Odd Paradigm

It would seem to me that the natural outgrowth of our age of Dating by Catalogue is the expectation that all heterosexual men and women can be neatly viewed through paradigms. Paradigms are like hammers. When you have one, everything looks like a nail.

Whereas the LGBTuvwxyz crowd would appear to be continuously inventing new sexual paradigms such as to supposedly be “the paradigm” of sexual persona originality. Yet, since it is dominated so by The Left is pretty well consistently anti-masculinity in rhetoric except homosexual masculinity. Meanwhile, the heterosexual crowd would seem to be trending more conservatively, such as to expel odd men and odd women out, as a reaction to a society gone haywire in many respects.

Likely as not, I am to be a casualty of this trend. It is probably just deserts for being born at the tail end of the Baby Boom, presuming that the Baby Boomers that preceded me were trailblazing a better way of living, and then me missing the bus when they all settled down into their own new paradigms.

I predicted this phenomenon of course as a young person, seeing that eventually women of my near demographic would well overwhelm those few men surviving with their testicles intact.

Naturally, such men pretty well dictate the acceptable paradigms that a woman like me must adopt if I desire more face time than that afforded by a “hook-up” and even then, the standards are his, even if he flags “submissive,” or otherwise in a supplicant role to women. His “Dominance,” or “submission,” is entirely on his own terms such that if I don’t like it then I am a problem not a challenge. I suppose if I were such a man, I would be doing the same thing.

Regardless of what I decide to do with my life going forward, I am probably going to have to adopt a new sexual persona, or choose celibacy or near-celibacy plus time-share, at least until an available maverick can be identified. This realization is becoming clearer to me all the time. How that former option would be achieved is a mystery thus far. Do I have some sort of a choice as to what arouses me? Or am I expected to behave like a Charitable Whore such as to have my “arousal” be dictated by the needs of the client? Meanwhile, what sort of man would choose a woman so clearly etched with intense experiences and then try to remake her such as to fit into the paradigm he has devised for women in his life? Wouldn’t a younger woman be a whole lot less trouble for greater reward (at least until she flips out and chooses the state ideologies instead)?

The only thing that I can come up with would be a Dominant man undergoing a similar seismic shift in his persona as mine such as to be a bit more flexible in terms of what he expects from women, to include the possibility that not all women are alike, and that he would personally benefit from such a transformation within himself.

It so happens that is exactly what I believe and that’s my life pattern which I’ve adopted and which usually results in some sort of mutually satisfying experience. Of course, I could be hopelessly deluded and behind the times. Nevertheless, by my track record alone, I believe that I set myself apart from most propaganda-addled women in terms of my forthcoming nature, honesty, and clarity in terms of who I am, in person; even if my story doesn’t reach a receptive audience in the overly paradigm-invested, or requires patience and repetition to fully grasp, to even include some missteps along the way.

The notion of switching my persona into a sort of media-promoted archetype, or other sort of object of worship or degradation that it would seem that the majority of men demand that I be is not something I can wrap my head around just yet, particularly in an anti-feminist perspective. That said, of course, we all possess a degree of duality, such as in terms of masculinity/femininity, rationality/irrationality, adult/child, growth/regression, etc.

The other notion that I’ve been knocking around in my head for quite some time is that it is entirely possible that sexual desire for most people includes the violation or reformation of the boundaries of the other person in some way. Perhaps even myself, with the temerity to not be a cookie-cutter “brat,” “SAM,” “baby-girl,” or “slave” as viewed through the Liberal Feminist paradigm, manufactures the expectation of transformation of the men of my acquaintance. Perhaps my romantic objectives would be better served to stop being clear about who I am, what I have experienced, and what I offer, but rather to pursue seductive mystique, deception, and nuance such as to appear to transform such as to fit the man of my desire’s paradigms.

That sounds like a whole lot of work!

Of course it is also true that I am already somewhat deceptive as a self-preservation strategy. I suppose one could say that my expectation of actually getting to know a man before I reveal all such as to make myself extra-vulnerable to him is its own delusion at my age. Nowadays, it would seem, men expect their women to come provided with either user manuals or to flag themselves by easily-identified paradigm. My notions that such revelations ought to wait until at least the third date presupposes that I even have the right to call such shots being a member of the larger, wealthier, and more politically powerful demographic known as White Western Upper Middle Class Woman, but yet not actually having such wealth anymore, and otherwise not having a whole lot of market value therein other than my distinctive views, useful skills, and relative physical preservation.

Try as I might however, I am just not all that forthcoming to strangers. I’ve had enough punishments and other forms of Behavioral Conditioning that predispose me to some degree of circumspection, not possible to fully penetrate by mere online interaction, or even phone calls, which, I positively despise.

The only thing that makes a self-exposure even the least bit worthwhile is to be in the man’s presence such that I can gauge his reactions to my revelations by his facial expressions and body language. Otherwise, I feel like I might as well just produce some sort of brochure or multimedia presentation and give it to him. To make it somehow interactive such that he can ask it questions and in turn it produces canned responses like some sort of intelligent search engine or Max Headroom would make it even more useful. Of course, should a man have an irrational or emotional response to the creature, then he can buy it or rent it and leave me out of the whole business, thanks.

