A place for a


Beauty and Vanity (Or: “Look at those beautiful lips!”, or: Is beauty circular reasoning?)

I’m starting to see what they mean by vanity and narcissism.

This unbearable flood of ‘portrait photographers’ doing fancy and yet totally predictable pictures of … you guessed right, usually women. And then they pat each other on their fleshy shoulders and say ‘Wow! Beautiful!’ and blah blah. And what’s beautiful? The soft skin? That’s not even real but photoshopped ‘in just the right amount! Well done!’. But even if it was, dig deeper. What is skin? It’s not some mysterious ungraspable thing. It’s a part of an organism. It’s some weird kind of tissue that’s totally susceptible to age, decay, rot, burn, being destroyed etc.

Like wistful children these photographers get attached to and worship the ephemeral state of female fertility. How pathetic. And it’s not even fertility they cherish. It’s the superficial symptom of fertility, so called ‘beauty’.

And they talk in their photographer jargon, proud of having learned all those great words with which they now analyze each others ‘great pictures’. ‘That’s great color grading you did there, but I feel like you get a little more microcontrast out of those near-black areas’ blah blah blah. Who are they doing it for? Normal people? Nah, normal people don’t see such detail. Normal people are usually almost insultingly ignorant towards finer details of an art. So they do it for each other. Photographers photograph for other photographers. But that sounds too selfless. They do it for the appreciation of their own photography by other photographers. But if a non-photographer cannot appreciate it, it is a learned appreciation, is it not? An appreciation of values that exist solely through the imagination that they exist. One has learned to look for photographs that abide by certain rules and now one perceives those abiding photographs as ‘beautiful’ or ‘nuanced’ or ‘with many facets’ or ‘deep’ or ‘thoughtful’ or ‘expertly’ or whatever.

‘And those beautiful full lips’ they say. And what are lips? They are the gateway to the mouth, through which endless streams of dead tissue, processed organic materials, and whatnot have traveled. Indeed, the mouth is almost less a symbol of procreation than it is one of destruction, devouring, and selfish self-sustainment. And the photographer worships those lips. Those lips the mouth behind of which hides more bacteria than an average toilet seat, as a dentist once told me.

How can you call on the beauty of something without simultaneously calling out its ugliness and banality? Does that not make you a hypocrite, a falsifier of reality? Yes, maybe that is what those photographers pride each other in – the skillful falsification of reality.

But what purpose does this falsification serve? Is it some noble cause that is achieved through its success? To hide the ugliness, is that noble? But then nobility in itself is nothing but the obfuscation of ugliness, so nobility is inevitably referential to and thus intrinsically linked with ugliness. So in fact nobility is a variation of ugliness, which renders it kinda pointless in that its goal is, in a paradox way, to eliminate itself.

And we see this clearly when we compare different cultures, times, fashions, all of which were once considered ‘noble’ or ‘beautiful’. What was once beautiful is today ugly and an offense to beauty. So beauty is at a constant anxious run from itself. Today’s beauty is already fearful of being revealed as ugliness tomorrow. And that’s what we fight wars for. To protect today’s beauty from becoming tomorrows ugliness. And for the same reason ugliness fights wars – to become tomorrow’s beauty.

Ironically, of course, today’s beauty hasn’t changed when it becomes tomorrow’s ugliness. It is still the same thing. But it no longer carries the symbolic notion of ‘beautiful’. Of ‘good’. Of ‘noble’. It is still the same and all the while it can no longer heighten its nose and look down on that which is unnoble while yesterday it still could. But it hasn’t changed.

So the identity of the thing has nothing to do with the thing itself and everything to do with the perception of itself. And of course it’s in panic. It struggles to be ‘beautiful’ and yet it has no control whatsoever over being that, because that ‘beauty’ seems completely divorced from what its existence is. And today this blob of flesh imagines itself to be some kind of epitome of ‘beauty’, to have some so-called ‘meaning‘ and being ‘special’ and tomorrow, while not having changed, it’s again only a blob of flesh again. And while that is its true nature, its the thing it most fears to be: A blob of flesh. It would rather be beautiful, while not even being quite sure what beauty really is, as all beauty seems to be nothing but the willful and sanctioned misinterpretation of its true nature. The idea that conceals the skin that conceals the flesh that conceals death. It desperately wants to be an illusion while keeping itself unaware of the fact that the illusion in itself is merely a perverted distortion of its own nature (and those who want to undistort the illusion are called evil Just how can you say I am not beautiful?). Maybe that’s why it’s called an illusion – it only holds up until you examine it and wonder what it truly is. How strange.

