Part of being plugged into the matrix is buying into the ludicrous myth that working in an office making $40,000/year with benefits and a 401K with stock options is the path to financial solvency and subsequently a happy life. To be fair, there are parts of this have some measure of truth but one of the biggest reasons we relentlessly pursue careers in a fancy building is to impress the ladies.
There’s little doubt that there is a certain sophistication and status that comes with wearing a shirt and tie to work Monday through Friday for 40 hours a week. Truth is women do look favorably on men who are well-dressed on a regular basis. Most women drool over men in uniform but most of that sex appeal is the stability that uniform represents. A man in a suit is in his uniform and boy is it ever the pussy magnet. Proof of this can be seen on weekday mornings in any coffee shop across the West. Baristas in every corner the Anglo sphere shamelessly flirt with men in suits every morning because the Beta Bux side of her hypergamy is directly engaged.
However, there is a terrible price to be paid for selling your soul to the office devil: your balls. Outside of a few law firms and a hand full specialty or auxiliary office environments, the typical Western office job is a soul sucking, testosterone draining cesspool masquerading as the best way to earn a living. Now that females make up most of the work force, feminist laden agendas and rules have made the work place a source of anxiety for men. The mentally draining monotony of their work is pressure enough without the long arm of girl power friendly regulations to keep them in line. Gone are the days of male dominated offices where the presence of a female was only needed to answer the phone, make the coffee, look pretty for visiting clients, and fuck the boss if his day was particularly stressful.
A few hours in an average cubicle farm is enough to depress even the most crimson of red pill alphas. The men look defeated and are uncomfortably twitchy, the women are overweight and overconfident, and the smell of the bad coffee serving as the backdrop is the icing on the cake. Yet despite all of the evident deterrents, men fall all over themselves trying to land one of these precious positions. Unbeknownst to them they’re merely enrolling in the finishing school known as The University of Beta for their Masters Degree in Pussification.
When Western men graduate from college they are an unfinished product—an undistinguishable wooden figure pre-treated by feminine conditioning and ready for refinement. They enter the woodman’s shop with dreams of promotions, power lunches, and the keys to pussy paradise. They know that with hard work, dedication, and playing by the rules they’ll be up to their eye balls in beautiful young women fighting each other for their hand in marriage.
The first step in the beta refinement process begins by making them as physically unattractive as possible. Making them sit for 8 hours a day is just the beginning of their new found sedentary life style—a far cry from college life. Intramural softball and ultimate frisbee made it relatively easy to stay in shape on campus but the most exercise they’ll ever get in an office is the occasional bathroom break and a few trips to the vending machine for an energy drink loaded with sugar which will surely add to their expanding waist lines.
As if sitting on their asses all day isn’t bad enough, most hum drum offices employ dress codes that discourage males from exhibiting any kind of individuality. While women can wear pretty much whatever they want, men are often restricted to wearing khakis or slacks and prohibited from wearing shirts in colors that are out of the ordinary or “loud”—code for “anything other than white or taupe.”
Now before women reading this and start yammering about the faux dress code for women in the new hire packet, we all know it’s almost never enforced. You and your fellow cubicle cows wouldn’t make a daily habit of vindictively whispering about Ashley’s revealing outfits if the human resources heffer stopped taking cigarette breaks every 15 minutes and actually did her job.
Along with allowing women to check their Facebook statuses and talk on their phones at their desks (or anything else not pertaining to being a productive employee), this further drills the idea into the mind of men that women can do whatever they want, whenever they want, without repercussions or accountability simply because they’re born with vaginas.
So now that the rough edges of our fledgling betas have been carefully sanded and smoothed out, it’s time for the next step.
The betapalooza known as the common American office is rife with badly dressed men with high pitched voices and bad ties. There’s also no shortage of overweight, unattractive women prancing around as if they’re at the top of the sexual food chain. Having worked in these hell holes myself, I’d say that 95% to 99% of the average female office worker falls between a 0 and a 6/10. Sure there’s the occasional 7 and the even rarer 8 but they’re few and far between and wouldn’t be caught dead socializing with a beta other than to get ahead or manipulate some sort of favor or favoritism.
Unfortunately this makes the 5s and 6s the crown jewels of the office work force. The newly sanded beta is exposed to these subpar, mediocre fatties hour after hour, day after day, year after year. After a while they actually believe that these portly princesses are the cream of the crop. Eventually their mindset is stained with the false reality that fleshy office broads are as good as it gets. Every so often they’ll attempt to throw terrible game at Ashley but they’ll fall on their faces because they’re unable to give her the tingles like the unemployed guitar player she’s banging.
