Confessions of A Beta Male Orbiter

By Mel C. Thompson

A lust-crazed religious teenager is slowly driven to distraction by the hot babes that inhabit his evangelical, Texas youth group. Unable, due to his strict adherence to chastity, to have sex, and unable, due to his lack of financial status, to attract the top-shelf women he craves, he is forced into being the b-actor of romance awaiting a lucky break in the lottery of love. There is more than one surprise as the wheel of fate turns.

The book was intended to be a kind of manual by a one Marvin Godwin Plinkers of Lake Compromise, Texas, (an admittedly mythical city). In responding the pleas of a besieged youth counselor who cannot figure out how to deal with the beta male orbiters that come to him, Marvin decides to write a series of lectures which contain all of the suppressed truth about these lost souls. However, the book quickly becomes half-confessional, a text in which seemingly dry treatises are interspersed with true romantic confessions. The lines between genres become hopelessly tangled. Marvin refuses to agree with either left-wing propaganda or right-wing propaganda regarding romantically unsuccessful men. He himself is that lovelorn Jesus freak who, at least seemingly, could not quite make it in any area of life.

The book begins with a letter in which Marvin attempts to deal with the youth counselor who has contacted him, but the body of the book quickly degenerates into a series of dating failures and didactic mini-treatises. A recurring theme in the book is the slow loss of innocence, both theological and sexual.

The book is situated in the very-transitional time of the late 1970s and early 1908s. And because every ideological and identity politics group wants to conveniently explain-away the existence of beta-male orbiters, the book is made to be ruthless in its refusal to let anyone's narrative prevail. It's universal message is that our social bedtime stories are all false. Life cannot be controlled by them, but surges forward unwilling to ever be tamed by our belief systems. Love and sex will never be bow to human attempts to manage it.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mel C. Thompson
• Release date: Aug 15, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463745472

Mel C. Thompson

Mel C. Thompson is a retired wage slave who survived by working through temp agencies and guard agencies. Unable to survive in the real world of full-time, permanent work, he migrated from building to building, going wherever his agencies sent him, doing any type of work he could feign competency in and staying as long as those fragile arrangements could last. He somehow managed to get a B.A in Philosophy from Cal-State Fullerton in spite of his learning disorders and health problems. Unable to sustain family life due to depression, anxiety, sleep disorders, lack of transportation and lack of income, he lives alone in low-income housing and wanders around California on buses and trains. He began writing at the age of 14 and continues till the current day. (He turns 64 in June of 2023). In his early years he wrote pathetic love poetry until, in his thirties, he was engulfed by cynicism and fell in with a group of largely antisocial poets who wrote about the underground life of drugs, sex, alcohol, poverty, prostitution, heresy, isolation and alienation. In his fortes he turned to prose and began to write religious fiction with an emphasis on the comedic aspect of theology and philosophy. He now writes short novels focusing on the attempt to find meaning in a economic world beset with money laundering, unethical marketing, contraband smuggling, human trafficking, patent trolling, corrupt contracting and every manner of spiritual and psychological desperation and degradation. When he is not writing, he wanders from hospital to medical clinic to surgical room attempting to sustain what little health he has left after a lifetime of complications resulting from birth defects and genetic problems. When he is able, he engages in such hobbies as reading, walking, yoga and meditation; and whenever there is any money left over from his healthcare-related quests, he goes to wine tastings and searches for foodie-related bargains. Before the pandemic, he spent many years gaming various travel-points systems and wrangled many free trips to Europe. He is divorced and has no children, no pets, no real estate, no stocks nor any other assets beyond the $550 in his savings account. His career peaked in the early 2000s when he did comedy gags for a radio station and had about 10,000 listeners per week. However, currently, he may have as few as five active readers on any given day. He no longer has the stamina to promote his work and only finds new readers through ran...

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Confessions of A Beta Male Orbiter

Mel C. Thompson

Copyright © 2019, Mel C. Thompson

Mel C. Thompson Publishing

3559 Mount Diablo Boulevard, #112

Lafayette, California 94549

[e-mail]

Feel free to use the contact information above to comment on any of my works and-or the works of the other authors I publish. If you have any questions about Mel C. Thompson Publishing, also known as MCTP, or you wish to inquire about any of our paperback books on Amazon, published through the Kindle Direct Publishing interface, please use the same contact information to make your inquiry. Authors are also welcome to contact me if they have questions about writing, publishing or performing, including technical questions related to paperback book layout and production. I am a product of the 1990s era of confessional and declamatory writing, and I reject all forms of political correctness and censorship. Besides writing, my other mission has been to assist writers when time and energy permit, largely through free consulting on publishing matters.

Cyborg Productions, Blue Beetle Press, Citi-Voice Magazine, Zero Capital Press, The Lost Continent Review, and Marble Lobby Press are all imprints of Mel C. Thompson Publishing Company.

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Table of Contents

Prologue

A Beta Male Orbiter Is Born

The Expansion of The Beta Male Orbiter Lifestyle

Beta Male Orbiter In The Experimental Mode

The Conclusion of A Beta Male Orbiter Phase

Epilogue

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Prologue

Return To Table of Contents

Reverend August Wrathburn,

Youth Guidance Counselor,

Texas Apocalypse Ministries

333 All Apostles Boulevard

Lake Compromise, TX 76229

I received your letters with great interest. And if I understand your situation right, you are a youth counselor for troubled high school and college kids who, to put it delicately, are outcasts of the economic and social machinery of our fair Dallas metroplex.

