who lounged around the train stations. They’d have been happy to test my martial ability. My forbearance exalted me. I felt both tough and holy. In my heart of hearts, however, I was dying to be a hero. I wanted a chance, an absolutely legitimate opportunity whereby I might save the innocent by destroying the guilty.

“This is it!” I said to myself as I got to my feet. : This slob, this animal, is drunk and mean and violent. People are in danger. If I don’t do something fast, somebody will probably get hurt. I’m gonna take his *** to the cleaners.”

Seeing me stand up, the drunk saw a chance to focus his rage. “AHA!” he roared, “A FOREIGNER! YOU NEED A LESSON IN JAPANESE MANNERS!” He punched the metal pole once to give weight to his words.

I held on lightly to the commuter-strap overhead. I gave him a slow look of disgust and dismissal. I gave him every bit of piss-ant nastiness I could summon up. I planned to take this turkey apart, but he had to be the one to move first. And I wanted him mad, because the madder he got the more certain my victory. I pursed my lips and blew him a sneering, insolent kiss. It hit him like a slap in the face. “ALL RIGHT! he hollered, “YOUR GONNA GET A LESSON.” He gathered himself for a rush at me. He’d never know what hit him.

A split-second before he moved, someone shouted “HEY!” It was ear splitting. I remember being hit by the strangely joyous, lilting quality of it--- as though you and a friend had been searching diligently for something, and he had suddenly stumbled upon it. “HEY!”

I wheeled to my left, the drunk spun to his right. We both stared down at a little old Japanese. He must have been well into his seventies, this tiny gentleman, sitting there immaculate in his kimono and hakama. He took no notice of me, but beamed delightedly at the laborer, as though he had a most important, most welcome secret to share. “C’mere,” the old man said in an easy vernacular, beckoning to the drunk, “C’mere and talk with me.” He waved his hand lightly. The big man followed, as if on a string. He planted his feet belligerently in front of the old gentleman, and towered threateningly over him. “TALK TO YOU,” he roared above the clacking wheels, “WHY THE HELL SHOULD I TALK TO YOU ?” The drunk now had his back to me. If his elbows moved so much as a millimeter, I’d drop him in his socks.

The old man continued to beam at the laborer. There was not a trace of fear or resentment about him. “What’cha been drinking?” he asked lightly, his eyes sparkling with interest. “I BEEN DRINKING SAKE,” the laborer bellowed back, “AND IT’S NONE OF YOUR GODDAM BUSINESS!” Flecks of spittle spattered the old man.

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” the old man said with delight, “absolutely wonderful! You see, I love sake too. Every night, me and my wife (she’s 76, you know), we warm up a little bottle of sake and take it out into the garden, and we sit on the old wooden bench that my grandfather’s first student made for him. We watch the sun go down, and we look to see how our persimmon tree is doing. My grandfather planted that tree, you know, and we worry about whether it will recover from those ice-storms we had last winter. Persimmons do not do well after ice-storms, although I must say that ours has done rather better than I expected, especially when you consider the poor quality of the soil. Still, it most gratifying to watch when we take our sake and go out to enjoy the evening—even when it rains!” He looked up at the laborer, eyes twinkling, happy to share his delightful information.

As he struggled to follow the intricacies of the old man’s conversation, the drunk’s face began to soften. His fists slowly unclenched. “Yeah,” he said slowly, “I love persimmons, too… His voice trailed off. “Yes”, said the old man, smiling, “and I’m sure you have a wonderful wife.”

“No,” replied the laborer, “My wife died.” He hung his head. Very gently, swaying with the motion of the train, the big man began to sob. “I don’t got no wife, I don’t got no home, I don’t got no job, I don’t got no money, I don’t got nowhere to go. I’m so ashamed of myself.” Tears rolled down his cheeks, a spasm of pure despair rippled through his body. Above the baggage rack a four-color ad trumpeted the virtues of suburban luxury living.

Now it was my turn. Standing there in my well-scrubbed youthful innocence, my make- this- world-safe-for- democracy righteousness, I suddenly felt dirtier than he was.

Just then, the train arrived at my stop. The platform was packed, and the crowd surged into the car as soon the doors opened. Maneuvering my way out, I heard the old man cluck sympathetically. “My, My,” he said with undiminished delight, “that is a very difficult predicament, indeed. Sit down here and tell me about it.”

I turned my head for one last look. The laborer was sprawled like a sack on the seat, his head in the old man’s lap. The old man looked down at him with compassion and delight, one hand stroking the filthy, matted head.

As the train pulled away, I sat down on a bench. What I had wanted to do with muscle and meanness had been accomplished with a few kind words. I had seen Aikido tried in combat, and the essence of it was love, as the founder had said. I would have to practice the art with an entirely different spirit. It would be a long time before I could speak about the resolution of conflict.

__

Terry Dobson, holder of a fourth degree black belt in Aikido, has worked with conflict resolution for 20 years, and now conducts seminars called “When Push Comes to Shove” for business executives

http://easternhealingarts.com/Articles/softanswer.html

[Zeeshan]

I didn't snip the article and posted in its entirety. Hope it is okay. ^^