How strange that asking What is beauty? destroys the notion of beauty. That beauty may be nothing but the refusal to look closer and ask what you are really seeing. That beauty may be nothing but unexamined ugliness. Although without beauty, is there even a thing as ugliness? The beauty evaporates and is destroyed. And you may think that’s tragic. But then you may start to wonder what exactly has been destroyed. And you may not even be able to come up with an answer. You are mourning something without knowing what it is even supposed to be.

And the blob of flesh defends beauty like it would defend a flag. Not against destruction, mind you. But against not being revered, worshipped, deemed important, whatever that means. To say it’s just a piece of cloth is an insult of unimaginable grossness, while it really only reveals the true nature of a flag. Just like saying it’s just a blob of flesh is an insult. An unforgivable insult. It’s not just a piece of cloth! It’s a symbol of greatness! It’s not just a blob of flesh! It’s a human being! No, even human being is an insult. It’s not just a human being! It’s beautiful! One may wonder, though, is blob of flesh an insult to beauty? Or is beauty an insult to the blob of flesh, considering that the blob of flesh is the true nature of the thing? Can truth be an insult to a lie? On the other hand one may argue that a lie can never be an insult to truth. Because while the lie is ephemeral and ever-frightened, truth is everlasting and unafraid.

Uh yeah, what was I talking about originally? Seems I got lost writing some noble essay, hah.

2 votes
  • Deanie Dean

    Uncle Tom!

    You are saying all this, yet i’m sure blood has flown towards your pecker after seeing a nice fat ass and tits!

    And i’m sure you fucked one of em too, with great pride!

    Come off it mate , your in denial!!

    • Denial of what? Maybe you have misinterpreted what I was writing? What do you think I claimed?

      • Deanie Dean

        You are saying beauty doesn’t echnically matter right?

        I am sure you have admire, masturbated to , liked and fucked beautiful girls before right?

        Then why not fuck ugly girls! They are easier to fuck, will hold onto you for dear life as you are out of their league

        • No, what I am saying is that there is an ideal of ‘beauty’ going around which is abstract and meaningless and a mere intellectual abstraction of whatever reality has to offer. A kind of overanalyzed and extremely distorted repressed or transfigured sexual energy which makes an ordinary whore appear like an angel by channeling all that energy into the upper chakras, if you will so, creating an abstract and unreal ideal that is nothing but a denial of reality in itself. Where two lips that symbolize nothing more than vulgar and banal and fleshly desire to fuck become some weird kind of object of worship and nobility.

          Nowhere did I say there’s something wrong with a whore, though.

  • Jim Johnson

    I find it interesting how a man’s perception of beauty can be influenced by his peers. You see the plate lipped pictures on National Geographic, or those girls with the neck rings. Of course those are extreme examples, but is a woman getting silicone implants or multiple tattoos any less extreme?

    I admit, I like the look of full breasts, even if I know they are silicone (as long as it is not overdone). I like to look at a skinny waist created by a corset. I like to look at a girls ass that is uplifted by a pair of high heels. I like to see a girl who took the time to put on her makeup right and do her hair nicely. I like a woman to wear some nice perfume (Red Door or Chanel #5). I like a woman to put on a nice dress. Does that make me some sort of wierdo because none of it is natural?

    On the other side, Even though I am married, I work out and watch what I eat, I try to dress nicely, I put on Stetson or Old Spice cologne. I shave most days.

    All of this is a lot of effort, is it worth it? The answer is yes. My wife does all that (except the breast implants and corset). In doing so, we are more attracted to each other, even if it is fake.

    • Hm yes interesting point – maybe thats the whole point of life being a game

      You know I just saw another stupid article today of I think Nicole Kidman seeing an old picture of herself with a look that was “in” 30 years ago and she was embarassed of it

      Makes you think doesnt it – what you consider greatness today you will feel embarassed about 30 years from now – the question is only – is it because 30 years from now your standards are better and your senses more distinguished – or just because you have grown used to (been told to like) something different?