This is a harsh reality for men after being fed the Disney dream their entire adolescent lives. A man’s natural ability to adapt to his circumstances (however bad they may be) works against him in this case because his mind tells him that he must eat shit, pretend it’s caviar by calling it and treating it as such, and like it. The result is an entire generation of males who have accepted the fact that their world is only inhabited by two kinds of women: the desirable ones impossible to win over with the faulty tools they’ve been given and the beefy ones who require expensive dinners and gifts before giving them the privilege of seeing their unsightly naked bodies. This is the very point where feminists have men right where they want them.
Into the kiln the beta goes to permanently harden the principles instilled in him. The meeting room is the perfect place for this procedure and an office job provides plenty of opportunities. The endless meetings are enough to drive a man insane. There are meetings, meetings about meetings, and more meetings after that. That familiar sigh that makes its way from cubicle to cubicle when that delightful reminder pops up on his screen is the sound of men knowing that they are going to be, yet again, subjected to the hot box known as the meeting room.
The proverbial heat is turned on the moment they walk in and take their seats. Any man who walks in and happens to be in relatively good shape in is subjected to just a little more sanding as meetings are often catered with foods like doughnuts, soda, chips, and a number of other salty, sugary goodies specifically designed to smooth out any remnants of coarse surfaces. Employees are expected to sit, take notes, and not speak unless spoken to or given permission when their superiors see their hand raised like a kindergartener.
Worse yet is that men can’t even look at women in the eye (or in their general direction) unless they are addressing them. Even then they might be labeled creepy if they hold eye contact for a fraction of a second too long. Meetings are the ideal environment to solidify the notion that men are the buffet and women are the diners. Step out of place or do anything to attempt to make yourself different or attractive during a meeting (or anytime between 8 and 5 for that matter) and there will be consequences “up to and including termination”. This fear tamps down a man’s testosterone driven intentions and over the course of time, passive beta behavior becomes who they are. The kiln has done its job.
The final process in manufacturing a beta male is the all powerful Human Resources department. Provocative statements and covert flirting have given way to political correctness and double standard laden, loosely defined sexual harassment claims. One of the many traits that makes a man a man is his ability to clearly communicate what he thinks in a way that leaves little doubt as to what his intentions or ideas are. Another is his desire and ability to take what he wants when he sees it. Neither of these is allowed in a Western office. Want to spit red pill truth to your office buddies about the differences between men and women? Prepare for a summons from the heffer’s office if you’re within earshot of hefty Heather. Want to ask that hottie in accounting what her plans are this evening? Be ready for an email from HR.
The bottom line is that human resources only seems to exist to make men afraid of being men. Even the male members of management are at the mercy of HR. If they don’t adhere to the female friendly bylaws or act as though the world is coming to an end when a woman is “offended” they too are out the door. The fact that most human resources departments are made up of women further cultivates the fear that men have of women in the work place which inevitably spills over into their lives outside of normal business hours. Think of someone you know or have met who’s terrible at talking to women. Chances are he’s working at Pick-A-Name Corporation in Suite 300 of the McTower Building downtown.
Our fresh batch of betas are now a finished product. They’ve been buffed to a shine and ready to be at the beck and call of vapid fatties everywhere.
Is there a cure?
Learning a new language and moving abroad or starting an internet business to become location independent are a couple of viable solutions that have been utilized by many a former beta. But short of learning like Neo or your web company going public overnight, this is going to take time. So what’s a man to do in the meantime?
One of the quickest and most effective ways to get out of and reverse the damage of the cubicle is to work a blue collar job. Drive a forklift, work construction, be a mechanic or any of the numerous trades that are not only free of feminist inspired regulations, but serve as the last frontier where a man can truly be himself. You’ll find it liberating to be able to talk about the apple shaped ass of that Hooters waitress or about how your buddy got divorce raped by his land whale of an ex wife. No conversation is off limits and over time you’ll begin to notice your increasing wittiness and decisiveness in your daily conversations with men and women. You’ll begin to sound more like a man.
Your sex life will also improve as a result of your new physically demanding job. The woman in your life will be sexually reenergized as your physique transforms from the pear shaped softy you were into the rugged mountain man she has rape fantasies about. She’ll be more than willing give you consistent welcome home blow jobs when she sees you kick off your dirty work boots as opposed to your overpriced dress shoes.
There are many, many more advantages of getting off your ass and actually working for a living and I encourage readers to add them. You may not make as much money starting out but the benefits are something you cannot put a price on. Not the least of which is finally dropping out Beta College and getting your balls back.
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