Congratulations Alex Jones, you are today's winner of a handful of page clicks courtesy of yours truly. The best part of that article is that image numero uno is Ana "I'm still better than you" Kasparian of the Young Turks. Whatever else you might say about Alex Jones, he is an excellent troll.
App designer Ashot Gabrelyanov inadvertently (actually, he probably had at least some idea what he was doing) unleashed a shitstorm by hitting the thermal exhaust port of progressive women across the West: Aesthetics. Specifically, theirs. My chiefest, and simultaneously most banal, takeaway from interacting with Leftist women in college is that they are overwhelmingly ugly, fat, or disfigured. Honestly its usually a pick-two affair, with fatness vastly outweighing (heh) any other category as a singular trait. These people burn an insane amount of calories imposing academic and bureaucratic penalties on anyone who dares to point out the incongruity of the very idea of "thin privilege" considering that starvation killed one hundred million people in not-real-communist countries, plus or minus some change. But for whatever reason, they can't be fucked to hop on a treadmill.
Not that the men I encountered were any less broken. Speaking of the soyim, how did they react to FaceApp?
There is a particularly disgusting incestuous relationship between female feminists and their (albeit barely) male counterparts. Feminists screech for support, receive it from soymen orbiters, which wildly inflates feminism's perception that what they say is important. The soyman trades his dignity for a few pats on the head, which he uses to orbit slightly closer to his target until he reaches the point where he is just close enough to corner her when she is alone so that he may engage in the beta seduction ritual called "whipping out your junk in front of her and masturbating furiously". I have many questions regarding why male feminists seem to think that male feminism is a winning sexual strategy, but probably the most curious question is why does your seduction routine universally involve unannounced masturbation in front of your target? There's something funny about how ubiquitous that particular act is, and what it means will be revisited at a later date.
Unlike a handful of people who seem to think that FaceApp is a civilization spanning scales-falling-from-the-eyes event, I hold no illusions about the power of makeup, and neither do most men. That the face you're squinting at through the dim lights of a bar and a number of libations you forgot to count doesn't matter when objective numero uno is to fulfill your now uninhibited animal instincts. The morning after may be a little brutal, but you're not thinking about that then. In that respect, FaceApp isn't really all that significant. What is significant is the screeching. The culture war wasn't won or lost overnight, and each wayward tantrum the Left throws is a small but indelible memory for a small but nevertheless significant number of young men. Little lights flickering in the darkness. It is a small blessing, all things considered, to know that they grow in number every day.
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