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The Eye of the Beholder

Med Gold

The Eye of the Beholder

Yesterday I was pretending to listen to a girl speak and I couldn’t stop noticing the curvature of her upper lip. I was sitting next to her so I had a full side angle of her face. I couldn’t stop noticing how perfectly curved her upper lip was. I’m not talking about her Cupid’s Bow either: it was the curve that extended from the bottom of her nose to the top of her upper lip. I realized this was one of the many things that made her face so sexy to me. I tend to look at women in this way, very objectively, and I like to understand exactly what it is I find attractive about them, out of my own curiosity. I don’t look at them like they’re in a petri dish, but I am definitely checking them out as I see fit. If I feel like escalating the situation, I will articulate what it is that I find attractive about them (not all at once of course, these compliments are like weapons and you don’t want to run out of ammo). Anyway, what I just described is not simping, and if you think it is simping then perhaps you should skip to the next article.

Beauty is objective and measurable. I’d like to say “You know it when you see it”, but that is clearly not the case, because not all men have been blessed with the eye for fine taste. Some men like fat women. Some men have a knee-jerk desire to call every hot girl “mid” just to take them down a peg. I find this strange. They don’t get it. In the same way I believe that the communist spirit is hereditary (source: “I made it up”), I believe that certain straight men were born with vision that is capable of detecting beauty, the spirit to yearn for it, or the balls to approach, seduce and own that which is Beautiful and Excellent.

Measurement of beauty is a scientific and mathematical endeavor; I don’t find it particularly interesting. Out of sheer curiosity, it didn’t take me very long to find a study that correlates upper lip curvature with attractiveness. But I don’t find these things worth sperging out over. I find them boring and dry. I find it more interesting to know what it is that you, personally, find beautiful and sexy, and to go find it and obtain it.

Taste evolves. What you may enjoy in one phase of your life may not be what you’re into later in life. Using myself as an example, I used to like light-skinned, volatile Latinas, but as I grew older, had more responsibilities, and less patience, I grew tired of their chimping. “Latinas are a young man’s game.” I now prefer thinner, slender women, who are more feminine and elegant in nature.

The thinner a woman is, the more I can get a sense for what their body was meant to be, which of course has a limit. I do not like women who are so thin that they look unhealthy – please let this be known to pro-ana and #thinspo Twitter. However, in the same way that Arnold’s peak physique was who he was meant to become, a woman at her thinnest and healthiest is who she is supposed to become. I don’t believe that women are supposed to be packing on muscle or lifting for gains. I find this masculine and a psyop by Big Tranny. At most, women should be lifting lightly, simply for practical reasons to protect and maintain their bones and joints, and of course to become more toned.

Anyway, I digress. Back on topic: ugliness is everywhere. That’s what’s “in” now and has been for some time, rapidly increasing since the death of Curious George. The fatter you are, the less class you have, the more you depart from the beauty norms of our great civilization, the higher you will be ranked by those who control the falling West. This disgusts me, and many of us to no end, and I want to smash it all into a trillion pieces, burn it and then put the ashes into an urn and place it so far underground it reaches that it reaches China, where it belongs.

“Well, that’s great Med. You hate that which is ugly and you like that which is beautiful. So you’re the one, huh?” Trust me, I have a point here.

How to counter all of this ugliness? My answer is unpopular yet struck a chord with many, as tends to be the case with my takes. I don’t think conservativism is the answer right now. In Aritsotle’s Golden Mean, he believed that to achieve equilibrium you have to go from one end of the spectrum to the other. Right now we are obviously at the far end of the left side of the spectrum and I hate to say this, but that spectrum does not have an endpoint, and there is no reason to think it cannot go even farther left. In the short-term it certainly will. But those of us who are blessed with the DNA to detect Beauty are not just on RW Twitter. Many who are not in our sphere also have the eye for Beauty as well. They want more women that are so hot they can barely think. They want to be consumed by their desire. This is becoming harder and harder to find. This isn’t exactly a controversial take; this is quite normal and indeed quite lindy.

Yes, we all would love for women to dress and act like they did in the 50’s. That’s the equilibrium and is sustainable for building functional societies. But we’re not there yet. Right now we need to go to the other side of the spectrum. The other side of the spectrum is a level of sexiness which can only be described as Ruthless. For women to be owning that which is sexy about them and to mog fat, hideous, blue-haired lunatics with it. To rub their noses in it. Yes, this means women wearing less clothes. This means women accentuating and showing off what is hot about them. Turning heads. Double takes. I like to imagine a supermarket filled with fat disgusting Amerigoblins slowly pushing along their own mass as they look for the next bag of zogchow, barely conscious, only to see the French Tantot twins strutting in their bikinis, shamelessly having fun and giggling as they shop for this week’s haul of oranges and ice cream because they’ve been following these funny racist health nuts on Twitter. “Hehe, it’s Peaty!”

“But Med, clearly this is self-serving. Your vision ends in you seeing more hot women. More for you, at the risk of all which is dignified, polite and refined.”


But also, I do believe that culturally this is the correct response, because this kind of ruthless sexiness will awaken men who are tired of this. It will grab their attention, send a rush of blood to their dick and perhaps inspire them to make a move, to increase the Fuck Rate if you will. I believe there is a void of places where very attractive people can mingle, where rigid guidelines are set for who is allowed to be a member. Imagine going on an interview to a country club but it’s a cocktail bar pool house and they ask you to lift up your shirt and measure your BMI before they even start asking questions. Imagine bringing your girl with you and they check her arm circumference before asking if she’d like a cup of water. Then if you’re allowed in, the host is always a 9 and the bus boys are physique mogging you. The food is excellent, the cocktails are top notch. The ambiance is sexy and alive. This is entirely possible. Like Soho House, but fascist. Aristocracy is hereditary, and men of that stock should have underground places to meet each other and perhaps plan things together. We are living under a new kind of Prohibition, a Prohibition of hotness. It’s time to start building the speakeasies.

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