Pardon him, Theodotus; he is a barbarian, and thinks that the customs of his tribe and island are the laws of nature.
– Caesar, Caesar and Cleopatra
It is cruel. that so many people never blossom into real beauty because they are inhibited by people who disapprove of them for not measuring up to the standard of physical perfection of the age in which they live.
So on Tuesday, whilst on my work lunch break, and for want of anything better to read, I snatched a peek at my work colleague’s Sun…
…and got a stark reminder of why I don’t pay money to read that rag!
Taking up a whole page, a featurette entitled ‘Is She Really Going Out With Grim?’ showcased so-called mismatched couples; in this case women of delectable features paired-up with blokes who don’t fit into the conventional ideals of male beauty, otherwise known as—in Sun journo-diction—”the Ugly Blokes”. As expected, the whole tone throughout the verbiage (surrounded by pictures of pretty birds coupled with these “Grims”) amounted to: “Why, why WHY!?!? WHAT THE FUCK IS SHE THINKING?!? IZ SHE BLIND!?111111 OMFG?!?!111111”.
Faced with this display of rancid ugliness (and by that I mean the words, not the pictures), I thought to myself: Why, why, why? Are you even thinking? Are you massminded fucks even capable of such?
I’d laugh at this situation if I didn’t find it so tragic: slow-day news journos, beauty and cosmetics “experts”, male and female chauvinists, Objectivists and Satanist reactionaries all trying to codify the Rules of Attraction for one and all. Each of them desperately trying to categorize a segment of the elephant as the entirety of the beast; whether it be the beauty mag editor who photoshops un-templated curves and bulges off their cover models or the knee-jerk “anti-size-zero” crowd who seem to have achieved volume as of late.
True believers and mass deceivers, all.
Thus our tabloid troll, in their bilious bemusement, assumes an unwarranted universality in matters of taste. Proof of their presumptuousness? Why, the very pictures ironically used to support said presumptions! Obviously Avril Lavigne rather likes Deryck Whibley’s visage, seeing as they’ve been married for the last two years (a Golden Wedding Anniversary by celebrity standards!); ditto for the females of the other couplings.
Someone might counteract me with theories about money, status, and fame being great attractors in the absence of aesthetics, or, in the manner of our underworked, overpaid columnist, they might sneer, “He must have a great personality.” They may well be right about this in certain cases – I can’t read minds on this one. Nevertheless, I’m gonna be audacious enough to say that maybe, just maybe, a physical attraction plays at least some part in powering the union. After all, why share bed and body with some one who doesn’t turn you on, never mind someone who positively repulses you (unless your own masochism turns you on)?
Don’t misunderstand: I certainly have an aesthetic appreciation for certain women who fit the media-definition of fitness. Others who fall into the same bracket, leave me feeling cold and “Meh!”; and I’m sure The Sun swine would have a good old teenage whinge ‘n’ cringe fest about a few of my other fancies.
Then again, going by personal observation, the target audience of The Sun probably shouldn’t hold their breath for Cosmo, Maxim, or GQ to come a-knocking, begging for a cover shoot (the fact I find the workmate I mentioned good-looking notwithstanding). Seeing how the paper supposedly reflects the views of “the people”, it wouldn’t surprise me if the faces behind the fonts blended similarly into the social fabric.
In response the laws of nature—that is, the working process of attraction as is—the blinkered, binary-worshipping, bile-filled barbarians bleat, “Why why, why?”
In response to their response, I ask, “Why the fuck not?”