      And of course its not 100% fake – the feelings are real – in that sense every illusion has some amount of authenticity – but the point is I guess how much of that feeling is inherent in the thing itself and how much comes from a projection and mind-evaluation like in the example of fashion? If you can make yourself feel equally good about something totally different (and KNOW that you will change your taste anyway with the years) how can you justify being fully invested in what you are attached to right now? Hell maybe the answer is just not to overthink it who knows – but not obsessing over “beauty” or worshipping it like a replica-God I think thats something that my logic allows me to give as advice – to enjoy those luxuries without glorifying them perhaps

  • Bob Smith

    Tom, man, what are you up to. Guys are missing you around ROK (myself included). I perused some of the personal comments you have made on your own blogs, while you do the back-and-forth with commenters here. I hope you don’t stop blogging or expressing yourself. You have a lot to offer people. I know you feel the urge to express yourself – well, by doing that you will only get better at self-expression in whatever form you might choose (written, film, etc.). You’re such a young guy with what I consider to be prolific potential. So I hope you will try to express yourself in as many different ways as you can, without fear of reprisal. Fear is what fucks people up, my friend. Anyway, thought I would drop by and say howdy and wish you well. Cheers, mate.

    • Thanks, Bob. I’m okay I guess. A bit sad yeah, no I no longer have any other outlet than my blog whenever Facebook bans me for violating it’s “Community Rules to keep Facebook safe”. But I spend most of my time meditating anyway so there’s that.

      I’m gonna write a fun conspiracy article about the ambassador shooting one of these days, be sure to check back and tell me what you think of it.

      • Bob Smith

        Will do, buddy. That latest one, Anis somebody or other. Heh. “Anis”? These guys are jumping the shark…merry X-mas to you and keep writing dude! I like your style and your thoughts are really, really interesting. Instead of that boring, in-the-box shit.

        • Thanks, merry x-mas to you too (I mean of course happy “let’s buy surprise presents because it shows that we care for each other and not because the industry makes lots of money from selling stuff that the begifted person never actually wanted”).

          Yeah weird he would be called Anis – he didn’t even have to use the backdoor to get in after all. But I mean the Turkish one who shot the Russian ambassador.

          • Bob Smith

            Hahahaha! I read this guy’s work on how the agencies leave clues in their weird events. The guy’s name is Miles W. Mathis. He makes some great points. I can’t swallow his take on everything – he’s way out there, even for me – but like that dummy in the Nice video, this one appears to have all the earmarks of bullshit wrapped in Christmas paper as a “fuck you” gift by the MSM…ANIS? Come on, they can do better than that, can’t they? (The sad thing is, they don’t have to do better than that, people eat it right up.) Earlier, the CNN headlines went from “Suspected killer shot”, to “Anis Whatever-His-Name-Was” is shot, to “Terrorist shot”. Within about an hour. Man, that was one fast trial, conviction and execution. Heh.

          • I suppose this question will answer itself when my head gets clearer but here’s what I wonder, after having worked for a guy who published a little magazine: Is it a conspiracy that reaches into the media or is it simply a bunch of fat pig CEOs who don’t give a fuck about ideals like ‘journalistic integrity’ and are more ‘down to earth’, in other words: Whatever brings food on the table is good enough.

            When I still worked for the guy I remember an incident. Okay, you will laugh about how naive and wannabe-idealistic I was, but still fun mentioning. My boss wanted a Facebook plugin on his website and I was the designer/developer. We had a meeting with like 6 people in the room. And I was like ‘Dude, you can’t just use that plugin because it will send userdata from every visitor to Facebook, that’s not okay.’ The round of people looked at me with a mixture of pity and condescension (is there a difference?) and were basically like ‘Oh Tom, you gotta stop living in your dream world someday’.

            And in hindsight, I don’t think they were evil or had bad intents. Nah. They just didn’t give a fuck. Why? Because it didn’t even enter their minds to think about such ‘paranoid stuff’. They heard me talk and thought ‘Wow what a weirdo, too bad we need him’. You know, like the awkward guy at the company party who just can’t “relax” and “fit in” and has zero social skills but people have to put up with him because they need him.

