Etalkinghead

She stood there watching: One coy hand on her cell-phone, wearing a white shirt, black pleated skirt, black shoes, and off white stockings careening up to her inner thighs. She was cute.

Seated 30 paces away, we sat, talking, teasing, and tinkering with our plastic dining utensils and the typical condiments that come with mall food. One of us glimpsed at the young girl, not more than 16, maybe 17. “You know, I wouldn’t look good in that.”

The remark coming from a 68 year old Viet-Nam veteran, who dons a combination of a flight jacket, an untucked dress shirt with a matching tie, a pair of fitted jeans, and engineer’s boots: a great friend of ours.

Inspired and piqued by the compelling imagery, I drew a picture of him in the girl’s suggestive garb. Then I drew a picture of an obese and rightfully unpopular local bureaucrat in the same outfit. I called my production aptly ‘My Halloween Specials’.

All of us laughed uproariously.

Forty five minutes later, I was exiting the mall precincts with a friend of mine. As we prepared to exit through the doors, a familiar figure passed by, smiled wanly, and said in a ruefully innocuous voice “You are a scumbag”.

Perplexed, I paused, rested my briefcase on the ground, asked my friend to wait, and walked steadily towards the young girl. ‘Miss, I am sorry, you said something..?’ The explanation was astounding. The revelation: Crushing. Her face, pretty, her figure shapely, she stood there for a minute, barely able to hold back her tears and failing to, her face puffed. She turned her torso, and walked away.

Apparently when we were eating she was standing behind us, coyly, attempting to attract one of us, could have been even me. Young, lively, and different; to her we must have been appealing. Lonely, seeking; friendless and without love, she wanted to be noticed. She must have dressed that way, in the popular ‘I’m different than other girls because my brand name says so’ way, to court the notice of someone she didn’t know but wanted to know.

She marketed herself in the only way she could at her age, belying the stockings, the shirt, the mini skirt, lay the quivering soul of a young girl, and a thirsty idealism.

The fat man in the mini skirt, the little squiggly flower in his flabby palms, on that napkin, the uproarious laughter, to that lonely soul was perceived as a hurt designed to mock her: her dress, her character. Her idealism aimed at our interest, her needs desiring company. This to her was an intimate betrayal. From a distance, she had placed her trust in us, in our dignity, in our liveliness, in her hope. This was the worst reassurance of her insecurities. She thought she was the fat man in the mini skirt and thigh deep stockings. Ouch! Oops! Shit!

I was speechless, she walked away, it was too late. It was a sad evening for our generation.

16,17 for the luckier ones, these are still tender years. Girls and guys chasing each other, not knowing, wanting, thirsting, fucking. Lured by the images on the telly screens, on fashion magazines, threatened by the contradictions of parental messages-parents from the Woodstock era, “liars, bigots, hypocrites, divorcees, they did it all! How dare they tell us?

“It’s difficult for teens to develop healthy attitudes towards sexuality and body image when much of the advertising aimed at them is filled with images of impossibly thin, fit, beautiful and highly sexualized young people. The underlying marketing message is that there is a link between physical beauty and sex appeal—and popularity success, and happiness.

Fashion marketers such as Calvin Klein, Abercrombie & Fitch and Guess use provocative marketing campaigns featuring young models. These ads are selling more than clothing to teens—they’re also selling adult sexuality” reports the Media Awareness Network

The insatiable marketing schemers, not satisfied with systematically sexualizing an unsustainable youth, have become the ultimate criminal gang. It is the lust driven, morally drained, Corporate Pedophile, inserting its green long unconscionable fingers into the private parts of our young people.

Read this:

“One of the most important recent developments in advertising to kids has been the defining of a “tween” market (ages 8 to 12). No longer little children, and not yet teens, tweens are starting to develop their sense of identity and are anxious to cultivate a sophisticated self-image. And marketers are discovering there’s lots of money to be made by treating tweens like teenagers.

The marketing industry is forcing tweens to grow up quickly. Industry research reveals that children 11 and older don’t consider themselves children anymore. The Toy Manufacturers of America have changed their target market from birth to 14, to birth to ten years of age.” Media Awareness Network

The problems they perpetrate are systematic, ruthless, profound, and is spelling a disaster for our psychosomatic race the likes of which have never been seen before. The flower of our youth, the progeny itself, is under a thorough and complete assault. In 2005, it’s D-Day+++. The beaches swarm with bathing suit stars, ‘successful’ graduates of dieting schools earning their certificates, and young men and women embracing each other in the only way they know to these days.

Globalization despite its boons, have made Child Exploitation a worldwide event, creating a group of young people who are fundamentally dysfunctional, dwelling and competing on sex, physical perfection, and sex instead of athletics, scholarly explorations, and the profound and rigorous ideas.

By treating young saplings as if they are adults, new pressures are being impressed upon them: Sexual Pressures. True, the Youth must be tested. But this is the most perverted, twisted, degenerate, psychologically debilitating, spiritually mauling, and yes, Sinister test ever crafted.

“Advertising has always sold anxiety, and it certainly sells anxiety to the young. It’s always telling them they’re losers unless they’re cool.” Says Mark Crispin Miller, The Merchants of Cool, 2000.

My great friend asks, “Who is the ugliest girl in America?” I don’t know, I tell him. “Paris Hilton”. Appreciative pause. “Who is the ugliest man in America?” I don’t know. “Her boyfriend”.

For that young girl, the one in the white shirt, the plaid skirt, the thigh high stockings. She turned away, her tears broke my heart, her toes, walking away, followed my gaze into a new horizon. I can’t see her, she’s too far gone, she’s beyond the horizon. The World is Round.

“If we want our children to possess the traits of character we most admire, we need to teach them what those traits are and why they deserve both admiration and allegiance. Children must learn to identify the forms and content of those traits.”~William Bennet

“A child only educated at school is an uneducated child.”~George Santayana

“Just think of the tragedy of teaching children not to doubt.”

~Clarence S. Darrow