wickeddd

 
Katılım: 24.05.2007
Sonraki seviye: 
Points needed: 13

Measure of beauty ?

I wont argue with the notion that everyone has a different definition of beauty - it can be supported by a very basic understanding of human nature; what one finds appealing/pleasing to the eye doesn't necessarily have to effect another in a similar fashion.

I do however, have a problem with the standard set for "beauty" in today's society. Yes, I am referring to the way beauty is percieved and presented by the media. Let's have a look around us. An advertising pop-up of a fitness regime, a billboard for GUESS! clothing line, or better yet a Fashion Television update for the Fall 06 runway show for Gucci or (insert a famous designer name). Is it just me or a majority of these models extremely thin? These girls are so thin, you could count their ribs without having to use any marvels of modern science.

These very models, and others of who share similar physical traits and an uncanny resemblence are featured in magazines which are targetted for purchase by the general public. I'm certain every female at some point has flipped through a fashion magazine. Would you agree with me when I say, readers are bombarded with images of these bikini-clad stick figure-isque models page after page? Advertisment today has taken an extremely aggressive approach.

Clothing stores, well the reputable ones anyway, have eleminited sizes which are above a certain measurement. Reputable designers design their outfits to fit these models who look like they survive on a rich dose of oxygen sprinkled with fumes of carbohydrates and images of steaks and french fries. Seriously, how healthy are you when your skin is merely a layer over your bone structure? And when these are the kind of images, women are bombarded with in the magazines they read in their spare time, on TV, and billboards everywhere else, it's only natural that the "weight loss" industry is a booming 4 billion dollar business annually. Staggering, isn't it ?

What's sad is not that older, more reasonably aged women and females are being targetted by the media. It's females of all ages who're caught up in this whirlpool of modern "beauty". I personally know girls as young as 13 who resort to crash diets and strict carbs only diets to keep their weights in check (under a certain limit), or they feel "fat" because I guess the more ribs you can count these days looking in the mirror the better you look?

Why are women so unhappy? At this point in time, women are making more money than they ever did! They should be happier than they've ever been, but they're not. How many women do you personally know, or you (female reader), who yourself complain about their weight, appearance, lack of designer apparel?

Women love to boast about how liberal they are in this age in time, and how much more successful they are today than women had ever dreamed of in the past. But, I look around and I see women, as unhappy if not unhappier than their ancestors were. I see women today, and I still see oppression. I see oppression greater than ever before. The stakes are higher, the playground is bigger...but they're still oppressed, self concious, lacking confidence. I wish, there were more women who were comfortable in their own skin...and were happy with what they are naturally.


Idols Share

We Idolize those, who fought and died for everything we live for. Oh, the irony!

"Ernesto Guevara de la Serna (June 14, 1928 – October 9, 1967), commonly known as Che Guevara or el Che, was an Argentine-born Marxist revolutionary, political figure, and leader of Cuban and internationalist guerrillas. As a young man studying medicine, Guevara traveled roughrough[›] throughout Latin America, bringing him into direct contact with the impoverished conditions in which many people lived. His experiences and observations during these trips led him to the conclusion that the region's socioeconomic inequalities could only be remedied by revolution, prompting him to intensify his study of Marxism and travel to Guatemala to learn about the reforms being implemented there by President Jacobo Arbenz Guzmán." (wikipedia)

You walk down to the cafetaria to hang out with your buddies, wearing a t-shirt with "Che's" infamous mug. I hear you talking to your friends as they point out the obvious, " Yeah, man! he's my hero, he stood against injustice and inequality, he's so my role model". And then you direct their attention to your newest Pumas (Made in China - by Huan, who gets paid $0.50 a day). You zip up your American Eagle hoodie, the one you purchased last thursday (Made in Pakistan - by Suleman, 9 years old, lives in a foster home, gets paid $0.15 for a day's labour, hasn't had a shower in week, and can't even recall the last time he went to bed with a stomach full of food).

But here you are, a self-proclaimed protege of "CHE". Oh, how you'd make him proud if he were alive to witness today. Please don't look so shocked at the revelation of Suleman and Huan's wages. It's not a secret, or an underground propaganda against the multi-billion dollar corporations. Hard facts, pretaining child labour are right infront of your eyes. Billboards, websites, magazines, newspapers, TV shows and so much more. All you have to do is, look.

You just decide to ignore this ugly side of the world you live in, because...well! it's convenient, right? It's easier to just change the channel when a program discussing such a sensitive issue is on. It's so much more easier to simply flip over to the celebrity news, or the sports section when an article about the inhumane treatment of sweatshop workers, child labour or child prostitution is published.

Hey, wait now! How's child labour and child prostitution even on the same page, you ask. Well, how is it not? 
A 11 year old working in a sweatshop from dusk till dawn for a mere $0.20 cents a day, is surely interested in it for a career, eh? Sad reality of it is, the 11 year old has no choice. Circumstantial submission, remember this term. 

Now, replace the "sweatshop" in the paragraph above with a "child prostitution ring". You get the idea. 

I'm not saying, don't enjoy your life because there's so much poverty, so much cruelty and injustice in this world. You are privelleged enough to live in a society where you're not forced to work in a sweatshop for a fraction of a dollar at an age when you shouldn't have a care in the world. Just don't ignore it. 

Don't promote child labour. It's no different than promoting child prostitution. Just, don't pretend to idolize a man who stood against everything you stand for. Don't say you want to be like Che when you could easily pass off as the spokesperson for (insert your favourite brand), looking like a carbon copy of (insert name of a celebrity) - minus the jaw dropping good looks, the money and glitz. That's not what Che stood for.

