Socionics Alpha: the “Average Guy” Protagonist

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Scenario #1: The Alpha “Average Guy”  Problem.

Protagonist: Average guy.  A little nerdy, fun, nice, but nothing special. Likes computers and video games. Generally decent person but doofy.   Alpha NT.

Love interest: Beautiful woman.  Too good for him.  Two personalities are possible here.

  • Motherly, kind, giving Alpha SF who challenges him to be a better human.
  • Princessy, wild Ne lead who engages flights of fancy and inspires him, but can’t be tied down. Dreamy.

Story goes one of two ways:

  • Protagonist individuates through specific feats.  May include beating up jocks, heroic acts, doing kind things for others, self-sacrifice, getting out of his head into his body, accomplishing something specific, saving children.  Woman who was once ‘too good for him’ finally falls in love with him.
  • Exactly the same plot, except there’s a Gamma SF “dark, sensual temptress” with cigarettes and blood in her mouth, and black leather boots, tempting him. In the end, he resists this temptation in order to be loyal to the “Good” Alpha woman.

Now, allow me to decode this lie.

  • The “Average Guy” myth.
    Some Alpha NT’s may believe they are the “average guy,” and this concept may really ring true for them. However there are lots of other guys who are just as common.
  • The “All men like Certain types of women” myth.
    Since the Protagonist is not “average” more than any other type of guy, the type of woman he wants is also not more desirable to the average man than any other type of woman.
  • The “Madonna vs. Whore” myth.
    Most women are a mixture of both. We are biologically programmed to love, to enjoy sex and to procreate; and as a species we are programmed to think and develop our own interests.
  • The “Guy has to win over a woman” myth.
    Some women know what they want and can’t be “won over.”  Also, women have to better themselves to be deserving of good men, too. We all need to individuate.

The bottom line: There’s nothing essentially wrong with this narrative – in fiction or reality – as long as it is understood as one type of narrative among many.  There’s nothing “average” about it. It’s just one story.

Real Self

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There is no “real self” underneath the masks we wear, aside from archetypal themes each individual falls into, which others have occupied repeatedly throughout time. There is nothing unique and individual under the sun, but our potentials exist within a certain axis. At our best we would “align” with a cosmic purpose that our character is able to channel or fulfill. At worst we would separate ourselves from that and force ourselves to enact a rhythm that is unnatural for us, thus falling out of harmony with the world. The “real self” is not something “under” our masks, but rather something that we must strive to become.
The deepest “illusion” we fall prey to is that we’re separate from the cosmos; that our individual life is an independent entity.  It is a biological imperative to feel this way, because it results from fear of death which feeds our survival instincts. Due to fear of death, we lie to ourselves in a desperate attempt to individuate. But true individuation and realization occurs when we realize death is just part of a cycle.  We all know this intellectually, but we feel it when we are aligned with a greater purpose, and we see our influence conjoined with others to contribute to the collective. Anything less than that, and the only thing we can do is make our lies bigger and louder, to feel like we matter on our own.
The idea that we possess a true self “beneath the masks” implicitly separates us from alignment with the whole. Its a lie we tell ourselves which feeds our survival instincts, but weakens our awareness.  If we conceive of the masks as an expression of self, then we come closer to acknowledging that our performance in the world is fulfilling our connection to the greater scheme, which is the most honest thing we can do.  Humanity will last longer than any single one of us.  We are each one note in a cosmic song.  Playing the wrong note “just to stand out” – or feeling like our real note is something other than the one people are hearing – is clinging to an illusion.
There is a real self, but it’s not separate from presentation; rather, presentation is the path toward actualizing it, so that the idea of self is not just empty chatter.  Some people believe their real self lies beyond the masks they wear, yet fail to realize this type of chatter can be empty even if they keep it to themselves.  They have a narrative or some amorphous sense of “who they are ” that they think they’re hiding from the world, but it is merely a fantasy.  A lack of words or “keeping it hidden” doesn’t actually protect this narrative from being false.  It just heightens the sense that the “presentation” is separate from the “real” identity, which is a lie, so the lies build upon lies until nothing is real.
To me, we are all animal, human and symbol.  The animal is our instincts, which are the same for everyone.  The human is the mind that decides what we will do and who we will be.  The symbol is the impression we leave behind for others.   Many of us try to control that image, but the symbol is out of our control. The collective will see us how it sees us. We can’t control that, but we can control our actions which lead to choices, which then leave an impression.  If we align our animal instincts with our human mind, achieving inner balance, its very likely the way we see ourselves will match how others see us. 

Judging People

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Having opinions about people — a topic that has been on my mind recently.

People often have opinions about other people. Like what they just did was rude. What a jerk! Etc. I often don’t have the same type of knee jerk reactions, because for me there’s a wider perspective and context.

Let’s use an example: my accountant doesn’t say hello or goodbye. He just gives you the numbers and hangs up. Others might call this rude but I call it sensible and economical – he saves several seconds each phone call by doing this. Add that together and you have a lot of time saved on the job. People might think it’s funny that he doesn’t know how to “human,” but I disagree. He “humans” by making a living and setting his own terms.

