“I’m an ass man. “
“Naah bro its boobs for me. “
Now of course, I, your cultured purveyor of random thoughts in sweet sweet, braincell killing packages am not as boorish as to partake in such objectifying conversation, but for the sake of perspective, you can label me an ass man. (For academic proposes of course).
It’s an incredibly visual world, it always has been really, all things considered, what with emperors and kings all the way from the great Mongol Genghis khan (true manly man if I do say so myself) to the rather long line of King Mswati’s in Swaziland bundling all the beauties in the land into their ever-expanding harems.
For the longest time, the privilege of objectification lay mostly in the hands of the male gender. It’s the twenty first century now however, and in the true spirit of equality the power of objectification has been spread to the fairer sex, we can now all cumulatively impose each other’s tastes on each other indiscriminately, no matter how heavy. (How did rule 34 go? If it exists or can be imagined, there is internet porn of it.)
In this oh so depravedly glorious age we live in, everything is someone’s sexual fetish. On a planet with seven billion humans, it makes a chill run down my spine to image what would happen, if a bored cosmic deity decided to have thought bubbles appear over everyone’s head, visible to everyone but themselves.
The effect the permeation of objectification into contemporary culture has had is enormous. tween girls screaming off the top of their lungs when, a Korean boy band member they might never see in real life, takes of their shirt should show how deep this runs. When their future selves are choosing boyfriends, it’s this level of face value that they will use as a yardstick.
Face value is a rather ethereal standard, some considered to have high face value are indisputably well-made specimens, while others make you wonder if the person drooling over that has different aesthetic structure systems from you. The bar can thus be high in the sky or so low as to be a tripping hazard in hell depending on what is in vogue in that region or at that particular moment.
Beautiful people abound on this blue rock of hours, and beholders with spice in their eyes even more so. Its interesting to think about how relationships would work if everyone was born blind, maybe all those people idolize personality so much could finally crawl out of the woodwork with pride. But seeing as I have the vested privilege of drinking in the sights of what the creative universes of the universe worked so hard to design, I’m going to sip tea and enjoy it. No losses for me either way no?