For every $100 you dish out on the newest Nike sneakers, donate $20 to someone who hasn't even got a pair of slippers to walk in. For every $400 you spend on a Louis Vuitton purse, donate $50 to a girl who's dying of pneumonia because she didn't even have a shirt to cover her belly.

Really, is that too much to ask?


The Battlefield

As I start writing, with this pen in my hand I feel a power come over me, a feeling of immense strength and courage. I feel like a God; an ancient Greek war God, with this power, to make a blank, worthless piece of paper worth a thousand thoughts, unleashing these demons of thought all over it.

This paper is my battlefield, my pen is a mighty sword, and my words are an army. I am up against you, your thoughts, your beliefs, your morals, your every basic instinct. Here on my battlefield, I never lose. Here on my battlefield, every strike of my mighty sword is powered by an army so strong it pierces right through your eyes, leaving a mark all over your able senses. Every word you read and agree with, you’re submitting to my army, making it stronger than before. Every word you read and disagree with, my army and demons leave their mark on you, leaving you conflicted. Like an unarmed soldier, just another breath away from an incoming onslaught of a hundred bullets. And, if you throw this page away, it will still remain. This army will keep on marching. You however, will be guilty of a forfeit - ran away from a fight, a sore loser.

There are millions of these battles taking place, at any given day, at any given time. You are willingly, yet unknowingly taking part in these battles and losing miserably, making the war lords stronger, everyday. Every piece you read about a rebellion against the do-gooders of the world, in a god forsaken part of this planet that we choose to ignore. Every newspaper article condemning a way of life that falls out of the well outlined boundaries of our so called, free-willed, democratic, nature friendly, morally strong society. Any literature with a hint of dethroning a religion of its grass roots, or any literature demonizing our basic instincts labelling them a threat to the “moral fibre” of our faith for that matter. Every water bottle label you read, every letter you receive in the mail, every advertisement you see on television, paid for by a charitable organization requesting your contribution, every health and safety public message, every history book ever written, and everything you have ever read. A battle waged, and gloriously won by the war lord holding the all mighty sword. Yes, you lost.

Why?

Because, the concept of free-will in a society with laws and government is as laughable as a multiple choice test on quantum physics with no right or wrong answers. Because you are enslaved, by a system that is your own creation. A system intended to work towards your welfare and prosperity, now depends on your compliance.

Because, your definition of paradise is exactly what your world was once. Because your taste for a slice of heaven on earth, comes with life lasting side effects of, jobs you don’t want to do, clothes you don’t like to wear, smiling when you want to cry, staying up when you want to sleep, travelling when you want to be around the ones you love, eating what you don’t desire, and wishing to be exactly the opposite of what you are. Because, you would rather donate some pocket change to charitable organizations so you don’t feel bad about not feeding a starving child. Because, you have accepted defeat, at the hands of your own, morally strong, politically correct, eco - friendly system you have the gall to call a civilized society.

Why are you always rushing to be somewhere? Why are you always looking at your watch? Checking your e-mails constantly, always fiddling with your cell phone to make sure you don’t miss a call, scrolling through your blackberry so you don’t miss a single mass notification sent out. As if you are running out of time. Why are you scrambling through your day? Why are you skipping over your health, family, and urges? So, you can always stay a step ahead in a timeless, endless race?

When will you stop? When you start skipping meals, so you can have more time to meet the project deadline? When you skip your loved ones’ birthdays, so you can put a smile a clients’ face? When you miss your grandmothers’ funeral because, you are already running out of time to submit your project on time, and missing two days would leave you in a hole you would have to claw out of for weeks?

Or, will you stop when sleep becomes a luxury? When you don’t even sit to enjoy your food? When you spend more time at work/school than you do at home? When you only see a beach on a screen? When darkness can’t slow you down, because progress is only a light switch away? When rain becomes a hurdle, instead of a natural wonder? When you consume chemicals to keep from falling asleep? So, what’s next? Say, a sky constructed under the sky, always bright with florescent? Maybe, find a way to download dreams and images of vacations so you don’t even have to walk away from your desk.
You are at war, that you’re losing everyday. So, why go down without putting up a fight? Why just read, write something. Why keep losing? Win something. Create your own battlefield. Be a war lord.

Time is running out. Time is really running out to make your life count. So, sit down and enjoy your next meal, while you can still tell apart a chicken breast from a steak. Slow down when you find yourself walking fast to keep up with everyone around you and look up in the sky, catch an eyeful while it is there. Because, every second you live to witness another, you are just dying. That continuous dim beep you hear when it’s dead silent, that is your ability to hear fading. That blur of see-through abstract lines and dots you see moving down across your eyes when you stare up in the clear sky, that’s your vision diminishing. Those freckles and moles on your skin, sure you can call them beauty marks, but that’s your skin dying, each cell at a time. The clock is ticking, and you lost, yet again.


Freedom

If enough people looked at you, you'd never need anybody's attention ever again.
- If someday you were caught, exposed, and revealed enough, then you'd never be able to hide again. There'd be no difference between your public and private lives.
- If you could acquire enough, accomplish enough, you'd never want to own or do another thing.
- If you could eat or sleep enough, you'd never need more.
- If enough people loved you, you'd stop needing love.
- Torture is torture and humilitation is humiliation only when you choose to suffer.