Last year, all I wanted to do was crack jokes about Hillary Clinton’s ever-smug face. Her daughter Chelsea, too. Throw in that awful Debbie Wasserman Shultz, and you’ve got a trifecta of ghoulish visages I was literally salivating to goof on. Caricature unflatteringly, at the least.
And I didn’t.
While the entire media industry decided to make fun of Donald Trump’s face, like a bus full of second-graders, I didn’t stoop to their level. And oh, they had a field day. They’re still doodling him as an anus, or a Cheeto. I’ve seen that illustration of Trump as a shit-spattered baby so many times I could forge it from memory.
Suddenly I’m glad that I didn’t say Hillary Clinton looks like a lich, or a bat-winged virago, or a dessicated succubus. It’s a good thing that I didn’t rage about Hill and Chelsea’s hideous maws, forever agape, sucking at some acrid, unseen membrane. I’m better off not remarking on how my respect for Patton Oswalt evaporated, when he Tweeted that Hillary Clinton staggering and puking at the dais was “badass”.
It would only make me look bad.
You’ve probably heard the expression “you’re mistaking kindness for weakness”. Politicians, like Hillary Clinton, take advantage of kindness. They dare you to call them ugly, knowing full well they are, and then label you the monster when you speak the truth. You should be used to this game by now.
Out of personal kindness, I have a policy; unless I am deliberately being impolite, I try never to harshly criticize any part of a woman’s body. Never. It is not done. This is part of striving to be (my loose approximation of) a gentleman.
If you’re a heterosexual man, and after you’ve been intimate with a woman, you later share your negative appraisal of her physical being with other men; shame on you. A single wrinkle or stretch mark can be the Grand Canyon to a woman on her own flesh. Especially if she has an old picture posted, where she thinks she looks “better”. Which, guess what; everybody does now.
Stretch marks on women are typically the evidence of explosive pubescence. Sometimes girls get “curves” so rapidly, the force of their blossoming leaves tiny divots. Almost all women have some stretch marks on their boobs or hips. This is wonderful, fantastical and awesome. They’re like secret, girls-only fingerprints. Human female topography. Anyone who tells you different hates the female body. For crying out loud, people celebrate stretch marks caused by pregnancy, and those are gross, in my book. (Not really.)
You don’t see wrinkles and stretch marks on old Playboy centrefolds because those women were lit softly in an environment that highlighted their natural color spectrum. They were photographed with expensive analog cameras, on film that had to be carefully developed by professionals. Once image quality began to improve, airbrushes were utilized to cover blemishes and “imperfections”. Then, as with all magazine photography, everything went bloodless Photoshop.
So now, some jerkoff sees a real woman unclad, and it looks bad to him. He goes to Thailand and shags a ladyboy, like it’s a reclamation of his lost masculinity. Or he buys a “Real Doll”, at great expense, with flawless, PVC “skin”.
I always forget who Kellyanne Conway is. All I know is that on a daily basis, she is unfavorably (though hilariously) compared to Denis Leary, the Crypt Keeper, or Eddie from the Iron Maiden album covers. Mostly these insults come from the very people who abode no criticism of their fated Queen, Hillary Clinton. “Male feminists”. Closet gynophobes.
Almost the entire 2016 Democratic National Convention was botched by incompetent women, who might as well have been installed as a suicide measure by their opponents. You can’t call Debbie Wasserman Shultz on her bullshit: she’s a woman, and Jewish. Ditto for Donna Brazile: she’s a black woman. They could double-team a newborn infant in a mosque, and their men will all cluck about how we shouldn’t be quick to judge. And cluck they will; the women in question don’t have to do or say anything.
Except with Kellyanne Conway. Then it’s okay to judge, right?
Okay. Let me judge Kellyanne Conway.
I’ve lived in the South since 1990. I’ve been to Texas; the longest engagement of my life was to a Texas girl. I’ve encountered probably a thousand women just like Kellyanne Conway. Same hair, same body, same lived-in face.
That’s what that is- a lived-in face. You don’t see them anymore because they’re shunned in Hollywood; the exact opposite of what made Hollywood great in the first place. And yeah. Hollywood used to be great. So did America. That’s why literally everything you look at on the Internet is related in some way to pre-1990’s American culture. Am I wrong?
You no longer hear about Saturday Night Live based on how funny it is. It’s because a female staff writer or female cast member almost got fired for something. The live audience is all paid plants; they’re not there because they flew in from out of town to see the show. They’re paid to laugh. Look at how hard SNL tried to convince the world Leslie Jones was funny or interesting. You don’t even know who I’m talking about. You’re trying to remember which girl joked about Barron Trump. They didn’t fire her, though! Don’t worry; SNL wouldn’t dare fire a nice lady!
It’s not like that show has been worth watching in a decade, right?
Back to Kellyanne Conway.
She reminds me of women who have the following things in common.
- They make the best of the hand they’re dealt as far as looks go.
- They’ve heard it all, and tune out insults. Tune out. It doesn’t register.
- They’re tougher than guys under the right circumstances.
- Other women hate them with the fire of a thousand suns.
In this ga-ga rush to make everything “equal”, even where they cannot be, we steamroll over politeness. People ridicule Kellyanne Conway’s looks because they are different from the last woman. That’s the bottom line. That’s why you should keep your mouth shut. You only want to make fun of someone because they made fun of who you liked. They’re just the excuse for your ignorance. “They did it first” is no validation for lowering yourself.
Still, say whatever you like about Kellyanne’s face. She clearly doesn’t care, and she’s the one wearing it.
You’re the one focusing on it.
[Note the paltry view count on that video, as well as the low numbers on the same video uploaded around. Take it from one who knows: those are “give up” numbers.]