I had been reading a novel and reached a part where two brothers, once deeply committed to each other, experienced a profound fissure. The thought that this could someday happen with my own brother, whom I loved fiercely, unraveled me. Before I knew it, I was sobbing, all-out chesty heaves and whimpers. My girlfriend stared out the window with set, narrowed eyes. Nearby passengers and attendants stole glances my way.Notice the way in which that the Gamma has internalized the feminist mantra of "the personal is the political". He has, in his own mind, turned his own weakness into a bold political act. So, he's not a crybaby, he is a fearless Social Justice Warrior.
If this wasn’t enough of a surprise — I hadn’t cried in 19 years, since I was 11 — I did something that unwittingly became one of the most important political acts of my life.
I stared back.
I made sure that anyone who looked my way saw my swollen, bloodshot eyes. They were going to have to turn away first, and I stared them all down. On the walk to baggage claim my girlfriend looked everywhere but at me. “What was that all about back on the plane?” she asked, her eyes still narrowed.
“I’m not sure,” I said, and I turned toward her, wanting her to see the dried, salty streaks on my cheeks, which encoded some message like invisible ink. She stared straight ahead.
Monday, January 26, 2015
Gamma delusion in action
There is literally no reality that the Gamma male can't rationalize away. But it's not often that we get to see the delusional process of bubble construction laid out in print: