Women don’t get to define female beauty

I’ve got lots of ideas knocking around my skull, but it sometimes takes external stimuli in order to get them out of my head and in comprehensible form – like this catty blog post by real-life libertarian girl Ilana Mercer concerning Christian martyr-cum-amateur porn star Carrie Prejean:

“Blond Squad” is a synonym here for the conservatives’ chick of choice. She can be brunette, although that is not preferable. She has to be dumb.

Prejean’s looks comport with what I’ve termed the porn aesthetic. She is most certainly not beautiful.

Those who’ve been conditioned to consider beautiful women who look well-used, cheap, unrefined, and whorish even in their youth will object. But you only have to think of Audry Hepburn, or the bare-faced Julie-Christie to remember what natural, striking beauty is.

Following Mercer’s link leads us to a post where she defines the “porn aesthetic“:

…they represent what I call the porn aesthetic the essence of which is not true sensuality or real physical beauty, but something that corresponds to the lowest form of sex. They are pornographic phenoms theirs are faces that men want to see on hookers; on women they have plain crude sex with. They look well-used, cheap, unrefined, and whorish even in their youth.

That post serves as a teaser for this column she wrote for WorldNetDaily, “Sluts Galore: Scenes from 2006”:

Ideas about feminine beauty are bust. The sublime 1350 B.C. bust of Queen Nefertiti showcases her fine cheekbones and graceful neck. Her Western contemporary look-a-like, down to the perfectly shaped dainty face, was Audrey Hepburn. Catherine Deneuve embodied the French ideal of female beauty, immortalized in the bust of Marianne.

But forget these regal beauties; they, apparently, have nothing on the double-chinned, large, flat expanses that make up Britney Spears’ crude mug. Nefertiti, Hepburn, Deneuve—your patrician pulchritude no longer excites the “porn generation”; the sly, weasel-like looks of a Paris Hilton do.

The culture’s aesthetic preferences are now shaped by the basest of instincts. I call it the porn aesthetic, another example of which is Hue Hefner’s harem of hos. The three kept creatures are currently starring in a reality show called “The Girls Next Door.”

According to Wikipedia, “The prototype of the girl next door is often invoked in American contexts to indicate wholesome, unassuming, or ‘average’ femininity.” Like Ali MacGraw in “Love Story,” perhaps? Hef’s hos have bleached, cotton-candy hair, augmented by extensions, silicone breasts, and demented, syphilitic grins. But according to an entirely new sensibility, they are the girls next door.

So, according to Miss Mercer, Carrie Prejean isn’t beautiful because she looks like a woman that men instinctively want to bang, and Audrey Hepburn IS beautiful because she looked like a woman that men instinctively DIDN’T want to bang. That’s a statement so retarded only a libertarian woman could argue it in earnest.

Both Roissy and Obsidian have argued in the past that women, not men, determine which males are alphas in the context of mating and sex. The flip side of this, by way of Spengler’s Universal Law of Gender Parity, is that men, not women, determine which females are beautiful. The primary purpose of female beauty is to help us men determine who is most worthy of receiving our sperm-missiles, and the yardstick we use to measure it is the penis. The harder the dick, the hotter the girl – it is that simple. To demonstrate how Mercer is incapable of grasping this concept (like most women), here’s her picture of the girl she claims “is most certainly not beautiful”:

Carrie is a bit more masculine then I’d like, but I’d still hit that and come back for seconds, thirds, and fourths – and so would most normal, non-outlier (read: not David Alexander) dudes. She’s an 8.

Here’s Audrey Hepburn, a woman Miss Mercer singles out as an example of “natural, striking beauty”:

Audrey’s no slouch face-wise, but she had a body like a prepubescent boy. 7.

And here’s Mercer’s other example, Julie Christie:

I’d hit it…with six beers in my system and to break a dry spell. 5, possibly a 6.

Now, I’m sure some of you are thinking, “Ferdinand, you reductionist, cock-centered, evo-psych-loving pig-dog, you’re wrong! In past epochs, women’s beauty was determined by higher concepts then what men got off to!” Take your romanticist golden age crap and stick it where the wind breaks. The female beauty ideal has always been determined by what men wanted to nail, as Lynne Lawner wrote in Lives of the Courtesans:

Falling in love with statues and paintings, even making love to them is an ancient fantasy, one of which the Renaissance was keenly aware. Giorgio Vasari, writing in the introductory section of the Lives about art in antiquity, tells how men violated the laws, going into the temples at night and making love with the statues of Venus. In the morning, priests would enter the sanctuaries to find stains on the marble figures.

Yes, that’s right. Those beautiful Greek marble statues that are supposedly symbolic of a higher ideal of beauty? Guys were so turned on by them that they dry-humped them and shot their sticky loads in their crevices. I hope that visual is permanently burned into your brain. And all of those paintings of beautiful women from the Renaissance? They were the jerk-off fantasies of the men who created them. Yes, we of the male species really do think with our little heads that much.

Now, if Miss Mercer wanted to argue that women are becoming less feminine, I’d agree. If she wanted to argue that women are becoming more crass and vulgar, I’d wholeheartedly agree. But the cock doesn’t care about a woman’s class or behavior; it just wants a nice, warm, attractive place to snuggle for the night. Mercer’s notion of “true” female beauty springing from something other then what men want to fuck is pure bullshit. Her vision blinded by female solipsism and her mind dulled by historical ignorance, she can’t help but get it wrong.

And, ladies, if you think it’s unfair that we get to determine what we find attractive in you, keep in mind that it’s also unfair that you get to determine what you find attractive in us. We can’t help our dicks any more then you can help your pussies. This is the Age of Flesh, where the desires of the loins rule all. I don’t make the rules, I just point them out.