            I can imagine it’s the same for the big corporations and media houses. They don’t plot. And if they plot, they don’t think anything bad of it. It’s just ‘hand washes other hand’ thing where friends support each other. They wouldn’t think about it more than I think about the cow that died when I eat a hamburger. And from my little experience with people from those corporations that seems to be how it is, kinda. They just want to have a relaxed job and not worry too much about it. They have no sympathy for arrogant nitpickers who question their ‘ethics’ and ‘morality’, like alphas have no sympathy for cock blocking betas and like I have no sympathy for a PETA activist when I eat my burger.

            Movies depict villains as super mean covetous greedy cold unlikable basterds who (for some strange reason) have gotten a lot of power. I think that in reality the opposite is true usually. It’s always the people you would never suspect it from. The ones who seem sympathetic and comfortable to be around etc. and whom you like to have as friends. And how could it be any different? No one follows an unlikable person. Maybe in the end evil is nothing but … stupidity? Ignorance? Or maybe none of those. Maybe evil is just the perception of those who fall out of favor with the group and suddenly experience the shadow side of the formerly comfortable hivemind.

            The same behavior of a person can seem comforting if you think of yourself as on that person’s side. But the same behavior can seem menacing and uncanny if you are on the receiving side. What formerly seemed as ‘fun and easy going’ suddenly looks like pure brainless and careless evil.

          • Bob Smith

            Well put…your writing is getting as smooth as silk. Slow it down, okay? My former 27-year-old self is experiencing bouts of beta-male ego-battering. But seriously, that was well-written. I don’t know, man. Thinking that there are no conspiracies…I grew up, lived and spent a lot of time around the people who plot them. I can see why a guy might look at it your way, but that is most likely because he hasn’t spent any time around the guys who run the world. We could chase our tails like dogs about this one, but it’s like one guy speaking Greek and another speaking Chinese. I will make this prediction. If you live long enough, you’ll see it clearly. Whether you end up rubbing elbows with elitists, mobsters, secret society members (and I’ve been around all three), or not.

            I believe I told you that I grew up in an NWO family. (At least I think I did tell you about that.) Well, either all of my male forebears were pulling some kind of stunt on me, and pretending to be working toward a One World Government, or they were on the level. (They were on the level.) All of the patriarchs in my family were Freemasons and/or Knights Templar (no, they didn’t disappear, the Templars, they just went underground). I spent a few formative years around mobsters. I saw how the world works from three perspectives that most men never get to experience.

            So I think it’s a matter of perspective. One guy is seeing it from his view on the mountain. Another guy, on the other side of the mountain, sees a totally different vista. The guy on the different side tries to describe it to the guy on the opposite side, and it makes no sense to him. He can’t see it. So naturally, he says, “That’s nuts.” I think it works that way for everybody as they experience things that others don’t experience, and climb to various positions on the ladder of awareness.

            But for someone to convince me that corporations, and other powerful groups, don’t plot, and don’t scheme, and don’t conspire – well, that means I spent all those years not seeing and experiencing what I saw and experienced. Nobody could possibly convince me of that one. For me, it would be like someone trying to convince me that all women are wonderful creatures, my vote matters, the news is accurate, and the sky is green. Heh. And…and…that’s all I have to say on that one. Except – Happy New Year, and I hope it’s a good one for you, good sir.

          • I see I see I was just trying to run my own experience against yours to see if they both match up – not claiming any real knowledge here just making a very uninformed extrapolation – in that sense I don’t think your analogy about perspectives applies – sure you can see one thing from two perspectives and get a different impression – but we two weren’t even looking at the same thing to begin with (I made an assumption about the thing you saw based on the thing I saw but they are separate beasts apparently) so it’s kind of a faulty logic

            Aaand I think I told you I’m allergic against compliments – I am literally getting a rash on my hypothalawhatnot right now

          • Bob Smith

            Okay man, your writing sucks and you will never, EVER, improve upon it! Heh. (Feeeeeel any better now???? ) Here’s a joke – why was the potato so introspective? Because he was a medi-tater. (Boo!)

          • That joke is fucking brilliant. I would post it on Facebook if I wasn’t blocked for posting an evil pseudo-nude joke.

            Yeah, much better. You know, a part of me is still a special snowflake that doesn’t want to need to improve, but just be okay the way it is. I dunno. No, I think the reason is that I get fucking paranoid when people are TOO nice to me and I start to suspect ulterior motives but I simultaneously feel guilty for thinking that way and that’s why I don’t like it – I need to sort that shit out (or not?).

