Ask the Sigma: Sigma Self-Improvement
Every man can be a better version of himself
I know you’ve said that questions like these aren’t the point of the SSH. I know that the answer is irrelevant to most men, and I imagine it even be harmful to gammas to publish the answer…
But, I’m curious.
You’ve said that all the ranks of the SSH can become better versions of themselves. How do you think sigmas can become the best version of themselves?
First, I could not care less if Gammas or anyone else publicly self-declares themselves to be Alphas, Sigmas, or Mars Bars. Just yesterday we had one here declaring that he’s a Sigma now… after eight years of fruitlessly orbiting some woman. Very Sigma, much wow. Most Gammas and others prone to self-delusion are never going to understand the SSH or utilize it to their actual advantage, so there is no point in modifying our actions for fear of them doing what they’re going to do anyhow.
Second, the Sigma’s socio-sexual success doesn’t mean that he is a good man, a satisfied man, or that he is maximizing his potential. As with every other behavioral pattern, self-improvement for the Sigma means exercising self-discipline and restraining some of his natural instincts, even if they have served him well in the past in various ways.
For example, even if it made me more initially attractive to her, I have to wrestle with my natural inclination toward indifference in regards to my wife; if I want her to be happy, then it is necessary for me to learn to care about things that are important to her even if I could not possibly care less about them a priori. And developing a conscious ability to not be indifferent at will not only helps our marital relationship, but also helps me work more effectively with my work colleagues, our business partners, our suppliers, and our customers.
Whereas a Sigma will likely struggle with indifference and narcissism, the Alpha will struggle with his appetites and his pride. The Bravo with pettiness and cruelty, the Delta with taking responsibility, the Gamma with dishonesty and malice, the Omega with apathy and despair.
Third, to become the best version of himself, the Sigma has to learn to serve God. Stoic philosophy and benevolent humanism are not enough. Human nature is too fallen, our desires are too base, and the destructive temptations of sin are too sweet for mere behavioral patterns to save us from them. And it is impossible to resist either the pull of evil or the actions of the wicked while rejecting that which gives us the capacity and framework to distinguish between good and evil.
And the only way to God is through His Son, Jesus Christ.
Being an East Asian Studies major, I’m fairly well versed in the various Eastern religions and philosophies. Those who have been following along with the serialization of the 1911 edition of The Cambridge Medieval History at Castalia Library will know that I am at least modestly familiar with both the historical pagan religions and pagan neoplatonism. And as an American Indian, I even know a bit about my tribe’s religion, which has nothing to do with Coyote or the Great Spirit. And none of these various religions, philosophies, or thought models are capable of accounting for, or even describing, anything that we can call evil, with one notable exception.
Ergo the fundamental necessity of Christianity for the man who wants to become the best version of himself, whatever SSH rank he might be or whatever he might wish to call himself.
“I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me.”
There was a little mouse who was very much concerned about himself and his. One day, looking about his little mouse home, a nice enough place, he thought that he could do with a little bit of mouse success, but what was success?
He knew how to get the farmers grain, to get a little mouse wife and have little mouse children, but he thought it prudent to ask successful animals about their success, perhaps he could apply it in his own little mousey life.
First, he thought to visit the lion and his mighty pride. A glamorous handsome beast was this animal, surrounded by lionesses each more svelte than the last.
"Oh mighty Lion, spare this little mouse and grace him with an answer, what is success?"
Cracking open a eye, the lion was in a good mood, since no rivals had appeared for some time, and his stomach was full. He decided to humor the little mouse.
"Look at all around you, I am King of these plains, and my women hunt to fill my belly, I tell you little mouse, it is good to be the King, to rest full and pleased. All my desires are sated each day, can you claim the same little mouse? Best you become a little mouse king, with all the little mouse ladies waiting paw and whiskers on you!"
Saying that, he intended to rest once more, but another lion and came, threatening to take his women and kill his children, and the mouse watched in terror and awe as a fierce fight ensued, he fled before the victor was determined.
Next, when his little heart had stopped beating so very fast, the mouse sought the council of wolves. His timing was not the greatest as the wolves were at dinner. Nervously the mouse looked at steaming dead deer, but still he asked in squeaking voice;
"Noble wolves, fine hunters, spare this mouse and grace him with an answer what is success?"
The leader of the wolves didn't deign to answer, focused as he was on keeping order, watching the other wolves eat their rightful share, but one wolf barked a laugh and towered before the mouse.
"Look at our pack little mouse, see how good it is under the order of a wise leader! What a joy it is to work under him! To execute his will and together with fine comrades hunt prey! You would do well little mouse, to find a wise mouse king and serve him well, so well you'll be served!"
Having said his piece, it was going to be this wolf's turn to eat, but one of the lower ranked wolves, perhaps he was chancing it, or his paws slipped, but he looked to be closer to the dinner deer, than the wolf who spoke.
"Not your turn! Not your turn! Obey the leader's rules!"
The little mouse fled as one wolf was brutally savaged by another.
Now, the little mouse was weary of apex predators and thus sought the council of more sedate animals, that was how he found himself in company of the dutiful beaver amid heavy rain. Standing on no ceremony, he squeaked plainly.
"Ho good beaver, you're always ready to help a fellow out, tell this mouse, what is success?"
The beaver paused in lugging a sturdy branch, confused.
"Success? Have a look at our dam!"
The mouse did so, it was very nice.
"Nice innit?"
It was.
"Job's good, life's good, what more does a beaver need? Find yourself some work little mouse, and stick to it! Don't worry about success!"