There would be no danger of cracking the paradigm for women he demands because such does not require him to change in the least and why should he?

He wouldn’t have to suffer through my paleoconservative/libertarian/universal secessionist views, my cigar smoke/tobacco advocacy/anti-health-nannyism, my anti-feminism/anti-gynocracy/Denier-ism, nor the damage manifested from my experiences with brainwashing, etc. Rather, he need only concern himself with my sexually responsive body, my seductive moves, and my sexual talents. Given that he would be availing himself of such a package, surely he cannot expect me to cook and keep house for him too. Rather, either sending me home or expecting me to provide him a full-service hotel would be the only arrangement that would make sense to such a man. Not only is there no need to “own” me or otherwise have any input into my maintenance, but even “renting” me is too much trouble when he calls the tune.

These complaints that I express here are as far as I can see the natural result of the regression of both men and women in subservience to The State. My failure to accept blame myself for these conditions does not mean that I won’t have to suffer through them or otherwise take my lumps, until or if I can manage a way to “opt out” permanently.

I certainly hope that there are men out there like me in these respects, not entirely damaged yet like me, willing to go down swinging, with me at his side (albeit in his shadow) as opposed to in some sort of opposition.

6 thoughts on “Odd Paradigm

  1. Pingback: Odd Paradigm | Manosphere.com

  2. When I see someone in the midst of making a categorization decision I always reflexively think in commercial terms. Granted not all decisions can be reduced to Category A at price Y type of formulations. But it’s useful at least as a mental exercise.

    When the embargo on Cuban cigars occurred it sent shock-waves through the cigar industry in the US. It was bad that you could not get Habanos but even worse you could not even get Cuban tobacco for house cigars. Dark times Dark times.

    Some squirreled away a few Cuban boxes but even they at some point had to wander back into the Cigar Store humidor and procure replacements. It was not a good scene, shelves denuded of premium brands, unfamiliar Mexican crap cigars, under-aged Dominican cigars … I understand it was a nightmare. In fact I would say the cigar industry did not recover until the 1990s when the Cuban seeded Nicaraguans and Dominican variety tobacco crops properly aged… but that’s another story.

    When these hardy souls went shopping in the post embargo world they of course entered the Humidor wanting the best fit replacement. But unfortunately there were none. No Cigars that were left were even close to the product quality, tobacco prep, or construction of the Cubans. It was terrible. So a few gave up Cigars all together. A few “smoked a few crap cigars” until they found a tolerable replacement. A few hand rolled or snuck in a few “airport” Cubans. I hear Miami was a good place to get these bootlegged Cigars. Anyway in the end all Cigar smokers had to determine what was non-negotiable in a cigar experience and what was a nice to have… because the salad days were over for good.

    As I understand it most stayed in the cigar lounges of the 70s and 80s due to the camaraderie of the lounges. I mean it was not because the cheap Mexican cigars with their dry woody taste were anything to write home about. No it was because even though it was a sub par cigar experience it was still a great social experience. And besides if you were a regular “someone” would magically come in with a few Cubans they “found” somewhere. In other words they stayed. Like a fan of a long suffering team in a win drought they stayed. And as the 1990s dawned they saw a great resurgence in their hobby. And when cigars became the “in” thing again they could look at the other long timers and grin with that knowing sparkle.

    • Ah the nineties! That was my peak flirt era, until the anti-tobacco legislation hit in stages in California, culminating in smoke free bars. Men did seem as if the cigar party was a revelation during those days and exhibited a masculinity-friendly camaraderie which was a new and relatively unfamiliar thing for me except for, say Frank Sinatra movies, and I embraced it.

      It was as if I was raised in a neo-Puritan dichotomy which has since resurfaced now that tobacco enthusiasts are persona non grata as a rule. Sexually promiscuous misandry however would seem to alternate with flirtatious tobacco-friendliness by era. The apparent paradox is starting to clear up in my observation in that the latter era is plenty seductive because it doesn’t just let it all hang out, thereby being more “merit based” rather than a false “democracy” of sexual choices.

      Other places to obtain fine cigars to include Dutch cigars were/are Aruba and Amsterdam.

  3. Cigar versus cigarettes. It’s the difference between those who savor fine cognac and those who swig Listerine/Aqua Velva. One is a choice (a classy choice), the other a terrible compulsion.

    There is nothing worse than having three cigarettes left in the pack at 10:33 pm. Your choices: a) make those cigarettes last the the night, or b) boot on down to the 7-11 during peak wigger time to score another pack.

    • In fairness, it is perfectly possible to smoke a good cigarette even if more than likely such a cigarette is hand rolled. I keep some well-aged tobacco around so as to do just that for a guest so as to keep him from having to run out and degrade himself at some 7-11.

      • Such a good hostess. You clearly understand the necessity and the gratification of making guests comfortable. To you, dear C…….(((( Ein Prosit!))))

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