We live in a society where it is considered normal to watch tv, smoke, get drunk, have several kids we can’t afford. So in order to have a negative opinion about someone who hangs up the phone too fast, a lot of presumptions need to be made about my mindset. For me to hone in on someone who is doing something you don’t see every day, and say that it’s “rude,” I’d have to start with the basic premise that the things people do every day are “not rude,” or, “compassionate.” Smoking is not compassionate to anyone in the room. Drinking is not compassionate toward your loved ones. Watching tv is a waste of life and it makes ones’ skills at “humans” much weaker, as it subtracts time that could be spent talking to people face to face.

So for me to make snap judgments about people, let’s put this in perspective.

A guy is defensive on the internet. What a jerk! I should hate this moron! Ok, hold up: We are all reading posts on the internet rather than doing something productive. Let’s start with this basic premise and sit with it for a moment before continuing to spout accusations. “I am here on the internet reading a complete stranger’s post and reacting to it without seeing his facial expression.” Fact. I sit with that fact.

This is not a lecture on judgment. I really don’t give a shit. If I hate someone at first sight then so be it. Nobody deserves a second chance, the benefit of the doubt or anything else. I have no guilt about how I do or don’t feel about someone.

But in order to jump to the kind of snap judgments people often expect, a lot of pre-determined premises have to be established. For instance, before I can say it’s rude that someone didn’t say hi, I need to agree that saying ‘hi’ is productive, genuine, worthwhile, etc. And in many cases I don’t believe that these social rules ARE productive, genuine, worthwhile…. in many cases I don’t see the point of them. So, while I may engage them myself in order to save myself from potentially annoying consequences, I won’t judge someone negatively for shunning them.

I have a deeply personal perspective on things and in order to agree, or disagree, with people’s snap judgments of others, I would have to accept the basic premises that the things they are judging are relevant in the first place. This is not about kindness or compassion, it’s about perspective and frankly, self-absorption. I’m more concerned with evaluating my own merit because I’m the only person I can control.

Raw Expression

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As I said in my song, Trysticide, “I’d rather be rejected than be worshipped for a lie.”

I never wear foundation – even on stage or shoots. I never straighten, curl or blow-dry my hair. I never wear a bra or stuff to hide my small curves. I never photoshop my body parts, though I have the skills to do so. I express what I feel is true. To me, wearing eye makeup or lipstick is like wearing a beautiful dress; it enhances the natural form. Foundation, ironing hair, creating false curves and photoshopping body parts is covering up something, altering nature’s beauty. I prefer being bare and real, in all my beauty and ugliness. Take me as I am, or don’t.


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I do not believe that just because someone or something exists, it has value. A person exists because their parents had sex and their mother gave birth. Once someone exists, they have potential, not value. Value comes when you explore, and then actualize, your potential to create something worthwhile. 

I don’t believe that I am entitled to anything, nor does anyone have to celebrate me just because I exist. I despise birthdays with a passion. My mother should be celebrated on my birthday if anything, because she gave birth to me on that date and kept me alive for several years when I was utterly helpless. Perhaps my father could be celebrated too. But I don’t see why I deserve presents and prizes just for that. I usually lock myself up alone on my birthday if I can manage, because I find it inauthentic to celebrate me just because I popped out of my mother on that date. I was extremely happy to celebrate finishing my first album, however. I wrote those songs, produced, played several instruments, sang lead through my whisper after losing my hard-earned pro singing voice to an illness. That was an achievement I was happy to celebrate. I still wasn’t conceited about it, and I felt that the other people on the album, and the engineer, and those who contributed financially, and so forth, deserved credit too, and I invited them all to the album release party and told everyone of all the amazing things THEY did. But still, I was proud and happy that I did something that had meaning. That was me actualizing my potential, and thus, bringing something of value into the world. Whether or not someone likes or relates to my music is irrelevant – but I have received notes online from disabled strangers who were inspired by my fight to sing, and that means something. Someone even told me she started doing art again even though she was rapidly losing her vision. Yes, I am proud of that. 

And sure, one could argue that I had to believe my music had value and that I would be capable of pulling it all together (it was a HUGE project)…so in that sense perhaps I had to have a sense of worth to begin with. But where did I get that sense of worth? From practicing piano constantly since age 4, taking tons of music lessons and practicing up to 12 hours a day before I got sick, obsessing over every nuance of every composition for years throughout my whole life, etc. I earned that sense of value through my own blood, sweat and tears, as well as the support of my parents in the early years. That is what gives someone a sense of value. Work. Meaning. Blood, sweat and tears. Purpose. Simply existing is meaningless and empty. Look up at the stars. They will tell you just how insignificant you are.


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One of my deepest fears is apathy and emotional deadness. I was like that for too long. I became lusty and hungry, a monster who couldn’t love, yet seethed with lust and desire. The only emotion I felt was anger, and there was an abundance of it.

Some people strive to minimize their emotions, but this is not the case for me.  I am inspired to face every drop of my pain and overcome.  To me, the way out is through.

I don’t run from my emotions. I embrace them, indulge them, work through them. I pore over every emotion, every weakness, every wound, and bring it to the surface to look it in the face. And I conquer. The phoenix becomes more and more and more fiery until finally it explodes in some form of catharsis, release; music, a novel, a workout. Then I am born again, innocent.