This passage is taken from Andy Nowicki's newly-published Ruminations of a Low-Status Male, Volume 3: On Being Unwanted, now available on Kindle and in paperback.

There is a certain boy I remember from my youth. 

As an adolescent, he was a slight, gawky lad with a wide mouth and incongruously beady eyes.  Unfortunate-looking though he was, he wasn’t of a resentful frame of mind; nothing in him seemed inclined towards viewing life in such a light; instead, quite oblivious to his miserable social state, or in any case utterly unmindful thereof, he relentlessly projected an attitude of thoroughgoing optimism; what was more, he was an inveterate and rather pesky romantic, much  after the fashion of Looney Toons mainstay “Pepe Le Pew.” 

A would-be Romeo, absent the charisma or the charm, he was never without a Juliet, even if she only belonged to him in his fantasy world. But none of this would have been terribly striking, had he not also shown a marked preference for pretty, popular girls, the sort for whom he was nothing but a nuisance, at best. He wrote them love poetry and fawned over them constantly, and always seemed to take their inevitable rejections in stride.

A Romeo for all peoplekind
I suppose there was something admirable about his absence of inhibition, even if it was more an indication of reckless heedlessness than of manful fortitude in the face of never-ending humiliation. Still, the result was the same: this wide-mouthed, beady-eyed pseudo-Romeo always avoided getting slapped by reality. Indeed, even if one of his bevy of chosen populette Juliets had actually slapped him, he would have found it no more disheartening than when that feline object of Pepe Le Pew’s ardor slapped that stinky would-be wooer in the maw, and he responded, “Ahhhhh, mon cherie, oui oui, love can hurt, yes? But yet we still love, no?” before smothering her anew with a series of unwanted skunky kisses.

Of course the boy in question wasn’t nearly as rape-ishly aggressive or space-invasive as M. Le Pew, but he proved to be equally unflappable. Yet in spite of his talent to ignore the ignominy of embarrassment, this unflappable lad was nevertheless castigated-- and to my mind, even in retrospect, quite rightly so-- for his proclivity to fling himself at popular girls and rhapsodize their beauty in verse. His fellow low-status males found him clownish and contemptible, however, for reasons that none of us could exactly articulate at the time, but now it’s plainly apparent that the boy simply lacked pride; indeed, he struck us (though, again, we didn’t know how to put it back then) as shameless.

For we self-respecting low-status men knew then what we still know now, that beauty is the bait intended to lure us into self-betrayal and self-debasement. The low-status self-respecter is cunning and astute; quite aware of the desire within him to be wanted (discussed at the beginning of this volume), he has nevertheless opted to go without. He knows that going without will, of course, necessarily result in a feeling of a paucity, or lack. Still, he accepts this lack in his life, since the alternative, as far as he can tell, can only be something still worse.

It would be interesting to know what has become of my classmate, the “Pseudo-Romeo” discussed above. Did he maintain his unflappability into adulthood? Was he ever persuaded to lower his standards, and compose verse for a slightly homelier species of woman; if so, did he maybe finally succeed in his relentless wooing efforts, and actually land himself a girlfriend? 

If so, did he afterwards find that the thrill of the quest perhaps failed to be commensurate with the glory of the supposed achievement? Did he ever wake up in the night next to his slightly homelier girlfriend-cum-wife-- now grown conspicuously homelier, fatter, and more sullen-- and suddenly realize, with a horrified shudder, that all of his years of ardent white-knighting had only won him a remaining lifetime of humdrum misery and quiet desperation? That the female species that he revered as angelic turned out in the end to be quite human after all, and (in his case, anyhow) considerably less interested in his own well-being and happiness than the inverse?

Or, as somehow seems more likely, did our Pseduo-Romeo sadly never fully discover the folly of his ways? Did enlightenment concerning the egregious error of his simpish, female beauty-praising proclivities only linger fitfully in his subconscious on a few occasions before always ultimately dissipating into the ether?

In short, once a man first strides heedlessly down the path of contemptible and pathetic white-knightery, does the surety of a state of servile emasculation forever dominate his future?

Andy Nowicki, assistant editor of Alternative Right, is the author of eight books, including Under the NihilThe Columbine PilgrimConsidering Suicide, and Beauty and the Least. Visit his Soundcloud page and his YouTube channel. His author page is Alt Right Novelist. 


  1. There is a such a "low status male" who finally meets a girl who will love him and over look his crap and marry him and have his children and dedicate herself to making a life with him only to have him make a fool of her,shame her and his marriage in public constantly at every opportunity?

  2. This kind of low status male, one would think they have no pride or shame-indeed his pride is so low that he makes a living and gains social standing among his fellow low status males and homosexuals attempting to take away his wife's pride. In fact, it spread to all females generally. Even to men who like females. To the point that it becomes a sadistic passive aggressive obsession for him.

  3. This kind of low status male- stinks to high heaven. Is a running open sewer. a contemplative open sewer.

  4. This comment has been removed by the author.



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