Botoxalips Now
Curious "beauty" standards, online swiping digital vapors, and the end of amore.
How could I compete with their love for themselves?
β Every lover of every βinfluencerβ
To love the statistics of a heart button is to love deeply, with a now socially nourished and fiscally rewarded soul-crushing narcissism that has become so deeply entrenched in the world that not putting all of oneβs energy into seeking the artificially fleeting admiration of others will soon probably render a diagnosis of schizophrenia or autism.
For nearly two decades, hearts have been everything.
When the idea of Amore moved online the predictable transformation of digital vapors worked its diminishing magic with disconnect and despair. Heightened expectations through transitory fantasies from behind a protective veil of distance and asymmetry dispelled the need to think and react to a moment, in the only manner non-sociopaths canβhonestly.
Vapid pretense and performance took center stage distancing those expectations further from reality as the truth of individuals became buried by the impressions they sought to convey. Earned trust, which was once built by past human interactions over time turned into faith.
Having faith in the honest digital re-presentations of strangers about themselves is quite a leap, but people took it because it was safe. One generation, then another preferred safety over having skin in the game and potentially taking risks that might result in unwanted human emotions that arise from rejection and disappointment.
The more the fantasy of future relations became disconnected from reality, the greater the disappointment. The more one disconnected their digital re-presentation from reality, the harder they were rejected when truth displaced fantasy.
The process was ugly and lonely souls became even more lonely as the armies of disconnected and disappointed stopped taking any risks at all, but only of the emotional kind.
Dating sites got rid of hearts and commanded the horny brigades hungry for attention or an STD to swipe left or right instead of touching a button. The corporeal risk from poor impulsive decisions was still acceptable.
Swipe right to express an interest in impulsive and fleeting sexual relations with a perfect stranger that might be shorter and less fulfilling than a minute of any sitcom that has aired on network television this century or swipe left to express apathy or loathing at the appearance of another human who may be brilliant, witty, thoughtful, caring, empathetic, masterful in bed, a genius even!
InterludeβInspiration for This Post
Recently residing at one of several short-term rentals in Vallarta, a group of California chickies pulled their luggage through the courtyard and past the pool where I was nursing a few cold ones in the hopes it would serve as a liquid laxative to break a week of creative constipation.
The chickies wore the travel attire of their favorite celebrities, all of whom fly on Gulfstream Jets where they drink Courvoisier and snort cocaine. By now youβve seen the same attire if youβve visited an American airport in the past few years: jazzercise leotards (lemon lulus?), furry-rimmed shoes that either look like house slippers or furry-rimmed boots best suited for an arctic expedition. On top of it all oversized hoodies covering a baseball cap and D.B. Cooper shades.
When did it become socially acceptable to dress for a teenage girl slumber party to fly internationally?
If all women traveled like this in the 1970s, PanAm ticket agents would have called the Polizei to let them know the Baader Meinhoff gang was going to hijack the plane.
But even the Baader Meinhof Frau didnβt dress like complete terrorists, because that would have been dumb, and drawn suspicion.
Where have you gone, Joe DiMaggio?
Our nation turns its lonely eyes to you
Beneath their Kartrashian-inspired threads, I suspected a colossal plastering of ungodly scarring in the form of Chinese characters, hieroglyphs, and other incomprehensible symbols comprising one impulsive, regretful, dermal catastrophe after another.
Upon closer look, I noticed it wasnβt just their air travel attire that was uniform. Each chickie had puffed-up inflatable lips, unnaturally wide hips, and giant asses that also appeared as if theyβd been inserted with a needled hose at the service station and inflated upward and horizontally outward to defy gravity.
It was bizarre and reminded me of the fembots from the Austin Powers film, except less attractive, and if you can believe it, even less human. I put the latest post on hold and decided to play catch-up and began to dig up metamorphosing beauty standards on the old internet. The one from circa 2015, before they deleted everything true. What I discovered, youβre now reading about.
Itβs true that beauty standards are always changing, and that many of those standards that were once created in magazines like Vogue or on the runways of Paris, or in popular films, and later music videos are now manufactured on social media with competing movements vying for the minds, money, and attention of the hordes of easily influenced youths.
On the extremist poles for younger women, there are minds that have been captured by the trad wives or the liberated feminists.
Although to the left of the feminist are now the βgender fluidβ non-binary brigades of thoroughly groomed and brainwashed zoomers that look like androgynoid aliens.
Western youths have always been moved by passing fads and trends, whether created by stylists, public relations experts of the advertising industry, or other sorcerers of popular culture that generated insecurities in young women which could only be remedied through emulation and transformation.
Then the analog was replaced with digital vapors and the middlemen, the mad men, were mostly removed from the picture.
Gradually the Internet transplanted magazines and television in the role of raising western children whose parents were both forced to work just to sustain a middle-class standard of living that was possible with one blue-collar salary just a generation prior.
Whenever children wanted to change their appearance, in the past it was dismissed as indulging a passing fad, and parents used to say, βItβs just a phase.β
Are they still saying that when their daughter comes home and says her teachers told her to chop off her breasts and get beard implants?
![Calvin Klein courts backlash over trans Mother's Day ad campaign [photo] - Swisher Post](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!uY1w!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F9a2be3ae-2d5f-4435-97f3-8b85446aabae_875x900.jpeg "Calvin Klein courts backlash over trans Mother's Day ad campaign [photo] - Swisher Post")
Woo, woo, woo
What's that you say, Mrs. Robinson?
