Purge Something

We live in a culture of sex. We’re preoccupied with sex and just about everything we do gives way to sex. Even the family is being tossed away for the one night fling. Sex is expected. It’s normal. It’s the one constant.

You turn on the TV and sex is everywhere. And I’m not just talking about sitcom single moms and their daughters sleeping with their respective boyfriends. I’m not just talking about the teeny-bopper dramas with the Dawson River kids sleeping in each others’ beds.

I’m talking about the Old Navy commercial where they strut around in loose, tight fitting clothing, selling sex. It causes men to ogle the models and wish their current fling dressed like that. It makes women feel inferior, feel the need to have the lowest hip huggers, the highest shirt, show off more skin. It’s the Bally’s commercial where the camera angle is designed to show butts and boobs sticking out like that’s the goal of exercise.

Walk around in any public place and you see a bunch of insecure people checking one another out. The girl’s wearing a tight fitting dress that barely covers her breasts and the guy on her arm is checking out the girl across the way, then chuckling about the last overweight passerby.

We have no shame. We have no integrity. We have the farthest thing from a healthy self image.

We’re convinced that beauty is in the eye of everyone else. We have to paint ourselves up, cram ourselves into the right outfits, and strut our stuff. No one seems to care about character, about personality. Bra size, waist size, and muscle mass is suddenly the key to relationships. Why do we even call them relationships anymore. They’re little more than encounters. Maybe even repeat encounters, at best. And we wonder why the divorce rate is so high. The only reason it isn’t higher is because people have stopped trying marriage, so there’s fewer people to end their marriages.

Beauty is a hard, tanned body and shuddering sex. Too bad the glossy pages of Playboy and the edited scenes of Cinemax are the farthest thing from reality. Instead we have playboy-bunny-wannabes laughing with their latest boy toy, sucking down fatty foods and purging in the bathroom while the hunk of the hour contemplates the intricacies of panty removal during the back-seat fandango.

Society needs to purge something else.

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