I’m a lone wolf. I’m Rambo. I’m Mad Max. I’m am any number of stoic and heroic Clint Eastwood characters. I’m James Dean, the enigmatic outcast. I am Han Solo or James Bond or Batman. I am SIGMA MALE.
I am the hero in waiting. I am the non-conformist. I am the one who rejects authority and hierarchy and ideology and anything that tries to tell me what to think or how to behave. But I’m ALPHA MALE. I am that label.
I walk alone. I don’t give a shit about convention. I dance to the beat of my own drum.
My relation to the hierarchy is no relation. I am defined in opposition to the alpha and beta and omega males not unlike the feminists who’s defined by her relation to males or the Christian who’s defined in terms of his relation to God, Jesus, other Christians and those of other faiths or no faith.
The articles and videos I watch glorify what I am, dissecting me in terms of all my virtues while dissecting and exposing the vice or inadequacies of those I’m in “non-relation” to. But why shit on them if there’s no relation? In order to be better than another, it seems I must exist in relation to them. Yet, the Sigma males exists outside the hierarchy of the Alpha, Beta and Omega. It all gets very confusing.
Nonetheless, I’m the hero. The hero who will accept pussy but doesn’t need it. Nor do I need the recognition or accolades of the crowd, though I’m filled with the potential that would merit them (contrary to the beta who doesn’t possess those qualities or the alpha who needs the accolades).
I am that hero.
I am the hero who sometimes doesn’t get out of bed for two days, until I’m sickened by the smell of my own breath and asshole.
I am the hero who hates rules but loves being defined, especially in heroic terms.
I am the hero who is always late.
I am the hero who gives a half-assed effort at work, cause I’m neither seeking the glory of the alpha, nor am I the pushover that the beta is.
I am the hero who doesn’t call a sick relative soon or often enough.
I am the hero who should lose a few pounds, but doesn’t.
I am the hero that never went to war when there was a war to be a hero in.
I am the hero that lays on the couch watching Netflix instead helping the community.
I am the hero who dislikes immigrants.
I am the independent thinking, non-ideological hero who reads lists that tell me how and why I’m a hero.
I am the hero that wears Sketchers or New Balance.
I am the hero lacking the superpower to detect my own mannerisms that creep people out.
I am the hero who will never ascend to the top of the hierarchy, so I make a virtue out of rejecting it.
I am the hero who sometimes washes his hands after pissing.
I am the hero too afraid to commit to a woman. I am Blondie/The Man With No Name, more afraid of a marriage licence than Tuco or Angel Eyes’ six shooters.
I am the hero filled with virtue and courage, awaiting his moment of glory. But there’s not enough glory in packing prom shoes to be sent overseas to people without shoes. There’s not enough glory for this hero in scrubbing dishes at the community handicapped center. My heroism and glory are reserved for battling Satan or the Viet Cong or Goldfinger. I won’t shovel my neighbor’s snow unless she gives me the accolades or glory of Achilles. But her glory is the glory of a plebeian. I am far more, just waiting for the opportunity to exercise that potential. And, as a non-sigma, you are probably unaware of how much it haunts me. How much it torments my soul to be Bruce Wayne laying on the couch eating a bag of post-Halloween Kit Kats (purchased at 70% discount) and watching an NFL game I don’t give a shit about when I could be saving Gotham from Two-Face instead. My soul weeps with every bite of that crispy Kit Kat, knowing that the world (hierarchy) I reject won’t deliver an adequately villainous enough villain. So I’ll go on eating Kit Kats instead of doing anything else…anything more productive for myself or the world that supports my lifestyle and choices….until that world delivers an adequate opportunity to display my heroism.
I am the hero that is disillusioned.
I am the hero that is hypocritical.
I am the hero that is often narcissistic and selfish when others aren’t.
I am the hero that is often lazy.
In other words, I am more like others than dislike them.
And it’s an old game, scrutinizing others and comparing them to what you are and aren’t. Noticing that you’re agnostic, neither the ideologue of theism or atheism. Or politically moderate, neither hardline conservative or liberal. Then, taking what you are, and picking it apart and elevating in terms of your virtues that they don’t possess. Elevating your virtues while mostly ignoring the vice. Extolling your virtue while ignoring most or any of theirs.
But I am the hero. I am the hero that does just that.
I am SIGMA MALE and an asshole but it feels good to think otherwise.