Joltin' Joe has left and gone away
As the denial of reality accelerates across the dying west, the collective performances in digital spheres become more extreme. Agency and responsibility no longer beget consequences to alter behavior after making poor choices.
Itβs no longer necessary to put in the effort at the gym to shape oneβs body when liposuction, a tummy tuck, or ass implants can yield sufficient enough results, that others will pretend are βbeautifulβ even if completely artificial.
The same goes for a face, which can now be reconstructed to create an entirely different one without the masses of a hundred million βfollowersβ being horrified by it.
Not only will they not be horrified, but theyβll turn a teenage girl with a father who dresses like a woman, a greedy pimp mother, and disgusting sisters into a billionaire who sells them her reconstructed face as βnaturalβ and the results of her beauty products.
Those young girls who are now approaching their twenties still try to emulate her mental illness acquired through a dysfunctional childhood by also injecting their lips with chemicals, having rhinoplasty, brow lifts, chins shaved, and stealing glue-on eyelashes and eyebrows from backstage at the muppet show.
To aid the hordes of insecure young girls who couldnβt afford to go under the knife, digital performance applications built in special tools to completely hide blemishes and automatically photoshop their insecurities away.
As the digital vapors spread, it always seemed the more the moral gatekeepers of inclusion and tolerance preached βacceptanceβ and βloving oneselfβ the less that young women accepted and loved themselves.
For the obese or morbidly obese who cannot afford constant βworkβ at the surgeonβs clinic, thatβs now fine too. To appease the new masters of blind tolerance and acceptance, Type 2 diabetes and early death from heart failure are now βbeautifulβ also.
As I wrote last spring of the new gassy bloated cows gracing the cover of recent Sports Illustrated Swimsuit issues in a diabolical campaign to normalize obesity:
The elusive inspirational idea of aspirational beauty is now dead. Hard work and dedication through discipline and setting goals no longer matter. Anyone can be anything if we all agree to deny reality hard enough and make exceptions for the weakest among us because forget strength and survival, weβre only as tolerant as we are accepting the deficiencies of our weakest links. Instead of a rising tide to help everyone, letβs scuttle all boats until weβre all at the bottom of the sea. And so we rework our western stage play to accommodate all actors while denying their agency and ignoring the hard truths of reality.
Anyone can be a supermodel because nothing needs to be earned when meritocracy is dead. Even bloated gassy cows can be supermodels. Think about the real supermodel who knows this but has to keep her mouth shut or risk never working again. Everyone plays their part.
Itβs difficult to sort through the young legions not taken by one fad or another of physical transformation that will ultimately lead to shame and regret and most of which are now mainstreamed standards of βbeauty.β
The relativist excusers will say, βYeah, but Good Citizen itβs always been like this!β
Has it?
Sure, hair lengths in women and men and clothing styles have always changed. Yes, I know Edward Bernays got women to start smoking using psychology and a public relations campaign. And skirt lengths were trimmed and showing legs was controversial and on and on.
But what about facial reconstruction, permanent dermal scarring, implants, titty slicing, cock lopping, lip injections, and obesity normalizing?
Has it, really always been this way?
Really?
Whoβs fighting? Itβs examination time man, itβs a crazy game.
Itβs also true dating has always been difficult and time-consuming, online or off.
But now the pool of viable mates has diminished once again, as hundreds of millions of young men and women lined up to have their sperm vaporized and ovum short-circuited as if theyβd been eating tainted chicken feed.
The marketplace for pureblood sperm, eggs, hemoglobin, and critical thinking skills will only be outdone by the demand for a pureblood mate.
Even the triple-jabbed who sooner or later face the reality of their poor decisions will want a pureblood mate.
How does that conversation go at the speed dating tables?
Hi, Iβm Frank, before we waste time getting to know each other I need to know if you got any toxic Covid injections.
O-M-G, thatβs like, um, literally none of your business.
But you wanted my toxic injection status to be all of your business last year and threatened my job, livelihood, family, and future if I didnβt get it.
Are you like an anti-vaxxer?
[Sits quietly drinking cocktail for the remaining 4 minutes and 30 seconds watching her face fill up with regret until he can move to the next table to repeat his only important question.]
Itβs gonna be easier swiping the digital vapors on those apps, isnβt it?
The first dating app that mandates a section for pure Hgb status, including the number of toxic depopulation shots and which Big Pharma brandβs DARPA-patented proprietary technology runs through their veins, will win the digital vapors swiping sweepstakes.
Right or left?
Or more aptly, whatβs left of whatβs right?
If you were titillated by this digital performance, you might finally reach orgasm from one of these.
Swipe Right and join The Good Citizen Flock.
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My completely natural teenage daughter looks at the other teenage girls around her and wonders how she can ever compete. I tell her not to worry, that boys prefer girls who look natural. But what do I know? I've been out of the dating game for decades. I can only hope there's a big enough pool of intelligent, thoughtful (and yes, un-poisoned) guys out there.
The bloom of youth forgives a lot of ill-considered faddish extremes. How many of these "enhanced" humans, once aging out of youthfulness will look at themselves in the mirror and see the sad clown they've become, have any number of surgeries to correct the mutilation, and finally book a ticket to the nearest location that allows medically assisted suicide?
Those garish balloon lips remind me of the candy wax lips, a shiny cherry red color, made by the American Candy Company in the early 1900's, though now they are made by the company that makes Tootsie Rolls.