I sort of don’t want to say anything until you watch this new “app.”
Okay, now that you’ve watched it, you get what I mean, right?
You see, I thought it might just be impossible to: 1. degrade women further in popular culture; 2. make men seem more loutish and brutish than they already appear in popular culture.
But I was so utterly and entirely wrong that I’m feeling just a little bit embarrassed about my own naivete right now.
Because once you’ve learned from a student, as I did today, that any person with a certain kind of hand-held device who feels he is in a big hurry to meet women can now classify them instantaneously into 24 types and then get immediate pointers — sort of like sexual Cliff Notes — on how to “score” with each one, want to know what happens?
You realize you know you can’t keep up with your usual level of cynicism anymore. That leaves you with a sense of loss. It really does.
I learned that when young men (Oh, good heavens, I presume these are indeed very young men? Please tell me they are very young men, like young enough to be wearing pajamas with feet and writing with crayons) secure the favors of their prey, the app encourages them to report back to other men about their adventures.
You can’t make this stuff up. Compared to this, the Shakira “She-Wolf“ video was a Feminist Manifesto, like Bella Abzug rallying ERA voters or Andrea Dworken explaining her opinion about heterosexual intercourse (not fun).
Actually, compared to the level of cynicism about women demonstrated by this application, Enimen sounds like Dr. Phil.
These are not guys looking for feminine companionship; these are hyenas at a kill. Not lions at a kill, guys. Hynenas.
And yet I bet this will turn into one of those “ha-ha, c’mon-honey-can’t-you-take-a-joke?-see?-women-have-no-sense-of-humor” traps where to engage with the issue in any significant detail is to sound shrill and sanctimonious.
So I won’t. (I have midterms to grade.)
I’ll simply let the app speak for itself.
And I’ll remind myself, when passing a beverage center, that somehow this whole process of finding a girl and classifying her in two seconds or less and feigning interest in her most sacred passions involves drinking a Pepsi product called “AMP.”
Remind me not to purchase any Pepsico products, will you? I think there’s an app for that. Thanks.