You have been warned, no doubt, that I am an apostate and a heretic and that I no longer subscribe to the bulk of the dogma which, as you have been well appraised, I once held to be true.

But you have wisely continued to reach out to me regarding a certain difficult matter which seems to come up in your work time and time again. (I finally intend to address that matter fully). And furthermore, you have described an urgent enough situation among these youth which you are tasked with saving from homelessness, indigence and isolation. It seems that if one fails to become an economic star in the Lone Star State, all Hell breaks loose, (no pun intended).

Although we would normally be the fiercest of rivals, I will, in the spirit of ecumenicalism, at last give a full response to the questions you've been having about the beta male orbiters, since the truth of their existence seems to cause both young men and young women to suffer inordinately.

I do truly send my sympathies regarding the fact that dealing with this all-but-forbidden topic falls to you, since anyone earning more money than you knows they must never discuss it unless they can squarely face society-wide censure. And I have told you, just out of concern for your future, to never seek out the information you have asked me to pass on to you, information that, once learned, cannot be unlearned. However, you have satisfactorily allayed my fears for your wellbeing by stating, from the outset, that you have inherited substantial funds which are held in a third party trust that can't even be taken in a lawsuit.

And you have further told me that this lowly work, (please forgive the insensitivity of that phrase), is your true calling and that you seek no public stature and no significant career advancement. Thus you are, by my lights, in an almost unassailable position, the only type of position one may be in if one is to survive hearing the actual facts of young men's lives after they fall from the upper-middle-class.

More pointedly, you have said that more and more young men are coming to you and saying that they have found out they are beta male orbiters. You also note that the young women coming to your clinic, if I may call it that, are livid that, and I quote from your letters quoting them, All the guys my age are beta male losers. And given that the parents of these children are not allowed to even broach this topic for fear of being exiled from all human contact, it falls to us, men who are almost unassailable, to finally confront the whole thing.

I can only apologize in advance that this latest and most detailed response to your letters is dozens of pages long, but I felt it necessary to tell the whole story of my high school and junior college years, the years during which I first became a beta male orbiter. (Some argue that I later became the most severe case of beta male orbiting that has ever been observed. But this is probably hyperbole.)

It was with no small hesitation that I included in this response to your letters many incidents and many opinions which stray far from what you call The Word of God and what others call common human decency. And while this letter might not bring you any Christian edification, I can promise you this: After you're done reading this letter, an almost endless list of so-called impenetrable mysteries about the people you work with will now be solved with the utmost of ease. This in no way means that either you or the young adults in your charge will be saved from all discomfort or pain, but you will at least no longer feel like you're losing your minds, since you will know that at least one person on this earth is not afraid of what you're all going through.

And yes, the young women are right to say that beta male orbiters are terribly frustrating to deal with, and even more so when one considers that the percent of the population that could be described as beta male orbiters grows daily. And what can one say about the beta male orbiters themselves? Their role in life borders on impossibly hard and their road in life seems to lead to what you would call certain perdition.

Still, it must be reasserted, that even when a sick person cannot be cured, it helps for them to finally know what disease they suffer from; and it helps to know that a doctor exists who believes the symptoms as reported and validates the patient's suspicion that all along something was very wrong. There is nothing more crazy-making that to be enmeshed in a whole set of circumstances about which one is unable to speak due to being shamed into silence. It is my guess that the symptoms that your patients report could be reduced by perhaps fifty percent by the mere possibility of them not being alone in their sufferings.

My only guess as to how to safely inform these young men about the malady they suffer from is to beg them not to tell their parents or teachers that it was you who awakened them to the true source of their suffering. It goes without saying that at least one of them, one fine day, will betray you and tell the public about what you know. That will surely be the end your career. But, as I understand your stance here, you've decided to let truth be your light, however ugly that truth might be, (and the truth about beta male orbiters is about as ugly as it gets), and that you've already accepted the loss of your career in advance.

I tip my hat to you in the spirit of brotherhood and sincerely hope that you will not interpret anything I've written as coming from a place of capricious malice.

Most Sincerely,

Marvin Godwin Plinkers.

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A Beta Male Orbiter Is Born

Return To Table of Contents

Hannah was hot. That's for sure. Also, quite obviously, she was way out of my league, not only because my scraggly, red beard looked disgusting, and my shoulder length hair was thin and stringy, but because she looked perfect in her form-fitting, sky-blue dress, and because she had an easy self-confidence about her that made my tragically insecure existence look laughably absurd.

Although my arms were so scrawny that I probably couldn't have defeated a person a half foot shorter than me in a wrestling match, and although my teeth were such a mess that I needed braces, crowns, extractions and gum surgery, still, I clung to the belief that Hannah would one day fall in love with me. This hallucinatory belief was made more intense by my love for that crisp, white collar that was attached to the top of that form-fitting, blue dress. That white collar beautifully accentuated her perfectly sculptured neck.

Now Hannah was simply the master of her realm. She held forth on her porch every day,