          • Bob Smith

            Tom, if you think that you should sort it out, you probably will change your mind about it, after you think about it for awhile. Know thyself. You think it’s bunk, but you are what you are, and you are a Gemini – The Twins. (That’s just my opinion…accurate though it may be – heh.)


          • You’re confusing me with someone – I never said it’s bunk – I just don’t know if it is – and truth be told I never read a lot about this stuff so I wouldn’t even know how accurate it is

            Yeah thinking about it is a part but a big part of it is learning to feel myself too – I am very dissociated from my body due to pain and sometimes it feels like I have a million splintered personalities that I need to slowly “guide” back together and that’s definitely nothing to do with Gemini because I doubt every single Gemini was put through hell in childhood as I was – funny that I read somethng recently about MKUltra (didn’t even know that it was real and not just conspiracy bogus!) and what they do to create split egos/personalities in people and I weirdly could identify with it a lot – although I don’t think that it has anything to do with government in my case but who knows

          • Bob Smith

            Gives a whole new meaning to, “Mmmm…kay.”

          • Hah!

          • Bob Smith

            Steve wrote advertising copy for a local ad agency. Every Sunday, he would slip snarky lines into his copy. His boss didn’t like this one bit, and he finally called Steve out on it one Sunday afternoon.

            “Steve, why do you vent and snark on Sundays, whenever you write ad copy?” his boss queried.

            “Because I’m a Seventh-Day Ad-Ventist, you fucking idiot,” Steve replied.

          • Bob Smith


  • Smokingjacket

    You look at an oak, half naked, with the last remnant of leaves blowing in the December northerly breeze upon a Scottish moor and one thinks of its somber, solitary beauty. Beauty is such a peculiar resonate, but, the real sense of it belongs to the truth it conveys to oneself, that’s why false beauty is so ugly, namely because of thar immediate counterfeit value, which one perceives in the falseness of the perfect, cosmetic countenance of that counterfeit woman with her false fleshy lips.

    • But does your description and interpretation not already take away from its reality? Is it really somber, solitary, and beautiful? I am sure I would feel exactly the same way as you do – but is that because there is inherent truth in it or only because we two think alike? Because when you take away how you personally feel about it, all you see is a tree on a moor. It is not somber, it is not solitary, it is not beautiful, it is just a tree on a moor. Could you not get yourself to see the same beauty in a brick on the street?

      The question is: Am I overthinking it or are you overthinking it?

      Related cool comic: http://existentialcomics.com/comic/160

      • Smokingjacket

        No, if something like an isolated tree on a stretch of Scottish moorland is beautiful to our eyes, it’s surely because it includes the qualities of being more than merely “a tree on a moor” as you suggest above. It’s also a truthful representation of what it inherently is, it cannot be, but, be that “solitary tree” ? And that’s what makes it an object to behold surely?

        • And yet some people may find the solitaritude of the tree depressing and boring and not beautiful at all. Taste, personal emotional associations etc. One sees a beautiful solitary tree, another sees a boring crude land and just wants to get a coffee real quick. Then again when I see some tree in a park with brilliant fruits and happy people sitting beneath it and drinking and laughing, I am repulsed. But others would consider that the definition of beauty perhaps.

        • There is a beautiful German word for what I mean, it is “Verklaerung”. There is also a Richard Strauss piece called ‘Tod und Verklaerung’, which is translated as ‘Death and Transfiguration’. Transfiguration is the best translation and yet a terrible one.

          Today I listened to an old recording where my mother was present. I wanted to tell her ‘Shut the fuck up you fat stupid cow’, but I realized that I didn’t know any fitting words in the Czech language. It was terrible. There was something that needed to be said, but I had no words for it and there was nothing I could do. All I could do would be to invent a word and use it, start mumbling and screaming without ‘verbal coherence’. It would express the emotion, but it would make me look mad? Why? Because the emotion was mad or wrong? No. Because there was no word for it and if you don’t use ‘correct words’, you are called mad. Just thinking of the Christian ‘OMG HES SPEAKING IN TONGUE’.

          Made it so much clearer to me how well you can control a populace through language and the language’s value association of ‘sanity’. Just cut a word from the vocabulary and it will be as if the thing didn’t exist.