Having said that, the beaver took his branch and shoved it into the dam, but as he did so, the rain had made the river mightier than the dam, and with an appalling crack, the work of the beavers was undone and they swam about in dismay like headless water fowl. It would take some time for the beavers to work once more. The little mouse left, more than a little disheartened.
As the little mouse wandered confused through the woods, he was accosted by a figure only a little larger than himself.
A fat rat, short and small among rats, but fat still.
"I've heard you've been talking to successful animals, I'm something of a successful animal myself, always have been!"
"Ok" muttered the mouse, continuing on his way.
The rat followed, yattering on.
"Those lions and wolves are fools struggling in life and death, and the beaver? Working? What sort of idiot works! They wish they could be as successful as I am!"
"I'm sure they do" the mouse murmured, picking up the pace.
Still the rat, huffing and puffing followed.
"You can only wish to be like me, but even if you're small, short and scrawny under my tutelage you could make it big kid!"
"I'm fine thanks!"
The fat rat reared up and hissed.
"Just like the others, you think you're too good huh? Here I am, trying to help kin! I'll show you!"
For as fat as the rat was, it wasn't easy fleeing from the wrathful rodent.
Head spinning, the mouse was resting before a deep dark den, he didn't like the look of it, but he was too tired after his flight to move. He did however hear heavy breathing coming from the den.
"W-who's there!" He called out.
"N-nobody and i-if there was, it'd be a bony someone with no meat, so you'd best not come inside, please!"
A strange notion took the mouse then, and he spoke with might unfamiliar to him.
"If you don't want me coming in and gobbling you up, you'd best answer my question! What is success!"
"Cruel! Cruel! Cruel! You intend to eat me, there's no such thing as success! To ask such a thing! Don't eat me!"
After much begging and pleading, the den dweller saw that nobody had come in to eat him.
"You aren't hungry right now? Well I guess you're saving me for later. I don't believe in success, but if you're talking survival, the raccoon will outlast us all"
Having his little breath back, and finding the den dweller disturbing, the mouse went one, seeking out the raccoon. He found many woodland animals knew of him, but neither hide nor tail could he find of this creature.
Finally after a lot of trouble, he found the raccoon messing about with some rocks.
"Ho..."
The mouse began his spiel, but the raccoon ignored him completely as if the mouse was air. The little mouse tried to make sense of what the raccoon was doing, but couldn't understand. He tried to talk to him, but the raccoon gave a glance that silenced the little mouse like magic. In the end the raccoon finished whatever he was doing with the rocks and left.
Three more times the mouse sought out the raccoon, each time finding the animal engaged in some obscure doing, except that time he found the raccoon with a lady raccoon. The mouse had left quickly of his own accord then.
Finally, one more time the mouse found the raccoon hanging from a branch over a sheer cliff.
"I beg you, tell me what success is and I'll leave you alone!"
Finding the mouse a hindrance to the enjoyment of the life risking breathtaking view, the raccoon finally answered.
"Just do as you please, why worry so much about success?"
The mouse could not reply for at that moment, the branch the raccoon was dangling from snapped, and the raccoon plummeted to his death, but the mouse was most taken with how the raccoon had laughed all the way to the bottom.
Perhaps more confused than when he began, grain and mouse wife far from his mind, the little mouse decided to ask the oldest tree in the wood what success is.
A massive gnarled oak, ancient in years, the little mouse had a very hard time climbing up this venerable elder, still he managed and asked.
"O great tree who has witnessed many seasons, what is success?"
A grand creaking and shuddering accompanied the voice of the elder tree.
"That any of you creatures can speak of success is a mystery, all of you die, but..."
The mouse heard no more, for reminded of the things he had seen, and the shadow of death, he heard not the following words from the tree.
Blindly the little mouse wandered into the misty bog. Lost and terrified, and terrified further that he was in the deadly misty bog, the mouse tried to find his way back out.
It was then that he encountered a stranger in the fog. He couldn't see the form of this being, but he had hypnotic eyes and a pleasing hiss.
"Poor little mouse, all alone in the bog, what brings you here?"
The mouse told his tale, of seeking success and finding death.
"If you trust me, climb into my mouth, and I'll bring you far away from here, to a land of success where nobody ever dies!"
The mouse was greatly tempted, but just as he was about to climb on forked tongue, a chilling hoot called out.
An impact, and the snake lay dead before the mouse. Fog clearing from his little head, the mouse's little heart almost stopped.
"Be not afraid" said the owl, tearing into snake flesh.
"This day I feast on snake and you are spared"
Summoning up his courage.
"Great terror of the sky, spare this mouse and grace him with an answer what is success?"
A hooting laugh, for the owl was blessed with knowledge and his eyes piercing the mouse knew what he had seen and heard.
"Had you stayed to listen to the tree you would know, instead you fled in fear with only the Truth of Death. If you would be more than meal for worms, seek the Lord of the Forest!"
With that, the owl flew away with the rest of the snake.
The poor little mouse was still lost in the Misty Bog, possessing no success and the Truth of Death.
However this tale is now much longer than the mouse's tail, so how he escaped is a story for another time...
>The Bravo with pettiness and cruelty
Someone I know well might be a Bravo. I have never seen either of these traits in him, but if the Dark Lord says so, it might be worth looking out for them.
Big Bear Owen Benjamin gave a succinct description of his potential weakness for overzealous policing in a brief anecdote from his childhood: he started beating up someone that his alpha had suggested needed beating up, only to see no-one else joining in and his gang all staring at him in astonishment. Apparently, they hadn't meant it literally, but he'd taken it as a task and leapt into execution. And remarkably, he gained the insight into his weakness.