          • Smokingjacket

            Strauss wrote Tod und Verklaerung when he was a young man, unlike, his four last songs that were composed shortly before he died. It’s weird, perhaps naive, nevertheless the way we believe that only older people have insight into the meaning of death and the transcending of time?

            You’re correct about language, but, I’d reference what you say as a perfect example of Wittgenstein’s Private Language Argument in that outside of our everyday “Public Language” things can be said, but, not understood by others, who think such utterances are mad. Perhaps they’re not, but, maybe they’re authentic attempts to express the inexpressible which our everyday public language cannot truly capture or contain?

          • Evidently, as I would know how to say these things in English, but saying it in a context of my “home” with my mother would almost appear mad too! That said, it would be mad of me to talk to my mother at all now, nor do I care to. But still I like (or feel the need to) meditate on what I COULD and SHOULD have said. Or maybe just what I WANTED to say.

          • Hey, regards your first statement. Maybe the great artists spring forth exactly from the youths that experience a lot of pain and suffering early on while they still have enough time and mental fitness to develop the necessary skills to express those notions.

          • Smokingjacket

            The strange thing about Strauss is that he had an idyllic childhood. Even in later live after the whole Nazi episode and around this time (1946) he wrote four last songs, he was apparently very sanguine and content.

          • Also such a weird and common phrase … idyllic childhood. We often hear it in the beginning of a documentary or historic articles. ‘X Y had an idyllic childhood’. I have heard it so often that I consider it as empty a phrase as ‘In the modern hectic times …’. You know, just a kind of lubricant for your speech to show that you belong to the herd by virtue of sharing the same conditioning of bullshit phrases … the nobility of being able to speak pleasantly, but let one’s speech be without form and content, like water. Hah, that almost sounds like some kind of enlightened stuff, but I really just mean “bullshit”. Funny how thin the line between enlightenment theory and bullshit, eh? Wondering about that often lately. Maybe there is no line.

            Oh yeah back to idyllic childhood. Are we to imagine little Richard jumping over the majestic Germanic lawns in mindless joy like a retarded Bambi while the violins play happy spring songs and the birds fly around him and sing?

            Seriously, historians should stick to being historians and leave poetry to poets. How the fuck would they know if his childhood was idyllic unless they read his psychiatric records? So maybe they mean he lived in an idyllic neighborhood. Whatever that means! I mean, when we see a documentary about an ‘idyllic place’, we see nice camera shots and stuff – we never wonder how many days passed until the camera guy found the right spot and right weather to take this particular ‘idyllic shot’. I bet you that the most idyllic place probably looks like shit 80% of the time.

            But anyhow, even if the place was idyllic and let’s say he grew up in a noble family (yeah, I’ll spare you a sermon on that), that can at best say something about whether he was materially well off. It says absolutely nothing about whether his parents loved him or whether he had many friends (and if he had them, whether they were good friends – whatever that means).

            Now what else could we consult as source? Perhaps his personal accounts? Diaries? Statements by people who knew him? Oh please, half of that is probably just bullshit for a million reasons, the most obvious ones being that people tell bullshit that is ‘newsworthy’ just to get attention and second that people often hide their true personality to the outside world. I am one of the most fucked up people on this planet and yet I learned to make it appear to people like I’m a … well … nice guy. One of the nicest probably.

            So what, am I saying his childhood was terrible? Nah. I’m just ranting about the fact that we can impossibly know for certain how his childhood was – unless he lived and trusted us well enough to tell us the truth – but that would still be useless because we would have no way of knowing whether he trusts us enough to tell us the truth.

            If you get what I mean. Do I mean anything at all?

          • Smokingjacket

            You’re drunk? It’s Christmas, that’s allowed.

            Oh yes, the idyllic childhood. It does exist. It means to be free from the bullshit of the adult world. It doesn’t last long. It can’t. That’s nature, that’s time, that’s experience, and all the rest.

            Well, here’s a certain interpretation of Richard Strauss’s life. I think it will resonate with you!


          • I’m not drunk. I’m just a weird dude, dude.

          • Smokingjacket

            Get some sleep, remember Santa will be around soon, you don’t want to frighten him!

          • Oh I sure do – better than the other way around!